Pregnant By The Maverick Millionaire

He was famous and she’d matched enough semifamous guys to know how much time and effort it took to date a celebrity. She couldn’t think of anything worse than having your life dissected on social media platforms or in the society columns, but some women got off on it.

She hadn’t considered any of this that long-ago morning when she’d agreed to coffee. Everything had moved so quickly and she’d only been thinking in terms of a couple of hours spent with him. But she had noticed that over the last six months the spotlight on Kade had become even bigger and brighter. His life was routinely dissected; his dates scrutinized. The press was relentless and easily turned a movie into a marriage proposal, a dinner into destiny.

Brodie shuddered. Yuck.

That being said, she still wanted him.

If she could go through with it this time—and that was a big if—she couldn’t ignore the fact that a quick fling with Vancouver’s most eligible, slippery bachelor could have consequences. If they did do the deed and it became public knowledge, as these things tended to do with the Mavericks, it would affect her business. She had a database of clients who trusted her, who confided in her. Quite a few of them thought she was engaged, and a liaison with Kade would not inspire her clients to trust her judgment.

Men, she’d realized, were frequently a lot more romantic—or traditional—than most woman gave them credit for. They could have affairs, play the field and have one-night stands, but they wouldn’t appreciate their matchmaker doing the same.

No, it was smarter and so much more sensible to ignore Kade’s suggestion that they continue what they’d started. Sleeping with him probably wouldn’t be as good as she imagined; she’d probably romanticized exactly how good Webb’s kissing was to excuse her crazy, uninhibited behaviour when she was alone with him. No, best to keep her distance...

Good decision, Brodie thought, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. Sensible decision.

Adult decision.

Safe decision.

So why did it feel so damn wrong?

Three

The ladies’ room was on a short flight of stairs above the men’s restroom and when she stepped into the passage, she looked down and saw the blond head and muscular shoulders that could only belong to Kade.

She flicked off a piece of fluff from her shocking pink blouson dress, belted at the waist and ending midthigh. Nude heels, scalpel-thin, made her legs look like they went on for miles. Back in her apartment it had seemed very suitable for a business lunch, but when Kade looked up and his eyes darkened from a deep brown to a shade just off black, she knew he wanted to rip off her clothing with his teeth. Keeping her hand on the banister, biting the inside of her lip, her heart galloping, she walked down the three steps to the marble floor, a scant couple of inches from his broad chest.

He didn’t give her any warning or ask for her permission, his mouth simply slammed into hers. Brodie had to grab his biceps to keep from falling off her shoes. Those amazing hands covered a great deal of her back and she was sure her dress would sport scorch marks from the heat. She was intensely aware of him and could feel the ridges of his fingers, the strength in his wrists.

Brodie wound her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. He tasted like coffee and Kade and breath mints and his lips seemed to feel like old friends. Warm, firm, dry. Confident. That word again. His hands bumped up her spine, kneading as he worked his way to her shoulders, moving around to catch her face. His thumbs skated over her cheekbones as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth.

Loneliness—the slight dissatisfaction that hovered like a fine mist around her, the ever-present sorrow—dissipated as he took command of the kiss, pushing her back against the wall and pushing his knee between her thighs. This was kissing—raw, raunchy, flat-out sexy. Brodie felt heat and warmth and moisture gather and felt an unfamiliar pull of fulfillment, a desire to lose herself in the heat and strength and sexiness of this man.

Kade’s hand skimmed the side of her chest, down her waist and around to her butt, his fingers strong and sure, experienced. He cupped a cheek, pulled her up and into him, and she sighed as his erection pushed into her stomach. He yanked his mouth off hers and she tumbled into his sinfully dark eyes. “Same old, same old.”

Brodie placed her hands on his pecs and tried to regulate her breathing. Where was an oxygen tank when she needed one? She felt Kade’s fingers on her cheekbone, tracing her jaw. “Brodie? You okay?”

Fine. Just trying to get my brain to restart. Brodie placed her forehead on his sternum and pulled in some much needed air.

