Little Secrets: The Baby Merger

One white lie leads to one little secret...

The truth is, Sally Harrison’s one-night stand with the breathtaking business tycoon Kirk Tanner was the most mind-blowing sex of her life. But after discovering that Kirk’s her new boss, she feels used. And finding out she’s pregnant has upended her life.

The intensity of Kirk’s attraction to Sally is off the charts. But after concealing his identity that night, Sally’s unwilling to ever believe him again. Besides, she resents that he’s been put in charge of her father’s company instead of her. But when Sally’s suspended for corporate espionage, can Kirk prove her innocence...and his love?

“What? Did you forget to frisk me before I leave the building?”

“Don’t tempt me, Sally,” Kirk said.

“Don’t be so pompous. You’ve lied to me from the moment you met me. Why not try being honest for a change?”

“You want honest? I’ll give you honest. You caught my eye the second you arrived in the bar that night. I didn’t recognize you immediately but I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

She snorted. “I may be naive, but don’t expect me to believe that. There were any number of women far more beautiful than me in the bar that night.”

“And yet I only had eyes for you.”

The look she gave him was skeptical. “A little clichéd, wouldn’t you say?”

“Stop trying to put up walls between us.” Kirk stepped forward and took her by the arm. “You’re still carrying my baby,” he said. “I have a duty to care for...my child.”

He wasn’t holding her firmly, but he wasn’t letting go, either. It drove home the fact that the life she thought she’d had was not her own.

* * *

Little Secrets: The Baby Merger is part of the Little Secrets series: Untamed passion, unexpected pregnancy...

Little Secrets: The Baby Merger

Yvonne Lindsay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A typical Piscean, USA TODAY bestselling author YVONNE LINDSAY has always preferred her imagination to the real world. Married to her blind-date hero and with two adult children, she spends her days crafting the stories of her heart, and in her spare time she can be found with her nose in a book reliving the power of love, or knitting socks and daydreaming. Contact her via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.

This one is dedicated to my family, each of whom hold a piece of my heart in their hands and whose love and support keep me going every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Extract

Copyright

One

A flash of pale gold hair near the entrance caught Kirk’s attention in the dimness of the bar. A woman came through the door, a tall, well-built man close behind her. She turned and said something, and the muscle looked like he was going to object, but then she spoke again—gesturing vaguely across the room—and he nodded and disappeared outside. Interesting, Kirk thought. Clearly the guy was an employee of some kind, perhaps a bodyguard, and he’d obviously been dismissed.

Kirk took a sip of his beer and watched the woman move through the area, searching for someone. There was an unconscious sensuality to the way she moved. Dressed down in a pair of slim-fitting trousers topped by a long-sleeved, loose tunic, she seemed to be trying to hide her tempting mix of curves and slenderness, but he saw enough to pique his interest. Most women hated it when they had well-rounded hips and a decent butt, and judging by the way she’d dressed to conceal, she was one of those women who wasn’t a fan of her shape and form. But he was. In fact, he really liked her shape and form.

Who was she meeting here? A partner, he wondered, feeling a small prick of envy as his eyes skimmed her from head to foot. The weariness that had driven him here tonight in search of better company than employee files and financial forecasts slid away in increments as his eyes appreciatively roamed her body.

He knew the instant she saw the person she was looking for. Her features lit up, and she raised a hand in greeting, moving more quickly now toward her target. Kirk scanned ahead of her, feeling himself relax when he saw the couple who reached out to greet her affectionately. Not a partner, then, he thought with a smile and took a sip of the malty craft beer he’d ordered earlier.

He noticed one of her friends pass her a martini and pondered on the fact that they’d already ordered her drink for her. Obviously she was a reliable type, both punctual and predictable. Too bad those were not the traits of someone who might be interested in a short, intense fling, which was all he was in the market for. He had his life plan very firmly set out in front of him, and while his company’s merger with Harrison Information Technology here in Bellevue, Washington, would definitely fast-track things, a committed relationship was still not in the cards for a long time. When he was ready, he’d tackle that step the way he did everything else, with a lot of research and dedication to getting it right the first time. Kirk Tanner did not make mistakes—and he definitely wasn’t looking for love.

Kirk turned his attention away from the woman, but something about her kept tickling at the back of his mind. Something familiar that he couldn’t quite place. He looked across the room and studied her more closely, noting again the swath of pale gold hair that fell over her shoulders and just past her shoulder blades. Even from here he could see the kinks in her hair that told him she’d recently had it tied up in a tight ponytail. His fingers clenched around his glass, suddenly itching to push through the length of it, to see if it felt as silky soft as it looked.

