Six Hot Summer Nights

But most of all he wanted to know what she wore beneath her simple black skirt and sleeveless pink top.

Mia framed his face with her palms and moaned as his mouth traveled from her lips down her neck. She arched into him, sending all kinds of jolts throughout his body.

“Bronson, we—”

“Need fewer clothes.”

He hated the loss of control he had as far as she was concerned. Hated that she had the power to ruin him.

But right now, Mia’s breathy sighs and pants in his ear clearly overrode common sense.

“Dinner …”

He nipped at her lips. “Still has a while and I need you now.”

Mia’s eyes widened, then softened as a smile spread across her face. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

Bronson palmed her breasts through her silk top. “I like you, Mia. I still can’t trust that you’re telling me the whole truth, but right now, I don’t give a damn.”

She started to protest when his mouth settled over hers. He didn’t want to hear excuses or reasons they should not be together. He knew them already and chose to ignore them.

He slid his hands around to the waist of her skirt and moved the zipper down. She wiggled those mesmerizing hips until the unwanted garment fell to the floor with a whoosh. She pulled the silk top over her head and tossed it toward the breakfast area, leaving her in a sexy, pink, lacey bra-and-panty set. Her rounded belly wasn’t the only sign of pregnancy. Her breasts nearly spilled over the top of the lace.

“You destroy me,” he muttered before pulling her body back against his. “Utterly destroy me.”

He devoured her mouth as her hands made quick work of his belt and pants. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, then lifted her onto the kitchen island and stepped between her legs.

“Just to be clear, I’m going to have you again tonight on a bed.”

Mia smiled, tracing his lips with her fingertip. “Count on it.”

He pulled her bra cups aside and slid his hands over her bare breasts, pleased when she moaned and arched into his touch. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he pulled her against the edge of the counter.

“Do we need a …” She trailed off, her eyes questioning.

“It’s a little late for that,” he told her. “Besides, I’ve always used one and I just had a routine physical. I’m clean.”

“Me, too. I had complete bloodwork for my prenatal appointment.”

He smiled, easing into her. “That settles it then.”

Mia’s arms came around his neck as her hips tilted against his. This woman was becoming a drug in his system that he couldn’t get enough of. Those little moans, the sighs and the way she fit against him only proved to him how much she wanted this. She wasn’t immune to their sexual chemistry.

He slid into her slowly, wanting this to last, knowing it wouldn’t. He’d desired her, ached for her since Cannes. Wondered if he’d imagined how good they were together.

He hadn’t. No, those dreams he’d had every night since were spot-on.

Bronson shoved aside all thoughts, focusing on the woman writhing in his arms, whispering his name. In no time she shuddered against him, sending him into his own tailspin. He held on to her until they both stopped shaking and silently vowed to make this better later in that promised bed.

As he eased back, he couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect their … what? Relationship? They didn’t really have a relationship. They’d supposedly made a child, but what should he call what they had?

Regardless of what this arrangement was called, he knew he wanted Mia again and he had no intention of leaving her house tonight. And the deeper he became involved with her, the more he wanted to trust every word that came out of her mouth.

Mia poured an after-dinner drink for Bronson and moved into the living room where he’d settled and was flipping through to find a movie, his gloriously tanned broad shoulders and bare chest on display for her to appreciate.

“Really?” she asked, setting his drink on the glass side table. “A movie?”

He eyed her. “We can start one, but if you try seducing me, I reserve the right to turn it off.”

Was he actually going to stay? Did he want to play house? Mia was so confused by his actions because they contradicted his words. She didn’t want to play games, didn’t want to wait around until he decided where they stood. She just didn’t have the emotional stamina for it.

“We need to talk,” she told him, sitting down beside him. “I’m all for what happened before dinner, but I have to be honest—I’m not looking for a fling, Bronson. I think there could be something between us if we could just be honest with each other and not keep this so shallow.”

His hand froze on the remote before he laid it down on the table. “I’ve told you I can’t offer more to a woman, Mia. I just can’t. You know why.”