“Dammit, Kade,” she eventually muttered.

“Yep, we’re a fire hazard,” Kade agreed, resting his chin on the top of her head. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing?” Brodie suggested.

“Yeah...not an option.” She heard the determination in his voice. She knew he would do what it took to get what he wanted.

What she wanted. He wouldn’t need to do much persuading—she was halfway to following him to hell and back for an orgasm or two.

She was allowed to share some amazing sex with someone who knew what he was doing, her usually quiet wild child insisted. She was twenty-nine, mostly normal but terribly sexually frustrated.

You had this argument with yourself earlier. He’s single. You’re single. You don’t need anyone’s permission...

Kade didn’t need to use charm, or to say anything at all. She was doing a fine job of talking herself into his bed all on her own.

“Brodie?” Kade stepped back and bent his knees so he could look her in the eye. “What do you say? Do you want to take this to its very natural conclusion?”

Brodie gripped his big biceps, or as much of it as she could get into her hand. He felt harder, more muscular than she remembered. How was that possible? She wanted to undo the buttons on his shirt, push aside the fabric and see what other wonders lay under his expensive clothes. Was his chest bigger? His shoulders broader? His thighs stronger?

“Are you going to put me out of my misery sometime soon?” Kade asked. He sounded like sleeping with her was neither here nor there. Then she took another look at his expression, read the emotion in his eyes.

There was frustration, a whole lot of desire and a hint of panic. Because he thought she might say no? He looked a little off-kilter and not as suave and as confident as she’d first suspected. His hint of insecurity made her feel steadier. That their chemistry had rocked him allowed her to regain her mental and emotional balance.

“God, woman, you’re killing me.”

She knew if she said yes, there would be no going back. She couldn’t get cold feet, couldn’t retreat this time.

She was a little scared—and she should be. She’d laid out all the arguments in the ladies’ room. But she could no more stop a freight train than miss this second chance to find out if he was as good as her imagination insisted.

Time to put them both out of their misery. Brodie slowly nodded. “Yeah, let’s revisit the past. One night, not a big deal?”

“You sure?”

She knew he was asking for some reassurance she wouldn’t change her mind midway through, so she placed her hand on his cheek and nodded. “Very sure. On the understanding this is a one-time thing and it stays between us.”

Relief flashed across Kade’s face and she felt his fingers flexing on her back. “I never kiss and tell. But are you sure we’ll be able to stop after one night?”

Brodie shrugged. Probably not. “We can give it our best shot.”

Kade stepped back and ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Interesting,” he said.

Brodie frowned. “What is?”

“You have a very...businesslike approach to life. And sex.”

She supposed she did, but life had taught her to put emotion away from daily life. If she allowed emotion to rule, she would’ve crawled into a cave after the accident and never come out. She turned her back on her feelings because they were so big, so overwhelming. Before the tragedy, she’d loved hard...wildly, uninhibitedly. She’d engaged every one of her senses and she’d been the most emotional creature imaginable.

A car accident had taken her family, but emotion had hung around and nearly killed her, too. To survive she’d had to box it up and push it away...because she couldn’t feel happy without feeling sad. No joy without pain. No love without heartbreak.

It was easier just to skate.

Brodie lifted her chin and sent Kade a cool smile. Time to get the conversation back on track. “So, when and where?”

Kade lifted his eyebrows in surprise and Brodie sent him a look, daring him to make another comment about her frankness. He looked like he wanted to and Brodie prayed he wouldn’t. Kade seemed to have the ability to look beyond her shell to the mess inside...

She didn’t need anyone upsetting her mental apple cart.

Kade looked at his watch and thought for a minute. “I have meetings this afternoon or else I’d whisk you back to my place right now.”

That was something her old self would’ve done, Brodie mused. Breakfast at midnight, dancing in the rain, unplanned road trips and afternoon sex. The Brodie she was today didn’t do wild anymore.

“And tonight is the ball. Are you coming?” Kade placed his hand flat on the wall behind her head and she had to resist the urge to rest her temple on his forearm.