As if she sensed his regard, the woman turned and glanced past him before returning her attention to her friends. This gave him the most direct view so far of her face—and yes, there was definitely something familiar about her. He’d certainly have remembered if he’d met her before but perhaps he’d seen her photograph somewhere.

Kirk searched his eidetic memory. Ah, yes, now he had it—Sally Harrison, the only child of Orson Harrison, the chairman of Harrison Information Technology. The very firm his own company was officially merging with at 3:00 p.m. tomorrow. The idea of a merger with Sally Harrison held distinct appeal, even though he knew she should be strictly off-limits.

Her personnel file had intrigued him, although the head shot attached to it had hardly done her justice. He scoured his memory for more details. Since high school she’d interned in every department of the head office of HIT. In fact, she probably knew more about how each sector of the company ran than her father did, and that was saying something. She’d graduated from MIT with a PhD in social and engineering systems. And yet, despite her experience and education and the fact she was the chairman’s daughter, she’d apparently never aspired to anything higher than a mediocre middle-management position.

Granted, her department was a high performer and several of her staff had been promoted, but why hadn’t she moved ahead, too? Was she being very deliberately kept in place by her father or other senior staff? Was there something not noted in her file that made her unqualified or ill-suited for a more prominent position in the company?

And—the more compelling question—did she perhaps have sour grapes about her lack of advancement?

Her knowledge about the firm made her a prime candidate for the investigation her father had asked him to undertake as part of his staff evaluation during the merger.

Under the guise of seeing where staff cutbacks needed to be made, he was also tasked with investigating who could most likely be responsible for what could be unwitting or deliberate leaks to HIT’s largest business rival. Orson suspected that the rival company, DuBecTec, was accumulating data to undermine his company with a view toward making a hostile takeover bid in the next few months. He had instructed Kirk to look at everyone on the payroll very thoroughly. Everyone including the very appealing Ms. Sally Harrison.

Kirk took another sip of his beer and watched her across the room. She’d barely sipped her drink yet but swirled the toothpick in her martini around and around. Just then, as he was watching, she removed the toothpick from her drink and, using her teeth and her tongue, drew the cocktail onion off the tip and crunched down. His entire body clenched on a surge of desire so intense he almost groaned out loud.

Sally Harrison was a very interesting subject indeed, he decided as he willed his body back under control. And before he left the bar tonight, he would definitely find a way to get to know her better.

* * *

Company merger. For the best.

Even though she was going through the motions, saying all the right things as her friends excitedly told her about their recent honeymoon, Sally couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s shocking announcement over dinner tonight. If she hadn’t heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, she would have struggled to believe it. She still struggled to believe it. And the fact that her father hadn’t shared a moment of what had to have been an extensive forerunner to the merger with her raked across her emotions.

It was a harsh reminder that if she was the kind of person who actually stood with her father, versus sheltering behind him, she’d have been a part of the discussions. Not only that, if she’d been the kind of person she ought to be, confident and charismatic instead of shy and intense, this entire merger might not even have been necessary.

Her whole body trembled with a sense of failure. Oh, sure, logically she knew that her dad wouldn’t have entered into this planned merger if it wasn’t the best thing for Harrison IT and its thousand or so staff worldwide. And it wasn’t as though he needed her input. As chairman of HIT, he held the reins very firmly in both hands, as he always had. But, until now, HIT had been the family firm, and darn it, she was his family. Or at least she was the last time she’d looked.

Of course, now the company would be rebranded—Harrison Tanner Tech. Clearly things were about to change on more than one level.

She could have predicted her father’s response when she’d questioned the secrecy surrounding the merger.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he’d said, brushing her off in his usual brusque but loving way.

And she wasn’t worried—not about the company, anyway. But she did have questions that he’d been very evasive about answering. Like, why this particular other company? What did it bring to HIT that the firm didn’t have already? Why this man, whoever he was, who was being appointed vice president effective tomorrow? And why did her dad want her to be there during the video link when he and the new vice president of the newly branded Harrison Tanner Tech would make the merger announcement simultaneously to the whole staff? She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less. Aside from the fact that she hated being in the public arena, how on earth would she look her colleagues in the eye afterward and possibly have to face their accusations that she’d known about this merger all along? Or worse, have to admit that she hadn’t. Just the thought of it made her stomach flip uneasily.

Her father had always told her he worked hard so she didn’t have to. She knew he worked hard. Too hard, if the recent tired and gray cast to his craggy features was anything to go by. It was another prod that she hadn’t pulled her weight. Hadn’t been the support he deserved and maybe even needed. Not that he’d ever say as much. He’d protected her all her life, which hadn’t abated as she’d reached adulthood. To her shame, she’d let him.

