Accidentally Expecting

They had agreed not to see each other again, then she shows up out of the blue on his doorstep?

Then he realised he was nervous.

Nervous and excited to see her, even though he knew any relationship between them would lead to a dead end.

The attraction, the soul-deep connection that he’d tried to write off as a fluke, was apparently no fluke after all. His first instinct was to tug her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

“This is awkward, huh?”

“Yeah. I seem to recall that we agreed not to see each other again.”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry, but the situation has changed.”

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. “Which situation is that?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out, then looked him in the eye and said, “The situation that arose when I found out I was pregnant.”

MICHELLE CELMER

lives in a southeastern Michigan zoo.

Well, OK, it’s really a house, but with three teenagers, three dogs, three cats (are you seeing a pattern here?) and a fifty-gallon tank full of various marine life, sometimes it feels like a zoo. It’s rarely quiet, seldom clean, and between after-school jobs, various extracurricular activities and band practice, getting everyone home at the same time to share a meal is next to impossible.

Accidentally Expecting

Michelle Celmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Courtney

You may be my niece,

but in my heart you’ll always be my sister

Chapter One

Married to a bully? Have you had enough? Emotional abuse leaves no bruises, breaks no bones, still the damage runs deep. Think it’s impossible to prove? Think again. A tape recorder or hidden camera can be a girl’s best friend.

—excerpt from The Modern Woman’s Guide to Divorce (and the joys of staying single)

She was going to seduce him.

Miranda Reed sat in the shadows at the back of the hotel lounge, sipping her apple martini, eyes on her prey. He sat alone at the bar, his attention on the football game, unaware that he was being watched. His suit jacket lay draped on the bar stool beside him, and he’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt and loosened his tie. Even in this casual, relaxed state he stood out from the other businessmen. Everything about him was slightly and subtly exaggerated.

At six-two, Zackary Jameson stood a hair taller than most men, with a physique toned to perfection, dressed in a suit and shirt that were obviously tailor-made to accentuate every one of his assets. She was especially impressed by the “asset” resting on the bar stool.

She did so appreciate a man with a nice rear end.

He somehow managed a perpetual tan, without ever looking leathery or sun baked, and any signs of age on his face made him look more distinguished than old. His short dark hair had that sexy, mussed look, as if he’d just run his hands through it wet, but in reality probably took hours in front of a mirror to perfect. His mouth was wide, his smile warm and genuine, and his teeth just white and straight enough. Caps, she was guessing. No one had teeth that perfect naturally.

He carried himself with casual authority, an ease and male grace that made people stop and watch. She’d never met a man who radiated such confidence, who was more comfortable in his own skin.

Too bad he was an overopinionated male chauvinist pig whose ideologies fell out of fashion with covered wagons and hoop skirts.

When asked to do the radio show with the renowned relationship guru, a man who had built an empire around the principles of traditional family values, her publicist assured her the promotion for the book she cowrote, The Modern Woman’s Guide to Divorce (and the joys of staying single), would be invaluable.

Big mistake.

He’d argued so logically and twisted her words so skillfully that by the end of the show her message had been lost and she’d come out looking like a radical feminist man hater.

She couldn’t forget the way he’d watched her with those piercing blue eyes, eyes deep enough to swim in, with not a hint of the superiority and satisfaction he must have been feeling for discrediting her. In fact, as she’d become angrier and more aggressive, he’d stayed calm and reasonable, the drivel he preached pouring out of him, smothering her every point like hot fudge over cold vanilla ice cream.

Call it petty and uncivilized, but she was in the mood for some good old-fashioned revenge. Even if she would be the only one who knew.

She was going to put his high ideals to the test and see if he really believed all that garbage he spouted about marriage and family. Specifically, his views on intimacy. The slightly updated version of no sex before marriage. The idea that a man and a woman should be committed, preferably with plans of marriage, before consummating a relationship.

They would just see about that.

Miranda watched as the waitress delivered the drink she had ordered him, saw the look of curiosity on his face. The waitress pointed in her direction, and when he turned, she pasted on an alluring smile and waggled her fingers at him. One of those heart-stopping grins curled the corners of his mouth when he recognized her.

He tossed a few bills on the waitress’s tray—a man like him would of course be a generous tipper—grabbed his jacket and drink and headed to her table, his eyes never leaving her face. She’d worn her hair down and let it fall in silky waves over her shoulders, its dark color bringing out the green in her eyes. It was a little unnerving the way he stared with such intensity, as if the world around them no longer existed. As he drew closer she even felt a little breathless, as if he’d sucked all the air from the room and there was none left for her.

This night could definitely prove to be satisfying, in more ways than one.

