The CEO's Baby Surprise

And he knew then he wanted to get her in his bed.

It took half an hour to get her alone. Then he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back.

And before either of them had a chance to come up for air they were in his villa suite, tearing off clothes with little finesse and more eagerness than he’d felt in years. It had been a hot, wild night, compounded by months of abstinence and the fact he’d had Mary-Jayne Preston very much on his mind since the first time he’d seen her.

“Are you listening?”

Daniel shook off his thoughts and glanced to his left. Blake was staring at him, one brow cocked. “Always.”

Blake didn’t look convinced and quickly turned his attention to the other suits in the room. After a few more minutes, he dismissed the two other men, and once they were alone his brother moved to the bar and grabbed two imported beers from the fridge.

Daniel frowned. “A little early, don’t you think?”

Blake flicked the tops off the bottles and shrugged. “It’s after three. And you look as if you need it.”

He didn’t disagree, and stretched back in his leather chair. “Maybe I do.”

Blake passed him a beer and grabbed a seat. “Happy birthday,” his brother said, and clinked the bottle necks.

“Thanks,” he said but didn’t take a drink. The last thing he wanted to do was add alcohol to the remainders of a blinding headache.

His brother, who was probably the most intuitive person he’d ever known, looked at him as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. “You know, you should go home.”

“I live here, remember?”

Blake shook his head. “I meant home...not here. Port Douglas.”

Except Port Douglas didn’t feel any more like home than San Francisco, Phuket or Amalfi.

Nowhere did. Not since Simone had died. The bayside condo they’d bought still sat empty, and he lived in a villa at the San Francisco resort when he wasn’t at any of the other four locations. He’d been born in Australia and moved to California when he was two years old. The San Francisco resort was the first, which made it home, even though he’d spent most of his adult life shifting between the two countries.

He scowled. “I can’t do that right now.”

“Why not?” Blake shot back. “Caleb’s got the Phuket renovation under control. Things are sweet here in San Francisco.” His brother grinned. “You’re not really needed. CEOs are kind of superfluous to the running of a company anyhow. We all knew that when Gramps was at the helm.”

“Superfluous?”

Blake’s grin widened. “Yeah...like the foam on the top of an espresso to go... You know, there but not really necessary.”

“You’re an ass.”

His brother’s grin turned into a chuckle. “All I’m saying is that you haven’t taken a real break from this gig for years. Not even when...”

Not even when Simone died.

Four years, four months and three weeks ago. Give or take a day. She’d been driving back from a doctor’s appointment and had stopped at the mall for some shopping. The brakes on a car traveling in the opposite direction had failed. Simone had suffered terrible injuries and died an hour later in hospital. So had the baby she carried. He’d lost his wife and unborn daughter because of a broken brake line. “I’m fine,” he said, and tasted the lie on his tongue.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not,” Blake said, more serious. “And something’s been bugging you the past few months.”

Something. Someone. Green eyes... Black curling hair... Red lips...

Daniel drank some beer. “You’re imagining things. And stop fretting. You’re turning into your mother.”

His brother laughed loudly. They both knew that Blake was more like their father, Miles, than any of them. Daniel’s mother had died of a massive brain hemorrhage barely hours after his birth, and their father had married Bernadette two years later. Within six months the twins, Blake and Caleb, were born. Bernie was a nice woman and had always treated him like her own, and wasn’t as vague and hopeless as their father. Business acumen and ambition had skipped a generation, and now Miles spent his time painting and sculpting and living on their small hobby farm an hour west of Port Douglas.

Daniel finished the beer and placed the bottle on the table. “I don’t need a vacation.”

“Sure you do,” Blake replied. “If you don’t want to go to Australia, take a break somewhere else. Maybe Fiji? Or what about using that damned mausoleum that sits on that hill just outside Paris? Take some time off, relax, get laid,” his brother said, and grinned again. “Recharge like us regular folk have to do every now and then.”

“You’re as tied to this business as I am.”

“Yeah,” his brother agreed. “But I know when to quit. I’ve got my cabin in the woods, remember?”

