Magnate's Mistress...Accidentally Pregnant!

“Mrs. Hogsten!” The desk clerk approaching her was a wet blanket on her rapidly heating thoughts. She sighed in disgust. Whatever happened to impersonal hotels where none of the employees knew or even cared who you were? She’d love that about now.

“Not Hogsten. Smith. Or even Ally is fine.”

“Of course, my apologies.” At least the pitying look was gone. Instead the desk clerk looked amused as he saw Chris standing so closely beside her. “We have a message for you.”

“Thanks.” She took the piece of paper and glanced at it quickly as the clerk left. “Call home.” Not tonight, she thought, as she stuffed it into her purse. Turning to the far more interesting Chris, she smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Is everything okay?” The concern she saw in his eyes was kind, but she wanted that other light back. The light that said he was interested in her, not what was on a piece of paper in her purse. The one that made her insides turn over and her skin tingle.

“Just my family checking in.”

That other look came back into his eyes, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered to life. “Good.” Chris took her hand and led her toward the door. “It’s a beautiful evening and the restaurant’s not far. Mind if we walk?”

At the moment she’d gladly walk to hell and back if he’d keep looking at her like she was dessert. Pull yourself together before you jump on him. At least try to act casual about this.

The evening was beautiful and warm, and Ally inhaled the hibiscus-scented air deeply as they walked. This was the stuff books were written about, walking at night on a tropical island hand in hand with a gorgeous man who—

“There seems to be some confusion about your name at the hotel.”

I will not let reality spoil this moment. “Yeah. Well, it’s kind of a—”

“Long story?” Chris finished for her, flashing a smile that made her gooey inside.

“Exactly. And boring to boot. How about you tell me where we’re headed instead?”

“Have you ever had pepper-pot soup?”

She stomped down the urge to skip. “Nope, but it sounds great. Remember, I’m all about new experiences this week. I’m game for pretty much anything.”

Chris stopped walking and pulled her into the shadow of a huge mango tree. Warm hands settled on her shoulders, and Ally forgot to breathe. “Glad to hear it. In fact…”

It was all the warning she got before his mouth touched hers.

His lips were warm and soft and gentle, but she could feel the restraint, the tension in his hands as they moved up to cup her face and his thumbs stroked over her cheekbones. Rising up on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around him as his tongue touched hers.

And everything changed.

This. This was the kind of kiss myths were built around. Heat and hunger radiated from Chris’s body, warming her blood and making it sing through her veins in answer to the need he stirred in her.

She’d never been kissed like this before, and her world shrank until all that existed was Chris and the feel of him against her and the taste of him on her lips.

A brief jolt of anger moved through her at the thought of all the kisses she’d wasted on Gerry. His lazy, perfunctory, be-happy-you’re-getting-anything kisses had never moved her like this.

Like this, she thought, and banished Gerry from her mind as Chris’s fingers massaged her scalp, and her knees turned to water. Chris caught her weight as she wobbled, fitting her tightly against him, and what little sanity she had left fled at the sensation: scorching kisses along the tender skin of her neck; the play of muscles under her fingers and the thump of his heart against the chest pressed tightly to hers. The bark of the mango tree bit into her back, but she didn’t care.

“Ally,” Chris whispered, the sound slowly filtering through the erotic haze around her, and she shivered at hearing her name on his lips.

She opened her eyes to find him staring intently at her, his fingers still tangled in her hair and his thumbs gently stroking her temples. But there was nothing gentle in the way he looked at her, and the fire burning in those blue eyes sent a shiver deep into her stomach.

Chris shuddered, his breath coming in quick pants like her own. She was glad to see she hadn’t been the only one to be shaken by the power of that kiss. She didn’t have much experience to draw on, but she knew the feeling was mutual. Tightening her fingers on the fabric of his shirt, she pulled him closer, wanting more.

“This isn’t exactly the right place.”