Brodie shook her head. “No. Besides the tickets are sold out.”

The corners of Kade’s mouth tipped up. “I’m sure I know someone who can slip you inside.”

It was tempting, Brodie thought, but no. Attending the ball with Kade would make it seem like a date and she didn’t date.

“Why don’t you give me a call in a day or two?” she suggested.

“I don’t know if I can last that long,” Kade said, his tone rueful. He jammed his hands into his suit pockets and Brodie couldn’t help her urge to straighten his tie. “But...okay.”

“Lipstick on my face?” he asked.

“No, you’re fine.”

Kade nodded. “Give me your cell number. And your address.”

Brodie put the info in his phone. Kade nodded his thanks.

Kade’s eyes warmed to the color of rough cocoa. “Do you work from home?”

“No, I share an office with my friend and associate downtown. He’s also a matchmaker.”

Kade scratched his chin. “I am still wrapping my head around the fact you set people up and they pay you for it. It’s...weird.”

She couldn’t take offense. Frequently she thought it was a very odd way to earn money—especially for someone who’d once specialized in international banking and who intended to remain single for the rest of her life. But she was curious as to why he thought her business was weird so she asked him.

Kade rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess it’s because I’ve never had a problem finding dates.’

It was such a common misconception. “Neither do most of my clients. They aren’t looking to date, they are looking to settle down.” She saw him wince and she had to smile. “So I guess you’re not going to be a client anytime soon?”

“Or ever.”

Kade pushed all thoughts of her career out of her head when he lifted his hands to cradle her face. She shivered with a mixture of lust and longing. Her hands drifted across his chest and skimmed his flat, ridged belly.

“I can’t wait to spend some time with you.” He bent to kiss the sensitive spot between her shoulder and neck. He lifted his head and gave her a hard stare. “Soon, I promise.”

Brodie swallowed in an attempt to put some saliva back into her mouth.

Keeping his hands on her face, Kade twisted his wrist to check the time and softly cursed. “I’ve got to get back to the office, I am so late.” The pad of his thumb brushed her bottom lip. “Please don’t talk yourself out of this, Brodie.”

She wanted to protest, wanted to reassure him, but she didn’t. “See you.”

Kade nodded abruptly, dropped a hard, openmouthed kiss on her lips, then whipped around and headed back to the restaurant.

“You’d better make it very soon, Kade Webb.”

* * *

She’d run ten kilometers and had a cold shower, and despite it being four hours later, she could still taste Kade on her lips. Her lady parts were buzzing; her heart was still thumping. Her heart rate had actually dropped when she’d all but sprinted around Stanley Park. How was she going to function for the next couple of days if this heightened state of awareness didn’t dissipate?

It had to dissipate—she couldn’t live like this.

God, this was why she ran from entanglements. It was so much easier to slide on the surface of life. She didn’t like feeling this way. It felt too much like she was...

Well, living. Living meant anticipation, excitement, lust, passion. She wasn’t good at any of it anymore and she didn’t deserve to feel all that, not when her entire family, practically everyone she had ever loved, was no longer around to do the same.

Why didn’t I get hurt?

Why did I live when other people died?

Survivor’s guilt. She was the poster child for the condition. Brodie walked across her living room, hands on her hips, her brow furrowed. She’d seen the psychologists, read the literature. She knew guilt was common and part of the healing process. Her healing process was taking a damn long time. She knew she isolated herself. Living a half life wasn’t healthy—it certainly couldn’t bring her loved ones back. But she couldn’t stop thinking she didn’t deserve to be happy.

Love was impossible.

The sound of her intercom buzzing broke into her thoughts. Brodie pushed back her hair, frowning. She wasn’t expecting anybody—her great-aunt Poppy, who lived on the floor below, was out of town—so she couldn’t imagine who could be leaning on her doorbell.

Brodie walked to her front door and pressed the switch. “Can I help you?”

“I have ninety minutes, can I come up?”

Kade. Holy freakin’... Because her mouth was instantly bone-dry, she found it difficult to form words.