“Mr. Jameson,” she said as he stopped beside the table.

“Ms. Reed,” he replied, with an affable tip of his head. He had the voice of a radio DJ—deep and mesmerizing. A voice that held captive auditoriums full of his loyal supporters for hours on end. “May I join you?”

She gestured to the empty seat, taking care to make the move look as gracefully seductive as possible. If there was one thing she’d learned on her journey to becoming a modern, independent woman, it was how to seduce a man. “Please.”

He set his drink on the table and hung his jacket on the back of the chair before he slid into the seat, casual yet so controlled, as if he thoroughly planned each and every move before executing it. “Are you enjoying your stay in New York?”

“It’s been…interesting.” Not to mention frustrating and humiliating. “Between the book signings and the interviews it’s been an exhausting couple of days. I’m looking forward to getting back to Dallas.”

“I had hoped to have time to speak with you after the broadcast.”

“So you could rub the victory in my face maybe?” she asked, keeping her tone sweet.

He smiled. “No, so I could tell you what a pleasure it was to meet you. I enjoyed our discussion. I was impressed.”

She shot him a disbelieving look. “Could have fooled me.”

He just smiled. “Do you still practice law?”

“Not recently, no. The book seems to have dominated my life.”

“I take you’re not a litigator.”

“Gee, what tipped you off?”

He relaxed back in his seat and sipped his drink, studying her for a long moment. “I could tell you exactly what you did wrong during that interview. How you lost control.”

She folded her arms and leaned forward, resting them on the table, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, thanks to her very-low-cut, scoop neck silk blouse. “This should be good.”

His eyes didn’t stray from her face. “You attacked me. You spent all of your time trying to convince me that your way is better. That your opinions hold more credibility.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you do?”

“Quite the opposite. I never once said that what you believe is wrong.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then paused, trying to remember a single thing he’d said to debunk her. But damned if he wasn’t right. Not once had he directly challenged her opinion or disagreed with her. While she’d been quick to accuse him of being old-fashioned and closed-minded he’d simply stated his point of view logically and calmly.

She hadn’t lost control. She’d never had it.

“It is not my goal or intention to persuade people to live a cardboard-cut-out lifestyle,” he said.

She let out a very uncouth, unsexy snort of disbelief. “That is exactly your goal.”

“I disagree.” He was so damned calm and rational. It was as annoying as it was fascinating. “What I do is give people options. A very basic principle of family dynamics. Whether they choose to adopt that lifestyle, or how they integrate it into their own lives, in whole or part, is entirely up to the individual.”

As much as she hated admitting she was wrong, and hated being wrong even more, in his books, which she’d grudgingly skimmed, and the seminar she’d rented on DVD, she couldn’t recall a single incident when he’d said his way was the only way. Maybe that was what made people so receptive to his ideas.

She tried a different angle. “You’re not married. In fact, I read that you’ve never been married.”

“Not yet,” he agreed.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I guess I just haven’t met the right woman.”

“Maybe that’s because the kind of woman you’re looking for doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t believe that. Everyone has a soul mate. I just haven’t met mine yet.”

“Considering your views on sex before marriage, you must lead a very…lonely existence.”

“I believe in waiting until the relationship becomes exclusive and committed before sex. And though I’ve never been married, I’ve been in several committed relationships.” He leaned forward slightly, flashing her a playful, sexy look that had her toes curling in her spiked heels. “Very satisfying committed relationships.”

Oh, boy, who was doing the seducing here? Or maybe he was just a tease. Either way, she was having far too much fun. And he had no idea who he was messing with. Considering his conservative views on relationships, she could only assume he would be equally conservative in the bedroom. Given her preference to be in charge, the arrangement would work well for her. Maybe she could teach him a thing or two.

She sipped her drink, looking up at him through the fringe of her lashes. “How can a man who has never been married be an authority on marriage?”

“Does a psychiatrist have to have schizophrenia to treat it? Does a defense attorney have to be a criminal to represent his client?”

The man had an answer for everything, didn’t he? Yet it was fascinating to watch, really, to see the way his mind worked. He was passionate without being arrogant, staunch in his views but not intolerant of her opinions. It also didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, had a body to die for and a more than decent sense of humor.

As they chatted and sipped their drinks, she found herself lulled by his voice, trapped in the depths of his eyes. There were women all around them but he never spared one a single glance. His eyes were on her only. His steady gaze made her feel as if she were the only one in the universe.

More than two hours and several drinks later, despite the fact that she was beginning to feel more than a little tipsy, they were still at it. Still talking and debating. And all she could think about was getting him up to her room, liberating him from his clothing and showing him a thing or two about real women. What would his lips feel like? How would he taste? Would he take charge, or would he lie back and let her be in control?