Belatedly, she realized he was right. While not crowded by any stretch of the imagination, there were other people on the street, and several of them were watching the display with interest. She should be mortified, slinking away in embarrassment, but surprisingly she didn’t care in the least.

“And, if you plan on actually having dinner tonight, we should probably stop.” His fingers slid out of her hair, and she could feel the braid hanging drunkenly to one side as he toyed with the loose strands. A rueful smile played on his lips.

Dinner? She didn’t give a tinker’s damn about dinner. The only thing she was hungry for was the man plastered against her like some kind of fantasy in the flesh.

Chris sighed and shifted his weight and Ally tightened her grip to keep him from moving away. For a brief moment indecision nibbled at her. She should let him go. She should go on to dinner. She should act nonchalantly about what just happened. A lifetime’s experience of responsibility and rationality told her to backtrack to the getting-to-know-you steps they’d leapfrogged over with that kiss.

I don’t want to.

The realization shook her to the soles of her plain brown sandals. The sandals were the tipping point. They were practical, boring and suddenly symbolic of her entire existence. She didn’t even have sexy, pretty shoes in her life, much less men like Chris.

Chris.

He hadn’t moved since she’d tightened her hold on him, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there dithering with herself. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw the heat and the question there, and her decision became crystal clear.

“I’m not in the least bit hungry, but if you are, I do know a place that delivers to my hotel.”

CHAPTER THREE

ALLY SHOULD COME with a warning label attached. Her words came out of nowhere—okay, not exactly nowhere but close enough—to slam into him with a desire that was almost painful. Underneath that artless, wholesome sensuality and cheeky grin was a woman very dangerous to his sanity.

He hadn’t meant for the kiss to get out of hand. He just hadn’t been able to go another moment without tasting her. The sweetness had been expected, but it was the fire that had caused him to lose control of the situation.

Hell, he’d lost what was left of his mind. Ally deserved better than a mauling against a mango tree in full view of a dozen witnesses. She tensed and he dragged his attention back to her face, only to immediately wish he hadn’t. Her eyes were dark and hungry, her lips swollen and moist from his kiss. Public or not, up against a mango tree or not, he didn’t care.

He just needed her hands on him again.

“Food can wait.”

Her breath caught and she reached for his hand as she turned.

Thank God they hadn’t made it very far. Retracing their steps took only a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. Ally’s hands shook as she tried to unlock the door, fumbling the keys.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and took over the task, silently agreeing with Ally’s muttered “Thank goodness” as they were able to close the door behind them.

One lamp glowed beside the very inviting bed, its sheets already turned down by the hotel staff. The window stood open, allowing the quiet evening sounds of the island to drift in.

Ally seemed slightly uncomfortable once they were alone, her movements stiff as she dropped her bag in a chair and reached up to feel the lopsided braid and try to tuck the haphazard strands back in.

Her hands fell to her sides as he reached for the band securing what was left and freed the curls to riot around her tense shoulders.

“You should wear your hair down more often, Ally.” He threaded his hands back through the silkiness, and her shoulders relaxed as his fingers found her scalp.

Eyes closed, Ally’s head lolled back, exposing the lovely line of her throat, and his lips took the invitation. She hummed in pleasure, and the vibration moved through his body as he pulled her close once again.

The contact brought her to life once again, the tension leaving her body as she moved against him. He took a moment to just enjoy the sensation, patient this time to savor it as he knew he’d be able to feel all of her in just a few more minutes.

But Ally’s hands locked around his shoulders as she moved into him, pressing her lips to his in needy hunger, and all of his good intentions to go slow went up in the flames she fanned in his blood.

Ally felt like she was on fire. She needed to touch him. Needed to prove to herself he was real. Needed to feel him against her, in her. And she wanted all of it now.

The buttons on Chris’s shirt gave way easily, and the chest she’d admired earlier in the day was hers to explore. Her fingers traced the ridges of muscle, and when she retraced her path with her tongue, Chris sucked in his breath in pleasure as his hands tightened in her hair.

