Pregnant By The Ceo: Sensible Housekeeper, Scandalously Pregnant / She's Having the Boss's Baby / The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical

Louisa’s heart turned over in her chest at the pain in his handsome face. She knew what finding his real father had meant to Rafael.

“I barely made it to the funeral. There were only five mourners, and they seemed to have shown up with the thought of asking surviving family members for money. Debts are all my father left behind. No wife. No other children. No friends. Just debts.”

“I’m so sorry,” Louisa whispered, desperate to take the pain out of his eyes, feeling helpless. “I’ll contact your guests and tell them the birthday dinner is canceled.”

His gaze became hard. “Why?”

“Because, because,” she stammered, “you’re in mourning.”

He shook his head. “The dinner party will go on as planned.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

He didn’t answer. Instead he looked around the beautiful room. He gave a low laugh. “I bought this palace for my father, for when I found him. Now all I have left—” his hand tightened into a fist around the gold ring hanging on a chain “—is this.”

She pressed her hand against his rough cheek, looking up into his face. “If only there was something I could do, if only—”

“There is.”

And he kissed her.

His lips were fierce, demanding. She could not stop him or pull away; all she could do was surrender to his strength, and the force of her own desire.

His hands moved over her clothes in the soft circle of pale golden light amid the shadows. He stroked her arms, her belly. Pulling off her woolen blazer and dropping it gently to the floor, he cupped her breasts through her thin cotton shirt. She gasped. Then, with a soft moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

He pushed her back against the bed, still kissing her. He moved with increasing urgency, pulling up her blouse, reaching beneath her silk bra to caress her breasts. Her nipples hardened to small pebbles beneath his muscular fingers as she held him close, aching for his touch. But it wasn’t enough…wasn’t nearly enough!

With sudden impatience, he pulled open the blouse in a single swift movement, popping the buttons. He ripped her flimsy silk bra in half easily, pushing the cups apart and lowering his head to suckle her.

She gasped, arching beneath his mouth. As he licked and bit one nipple, his powerful hand squeezed the other breast, sending sparks of longing down her body, between her legs.

Lifting his head, cupping both her breasts in his large hands, he gave her a hard, possessive kiss that bruised her lips. But amid the pain was an intensity of pleasure, the need of her own longing that drove her almost insane.

She had to stop this.

She would die if she stopped this.

As he kissed her, she felt the weight of his body, fully clothed and so much larger than her own, pressing her heavily into the firm mattress. His mouth plundered hers, his tongue tantalizing and mastering her. She felt his powerful hands move down her body. Grabbing her skirt’s hemline at the knee, he pulled it up until her legs were bare all the way to her hips.

He continued to kiss her fiercely, holding her body to the bed with his weight. One hand moved between her legs, caressing between her naked thighs. She sucked in her breath. She tried to move, to push him away from her, but she could not. Her mind was no longer in control of her body. Her body wanted what it wanted—and it wanted him.

His hand cupped between her legs, and she gasped. He cut off her gasp with a hard kiss, stealing her protest away, leaving her beyond the ability to fight what they both wanted. He moved his hand beneath her white cotton panties, caressing her slick folds like molten heat with a thick finger, caressing her sensitive core with his thumb.

She gasped, arching off the bed.

He pulled away, looking down at her. His eyes were dark.

Then he yanked her panties off her body in a swift movement, tossing them to the floor. Before reason could start to return, before she could remember she should tell him No, please, we must stop, he knelt before her on the bed. Pushing her legs apart, he moved his head between her legs and took a long, languorous taste.

She gave a high-pitched cry, gripping the pillow beneath her head with both hands.

Holding her hips firmly, refusing to allow her to move away, he held her to him. He licked her, lapping her one moment and suckling her the next. His tongue flicked inside her. Then fingers followed, with rough sensuality she could not deny or escape.

With all his experience, he knew just what to do. He played her like an instrument. He knew how to make her sing. The pleasure was so intense she nearly wept.

