Pregnant on the Upper East Side? / The Billionaire in Penthouse B: Pregnant on the Upper East Side?

He skimmed her curves, kneaded her bottom. His tongue and hands worked magic, arousing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced as they flexed into her flesh. She kissed him back, tangling her fingers in his hair and arching as tight against him as she could get. It wasn’t close enough. She wanted to wind herself around him but settled for lifting her leg, sliding it up the outside of his hair-roughened, rock-hard, muscled thigh and hooking it around his waist. He grasped her knee and arched his hips, plunging deep inside her. The shock of his sudden penetration filled her, forcing the breath from her lungs on a moan of pure ecstasy.

He withdrew and then rocked upward again and again, nearly lifting her off the ground with each thrust. Her heart raced and every muscle in her body clenched with need as he drove deep, so deep inside her.

Alex swung her around and her world tilted. She felt herself falling. She clung to his shoulders and whimpered into his mouth, but he didn’t drop her. He eased her onto the mattress. Cool sheets pressed against her back, but it was the hot body above her and driving into her that held her rapt attention.

She tore her mouth free to gasp for air and buried her face in his neck. She couldn’t resist a nibble. He smelled good, tasted good, felt good. Around her. Over her. Inside her. Tension coiled below her navel. She squeezed him tight internally and externally, clasped his tight buttocks and pulled him in deeper still.

His groan reverberated against her chest. With each thrust he teased exactly the right spot, and she was getting close, so close. He captured her shoulders and barrelrolled them sideways until he was on his back and she straddled him on her knees.

“Finish us,” he ordered hoarsely. His hand found her breasts.

She’d never been much for taking orders, but when he tweaked her nipples like that, sending darts of pleasure straight to her core, she would do pretty much anything he asked. She rose above him and then sank down, taking as much of him as she could. Over and over she filled herself with him, rose and dropped, swiveled and rocked. Again and again. His blunt-cut nails raked down her belly to comb through her pale curls. He found her center and buffed her with his thumb.

She wanted to wait, to savor, to explore the tension twisting tighter with each caress, but it had been too long. She couldn’t hold off. Ecstasy exploded through her, radiating outward in shock wave after shock wave. Her muscles contracted, whipping her forward until she and Alex were face to face, breast to breast, her palms planted beside his head. She lost herself in the hunger burning in his eyes, hunger for her that beat anything she’d experienced before. He gripped her hips as he thrust upward, harder and faster, and then his eyes squeezed shut and his body bowed off the bed as release jerked through him, setting off a series of tiny aftershocks inside her.

Their rapid breaths mingled as she stared at the handsome face beneath hers and tried to right her world. She’d had sex with demanding, impatient, workaholic Alex Harper. And she was absolutely certain she was going to regret that…in a minute.

But right now she felt too damned good to worry that Alex Harper had just given her the best sex of her life.

Alex Harper was a god in bed. Amanda could have lived without that knowledge.

Muscles quivering, she fell back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath and listening to Alex doing the same beside her. Wow.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions. And she had paved miles of it last night. She’d meant to send Alex packing the second he’d arrived. But the fresh, still warm donuts, along with the possibility of another party contract, had defeated her.

And then she’d meant to kick him out when he licked her fingers, igniting a blaze inside her. But she hadn’t been able to say the words no or go.

She’d planned to send him home after they made love the first time. And again after the second. But somehow they’d ended up sharing dinner while watching the second half of the Giants game naked before climbing back into bed, where he’d held her until she’d fallen asleep.

Third time the charm? Could she rally her willpower this time? And did she really want to?

Starting a Tuesday morning with multiple orgasms beat an alarm clock any day of the week. She smiled to herself and turned her head to find Alex’s dark eyes focused on her.

Her heart skipped a beat. Having him here felt too good. Too right. “You should go.”

“In a minute. Right now I don’t think I could stand.” He delivered the words with a rueful but naughty smile that practically turned her wrong-side-outward.

The scent of their lovemaking permeated her bedroom. The lingering fatigue of a busy night weighted her muscles. Amanda wasn’t sure she had the strength to crawl to the shower and prepare for her morning appointment. Alex had even farther to go.