Blake’s cabin was a sprawling Western red cedar house nestled on forty hectares he’d bought in small town Colorado a few years back. Daniel had visited once, hated the cold and being snowbound for days on end and decided that a warm climate was more his thing.

“I don’t need a—”

“Then, how about you think about what the rest of us need?” Blake said firmly. “Or what Caleb and I need, which isn’t you breathing down our necks looking for things we’re doing wrong because you’re so damned bored and frustrated that you can’t get out your own way. Basically, I need a break. So go home and get whatever’s bugging you out of your system and spend some time with Solana. You know you’ve always been her favorite.”

Daniel looked at his brother. Had he done that? Had he become an overzealous, critical jerk looking for fault in everything and everyone? And bored? Was that what he was? He did miss Solana. He hadn’t seen his grandmother since her birthday weekend. And it was excuse enough to see Mary-Jayne again—and get her out of his system once and for all.

He half smiled. “Okay.”

Chapter Two

“Everything all right?”

Mary-Jayne nodded and looked up from the plate of food she’d been pretending to give way too much attention. “Fine.”

“Are you still feeling unwell?” Solana asked. “You never did tell me what the doctor said.”

“Just a twenty-four-hour bug,” she replied vaguely. “And I feel fine now.”

Solana didn’t look convinced. “You’re still pale. Is that ex-boyfriend of yours giving you grief?”

The ex-boyfriend. The one she’d made up to avoid any nosy questions about what was becoming her rapidly expanding middle. The ex-boyfriend she’d say was the father of her baby until she summoned the nerve to tell Solana she was carrying her grandson’s child. Raised to have a solid moral compass, she was torn between believing the father of her baby had a right to know, and the fear that telling him would change everything. She was carrying Solana’s great-grandchild. An Anderson heir. Nothing would be the same.

Of course, she had no illusions. Daniel Anderson was not a man looking for commitment or a family. Solana had told her enough about him, from his closed-off heart to his rumored no-strings relationships. He’d lost the love of his life and unborn child and had no interest in replacing, either.

Not that she was interested in him in that way. She didn’t like him at all. He was arrogant and opinionated and as cold as a Popsicle. Oh, she’d certainly been swept away that one night. But one night of hot and heavy sex didn’t make them anything.

Still...they’d made a baby together, and as prepared as she was to raise her child alone, common courtesy made it very clear to her that she had to tell him. And soon. Before Solana or anyone else worked out that she was pregnant.

She had another two weeks at the store before Audrey returned, and once that was done, Mary-Jayne intended returning to Crystal Point to regroup and figure out how to tell Daniel he was about to become a father.

“I’m going to miss you when you leave,” Solana said and smiled. “I’ve grown very fond of our talks.”

So had Mary-Jayne. She’d become increasingly attached to the other woman over the past few months, and they lunched together at least twice a week. And Solana had been incredibly supportive of her jewelry designing and had even offered to finance her work and help expand the range into several well-known stores around the country. Of course Mary-Jayne had declined the offer. Solana was a generous woman, but she’d never take advantage of their friendship in such a way...good business or not.

“We’ll keep in touch,” Mary-Jayne assured her and ignored the nausea scratching at her throat. Her appetite had been out of whack for weeks and the sick feeling still hadn’t abated even though she was into her second trimester. Her doctor told her not to worry about it and assured her that her appetite would return, and had put her on a series of vitamins. But most days the idea of food before three in the afternoon was unimaginable.

“Yes, we must,” Solana said warmly. “Knowing you has made me not miss Renee quite so much,” she said of her granddaughter, who resided in London. “Of course, I get to see Caleb while I’m here and Blake when I’m in San Francisco. And Daniel when he’s done looking after things and flying in between resorts. But sometimes I wish for those days when they were kids and not spread all over the world.” The older woman put down her cutlery and sighed. “Listen to me, babbling on, when you must miss your own family very much.”

“I do,” she admitted. “I’m really close to my sisters and brother and I miss my parents a lot.”

“Naturally.” Solana’s eyed sparkled. “Family is everything.”