A boldness she didn’t know she possessed surfaced and she reached for the waistband of his pants. Chris’s stomach contracted at her touch, giving her room to release the button and slide the zipper over the bulge, causing her thighs to clench in anticipation.

“My turn.” Chris stopped her hands and lifted them over her head before he grabbed the cotton sundress and tugged it off in one smooth movement.

For one brief moment, she felt exposed and uncomfortable, but that feeling was soon chased away as Chris tumbled her to the bed. An acre of bronze skin loomed before the hot weight of him covered her and blocked out any thoughts beyond the screaming need his hands were creating as they moved over her skin.

One toe-curling kiss melded into the next as Chris’s tongue flicked against hers like a promise. But when his mouth moved lower, trailing moist heat along the swell of her breasts, she nearly arched off the bed in response. The loss of her bra vaguely registered, followed by the whispery slide of her panties down her thighs.

The featherlight kisses across her stomach were driving her mad. She reached for him, but his fingers locked around her wrist and pulled it over her head. Her other wrist soon followed, and Chris wrapped her fingers around the iron rails of the headboard.

His chest pressed against hers, the crisp hairs tickling sensitive skin, as she savored the feel of him against her from breasts to toes. Blue eyes locked into hers as he held her wrists in place.

“I told you I’d do all the work. That all you had to do was lie back and enjoy.”

“I thought we were talking about sailing.” Lord, was that whispery voice hers?

Even in the shadows of the room, she saw his grin. “No, you didn’t.” Then his head dropped to capture her nipple between his lips.

Yesss, she thought, and then she wasn’t able to think anymore.

“This is amazing. Really wonderful.” After an hour of worrying she’d fall off the boat—yacht, catamaran, whatever it was called—she was finally growing used to the feeling and began to understand the attraction sailing held.

“Then could you quit white-knuckling the edge of the tramp? You’re doing serious damage to my ego.”

“Your ego is in no danger at all.” Sure enough, though, she was still gripping the edge of the trampoline suspended between the two hulls as though her life depended on it. With a great show, she let go of the edge and stretched her arms out to catch the wind.

“That’s better.” He leaned over to give her a quick kiss.

Ah, yes, sailing was becoming more attractive by the minute. Or at least sailing with Chris was. Completely in his element, he controlled the boat with ease as the wind ruffled his hair.

She had vague memories of Chris kissing her goodbye in the small hours of the morning, saying he had some things to do before they set sail. She’d half expected never to see him again and had gone back to sleep with a touch of regret. Not about sleeping with him—oh, no, that topped her list of best decisions ever made—but that she didn’t have the guts to ask him to stay.

So when he’d shown up around ten that morning with a heart-stopping smile and a picnic basket, Ally had had to fight the urge to pull him straight back into bed and spend the rest of her trip there.

But this was good, too. She had a great view of his gift-from-the-gods body as he pulled on ropes and adjusted sails. Blue shorts rode low on his hips, and now that she no longer needed a death grip on the trampoline, she itched to touch him again.

She still couldn’t believe she’d actually…well, not to put too fine a point on it, that she’d had the most amazing sex of her life with this man. He was too good to be true. But, oh, Lord, the things he’d done to her. She hadn’t known, never even dreamed of the possibilities. Even now, her nipples tightened with need, and a fire burned low in her belly.

The little Beach-Cat, as Chris had called it, had one major flaw: zero privacy. The open design of the boat meant anyone could see what they were doing. Not that there were many folks in sight…

She resigned herself to just putting her hand on his leg instead and looked forward to getting back to shore as soon as possible.

“Are we headed someplace specific?”

Chris adjusted the sails again and the little boat leaped forward as it caught the wind. “There’s a little cove just around the point of the island I thought we could explore. I understand it’s pretty secluded.”

Her stomach flipped over at the thought. Maybe Chris’s thoughts were headed in the same direction as hers.

“But we have a little while before we get there. Why don’t you tell me that long story of how you came to be on Tortola alone.”