“How will you make it to Connecticut and back in time for work?”

“I keep a spare suit at the office. I’ll shower here. With you.”

A thrill raced through her, but she choked out a laugh. “I don’t have to be psychic to know how that’ll end up. With both of us being late for work.”

He grinned and rolled onto his side. But then his smile faded. He gently brushed the hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Come home with me this weekend.”

Her lungs refused to work.

“We never discussed Zack’s party. He’s a great kid. If you meet him you’ll get a feel for what he likes, and we’ll have a better chance of surprising him with something that’ll blow his mind.”

Work. He’s talking about work. Focus. “You want this to be a surprise party?”

“Yes. Spend the weekend at my place. You can meet Zack and my parents.”

She recoiled. The last thing she needed was for her mom and dad to get wind of her dating Alex. He would be the only man she’d ever hooked up with that they would consider suitable. And she was throwing him back just as soon as she came to her senses.

“Alex, we don’t have and will never have a meet-the-parents kind of relationship.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m implying. You need to visit my parents’ house. That’s probably the best place for the party if we want to keep it under wraps. If after you see the place you don’t like that idea, then I’d like to have the party somewhere else in Greenwich so Zack’s friends can come. You’ll have to help me choose an alternate location.”

Why did he keep making offers she couldn’t afford to refuse? She sighed. “If I say yes to spending the weekend with you, you’re not going to take it the wrong way and think this affair is more than temporary insanity, are you?”

He rolled over her, planting his knees between hers and propping his elbows on either side of her body. His eyes held hers and his breath teased her lips. Desire stirred anew. “This relationship will last only as long as it’s beneficial to both of us.”

And with his body intimately connected to hers it was hard not to appreciate the benefits of their association. But uncertainty nagged her, tensing muscles that had been completely lax just moments ago.

She forced herself to relax. She needed this job and any other that Alex could throw her way. She could handle whatever else came up. And he was hellaciously good in bed.

“Okay. I’ll come to Greenwich with you.”

Amanda had known Alex was loaded, but she hadn’t expected his home to be a large estate at the end of a winding, white-fenced, paddock-lined road in the Greenwich backcountry.

She followed him into the sprawling stone center hall colonial Friday evening and paused in the two-storied marbled and wainscoted foyer. To her left she could see a living room with a soaring stone fireplace, a wet bar and a suede sectional sofa.

“Alex, this is nice.”

“Were you expecting a bachelor pad?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You do have a reputation as a guy with a short attention span.”

“Is that why you kept playing hard to get?”

“I told you I wasn’t playing. I am hard to get. Not that you’d know it by this week’s performance.”

His lips tilted in that sexy, I’m-going-to-get-you-in-trouble-and-you’re-going-to-love-it smile that made her insides hum like a beehive. He set their bags at the foot of the stairs and strolled toward her, lazily, but with a predatory glint in his eyes that quickened her pulse. “I have no complaints with your performance.”

Her body flushed from her center to her fingertips, which she pressed to his chest to stop the embrace she saw coming. “Nor I yours, but we’ll never get the details of your party finalized if you don’t quit distracting me.”

Alex had come to her place two of the past three evenings after work under the guise of planning his party. He’d spent the nights, but not working on arrangements. She hadn’t started regretting the involvement yet. But she knew she would. Her relationships always came back to bite her.

He captured her hand with his, lacing their fingers. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”

“Don’t we have to be at your parents’ for dinner soon?”

Mischief glinted in his eyes. She’d seen that look often enough recently to know it meant he wanted her naked, and if she gave him about three seconds’ leeway she’d want it, too. Anticipation made her pulse stutter.

“That’s why you’re getting the abbreviated tour. Otherwise I’d be showing you my bedroom from beneath the sheets. You wouldn’t see much of the house that way.” The man oozed sexuality.

Desire pulsed through her. She tamped it down. “Lead on.”