She felt the first waves of aching fulfillment start to crest, building inside her. Just as her hips started to lift of their own volition against his mouth, just as her whole body started to tremble and shake, he released her. As she cried out in frustration, he rose to his feet. He pulled down his pants. He did not wait to remove the rest of his clothes before climbing on top of her and covering her body with his own. She felt his hardness seeking entry between her legs for one brief second and he brutally thrust himself inside her. A sharp explosion of agonizing pleasure ripped through her as she felt him impale her so deeply. Pinning her with his massive size and weight, he thrust again, more deeply still and her whole body hummed, tense as a bow. The sweet agony coiled inside her, climbing higher…then still higher…until she could not breathe, until she thought she could bear no more, until she thought she would break.

He pulled back and rode her, holding her hips with his big hands to penetrate her so deep and wide and hard she felt split in two. She moaned, holding her hands against the black headboard, writhing from side to side as he shoved inside her again and again. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning his name, from begging him to not stop, from begging him to love her and never leave…

With a growl, he pushed one last time inside her so deep it shattered her apart into a thousand glimmering pieces. He nearly pierced her heart, and as her world exploded, from a distance she heard herself scream his name.

The next morning, Rafael woke up to find his lead housekeeper, the most prized member of his staff, naked and sleeping beside him in bed.

He nearly groaned aloud. He’d done it. Again. After promising himself he’d never touch Louisa again!

Sunlight was shining bright through the tall windows of his bedroom. The dark wood and new furniture, with shining steel fixtures and stark glass lights, had an oddly warm appearance beneath the soft golden light pouring from the windows. Or maybe the golden glow came from the woman now sleeping beside him. She made everything beautiful.

He looked at her lovely face, surrounded by brown hair tumbling over the pillow in waves. A tender smile still curved her pink lips. Sleeping and naked, she looked so vulnerable. So young.

He cursed himself in low, guttural Spanish.

He’d thought he had some self-control. He’d done everything to try to forget his night with Louisa Grey, and the fact that it had been the single most amazing sexual experience of his life. Which with all his experience, was incredible.

Perhaps that was why he’d been unable to forget. Uninterested in other women. Unable to think of anything else.

He still didn’t know why she’d been crying that night in Paris. He’d been shocked when he’d returned from another dull date to find Louisa overcome with emotion. Louisa, who never showed her feelings. He hadn’t known how to deal with it, so he’d taken her in his arms. And then he’d done what he’d longed to do for months. He’d kissed her. He’d done more than kiss her. He’d made passionate, reckless love to her—and discovered to his shock that his beautiful, self-contained housekeeper was, at twenty-eight, still a virgin.

Even now, when by all rights he should have been well satisfied, his body tightened at the memory of making love to her in Paris. Of making love to her last night. He felt the heat off her skin as she lay sleeping beside him, naked in his bed, and he wanted her anew.

He looked at her in the morning light. She looked so beautiful. So impossibly young. So lush and desirable.

He’d tried to rid himself of his inconvenient desire for her. He’d allowed her to transfer to his Istanbul house, though he did not want her to leave. He’d busied himself with work in Paris. He’d tried to move on with another woman, specifically Dominique Lepetit, though the truth was that the amoral actress was no longer of any interest to him.

Louisa, however…

With a low groan, he rolled over in bed and sat up, holding his head in his hands. He could still not quite believe he’d slept with her without a condom again, something he’d never done with any other woman. Oh, other women had told him they were on the Pill, but he’d never trusted them completely. In the past, he’d either been well-prepared with condoms, or he’d walked away from the situation. Simple as that. He never wanted to have a wife or child or be pinned down in any way. He took freedom even more seriously than he took pleasure.

Rafael glanced back over his shoulder at Louisa, who was still sleeping peacefully, like a child. He immediately felt comforted. Louisa Grey would never lie. If she’d said she was on the Pill, then she was.