Mary-Jayne swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat, like she’d done countless times over the past few months. Her hormones were running riot, and with her body behaving erratically, it was getting harder to keep her feelings under wraps. One thing she did know—she wanted her baby. As unplanned as it was, as challenging as it might be being a single mother, she had developed a strong and soul-reaching love for the child in her womb.

Family is everything...

It was. She knew that. She’d been raised by wonderful parents and loved her siblings dearly. Her baby would be enveloped in that love. She could go home, and Daniel need never know about her pregnancy. She’d considered it. Dreamed of it.

Except...

It would be wrong. Dishonest. And wholly unfair.

“I should very much like to visit your little town one day,” Solana said cheerfully.

Crystal Point. It was a tiny seaside community of eight hundred people. From the pristine beaches to the rich soil of the surrounding farmlands, it would always be home, no matter where life took her.

“I’d like that, too,” she said, and pushed her plate aside.

“Not hungry?” Solana asked, her keen light gray eyes watching everything she did.

Mary-Jayne shrugged. “Not really. But it is delicious,” she said of the warm mango salad on her plate. “I’m not much use in the kitchen, so our lunches are always a nice change from the grilled-cheese sandwich I’d usually have.”

Solana grinned. “Didn’t your mother teach you to cook?”

“She tried, but I was something of a tomboy when I was young and more interested in helping my dad in his workshop,” she explained.

“Well, those skills can come in handy, too.”

Mary-Jayne nodded. “For sure. I can fix a leaking tap and build a bookcase...but a cheese toastie is about my limit in the kitchen.”

“Well, you’ll just have to find yourself a husband who can cook,” Solana suggested, smiling broadly.

“I’m not really in the market for a husband.” Not since I got knocked up by your grandson...

Solana smiled. “Nonsense. Everyone is looking for a soul mate...even a girl as independent and free-spirited as you.”

Mary-Jayne nodded vaguely. Independent and free-spirited? It was exactly how she appeared to the world. And exactly how she liked it. But for the most part, it was a charade. A facade to fool everyone into thinking she had it all together—that she was strong and self-sufficient and happy-go-lucky. She’d left home at seventeen determined to prove she could make it on her own, and had spent ten years treading water in the hope no one noticed she was just getting by—both financially and emotionally. Her family loved her, no doubt about it. As the youngest child she was indulged and allowed to do whatever she liked, mostly without consequence. Her role as the lovable but unreliable flake in the Preston family had been set from a young age. While her older brother, Noah, took over the family business, perennial earth-mother Evie married young and pursued her art, and übersmart Grace headed for a career in New York before she returned to Australia to marry the man she loved.

But for Mary-Jayne there were no such expectations, and no traditional career. She’d gotten her first piercing at fourteen and had a tattoo by the time she was fifteen. When school was over she’d found a job as a cashier in a supermarket and a month later moved out of her parents’ home and into a partly furnished cottage three streets away. She’d packed whatever she could fit into her battered Volkswagen and began her adult life away from the low expectations of her family. She never doubted their love...but sometimes she wished they expected more of her. Then perhaps she would have had more ambition, more focus.

Mary-Jayne pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’ll take the dishes to the kitchen.”

“Thank you. You’re a sweet girl, Mary-Jayne,” Solana said, and collected up the cutlery. “You know, I was just telling Caleb that very thing yesterday.”

It was another not-so-subtle attempt to play matchmaker.

Solana had somehow got it in her head that her younger grandson would be a good match for her. And the irony wasn’t lost on Mary-Jayne. She liked Caleb. He was friendly and charming and came into the store every couple of days and asked how things were going, and always politely inquired after Audrey. The resort staff all respected him, and he clearly ran a tight ship.

But he didn’t so much as cause a blip on her radar.

Unlike Daniel. He was the blip of the century.

Mary-Jayne ignored Solana’s words, collected the dishes and headed for the kitchen. Once there she took a deep breath and settled her hips against the countertop. Her stomach was still queasy, and she took a few deep breaths before she turned toward the sink and decided to make a start on the dishes. She filled the sink and was about to plunge her hands into the water when she heard a decisive knock on the front door, and then seconds later the low sound of voices. Solana had a visitor. Mary-Jayne finished the washing up, dried her hands and headed for the door.