Her heels tapped out a beat on the hardwood floors as he whisked her past a cherry-paneled study, formal living and dining rooms and through the gourmet eat-in kitchen with black-granite countertops. The place begged for a family to fill it and for a woman to soften the stark decor with a vase of flowers here and there or a few knickknacks or framed photographs.

Did Alex plan to marry and have children? She’d never heard of him staying with anyone long enough to get close to settling down. But why own a place like this if he didn’t plan to start a family?

And why do you care?

You don’t.

She followed him outside onto a limestone-tile patio. Her breath clouded the cold night air. Outdoor lighting illuminated a lap pool that had to be at least fifty feet long. In the shadows beyond the subtle glow she caught hints of lawn and in the distance a low stone wall like the one out front. Evergreen trees mingled with the bare-limbed deciduous variety—one of which had a huge branch perfect for a rope swing. Alex’s home would be the perfect place to raise children.

Children. She’d never thought about having them. And couldn’t now. Her life was a mess. Until she had that straightened out, she couldn’t think about adding complications. But she suddenly wondered if she was missing out.

Of course not. What do you know about good parenting? Nada.

She hugged her coat tighter around her to ward off the frosty air. “You said bring a swimsuit, but it’s too cold to swim.”

“I have a hot tub if you want to brave it later.” He pointed toward a sheltered corner of the patio. “But my parents have an indoor pool. Tomorrow we can swim with Zack, and you can try to get a feel for what kind of party he’d like.”

He led her back inside and up the stairs to a vaultedceiling bedroom decorated in black, white and grey. A king-size bed with a raw-silk pewter bedspread and a massive, carved cherry headboard took up only a quarter of the large room. A gas fireplace with a cozy sitting area had been centered on the wall opposite the bed, and French doors led to a Juliet balcony overlooking the pool and large backyard. She suspected the view from the windows would be beautiful and green in summer.

The room reminded her of Alex. Luxurious, but no frills, no clutter.

Her gaze returned to the bed she’d be sharing with him. It didn’t bother her that she’d be just one of many to pass through it.

It didn’t.

Yes, it did. And that made no sense. She had no claim on him. And didn’t want one.

“Is this where you entertain your women?” She wanted the catty words back the instant she said them. Why had she said them? She wasn’t usually the type to blurt out her thoughts.

“I don’t bring women here. I go to their place. You might have noticed the express-train commute and climbing into a cold car at the depot isn’t exactly romantic.” Alex left his Mercedes at the station every day before heading for Manhattan.

She smiled. “I can see how a forty-minute ride on the express train could kill the mood.”

He stroked a fingertip along her jaw, sending ripples of arousal through her. “Has it killed the mood?”

Not even close. She would much rather stay here, strip down and make love with him in front of a roaring fire than eat with his family. Family dinners, in her opinion, were rarely comfortable affairs. But that wouldn’t help her get Affairs by Amanda on a firmer financial foundation.

“Ahem. What time are your parents expecting us?”

“Soon. I’ll save the tour of the third-floor gym, sauna and steam shower and the basement for later. As much as I’d prefer to keep you here—” he dipped his head to indicate the bed “—we need to go.”

She appreciated his restraint because apparently she’d lost hers—and her perspective right along with it. This weekend was all about business. And that meant meeting his well-connected parents was high on her to-do list.

Like it or not.

If Alex’s home had been impressive, Amanda found his parents’ French Chateau-styled waterfront mansion in Old Greenwich downright intimidating even in the dark. Well-placed landscape uplighting illuminated the sheer scale of the place.

Her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a witch’s bubbling cauldron of some hot brew. Why was she nervous about meeting his parents? They were merely prospective clients, not prospective in-laws, and she’d grown up in affluent circles.

It was because of the job, the connections and the possibility of tapping into Greenwich society’s deep pockets for future events. The results of this meeting could make Affairs by Amanda financially secure.

But she’d interviewed for jobs with society’s movers and shakers before, and those hadn’t made her this nervous. And thanks to her family and her Vassar education, she knew many über-wealthy people. But still, the unexplainable butterflies tormented her.

The front door of the house opened and a tall, lanky, dark-haired teen came out. Despite the frosty temperature he wasn’t wearing a coat over his short-sleeved Giants T-shirt. Unsmiling, he strolled toward the car as they climbed out.

