Pregnant By The Billionaire

Sawyer, however, had been the one guy for whom she had no defense. She’d let him sweet-talk her, even when she was sure it was all a line. He’d told her she was beautiful and sexy and she’d lapped up every word like she’d never had a decent compliment. And then there was their ultimate destination that night—bed. A one-night stand was not her style, but it had felt like an inevitability only a few moments into their first dance. He was commanding and powerful and even though Kendall had always sworn she’d never fall for that, she’d practically jumped at the chance with Sawyer.

The champagne hadn’t helped. The first glass gave way to flirtatious glances. The second brought an answer of “yes” when he asked her to dance. It had also made her pretend that she didn’t know he was from a wealthy and powerful New York family. In fact, she’d ignored all the damning knowledge she had of him—the playboy reputation, the money—even though men like Sawyer Locke had broken her mother’s heart more times than she could remember.

In the weeks since the wedding, Sawyer had proven her every assumption about him to be true. He might have asked for her number and said he would call her, but he hadn’t. Oldest trick in the book, a real blow to the ego, and probably for the best. Sawyer had been a mistake.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the clock. No time to waste, she slipped the ring onto her left hand. “Men of Manhattan, back off. I’m engaged.”

Kendall made record time down her block and around the corner to the subway stop. Thundering down the stairs, she swiped her pass and clunked through the turnstile, narrowly making her train. She sat next to a gray-haired woman who was clutching her purse to her chest. Shielding her hand with her laptop bag, Kendall eyed the ring and reminded herself what she wanted it to symbolize. She didn’t need anyone. She made her own future, no man required.

The heroine in the movie with the ring had been just like her—single, making stupid mistakes with men. Creating the illusion of being a taken woman served two purposes—it would be an ever-present reminder to stay on track with her career, the one thing she could truly count on, and it kept men away. That last part was a very good thing for Kendall. Men only ever approached her because she was, as her grandmother often pointed out, buxom and curvy. Sawyer Locke had undoubtedly only approached her for those reasons. It wasn’t like he’d had asked her to dance because she looked smart or like she might have a sparkling personality.

She probably never should’ve gone to her old college roommate’s wedding in the first place. That entire dream weekend in Maine was a magnifying glass on Kendall’s singleness. It normally didn’t bother her, but it was different being crammed into a banquet hall with her old friends, all married or in a serious relationship. Many had kids. One was already on her second husband. They had all moved forward with their lives. Kendall had, too, in her own way—building the one thing her mom had never managed to put together—a career. She needed to get back on track. Worrying about men was going to keep her running in circles.

The train arrived at her station, and she hurried along to the office of Sloan Public Relations. She’d been with the firm for nearly two years now, and was making strides. Her boss, Jillian Sloan, had said as much.

When she walked through the door, the normally bustling office was eerily quiet. Her coworkers spoke in hushed tones, ducking behind cubicles. Maureen, the receptionist, looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

“Did somebody die?” It wasn’t an outlandish question. Several people had looked a little green around the gills after Jillian had lunch brought in yesterday. Never trust potato salad, or any questionable picnic foods—that was one of the many rules Kendall lived by.

“Wanda was fired.”

Kendall clasped her hand over her mouth. Wanda was supposed to get the VP job. “Fired? Why? When did this happen?”

“About ten minutes ago.” Maureen leaned closer and dropped her chin while casting her eyes up at Kendall. “Supposedly she had something going on with one of her clients. You know how Jillian is.”

Oh, Kendall knew. Jillian was all about appearances. Sloan PR was a tight ship.

“If you’d been on time, you would’ve been here for it,” Maureen continued. “Wanda’s packing up her office right now. Oh, and Jillian wants to see you right away.”

“Right away?” Kendall grimaced. Had she done something?

“Yes. Go.”

Racing down the hall from reception, dodging a few of her coworkers, she dropped her things onto her desk. She took a deep breath, straightened her skirt and headed back to the executive wing of their floor—two corner offices with a large, central waiting area and private conference room between. Jillian’s was the larger of the two offices, but they were both impressive. The second, the one that everyone had thought would become Wanda’s, was empty. The door had been left open for the three months since the last VP left to start her own company, a constant reminder to everyone that the job was up for grabs, if you dazzled Jillian. Wanda’s office was closed, but a long string of profanity came from behind the door. Apparently someone was not happy about having been fired, but anyone could’ve told her Jillian wouldn’t put up with anything fishy with a client.

Jillian’s assistant hung up her phone. “Oh good, Ms. Ross. Ms. Sloan is waiting for you. Go right in.”

Kendall filed into her boss’s office and stood waiting while Jillian tapped away at her computer. “Morning, Kendall. I’m sure you’ve heard. I had to let Wanda go.” She turned to Kendall, her glossy chestnut-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, probably so everyone could admire the chunky diamond studs in her ears. Jillian had worked her way up in the world and she wasn’t afraid to remind people of it. “It was an unfortunate situation, but it’s time for us all to move on.”