“I know what happened in your past,” she retorted. “Let go of it and move on. Let those wounds stay covered and stop reopening them.”

He turned his head and sighed. “Mia, I’m not looking for happily-ever-after. I used to, but that’s gone. Now I’m focused on work, and I have more than one project going. What I have to offer is minimal.”

Meaning sex. Mia placed a hand on his arm. She knew he was softening—she’d seen it in the doctor’s office when he’d heard their baby’s heartbeat. She also knew their chemistry was amazing. So many elements to make for a wonderful family if he would just open his eyes to the possibility.

Patience. She had to learn patience if she wanted to forge a family with Bronson. And if the compatibility wasn’t there, then she’d let it go. But she had to try. Her heart had already gotten entangled with him.

Mia started unbuttoning Bronson’s dress shirt, which she’d thrown on before dinner. One by one his eyes traveled the path of her fingers.

“Then I’ll take what you have to offer,” she told him, shrugging out of the oversized shirt. “But I won’t stop trying to make you happy and to show you how good we could be together.”

She came to her feet, allowing the garment to slide down her arms and puddle on the floor. With a quirk of her brow, she walked from the room, knowing he’d follow.

She wanted him in her bed. She wanted to pull him just a bit deeper into her personal space. Little by little, she wanted him to realize that she meant business. Seduction came in all forms and Mia planned on using them all to get her man.

The couch rustled and she didn’t have to turn to know he was only steps behind. She padded down the hall into her master bedroom. The evening sun glistened in her high windows, casting a pale glow onto her bed.

By the time she’d removed her mound of silk throw pillows and turned, Bronson stood in the doorway, gloriously naked. Mia extended her hand, inviting him to join her.

He closed the space between them, taking her hand in his. And as they came together, Mia knew in her heart this is where she was meant to be, where they were meant to be.

Bronson kissed her with so much passion, so much hunger, Mia nearly wept with anticipation. There was no way this man could be so giving and caring and only have physical feelings for her. She refused to believe it.

Grasping his broad shoulders, Mia eased down onto the bed, pulling him with her. She sank into the duvet, reveling in the delight of his weight on top of her.

He pulled up as if to move. “The baby?”

“Is fine,” she assured him. “You’re not hurting either one of us. I like you here.”

Gently, he eased back down, trailing kisses over her face, her neck, her collarbone. Mia slid her hands up and down his muscular back as she lifted her knees.

In one smooth, toe-curling move they were one. Mia held tight to this man she was coming to care about more and more. She knew it wasn’t a stretch to say she was falling in love with him.

Perhaps that was just the baby situation talking, but she didn’t think so. He was caring, though cautious. He was loyal to everyone in his life and expected the same in return.

She’d tried to steel herself from falling for Bronson. Good Lord, considering his past, she didn’t blame him for having trust issues. But that vulnerability beneath his alpha exterior had her melting, and she could see, could feel, that he was coming around. If he truly didn’t believe her, he wouldn’t be with her so much. And if she didn’t think he had feelings for her—beyond sexual feelings—she wouldn’t let him sleep with her.

Mia would prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t lying about her feelings for him or about the baby.

But as pleasure consumed her, a niggling thought invaded her mind. She was lying, and that lie did involve Anthony.

Bronson took Mia’s hand as he led her into the doctor’s office for the ultrasound. The test was delayed for a week because the ultrasound tech had been ill, which irked Bronson, but here they were and Mia was fifteen weeks pregnant. He’d seen the little stars on her calendar hanging by the fridge. Every Thursday had a star with a number. He knew Mia was excited about the baby. And he hated to be pessimistic, but he had to rein in his own excitement until he knew for sure where he stood.

A part of him screamed that she was not lying, would never lie to him. But another part kept butting in and reminding him of the last woman who claimed to be carrying his child. Why couldn’t he separate the two in his mind?

They took a seat in the private waiting room until it was their turn, which wasn’t very long. As they went into the ultrasound room, Bronson helped Mia step up onto the table.

“Good afternoon,” the tech said, coming in right behind them. “Feeling okay, Mia?”