“He looks just like you,” she told Alex, when he joined her at the end of the long walkway.

Alex’s eyes narrowed and his face seemed to tense. Why?

“I take it that’s your brother?”

“That’s Zack.”

She noted and disregarded the odd note in Alex’s voice. Bringing a woman home to meet the folks implied things they didn’t want implied. Was he as uncomfortable about this as she? “He’s cute. As I imagine you were at seventeen. I’m sure you were a lady-killer in training.”

He shot her an odd look but said nothing, since Zack had reached them. Alex held out his upraised hand, grasped palms with his brother in a boys-from-the-hood kind of handshake and then the males slapped each other’s back in an almost-hug. Zack, obviously playing it cool, didn’t crack a smile, but his excitement over seeing Alex sparkled in eyes the same brown shot with gold as Alex’s.

“Amanda, this is Zack. Zack, my friend Amanda Crawford.”

She shot Alex a quick questioning glance. What was that about? The emphasis he’d put on the word friend implied they were more than friendly, and she didn’t want to give his family the wrong impression. Sure, they were lovers at the moment, but that would soon change. This was merely business with benefits.

Amanda offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Zack.”

The teen surveyed her from head to toe. Did she detect a tinge of resentment in his eyes? He briefly shook hands. “You, too.”

Zack turned his attention back to Alex. “The ’rents are waiting inside.”

Alex placed a hand in the small of her back and guided her up the walk and into the house. The foyer was as opulent as the outside of the house had led her to expect. The decor emitted an old-money feel with an intricately patterned hardwood floor, classic antique furniture, luxurious Persian carpets and artwork by Albert Bierstadt and Frederic Church on the soaring wainscoted walls.

Her stomach twisted tighter with each echoing step as she and Alex followed Zack’s loping stride into a paneled den. A man and woman rose with welcoming smiles on their faces from the sofas that flanked the brick fireplace. It was easy to see that Alex and Zack had inherited their mother’s coloring and patrician bone structure. The blueeyed blond man was the exact opposite coloring-wise of the woman by his side.

“Mom, Dad, this is Amanda Crawford. Amanda, my parents, Ellen and Harry Harper.”

Alex’s mother immediately stepped forward and pulled Amanda into an exuberant hug. The warmth of her greeting took Amanda aback. And then Ellen put her at arm’s length, clasped both of Amanda’s hands and beamed as if she’d just been voted Time’s Woman of the Year. “We are so glad Alex has finally brought someone home.”

Apprehension tickled Amanda’s toes.

“Mother, I told you this wasn’t—”

“Oh, hush, Alex. Go pour us drinks, darling. I can’t wait to get to know your Amanda better.”

Amanda’s uneasiness multiplied. She gave Alex a fix-this glare. He shrugged and she wanted to smack him. Instead she forced a smile and turned back to her hostess when Alex surprisingly complied with his mother’s command.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Mrs. Harper.”

“Ellen. We don’t stand on formality here. And we’re happy to have you.”

As soon as Ellen released her, Alex’s father took her place and captured Amanda’s hand in both of his. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Amanda. Your father and I have known each other for years. He’s spoken of you often. When I talked with Theo this afternoon I told him you were coming home with Alex tonight. We couldn’t be more pleased.”

Amanda barely stifled a groan. The evening couldn’t get worse. Alex’s parents and hers thought there was more to this relationship than party planning and stellar, though temporary sex. When it was over, she’d have to listen to her parents’ lectures about yet another failed relationship.

Oh, joy. She couldn’t wait for that.

Five

Amanda Crawford was a professional charmer. The past two days had only reinforced Alex’s opinion that she was the woman for the job of increasing his visibility and connections. No other woman would do.

His family’s overexuberant welcome Friday night had thrown her, but after one panicked glance at him, she’d sailed in like a trouper and worked her magic for the remainder of the weekend, putting everyone at ease and keeping the conversation flowing. She’d even teased Zack out of his surly mood—a mood Zack seemed to exhibit more often than not these days.