Her yearning for revenge was overshadowed by a much more basic instinct. Good old-fashioned sexual attraction. She and Zack may have had completely opposite views on relationships, but they also had chemistry. A lethal combination of hormones, pheromones and testosterone.

She could tell that he felt it, too. The longer they sat there, the more aware of each other they became. Aware and distracted. His eyes began to stray to her cleavage, their gaze as intimate and exciting as a caress, but pure somehow. He watched her mouth as she sipped her drink, making every move feel slow and exaggerated. Seductive and sexy. When his foot bumped hers under the table, she didn’t doubt the move was intentional. Instead of feeling violated, she wanted to be closer. She became aware of herself leaning in toward him and saw that he was doing the same. As if they both felt compelled to be closer. The pull of attraction was irresistible.

Had it not been for the table between them and the fact that they were in public, she didn’t doubt that they would be wrapped around each other by now.

She looked around and realized the bar had nearly emptied. Zack looked at his watch. “It’s late.”

“Up past your bedtime?” she asked, attempting to keep a teasing tone, so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. Had she misread his signals? Was he not as turned on as she was? Or did he really stick by the no-sex rule?

“I was thinking maybe it was past yours. Could I walk you to your room?” He flashed her another one of those sexy smiles, gave her a look that said he wanted to do a lot more than just walk her to her room, and she felt a zing of excitement from her scalp down to the tips of her toes and some very interesting places in between.

She had him right where she wanted him.

Or did he have her?

“I had a good time tonight,” Miranda told Zack as they stepped off the elevator onto her floor. When they’d been standing side by side, she’d been even more aware of his size, his imposing presence. She’d always considered herself average in height, but in three-inch heels she was still a good five or six inches shorter than him.

The grace of his movements, the sheer masculinity, was hypnotizing. This was a man who looked good and he knew it. Yet he managed not to come off as arrogant.

How did he do that?

Her hands itched to touch him, to unfasten the buttons of his shirt and explore the skin underneath. But she had to play this just right. She had to be subtle. He’d been a perfect gentleman in the lobby and while they rode up the twenty-two floors alone in the elevator. The only physical contact he’d made was to gently touch her elbow. Not that she’d expected him to ravage her in public.

Not that it wouldn’t have been exciting to know he was so taken he couldn’t resist her.

“I had a good time, too,” he said, flashing her a grin. “It’s refreshing to have a discussion with someone who doesn’t agree with everything I say.”

“You’re different than I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Truthfully? I expected you to be an arrogant male-chauvinist pig.”

He didn’t look offended. In fact, his smile widened. “You wouldn’t be the first person to accuse me of that. I understand that my philosophies can be tough to swallow for some people.”

“If it’s any consolation, I may not agree with your ideas, but I do respect them. It would be great if life really worked that way. Unfortunately, I know better.”

They reached her room and she dug in her purse for the key card, but her fingers didn’t seem to be working as well as usual. When she found it, he plucked it from her fingers and unlocked the door. He held it open and she stepped into her room, turning to him with every intention of inviting him in. Before she could get a word out, he’d backed her inside, shut the door and pulled her into his arms.

Chapter Two

Pressed up against the long, warm, solid length of Zack’s body, Miranda had no doubt of his attraction for her. The man was definitely turned on, and he was apparently big all over.

A lamp beside the bed shed soft light in the room and she could see the desire in his eyes. Her first instinct was to resist, to push him away. He had stepped in and taken control of a situation she’d intended to direct and she felt the tiniest bit apprehensive. But her body wouldn’t listen to her head. She didn’t know if it was the drinks making her fuzzy or the two hours of verbal foreplay blurring her good sense, but she trembled all over. She caught the hint of a subtle and clean-scented aftershave mixed with some familiar brand of soap, neither of which covered his own unique masculine scent.

She hadn’t expected this. She was the one who was supposed to be seducing him. She had to do something to win back the control.

“All I’ve been able to think about tonight was touching you,” he rasped, caressing her face. The move was gentle and firm at the same time. Then he kissed her—deep, intense and disarming—and she went limp with desire. He was a man on a mission. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t shy about taking it.

How could something so wrong feel so good? When it came to sex she was always the aggressor; she called the shots. This all seemed to be moving too fast, yet she didn’t make a move to stop him.

She didn’t want to stop him.

He kissed her mouth, her throat, tasting and nipping her skin, as if he wanted to devour every inch of her. He bit her earlobe hard enough to make her gasp with surprise and her body shudder in ecstasy.