He trusted her. In fact, she was the only woman he trusted. She’d been a virgin the first time he’d taken her, for God’s sake. That had been an amazing discovery during an incredible night. And last night had been even better…

He had the sudden memory of her naked body beneath his, the way she’d felt when he’d pushed inside her. The image of her ecstatic face as he’d possessed her as their sweaty bodies pressed together urgently in the heat of the night.

He’d thought the first time he’d taken her, in Paris, had been the best night he’d ever had with any woman. But last night had been even better. Something about the feel of her skin—or the smell of her hair. Perhaps it was the way she moved, the combination of sensuality mixed with innocence. Or her elusiveness. She always held something of herself back. Always.

Except in his bed.

Whatever the cause, some chemical reaction took hold of his brain whenever he was near her. He, who’d slept with so many women, who had his choice of heiresses and princesses and models, could not stop wanting his housekeeper. Louisa was like a drug to him.

Because she was forbidden?

His smile fell. And he cursed himself anew.

Rising to his feet, he put on a robe and left the well-kept bedroom. He went out to the veranda. He looked down at the garden and the Bosphorus beyond. In a short time, she’d turned this neglected mansion into an exquisite home.

His hands gripped the wrought-iron balcony railing. And now, because of his lust, he would lose her—his most prized employee!

He glanced back at the beautiful woman sleeping in his bed. He had to find a way to return to a simple relationship of boss and employee. But he wasn’t sure he could.

From the moment he’d first interviewed her in Paris for the head housekeeper position, he’d been intrigued by her—this pretty young woman who went to some lengths to appear plain, wearing black cat’s-eye glasses and oversize, unflattering clothes, pulling her chestnut hair back into a tight bun from which no tendril could hope to escape. She’d left her first position in the household of a financier in Miami, at a very good rate of pay, because apparently she wished to see Europe.

“You will be allowed no vacations,” he’d told her at that first interview. “I need a house manager who will have no other desires other than to smoothly and perfectly run my home.”

He’d waited for Miss Louisa Grey, a modern young woman, to tell him he was out of his mind with such expectations and to leave his office; instead, she’d just looked up at him with her cool brown eyes.

“Of course.”

“I don’t think you understand,” he’d said evenly. “You won’t be able to leave. Not for vacations. Not for Christmas. And do not think I will eventually transfer you to New York. I like stability in my home life. If you start in Paris you will stay here.”

“Fine,” she’d repeated, frowning up at him with her brow furrowed.

“Fine?” he barked.

“I do not need to go back home.”

He’d lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “Never?”

“Correct. For…for reasons of my own which I do not care to explain.” She lifted her chin. “I will do excellent work for you, Mr. Cruz.”

And she had.

Efficient, dedicated Miss Grey had never taken a day off. Never asked for a vacation. Never complained. She’d never asked for a transfer.

Until he’d seduced her.

For the first few years she’d been his housekeeper, she’d acted as if she could barely distinguish Rafael from an intemperate child to be tolerated and tended. Gradually he’d taken it as a challenge. He’d coaxed her out of her shell in the evenings, as he’d eaten a late supper in the kitchen. He’d gradually lured Louisa’s warm heart out from beneath her dignified reserve. It had been an amusement. Even—a friendship.

Until he’d seduced her.

He cursed himself again under his breath.

She wasn’t just his valued housekeeper, she was the extremely competent manager who coordinated between all his homes in New York, St. Barts, Buenos Aires, Istanbul and Tokyo.

And this would be the end of it. Qué fastidio! Now that he’d slept with her twice, it would end badly—as it always did. She would cease to be sensible, useful Miss Grey and become a woman without a shred of reason in her head. She’d be clingy to her fingertips.

Or would she?

Louisa Grey, clingy? The thought was almost laughable. She was so different from all other women. Was it possible, then, that their affair could be different as well?

He still wanted her. Was it possible she could be that legendary creature—a reasonable woman—and they could continue their affair until he was satisfied? Could they enjoy the passion of a love affair—then simply return to their regular lives that were already so convenient and perfect, as employer and employee?

He ached for her as he did for no other woman. A few days and he’d certainly be done with her. That’s how all of his affairs ended. If he could just enjoy her in his bed for just a few more days…

“Good morning,” he heard her say behind him.