Mia nodded. “Morning sickness has been gone for about a month, and I’ve never felt better.”

The tech smiled as she laid Mia back and pulled her shirt up to her bra. “You’re into your second trimester. Most women have a huge burst of energy during this time. No cramping or anything?”

“Not anymore.”

Bronson stood beside the table, and when the tech put the scope on Mia’s stomach and pointed to the screen, his heart literally constricted. He grabbed Mia’s hand as he looked at the small, beating heart.

“I’ll take some measurements to be sure of the due date, but it looks like your baby has a nice, strong heartbeat.”

Bronson looked down to Mia, who was staring at the screen with watery eyes. “That’s so amazing,” she whispered.

The tech tapped a few buttons, moved the scope and tapped some more. “You’re exactly fifteen weeks and one day. Looks like your due date is Valentine’s Day.”

Good Lord, that seemed so far away. This was just the start of September.

“A Valentine’s baby?” Mia asked. “How appropriate, since I love her so much already.”

The tech laughed. “We can schedule your next appointment for one month out and at that time we’ll see if we can determine the sex of the baby. Assuming you want to know.”

Mia looked to Bronson. “I’d like to. Would you?”

The sex? That would make this child all the more real to him, but as he glanced up at that little beating heart, he knew he was already sucked in. This baby was real and, he hoped, his.

“I’d like that,” he said.

Mia’s smile spread across her face. Between seeing this child and spending so much time with Mia lately, he was starting to fall into a role he wasn’t sure he was ready for. And he was beginning to see Mia as the honest woman his mother had always claimed she was.

The tech wiped off the gel she’d put on Mia’s slightly rounded belly. “The receptionist will make that appointment on your way out.”

Once they made the appointment and left, Bronson settled Mia in the car.

“Would you like to go out for a late lunch?” he asked.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got so much I need to do. Can you just drop me off at the main house?” she asked.

Disappointment speared through him, not something he expected. “Sure.”

Mia stared down at the glossy black-and-white pictures the tech had given them. “I don’t know that I’ll get much done today. I may just have to look at our baby.”

Our baby. He was getting used to those words.

“If you show those to my mother, I guarantee nobody will be working.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to show them.”

Bronson spared her a glance, hating how he always saw uncertainty in her eyes. “She knows we went.”

He didn’t want to admit that his mother had no doubts about this child’s paternity. How could the woman be so sure? Granted Mia never gave him reason to doubt her. But in his mind the black mark against her was her relationship—whatever it may be—with Anthony Price.

“It’s okay, Bronson. I don’t mind keeping these to myself. I understand that you don’t want her to get attached yet.”

Mia’s words sent an ache through him. He knew she wanted to share her excitement. After all, she really had no one else in her life.

And that right there was all the more reason for her to try to trap him into a family.

Dammit, he wished he weren’t so cynical, but he had to be careful. He hated the thought of more scandal coming to his family.

Eleven

Déjà vu?

Bronson slammed the paper down onto the dark wood tabletop. He’d come to Saturday brunch at his mother’s and had been greeted with today’s “news”—a picture of him and Mia coming out the back door of the doctor’s office. As if the image of Mia, a hand protectively on her belly, with him at her side weren’t telling enough, the damning article went on to talk about “Dane’s second chance at a family” and Mia “bed hopping from one Hollywood hotshot to another.”

This was the only drawback to his career. He couldn’t even have a private life. Of course, after Mia’s rumored affair with Anthony, she was great fodder for the media, as well.

“I’m sorry, Bronson.”

Bronson turned from his cushioned chair to see Victoria standing next to him. As always, she appeared the picture of chic with her wraparound, sleeveless navy dress, gold jewelry and perfectly coiffed blond hair held back by her sunglasses.

Her eyes darted back down to the paper. “I just saw that earlier and tried to reach you, but my call went to your voice mail.”

“Don’t be sorry, Tori.” Bronson came to his feet, placing a peck on his sister’s cheek. “It’s not your fault the media sniffed out this story. It was bound to happen. I just hope they leave Mia alone.”