Ugh. Her blissful fantasy was torpedoed by the thought of home. “In a nutshell, I was supposed to come with someone, but that was canceled months ago. The trip was prepaid, and I didn’t want it to go to waste, even if none of my friends could come with me.”

“Let me guess. That ‘someone’ is an ex.”

Gerry’s blond good looks and petulant pout flashed into her mind. Why had she been willing to settle for someone so shallow? “Very much an ex. Thank goodness.”

“Agreed. His loss is my gain.”

Looking for a way to change the subject before Gerry could spoil her good mood, she went back to sailing. “Does the Circe go this fast?”

“We’re not going all that fast. Three or four knots, maybe. You could probably get out and run faster than this. And the Circe will go a lot faster than four knots.”

Pride filled his voice every time he mentioned the Circe. “That ship—”

“Yacht.”

“Sorry, that ‘yacht’ means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

“I’ve been wanting to buy her for a long time, so yeah, I’m pretty pleased she’s now mine. But, as you saw, she needs a lot of work. A couple of my friends came by today to work on her, in fact.”

A tiny twinge of guilt nagged at her that he’d ditched his repairs of the Circe for her. At the same time, she was very glad he had. She stretched out on the trampoline, belatedly realizing she must be getting used to sailing to want to get comfortable. Or maybe it was just the matter-of-fact way Chris handled the cat that put her at ease. The man was born to be on the water, which led her to wonder what he did when he wasn’t.

“Where’s home for you?”

Chris ran a hand down her side and over the curve of her hip, where his thumb slid under the string of her bikini bottom. “I guess you could now say it’s wherever the Circe is.”

“Really?” She hadn’t thought about that possibility. She’d just assumed…well, she wasn’t sure what she’d assumed. “But you are American. In fact, with that accent I’d say you grew up somewhere on the southern East Coast.”

“South Carolina.”

“I’m a Georgia girl myself.”

“Let me guess. Savannah.”

“You’re good.”

“At many things.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively at her, and the hand at her hip moved promisingly.

“Oh, I fully agree with that.” And she smoothed her hand across his thigh and felt the muscle jump. Chris wanted her. She reveled in the feeling; just a couple of days ago, she had believed she was a boring, plain-Jane loser magnet, but here she was. It couldn’t be real: Ally Smith, Femme Fatale. Oh, her ego definitely needed this.

Another circle of his thumb reminded her that her ego wasn’t the only needy part of her. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but she could feel them roam over her body. Even with the heat of the sun on her, she shivered.

A sail flapped and Chris cursed, reaching for the rope and quickly running it through a cleat. Ally was almost glad for the distraction; Chris’s undivided attention was a heady thing. She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the movement of the water lull her as Chris made easy conversation.

But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A bump pulled her out of her languor, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Chris jump off the boat. She sat up quickly. “What the—ouch!”

“I told you to watch out for the boom.”

Turning to find his voice, she realized the bump she’d felt had been the cat’s hulls reaching the shore. Chris gave a mighty pull, and the boat slid partially out of the water onto the sand.

“Are you okay?” Chris splashed in the shallow water to her side of the boat, his brow wrinkled in concern.

“I’m fine.”

“Then come on.” He held out a hand and pulled her into the surf with him.

The water was cool, a nice contrast to her sun-toasted skin, and clear enough to see her feet on the bottom. Chris moved into deeper water, pulling her gently along with him. She lifted her feet and held on to his arm, allowing herself to float slightly. The shoreline was empty, and no other boats had moored in the little cove. They were very much alone, an advantage Chris seemed keen to act upon as he pulled her legs around his waist. Strong hands dug into her hips as Chris’s mouth found that magic spot on her neck.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he growled. “That bikini wouldn’t adequately cover a Barbie doll. I nearly ran us aground on the sandbar.” His teeth found the string holding her top up, and untied the bow with a simple tug. The grip on her hips loosened, forcing her to grab his shoulders for support as he made quick work of the second string around her back. A second later, her pink top was floating toward shore.