Amanda was smoother than the Rémy Martin Louis XIII cognac he brought out to celebrate special occasions. It was only because Alex knew her agenda that he’d recognized the subtle, skillful questioning she’d employed to tease Zack’s hobbies and interests from him this weekend.

Pulling out his BlackBerry, Alex made a note to schedule some one-on-one time with Zack to get to the bottom of the bad attitude. It frustrated him that he could give only brotherly advice. Eighteen years ago he’d wanted nothing to do with fatherhood and would have readily paid for an abortion. And that would have been a mistake. Now he wanted to claim his son, to tell Zack how proud he was of him. But that could never happen.

Shoving away the nagging thoughts, he put his Black-Berry away and studied Amanda’s profile as the taxi neared her apartment building. She had her face turned toward the window, apparently enthralled by the gently falling snow or the bustle of pedestrians. More likely ignoring him.

Except for Amanda Crawford, women didn’t ignore him.

He could feel her putting distance between them. In fact, he had felt the chill since they’d boarded the train to Grand Central Terminal. She’d wanted him to stay in Greenwich, let her travel home alone. But he always saw his women to the door.

The only downside to the weekend was when they’d said good-bye three hours ago, after Sunday brunch. His mother had been wearing a smug smile that told him she was already planning a wedding. His and Amanda’s.

That wasn’t going to happen, but she refused to believe him no matter how many times he’d told her he spent too much time dealing with the financial fallout caused by nasty divorces to be interested in signing up for that headache. It concerned him that his mother had bonded so quickly with Amanda. But that was partially his fault. He’d never taken a woman home before.

The taxi pulled to a stop at 721 Park Avenue. Alex climbed from the car and turned to hand Amanda out of the vehicle. The sight of her long legs beneath a short cashmere dress hit him, along with memories of her kneeling above him in bed, wrapped around him in the shower and stretched out on the rug in front of his fireplace. His heart kicked into overdrive.

He stepped to the back of the car, paid the driver and took Amanda’s suitcase from the cabbie before she could reach it.

“Alex, there’s no need to walk me up. Take the taxi back to the station.”

“We need to discuss Zack’s party. I want to know what you and my mother cooked up when she banished the men of the house to play billiards.”

Amanda hugged her coat tighter around her middle. Snowflakes settled on her fuzzy pink knit hat. “Nothing earth-shattering, but she and Zack gave me some ideas to work with. We have plenty of time to plan his birthday. Your company party is a different story. You change the subject every time I bring that up.”

“Correction—I’ve put the event in your capable hands and I trust you with the details.”

“I know you said you wanted me to handle everything, but I’d really like your input on a few items. Carte blanche sounds like a good idea to an event planner, but I’ve learned the hard way those kinds of events rarely live up to the expectations of the one who’s footing the bill. You have expectations whether you realize it or not.”

Since he wasn’t ready to say good-night, he’d play along. “We’ll grab a couple of coffees and your favorite chocolate muffins, and you can tell me what else you’ve come up with.”

Talking wasn’t all he intended to do. The minute she finished her muffin he’d untie the knot at the waist of her plum colored dress and unwrap her, one pale, delicious inch at a time. If he could wait that long.

His hunger for her these past three months had bordered on an obsession. Why hadn’t having her—repeatedly—lessened his need? It was a weakness he wouldn’t tolerate, and that meant getting past it.

Amanda’s less-than-enthusiastic expression would give a less confident man performance anxiety. But he knew he pleased her in bed. She wasn’t shy about expressing her pleasure or asking for what she needed. And that turned him on like nothing else.

“It’s been a long weekend, Alex. I need to prepare for the upcoming week and—”

“Invite me up, Amanda.”

Her lips parted at his gruff tone. She held his gaze. He could tell she was considering refusing. He stepped closer, invading her space, and nudged his thigh against hers, earning a gratifying hitch of her breath.

“Fine. You can come up for a few minutes.”

They made a quick, silent detour to Park Café and then returned to her building. The doorman watched them from the moment they entered, his narrowed gaze falling on Amanda’s suitcase in Alex’s hand.