Victoria took a seat next to him and smiled. “I knew you cared for her.”

“Yes,” he said cautiously, because Victoria always had love on the brain. “I care. We’re not planning a wedding or even playing house together. But I do care.”

A little more than he was comfortable with.

Victoria waved a hand in the air. “I know you like to keep your feelings to yourself, so I won’t say I told you so when you propose.”

“Propose?”

Bronson groaned as he turned to see his mother only a few feet away. “No. There’s no engagement. Tori’s just fantasizing. Again.”

Olivia kissed both her children on the cheek before taking a seat at the patio table under the bright California sun, shielded by a vibrant orange umbrella.

“Well, I for one would be all for bringing Mia into the family,” Olivia declared. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

This was not what he was in the mood for today. He’d already lost sleep the past several nights over conflicting feelings for Mia. He needed to work this out on his own without his mother or sister influencing him. For pity’s sake, he was a grown man who produced multimillion-dollar blockbusters. Surely he could decide how to handle a petite, Italian beauty who had his stomach in knots.

“I’ve drawn up a budget for the film,” he told his mother, stopping midthought when the waitstaff approached because only three people knew about this project and they were all sitting at this table.

“Not a subtle change of subject, but a necessary topic.” Olivia smiled up at the waitstaff as the two ladies brought out carts complete with soufflés, fresh fruit, breads and juice. Once they were out of earshot, she spoke again. “Have you chosen a director?”

“I’ve got two in mind.” He took his napkin and placed it in his lap. “I’d like to discuss that with you.”

“Allow me to throw my choice in.” Olivia leveled her gaze at Bronson. “Anthony Price.”

Victoria’s audible intake of breath could barely be heard over the ringing in his ears. He set his cup of juice on the table, wishing for something a little stronger in his glass if this was the way his day was going to go. First the newspaper and now this preposterous request from his mother? She couldn’t be serious.

“Hear me out,” Olivia said, sitting straight up in her seat. “I have something important to tell you both, something that no one knows, and I’d prefer it stay that way.”

Every nerve ending in his body prickled as he glanced at Victoria, who seemed to be just as nervous about this impending declaration as he was.

“I’ve had some tests that have come back unsatisfactory, according to my doctor.” She looked from Victoria to Bronson. “I don’t expect this to be anything more than a nuisance, but I am having further testing to rule everything out.”

“What tests? What symptoms are you having?” Victoria asked.

“You’ve gotten a second opinion, right?” Bronson asked at the same time.

That genuine smile that had won her Oscars and worked its way into the hearts of millions spread across her face. But Bronson didn’t care about the audiences who’d come to love her. This was his mother, and if her health was in jeopardy, he wanted her healed. Now.

“This is why I didn’t want you two to know,” she told them. “I don’t want you to worry, and I don’t want you to look at me the way you are now. I assure you, I feel fine, and I’m convinced this next round of tests will prove the others wrong.

“I’ve been having some slight chest pain, and I just attribute it to stress. My stress test came back a bit off, and the doctor wants to go in a take a look.”

“When?” he asked.

“Monday.”

Bronson tried to grasp that his mother wasn’t invincible, as he’d thought. He’d been so self-absorbed lately, he’d ignored his mother and sister, trying to get his own life under control. Fear squeezed his chest as he stared at the woman who’d been his rock and source of strength for so long.

Which is why he had a hard time trying to comprehend what this had to do with Anthony Price.

“I’ll clear my schedule,” Victoria told her. “But what does Anthony have to do with any of this?”

Something flickered in Olivia’s eyes, something he couldn’t identify, which both worried and irritated him. She was hiding something.

“This medical nuisance has had me thinking.” She looked Bronson dead in the eye. “You’re the best producer in the business. No question. You cannot deny that Anthony is the best director. I want the best for the film we’ve written loosely based on my life, and I want you and Anthony to bury this animosity long enough to make this the best film ever.”

Fury burned through him. “Why are you so insistent? There’s more to this than your medical scare.”

Olivia reached for the butter and began to layer a very minimal amount onto her freshly baked banana bread. “This will be my last film, Bronson, and this is what I want.”