“Um, Chris…”

“There’s no one here but us. No one to see you except me. And I want to see all of you.”

His lips captured hers for another mind-blowing kiss, but she felt him unhook her legs and quickly slide the bikini bottom off. Chris’s trunks bobbed to the surface as he hooked her legs around him again, but this time, no fabric separated them. She moaned at the sensation and he echoed the sound as she moved against him, wanting to feel more.

Although the bathing suit hadn’t covered much, being naked in the water was still a shock. She hadn’t been skinny-dipping since…well, ever. It was decadent and natural and intensely erotic.

Her breasts felt overly sensitized as the water lapped over them, and the position she was in offered him easy access. One arm held her firmly around her waist as his hand captured her breast, caressing it as his thumb grazed across her nipple.

“Ever made love in the ocean, Ally?”

“N-no,” she managed to wheeze.

One eyebrow arched up, and the gentle caress became more insistent. “Then I’m glad you’re open to new adventures this week.”

She hissed as his tongue swirled around her nipple before he pulled it into the heat of his mouth. Oh, yes. New adventures. Sign her up for more, as long as Chris would be her trail guide.

While the nips of his teeth drove her insane, one hand snaked between her legs to find her core. She shuddered as he teased her, his fingers urging her to the edge. How could his skin feel so hot in the cool water? A finger slid inside her, and she rocked her hips into his hand, seeking more. Chris returned the pressure, the heel of his hand hard against her as he urged her on with hot words whispered into her ear.

All she could do was hold on, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she climaxed.

Still thrumming with aftershocks, she opened her eyes to meet Chris’s deep blue stare. The intensity there rocked her, causing a rush she couldn’t identify, but she couldn’t look away.

She kissed him instead, holding his head and pressing her lips to his in an urgent need to share the feeling. Chris’s hand moved, withdrawing from her and she ached at the loss.

But it was blessedly short-lived, as Chris cupped his hands under her thighs, lifted her, and slipped easily inside. Gasping, she tightened her legs, squeezing herself against him until their bodies met. Shudders gave way to full-out tremors as he filled her.

Her senses seemed to sharpen, bringing everything into focus—the gentle lapping of the water against their skin, the waves landing on the beach behind her, the warm rays of the sun on her back and shoulders, the throb of Chris inside her, the rapid pounding of her heart, the sounds of their ragged breathing.

Then Chris started to move, holding and guiding her, and her focus narrowed. Nothing existed except this man and the pleasure rapidly peaking inside her. She trusted him to take her all the way, to hold her, please her and not let her drown, so she let herself go, chanting his name in rhythm to his thrusts. As she shattered, she felt Chris pull her close. A moment later, he held her hips tightly against him as powerful shudders moved under her fingers.

“Still feeling adventurous, Ally?”

With a huge effort, she was able to lift her head from his shoulder and open her eyes. One corner of his amazingly kissable mouth curved up in a challenge.

“Definitely.”

“Then let’s head to shore. I have a surprise for you…”

She felt drunk, more so than the bottle of wine she’d shared with Chris in the cove hours ago could be responsible for. No, she was definitely drunk on sex and sun and the sea—and, of course the man responsible for the best day of her entire life.

Chris helped her off the boat, his hands holding her waist longer than necessary, but she was having trouble keeping her hands off him, as well. The sun had been setting by the time they left their little cove, and a full moon now rode high in the sky, giving her just enough light to see the adorable crinkles around his eyes as he smiled at her.

He brushed his lips gently across hers before pushing the hair back from her face. “I really hate to leave you here, but I need to get the cat back, and there’re some things on the Circe I really need to check on…”

“It’s okay. Go. I’m completely exhausted. I desperately need a shower and some sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. You’ve worn me out.” She rose up on tiptoe for one last kiss. She meant it to be quick, but Chris held her head in his hands and deepened it into a libido-rocking kiss that was both gentle and powerful at the same time. Little flames of desire began to lick at her, and she wondered if she’d ever get enough of him.

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