Thing was, she wanted to work hard. She wanted to be a valued member of HIT and to be involved in the decision making. She wished she could shed the anxiety that led to her always hovering in the shadows and allowing others to run with her ideas and get the glory that came with those successes. Okay, so not every idea was wildly successful, but her phobia of speaking in groups had held her back, and she knew others had been promoted over her because of it. Her personality flaws meant she wasn’t perceived to be as dynamic and forward thinking as people in upper management were expected to be.

When her crippling fear had surfaced after the death of her mom, and when years of therapy appeared to make no headway, her father had always reassured her that she was simply a late bloomer and she only needed time to come into her own. But she was twenty-eight now, and she still hadn’t overcome her insecurities. She knew that was a continual, if quiet, disappointment to her father. While he’d never said as much, she knew he’d always hoped that she could overcome her phobia and stand at his side at HIT, and she’d wanted that, too. She’d thought he was still giving her time. She hadn’t realized he’d given up on her. Not until today.

This latest development was the last straw. Her father had always included her in his planning for the firm, even implemented an idea or two of hers from time to time, but this he’d done completely without her.

The shock continued to reverberate through her. The writing was on the wall. She’d been left in the dark on this major decision—and in the dark was where she’d stay going forward unless she did something about it. She couldn’t make excuses for herself anymore. She was a big girl now. It was past time that she stretched to her full potential. If she didn’t, she’d be overlooked for the rest of her life, and she knew for sure that she didn’t want that. Things had to change. She had to change. Now.

Gilda and Ron were still laughing and talking, sharing reminiscences as well as exchanging those little touches and private looks that close couples did all the time. It was sweet, but it compounded the sense of exclusion she felt at the same time. In her personal life as well as in the workplace, the people around her seemed to move forward easily, effortlessly, while she struggled with every step. She was happy for the others, truly—she was just sad for herself.

When they both looked at their watches and said they needed to be on their way, she didn’t object. Instead she waved them off with a smile and stayed to finish her barely touched drink.

She should go home to her apartment, get an early night—prepare for the big announcement tomorrow. Should? It felt like all her life Sally had done what should be done. Like she’d spent her life striving to please others. But what about her? Change had to start from a point in time—why couldn’t that change start now? Why couldn’t she be bold? Accept new challenges?

“Ma’am? The gentleman over there asked me to bring you this.”

A waitress put another Gibson on the table in front of her. Sally blinked in surprise before looking up at the girl.

“Gentleman?”

“Over there.” The waitress gestured. “He’s really hot.”

“Are you sure it was for me?” she asked.

“He was quite specific. Did you want me to take it back?”

Did she? The frightened mouse inside her quivered and said, oh, yes. But wasn’t that what she would have done normally? In fact, since she’d dismissed her personal security, wouldn’t she normally have left with Gilda and Ron and shared a cab so she wouldn’t be left on her own like this? Open to new experiences? Meeting new people? Flirting with a man?

Sally turned her head and met the gaze of the man in question. She’d noticed him before and rejected him as being way out of her league. Hot didn’t even begin to describe him. He wore confidence as easily as he wore his dark suit and crisp, pale business shirt, top button undone. Sally felt every cell in her body jump to visceral attention as his eyes met hers. He nodded toward her, raised his glass in a silent toast, then smiled. The kind of smile that sizzled to the ends of her toes.

Be bold, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. She turned her attention to the waitress and gave the girl a smile.

“Ma’am?”

“Leave it. Thank you. And please pass on my thanks.”

“Oh, you can do that yourself. He’s coming over.”

Coming over? Sally’s fight-or-flight reflexes asserted themselves in full screaming glory, shrieking, take flight! like a Klaxon blaring in the background.

“May I join you?” the man said smoothly, his hand hovering over the back of the chair Gilda had recently vacated.

“Certainly.” Her pulse fluttered at her throat, but she managed to sound reasonably calm. She lifted her glass and tipped it toward him in a brief toast. “Thank you for the drink.”

“You’re welcome. You don’t see many people drinking a Gibson these days. An old-fashioned drink for an old-fashioned girl?”

His voice was rich and deep and stroked her nerves like plush velvet on bare skin. And he certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. He filled his suit with broad shoulders, and the fine cotton of his shirt stretched across a chest that looked as though it had the kinds of peaks and valleys of toned muscle that a woman like her appreciated but oh so rarely got to indulge in. His face was slightly angular, his nose a straight blade, and his eyes—whatever color they were, something light, but it was hard to tell in here—looked directly at her. No shrinking violet, then. Not like her. His lips were gently curved. He didn’t have the look of a man who smiled easily, and yet his smile didn’t look fake. In fact, he actually looked genuinely amused but not in a superior way.