“Mother,” Victoria piped in. “You’re not retiring. Don’t even suggest this is the last film you’ll do.”

“Darling, as much as I love to be in front of the camera, it’s time for me to call it quits. I want to go out on top, and what better way than with my own story?”

Bronson stared down at the newspaper with the headline that continued to mock him.

He’d certainly had better days.

“You know why I hate Anthony. Asking him to work on this film is unacceptable.” Bronson came to his feet. “We’ll discuss directors after your appointment Monday, once we see what the doctors say. Until then, this topic is closed.” He turned to Victoria. “See you later, Tori.”

Walking away, Bronson didn’t know where to go from here. He needed to calm down from his mother’s request, he needed to grasp that his mother may have a heart problem and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

But first things first. He needed to go see Mia and talk to her about that damning picture on the front page of the newspaper.

Mia couldn’t believe the headline. She hadn’t heard from Bronson, but she knew he’d be up having brunch with his mother and sister. She’d so hoped this pregnancy wouldn’t get out until they were ready. The last thing she wanted was to cause more heartache for Bronson or to have the progress she’d made in getting him to open up encounter a setback.

She had a feeling he’d be dropping by after his brunch with his family. What she didn’t have a clue about was the mood he’d be in when he arrived.

Rubbing the swell of her baby bump, Mia tried to relax by the pool. She’d donned her black string bikini, not caring that her waistline was expanding more quickly than she’d expected. Her cell sent out a shrill ring, jarring her from her thoughts. Why hadn’t she left that thing inside?

Her fingers felt along the chaise until she found the phone tucked by her thigh. “Hello?”

“Tell me this isn’t true.”

Mia sat up, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head as Anthony’s low voice interrupted her thoughts. “You saw the paper.”

“You’re not carrying Bronson’s baby, Mia. Tell me you’re not.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You two have gotten close,” Anthony said. “Obviously closer than I thought you would. You didn’t …”

Mia came to her feet. “I didn’t tell him, Anthony. I told you I wouldn’t.”

His frustrated sigh resounded through the phone. “How did you get entangled with him at all? I warned you, Mia. You knew what a ladies’ man he was.”

She tried to block that from her mind, especially since she was falling in love with that “ladies’ man.”

“I can’t stop my feelings, Anthony. You of all people know that.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “I’m not talking about my rocky marriage. I’m worried that you’re getting in over your head here.”

Touched, Mia turned toward the beckoning, clear water of her pool. “I assure you, I’ve got everything under control.”

“So when are you due?”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“Really? That seems so far away.”

Mia glanced at her belly. “I have a feeling it’ll be here before we know it.”

“You sound happy.”

She couldn’t help the smile as she clutched her cell. “I really am. I’m not sure where we’re going, but I’m happy and for now that’s enough.”

“Just don’t sell yourself short.”

Mia pulled her sunglasses back down to block the bright rays. “When will you talk to Olivia?”

The pause of silence didn’t surprise her. She knew this was more than likely all he thought about. Well, that and how to keep his marriage intact.

“Anthony?” she urged. “You have to talk to her. I know this is your place to tell her, but I’ve gotten in deeper with this family. It’s way beyond employer/employee, and it’s putting a strain on me that I can’t afford.”

“I’d already decided to call her. Charlotte will be gone next week with some friends at our Tahoe home, so I’m going to call Olivia and set up a time to chat.”

“You tell me when and I’ll make sure her schedule is clear that day,” Mia assured him. “I know it will be hard, but I really think it’s for the best.”

“I know it is. I just don’t know what to say.”

Mia sighed, not envying his position—or Olivia’s, for that matter. “I’m sure once you tell her you know, she’ll do all the talking.”

Anthony talked for another few minutes while Mia listened. She knew he had no one else to talk to about this because he hadn’t even told his wife. He’d claimed he didn’t want to add any more of a strain on Charlotte and their marriage. She was already so sick of all the Hollywood hype. How would she react when he told her he was the biological son of Hollywood’s Grand Dane?