He turned to face her and sucked in his breath.

Louisa stood on the veranda wearing his white oversize robe. The pink sunrise dawning over the minarets of the east brought such beauty to her face. Her smile was quiet and resolute.

He’d never seen anyone more beautiful, with so much sweetness and dignity. She was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met. No woman came close, he realized. Even now, remembering how he’d taken her the night before, he was throbbing with need for her. He wanted to lift her up in his arms, drag her back into his bedroom and throw her on the bed. He wanted to take her again and again, fast and hard, until he’d had his fill.

“Come away with me,” he said abruptly.

She laughed playfully, looking around the Ottoman mansion and the incredible view of the Bosphorus. “To get away from all this?”

He frowned, trying to think. He had a hard time thinking straight when she was smiling like that. He remembered suddenly an offer made by an acquaintance selling him real estate in Paris. Xerxes Novros was a coldhearted bastard but the man had offered the use of his island. “Greece?” he suggested.

She saw he was serious and blinked. Then she shook her head. “Your dinner party is in two days.”

“Knowing you, the arrangements are already completed.”

She took a deep breath. “But still…”

“I am done with Istanbul,” he said harshly. “After the party, I intend to put this house up for sale. I am done here.” His dark eyes looked down into hers. “But not done with you.”

“I should go.” Her voice was small. Unhappy.

“Go?”

“Work for someone else.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. Then his eyebrows lowered. “You can’t,” he said in a low voice. “I need you.”

“What you mean to say is that you like having me work for you. That you find it convenient.”

“Yes,” he said gruffly. “I do. And it is. I see no reason why that should stop.”

She gave a low, bitter laugh. “No. Why would you?”

He placed his hands persuasively on her shoulders. “Mira! So we’ve fallen into bed. I’ve been through this many times. A few days together, and we’ll come back and no longer feel this way. Our lives can return to normal. I promise you.”

She looked at him, her brown eyes so deep and tender, and for a moment he thought he convinced her. Then she shook her head. “Sure, that is how it works. For you. Your mistresses have nervous breakdowns.”

“Not you. You would never be like that, Louisa,” he said. “You have far too much dignity. Too much sense. That’s what I love most about you.” He gave her a sudden wicked grin. “Along with your luscious body.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then she turned her head, staring off at the Bosphorus, flooded with the brilliant pink light of sunrise.

He took her hands in his own, looking down at her.

“Forget I’m your boss. Forget that you work for me. Take two days and go away with me. Let me pamper you in luxury where no one else knows you. Let someone else serve you for a change. Let me give you pleasure,” he whispered, stroking the bare skin of her inner wrist, “such as you’ve never known.”

He kissed her lips before she could answer. When he finally pulled away, he whispered into her ear, “Give in. You know I’m going to take you, Louisa. You know you won’t be able to resist me. You will be mine.”

You will be mine.

Louisa couldn’t breathe, she wanted him so much.

She looked into his handsome, ruthless dark gaze and knew she should tell him off—tell him in her devastatingly formal way that she was his housekeeper, nothing more, and she existed to keep his homes organized and well-staffed. To tell him that she had no feelings for him whatsoever as anything more than her boss. But when she looked into the darkness of his eyes, she could not lie.

His touch felt like fire to her.

“All right,” she said in a soft voice she almost couldn’t recognize as her own.

He pulled back, his fierce eyes searching hers. “Yes?”

“I’ll come away with you,” she whispered.

He kissed her fervently on the palm, then the back of her hand. A shiver of longing went through her, a shiver that shook her to the core.

She couldn’t deny them what they both wanted.

No matter what it cost. She would have two days—two days to be his mistress and know how it felt to be his adored lover. Two days to live on for the rest of her life, when she would love him from a distance, with a broken heart, knowing he would never love her in return.

She only prayed he was right, and that two days of pleasure would cure her of this desperate, hopeless love. She prayed it would satiate her, ending all her longing for Rafael, so she could once again enjoy the job she loved, supervising the housecleaning, managing the staff and arranging his life.