And then stopped in her tracks.

Even though his back was to her she recognized Daniel Anderson immediately. The dark chinos and white shirt fitted him as though they’d been specifically tailored for his broad, well-cut frame. She knew those shoulders and every other part of him because the memory of the night they’d spent together was etched into her brain, and the result was the child growing inside her.

Perhaps he’d tracked her down to confront her? Maybe he knew?

Impossible.

No one knew she was pregnant. It was a coincidence. He’d forgotten all about her. He hadn’t called since she’d told him to go to hell. He’d returned to see his grandmother. Mary-Jayne’s hand moved to her belly, and she puffed out the smock-style shirt she wore. If she kept her arms to her sides and kept her clothing as loose as possible it was unlikely he’d notice her little baby bump. She lingered by the doorway, her mind racing at a trillion miles an hour.

Solana was clearly delighted to see him and hugged him twice in succession. “What a wonderful surprise,” his grandmother said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Then it’s not a surprise,” he replied. “Is it?”

As they chatted Mary-Jayne moved back behind the architrave and considered her options. Come clean? Act nonchalant? Make a run for it? Running for it appealed most. This wasn’t the time or place to make any kind of announcement about being pregnant, not with Solana in the room. She needed time to think. Prepare.

I have to get out of here.

The back door was through the kitchen and off the dining room. But if she sneaked out through the back Solana would want to know why. There would be questions. From Solana. And then from Daniel.

“Show some backbone,” she muttered to herself.

She’d always had gumption. Now wasn’t the time to ditch her usual resolve and act like a frightened little girl. Mary-Jayne was about to push back her shoulders and face the music when an unwelcome and unexpected wave of nausea rose up and made her suddenly forget everything else. She put a hand to her chest, heaved and swallowed hard, fighting the awful feeling with every ounce of willpower she possessed.

And failed.

She rushed forward to the closest exit, racing past Solana and him and headed across the room and out to the patio, just making it to the garden in time.

Where she threw up in spectacular and humiliating fashion.

* * *

Daniel remained where he was and watched as his grandmother hurried through the doorway and quickly attended to the still-vomiting woman who was bent over in the garden. If he thought he was needed Daniel would have helped, but he was pretty sure she would much prefer his grandmother coming to her aid.

After several minutes both women came back through the door. Mary-Jayne didn’t look at him. Didn’t even acknowledge he was there as she walked to the front door and let herself out, head bowed, arms rigid at her sides. But he was rattled seeing her. And silently cursed himself for having so little control over the effect she had on him.

“The poor thing,” his grandmother said, hovering in the doorway before she finally closed the door. “She’s been unwell for weeks. Ex-boyfriend trouble, too, I think. Not that she’s said much to me about it...but I think there’s been someone in the picture.”

Boyfriend?

His gut twinged. “Does she need a doctor?” he asked, matter-of-fact.

“I don’t think so,” his grandmother replied. “Probably just a twenty-four-hour bug.”

Daniel ignored the twitch of concern. Mary-Jayne had a way of making him feel a whole lot of things he didn’t want or need. Attraction aside, she invaded his thoughts when he least expected it. She needled his subconscious. Like she had when he’d been on a date a couple of weeks back. He’d gone out with the tall leggy blonde he’d met at a business dinner, thinking she’d be a distraction. And spent the evening wishing he’d been with someone who would at least occasionally disagree and not be totally compliant to his whims. Someone like Mary-Jayne Preston. He’d ended up saying good-night to his date by nine o’clock, barely kissing her hand when he dropped her home. Sure, he didn’t want a serious relationship, but he didn’t want boring conversation and shallow sex, either.

And since there had been nothing boring or shallow about the night he’d spent with the bewitching brunette, Daniel still wanted her in his bed. Despite his good sense telling him otherwise.

“So,” Solana said, and raised her hands. “Why have you come home?”

“To see you. Why else?”