Kendall wasn’t about to ask for details. She could dig the truth out of one of her coworkers later. “Yes, of course.”

“This could be a big opportunity for you. There’s no question you’re a rising star. You work hard, you have innovative ideas and you’re keenly focused on our clients. You could stand to be on time more often, but we won’t get into that right now.”

Kendall cleared her throat and shifted her weight. “Thank you.”

“Now that we’ve lost Wanda, you’re next in line for the VP position.”

Kendall stopped herself from blurting I am? “That’s great news. Thank you.”

“Don’t get too excited. I’m also considering Wes. He’s right behind you in the pecking order.”

The bottom of Kendall’s stomach dropped out. Ugh. Wes was her most annoying colleague, as enjoyable as a bowl of soggy cereal. He’d raised sucking up to the boss to an art form, and took so much joy in interfering with Kendall at work that she half expected him to show up one day with a villain’s handlebar mustache just so he could twirl the ends. “I see.”

“Show me that you’re right for this job. You can start right now. I have a very important potential client waiting in the conference room. I can’t tell you what the project is, though. I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement just to take the meeting. We can’t say a thing, even if he doesn’t hire us.”

Nondisclosure? Must be a big fish. “Sure. Great. What can I do?”

“Win the account. I’ll be there, but you’ll do the heavy lifting. He doesn’t want a dog and pony show. He wants to speak directly to whomever would be handling his project. He wants ideas. He wants brilliance.”

“What about Wes?”

“You get our only shot.” Jillian stepped out from behind her desk, clasping Kendall’s shoulder. “You’ve earned it. Now don’t let me down.”

Kendall tried to swallow, but her throat wouldn’t cooperate. Nothing like walking into a pressure cooker first thing Monday morning. “I’m ready.” Just to sell it, she gave Jillian two thumbs-up.

Jillian pointed to her left hand. “Are you engaged? I don’t remember that ring.”

Kendall hadn’t fully formulated her story, but she sure as heck wasn’t going to tell her boss she’d gotten the idea from a TV movie. “It was my mother’s. I found it and thought I’d wear it.”

“On your left ring finger?”

“Do you ever get hit on by men who you’d prefer just left you alone?”

“All the time,” Jillian answered. “It can get really annoying.”

“Precisely. If a man takes the time to really know me, I can tell him it’s just a fashion choice. Until then, it’s a great way to keep them at bay and focus on my job.”

A sly smile crossed Jillian’s face. “I like the way you think.”

Kendall followed Jillian into the conference room, her mind a jumble...her aspirations, her career goals, being on her A game, trying to win an account she knew nothing about. She fiddled with the ring on her finger. You’ve got this.

The minute she crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her, Kendall’s stomach, already unsettled like she’d chugged a bubbly soda, did a verifiable somersault. There at the end of the conference table, in a charcoal-gray suit that made her want to bite her knuckle, sat quite possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen—precisely the man she’d been hoping to forget by putting on her mother’s ring that morning. Sawyer Locke.

Two (#u0bb942e3-940e-580c-b68d-00476ee6b7b0)

Kendall always prepared well for meetings, but knowledge of how amazing a potential client looked without clothes was not the normal intel. Did Sawyer know she worked there? Was he up to something? And then there was the question she wished hadn’t popped into her head at all, one she’d never ask, mostly because she wouldn’t like it if he turned the tables and asked her the same thing: Why hadn’t he called?

“Mr. Locke.” Jillian shook hands with Sawyer. “This is Kendall Ross. She’s our top PR person. If you hire us, she’ll be handling the details.”

Eyes trained on her, Sawyer reached for Kendall, his warm brown eyes transporting her to the not-so-distant past—a time and place where she knew every inch of his glorious body and he knew the same of her. She should’ve had her mind trained on wooing Sawyer as a client, not thinking about what a fantastic kisser he was. This was such unfamiliar territory, she hardly knew what to do. She only knew that she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by things like his shoulders in that suit or the neatly trimmed five-o’clock shadow along his angular jaw.

“Actually, Ms. Ross and I already know each other.” Sawyer gripped her hand, all business, but it felt like he was trying to suck her in.

Kendall nearly clutched her chest with her free hand to keep her heart from failing. The handshake was far too intimate. Too much heat transferred from his big, firm, naked hand to hers. Stupid rules of polite society—touching him was putting her off her game.

“Oh, uh, yes. We do know each other.” She tittered, something she would never do, especially not in a meeting. Get it together. “We met at a mutual friend’s wedding.” Kendall scanned Sawyer’s face if only to figure out what in the hell he was hoping to accomplish by admitting they knew each other. Silently confronting him in this manner only created more problems, as he unflinchingly returned her gaze, eyes singularly trained on her, making her heart beat like a fish trying to flop out of a bucket to save its own life.

“We had a wonderful time. Ms. Ross showed me some of her moves.” He bounced his dark brows. The corners of his mouth twitched arrogantly. “On the dance floor.”