Not quite sure how to react, she looked down at her drink and forced a smile. “Something like that.”

Sally looked up again in time to see him grin outright in response. Seeing his smile was like receiving an electric shock straight to her girlie parts. Wow. Shouldn’t a man need a license to wield that much sex appeal?

“I’m Kirk, and you are?” He offered her his hand and quirked an eyebrow at her.

Sally’s insides turned to molten liquid. Normally, she wouldn’t give in to a drink and a slick delivery like the one he’d just pitched, but what the hell. She was fed up with being the good girl. The one who always did what was expected. The one who always deferred to others and never put herself forward or chased after what she wanted. If she wanted to make a stand in anything in her life, she was going to have to do things head-on rather than work quietly and happily in the background. Hadn’t she just decided tonight to take charge of her life and her decisions? For once, she was going to do exactly what she wanted and damn the consequences.

She put out her hand to accept his. “I’m Sally. Next round is on me.”

“Good to meet you, although I have to warn you, I don’t usually let women buy me drinks.”

Sally felt that old familiar clench in her gut when faced with conflict. The kind of thing that made her clam up, afraid to speak up for herself. It was one of her major failings—another thing she hid behind. But she’d told herself she wouldn’t hide tonight. She pasted a stiff smile on her lips. Pushed herself to respond.

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“I’m kind of old-fashioned, too.”

She couldn’t stifle the groan that escaped her. Despite being head of a leading IT corporation, her dad was also the epitome of old-fashioned. The very last thing Sally needed in her life was another man like that.

“But,” he continued, still smiling, “in your case I might be prepared to make an exception.”

Taken aback, she blurted, “In my case? Why?”

“Because I don’t think you’re just buying me a drink just so you can take advantage of my body.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud. Not a pretty, dainty little titter—a full-blown belly laugh.

“Does that happen often?” she asked.

“Now and again,” he admitted.

“Trust me, you’re quite safe with me,” she reassured him.

“Really?”

Was it her imagination, or did he sound a little disappointed?

“Well, perhaps we should wait and see,” she answered with a smile of her own and reached for her martini.

Two

How had it gone from a few drinks and dancing to this? Sally asked herself as they entered his apartment. Kirk threw his jacket over the back of a bland beige sofa. She got only the vaguest impression of his place—a generic replica of so many serviced apartments used by traveling business people with stock-standard wall decorations and furnishings. The only visible sign of human occupation was the dining table piled high with archive boxes and files.

That was all she noticed before his hands were lifting her hair from her nape and his lips pressed just there. She shivered at the contact. Kirk let her hair drop again and took her hand to lead her through to his bedroom. He turned to face her, and she trembled at the naked hunger reflected in his eyes.

Be bold, Sally reminded herself. You wanted this. Take charge. Take what you want.

She reached for his tie, pulling it loose, sliding it out from under his collar and letting it drop to the floor. Then she attacked his buttons, amazed that her fingers still had any dexterity at all given how her body all but vibrated with the fierceness of her longing for this man. A piece of her urged her to slow down, to take care, to reconsider, but she relegated that unwelcome advice to the very back of her mind. This was what she wanted, and she would darn well take it, and him, and revel in the process.

Kirk didn’t remain passive. His large, warm hands stroked her through the fabric of her tunic, which, beneath his touch, felt like the sexiest thing she’d ever worn. She sighed out loud when she pushed his shirt free of his body and skimmed her hands over the breadth of his muscled shoulders, following the contours of his chest. While they’d danced, she’d been able to tell he was in shape, but, wow, this guy was really in shape. For a second she felt uncomfortable, ashamed of her own inadequacies—her small breasts, her wide hips, her heavy bottom. But then Kirk bent his head and nuzzled at the curve of her neck, and the sensation of his hot breath and his lips against her skin consigned all rational thought to obscurity.

For now everything was about his touch. She was vaguely aware of Kirk reaching for the zipper at the back of her tunic and sliding it down, then deftly removing her trousers, and felt again that prickle of insecurity as he eased the garment off her body, exposing her pretty lace bra and her all too practical full briefs.

She stifled a giggle. “Sorry, I wasn’t quite expecting this outcome when I dressed for today.”

“Never apologize,” he ordered. His voice was deep and held a tiny tremor, which gave her an immense boost of confidence. “You’re beautiful. Perfect, in fact. And, for the record, I happen to find white cotton incredibly sexy.”

She looked at his face—studying it to see if he was serious or if he was simply saying what he thought she needed to hear—but there was an honesty there in his features that sent a new thrill through her. She bracketed his cheeks with her hands and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him with all that she had in her. With just a few well-chosen words, he’d made her feel valued, whether he knew it or not.