“C’mon, babe, don’t make me beg,” Kade cajoled.

This was madness. This was crazy. She should tell him to leave, tell him that she didn’t want him to come up. But that would be a big, fat lie... She did want to see him, preferably naked.

So Brodie pressed the button to open the door downstairs and wrenched open her apartment door to watch him run up. He was still dressed in his suit from earlier. His tie was pulled down and he carried a small gym bag and a tuxedo covered in plastic over his shoulder.

Hunky, sexy, determined man, Brodie thought, leaning against the door frame. Kade reached her and flashed a quick smile but didn’t say a word. He just grabbed her hand, yanked her inside, kicked her door closed and threw his stuff on the nearest chair. Then two strong hands gripped her hips and swept her up and into him, her feet leaving the floor. Then his mouth was on hers, warm and demanding, and his tongue swept inside, allowing her to taste his frustration-coated passion.

Whoo-boy!

After a minute had passed—or a millennium, who could tell?—Kade gently lowered Brodie to her feet, but he kept his lips on hers, his tongue delving and dancing. She responded, awed by the pent-up longing she felt in the intensity of his kiss. Her response must have seemed just as demanding, as urgent. Brodie moved her hands to his shirt, tugging it out of his pants. Desperate to feel his skin on hers, she moaned her frustration and then resented the brief separation from Kade’s body as he stepped away to unbutton and remove his shirt.

Brodie moved forward and ran her lips across his bare chest, stopping to flicker her tongue over his nipple, to rub her cheek on his chest hair. He was such a man. From the hardness of his muscles to the slightly rough texture of his skin and the smell that called to her senses, he awakened every cell in her body. She could no more stop this than she could stop a freight train. Neither did she want to, she realized.

She needed him, right now. She had to have him—in her, around her, sharing this with her.

“Bed,” Kade muttered against her jawline.

“Too far.” Brodie managed to lift a hand and wave to the right. “Desk, over there.”

“That’ll work.”

Running his hands over her bottom, Kade lifted Brodie onto the edge of the desk and pushed the files and papers off the table. They slid and tumbled to the floor. She didn’t care. Part of her knew this was a mistake, but she didn’t care about that, either. Nothing mattered but having him in her arms, allowing him to make indescribably delicious love to her.

Kade quickly stripped her of her clothing, while Brodie watched him through heavy, half-closed eyes. Keeping one hand on her breast, he reached into his suit pants and yanked his wallet out of a pocket. Scattering cards and cash, he found a condom and ripped it open with his teeth. He shed the rest of his clothes, and slipped the condom on. Brodie was not shocked when Kade grabbed the flimsy material of her panties and ripped them off her. His erection was hard and proud as he rubbed himself against her most secret places, seeking her permission to enter.

His lips followed his erection, and Brodie thought she would turn to liquid. Just when she could tolerate no more, Kade lifted his head to worship her breasts with his mouth, tongue and lips. Brodie closed her fingers around him and relished the sound of his breathing, heavy in the quiet of the early evening. Brown eyes met green as she tugged him toward her. Kade’s one hand slid under her hip and the other cradled her head, both encouraging her to ride with him.

The desk felt like a soft bed. The cold coffee she’d left there earlier could have been the finest champagne, the mixed-up papers rose petals. They were locked together. Finally. Kade moved within her and Brodie followed. Kade demanded and she replied. Deeper, longer, higher, faster. She met him stroke for stroke, matching his passion, uninhibited, free.

On that thought Brodie fractured on a yell and a sob. Then Kade bucked and arched and collapsed against her, his body hot.

“Brodie?” he muttered against her shoulder. “You alive?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Desk survived?”

Brodie’s mouth curved into a smile. She patted the wood next to her hip. “Looks like it. You?”

Kade kissed her neck before reluctantly pulling out of her. He straightened and turned away. “Yeah, I’m fine—”

Brodie sat up and frowned at his stream of curses. “What on earth...?”

Kade grimaced at the condom in his hand and then back to her. “The condom split. Dammit, it was brand-new.”

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