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it aside, but when she tried to unbutton his shirt he manacled her wrists and held them behind her, backing her against the door. A move like that would earn any other man a swift knee jerk to the crotch, but no other man had ever made her feel so willing to let go.

He trapped both of her wrists in one large hand and used the other to unfasten the buttons on her blouse. She probably could have broken loose, but at this point she didn’t want to be free.

He pushed her blouse off her shoulders. It slipped down her arms and caught on her wrists. She wasn’t exactly large-busted, but her breasts sat firm and high and were nicely shaped. With the exception of her ex-husband, who found fault with everything, she’d never heard a single complaint.

Considering the way Zack was looking at her, he wouldn’t be complaining, either. His assessing eyes burned her skin like hot coals. She’d worked damned hard for this body. She knew she looked good and he appeared to agree.

He lowered his head, biting her though the lacy fabric of her bra, blowing hot breath on her skin. She moaned and arched her back.

“I don’t do this,” he said, looking at her with an intensity that gave her chills. “I don’t have affairs with women I just met and hardly even know.”

“I don’t, either,” she admitted.

“I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you right now.”

Zack’s words filled her with a thrilling kind of satisfaction. But for all the wrong reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with revenge. This was all about wanting Zack. Wanting him to ravage her. She would go so far as to say she needed him, but she didn’t need anyone.

He cupped the back of her thigh, dragging her skirt up, growling with pleasure when he realized she was wearing a garter belt. Since her divorce from a man who didn’t think sexy underwear was “appropriate,” she’d spent hundreds of dollars on all the racy things he had never let her wear. It was nice to meet someone who appreciated her taste.

Zack let go of her wrists and her blouse fell to the floor. He unzipped her skirt and smoothed it down her hips, leaving her in only a scandalously brief and sheer bra and thong set, a lace garter belt, black silk stockings and spike heels. She’d never felt so sexy in all her life.

He dropped to his knees in front of her and nuzzled his face against her bare stomach, his beard stubble abrading her skin, making her shiver. Every part of her felt alive with sexual awareness and heavy with lust. He nibbled her stomach, ran his tongue over the tiny gold hoop in her navel, gripping her hips in his big hands.

He tugged roughly on her thong and she heard it rip apart in his hands, but she was too excited to care that he’d ruined her favorite one. He could rip it all if that was what he wanted, if that would excite him even half as much as he’d excited her.

Her body felt shaky and weak, and she tunneled her fingers though his hair to hold herself steady. Her breath was coming faster, her anticipation mounting, and when he finally buried his face between her thighs she cried out. Her body arched, fingers tangled in his hair. Her knees gave out, but he caught her before she could fall and hooked her leg over his shoulder. She was on the verge of a cataclysmic explosion, the sparks sizzling ever closer to the end of her fuse.

When it reached her core, the explosions rocked through her. It was so good, so perfect, she wanted to cry. In her life no one had ever made her feel this way. It scared her half to death and thrilled her beyond belief.

She was too limp to even think twice as he lifted her off her feet and deposited her on the bed. Too sated to do anything but watch as he undressed. His body was just as amazing as she’d thought it would be.

He knelt on the bed beside her and pulled her shoes off one at a time, tossing them to the floor. When she reached up to undo her bra, he stopped her.

“Keep it on.” His eyes raking over her as he knelt between her thighs. He hooked his hands around the backs of her knees and tugged her closer, the coarse hair on his legs tickling her skin. His actions were demanding and almost overpowering, yet somehow managed to be tender.

Then he closed his eyes and cursed, a four-letter word she didn’t think men like him used.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just realized, I don’t have protection.”

No protection? What man in this day and age didn’t carry condoms?

The kind who didn’t have sex until he was in a committed relationship, which she was guessing typically took more than two hours and three Scotch on the rocks.

Lucky for him a modern woman was always prepared. She had been anticipating this.

“In my purse.”

He reached over and grabbed it for her, and after she dug a condom out, he tried to take it from her.

“Oh, no,” she said, ripping it open. “This is my favorite part.”

She watched him watching her, the heat in his eyes as she rolled it on. Then she reached up and threaded her fingers behind his neck, pulling him to her, his warm weight sinking her into the mattress without squashing her. Every part of him felt warm and strong and solid.

He kissed her, the deep soul-searching kind, while he tortured her with small thrusts of his hips. She clung to him, sinking her nails into his shoulders, his backside, her body arching with impatience. She’d never felt so out of control, so swept away with lust. It was as if Zack wanted to see her beg for it, wanted her to know she was completely under his control, and she was. She would do anything he wanted right now. Anything he asked.

It frightened her almost as much as it turned her on.