Would she really be able to watch him move on to the next woman and feel nothing? Apparently Rafael thought so. And he knew so much more about love affairs than she. She prayed he was right, and when she returned to Istanbul, she would no longer want him, that she’d no longer love him.

She would be able to take back her heart. She would no longer cry out for him in the cold loneliness of night. This two-day affair could save her.

Unless she was pregnant. Then…it was already too late.

Chapter Three

“ANOTHER iced tea, Miss Grey?”

Shading her eyes from the hot Greek sun, Louisa looked up from where she was stretched out on the poolside lounge chair. “Yes,” she said, blushing. Being served, rather than the server, still shocked her. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

The Greek servant, who was young and very handsome, handed her the cool drink in a tall glass with a flourish and a respectful, admiring bow before he departed back inside the white walls of the sprawling hillside mansion.

Sipping her drink—which was, incidentally, her third one that afternoon—Louisa stared around her for a moment with shock. She’d been on this private Greek island since yesterday morning, but she still couldn’t quite believe that she was the one relaxing, instead of the one rushing around like a madwoman trying to satisfy her employer’s wishes. Instead of cleaning and organizing, she was lazily sunning herself in a bikini as her handsome lover did laps in the infinity pool overlooking the blue Aegean Sea.

Taking another sip of her tea, Louisa set it down on the table with a happy sigh. Lifting her arms over her head in a yawn, she glanced at the white mansion behind her. It was huge and luxurious, clinging to the rocky hillside above the sea. She leaned her head back against the lounge chair cushion. The sky was a cloudless, limpid blue. Reaching for her sunglasses, she put them on and picked up her paperback novel. Holding the book over her head to block out the sun, she tried to focus on the page.

She was distracted when she saw Rafael rise from the water. As he climbed out of the pool, she couldn’t look away. His tanned skin glistened in the sun as rivulets of water poured down the hard muscles of his body, down the dark hair of his chest, disappearing beneath the small swim trunks slung low across his slim hips.

Her lips suddenly went dry.

“Are you bored, querida?” Rafael said huskily, looking at her across the pool deck.

“Yes, very,” she managed to tease him.

“Put down that book.” He walked slowly across the white stamped concrete floor. Like a lion stalking a gazelle, he never looked away from her. “If you need distraction, I will entertain you.”

“I like to read—” she protested weakly, but she could not resist as, for the third time since they’d arrived on this island, he took the book away from her. She had bought the book, a deliciously trashy novel, with high anticipation. But she had yet to finish the first paragraph. Perhaps because her life had taken a sudden turn and was full of more luxury and passion than she could have ever imagined in any fantasy.

Rafael pulled the sunglasses off her face and set them down on the table. He placed both hands on the soft white cushion around her. For a moment, he looked down at her and she was overwhelmed by anticipation, by the scent of him, by the cool feel of his wet skin against her warm body.

Then he lowered his mouth to hers.

She closed her eyes with a sigh of pleasure as he kissed her, searing her bruised lips with the magnetic force of his own. She felt his bare skin against her body, the rough dark hair of his chest pressing against her warm, naked belly. They’d already made love at least a dozen times since they’d arrived here yesterday morning, at this beautiful private island compound borrowed from one of Rafael’s wealthy tycoon friends whom she’d never met. Two days of pleasure, of being served cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, of being waited on hand and foot. Two days of nothing but admiration and adoration.

Was this what it felt like to every woman, to be a rich man’s mistress?

Or was it just because the man was Rafael, and she blossomed beneath the miracle of his full, devoted attention?

Whatever the reason, Louisa had never felt so beautiful or so desired. She’d never felt so happy. She felt like a different woman. Everyone here treated her as if she were some gorgeous young creature who deserved to be spoiled, her every whim catered to. They treated her as if luxury and admiration were her birthright, and they did it in such a convincing way that she almost was starting to believe it herself. Especially when Rafael kissed her like this…