She tutted. “Always a question with a question. Even as a toddler you were inquisitive. Always questioning everything, always asking why to your grandfather. Your brothers were never as curious about things as you were. Do you remember when you were eight and persuaded your grandfather to let you ride that mad, one-eyed pony your dad saved from the animal rescue center?” She shook her head and grinned. “Everyone wanted to know why you’d want to get on such a crazy animal. And all you said was, why not?”

Daniel shrugged. “As I recall I dislocated my collarbone.”

“And scared Bernie and me half to death,” Solana said and chuckled. “You were a handful, you know. Always getting into scraps. Always pushing the envelope. Amazing you turned out so sensible.”

“Who say’s I’m sensible?” he inquired lightly.

Solana’s smile widened. “Me. Your brothers. Your grandfather if he was still alive.”

“And Miles?”

His grandmother raised a silvery brow. “I think your dad would like you to be a little less sensible.”

“I think my father would like me to eat tofu and drive a car that runs on doughnut grease.”

“My son is who he is,” Solana said affectionately. “Your grandfather never understood Miles and his alternative ways. But your dad knows who he is and what he wants from life. And he knows how to relax and enjoy the simple things.”

Daniel didn’t miss the dig. It wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of being an uptight killjoy by his family. “I can relax.”

His grandmother looked skeptical. “Well, perhaps you can learn to while you’re here.”

Daniel crossed his arms. Something about her tone made him suspicious. “You knew I was coming?”

Solana nodded, clearly unapologetic. “Blake called me. And of course it was my idea.” She sat down at the table. “Did you know your grandfather had his first heart attack at thirty-nine?”

Daniel sighed. He’d heard it before. Mike Anderson died at sixty-nine from a massive coronary. His fourth. After two previous bypass surgeries the final heart attack had been swift and fatal, killing him before he’d had a chance to get up from his desk. “Gran, I—”

“Don’t fob me off with some vague assurance that it won’t happen to you,” she said, cutting him off. “You work too hard. You don’t take time off. You’ve become as defined by Anderson Holdings as your grandfather was...and all it got him was an early grave. There’s more to life than business.”

He would have dismissed the criticism from anyone else...but not Solana. He loved and respected his grandmother, and her opinion was one of the few that mattered to him.

“I know that. But I’m not ready to—”

“It’s been over four years,” Solana reminded him gently. “And time you got back to the land of the living. Simone wouldn’t want you to—”

“Gran,” Daniel said, hanging on to his patience. “I know you’re trying to help. And I promise I’ll relax and unwind while I’m here. I’m back for a week so I’ll—”

“You’ll need more than a week to unwind,” she said, cutting him off again. “But if that’s all you can manage then so be it. And your parents are expecting you to visit, in case you were thinking you’d fly under the radar while you’re here.”

Guilt spiked between his shoulder blades. Solana had a way of doing that. And he hadn’t considered not seeing his father and stepmother. Not really. True, he had little in common with Miles and Bernadette...but they were his parents, and he knew they’d be genuinely pleased that he’d come home for a visit.

From a young age he’d known where his path lay. He was who his grandfather looked to as his protégé. At eighteen he’d been drafted into Anderson’s, studying economics at night school so he could learn the business firsthand from his grandfather. At twenty-three, following Mike Anderson’s death, he’d taken over the reins and since then he’d lived and breathed Anderson’s. Blake and Caleb had followed him a few years later, while Daniel remained at the helm.

He worked and had little time for anything resembling a personal life. Simone had understood that. She was a corporate lawyer and worked seventy-hour weeks. Marrying her had made sense. They were a good match...alike in many ways, and they’d been happy together. And would still be together if fate and a faulty brake line hadn’t intervened. She’d still be a lawyer and he would still spend his waking hours living and breathing Anderson Holdings. And they would be parents to their daughter. Just as they’d planned.

Daniel stretched his shoulders and stifled a yawn. He was tired. Jet-lagged. But if he crashed in the afternoon he’d feel worse. The trick to staying on top of the jet lag was keeping normal sleep patterns. Besides, there were two things he wanted to do—take a shower, and see Mary-Jayne Preston.