Little Secrets--His Pregnant Secretary

by Joanne Rock

  “Delia.” He took both of her hands in both of his. “You’ve known me for two years. I gave you a job because I admired the way you didn’t let the pressure of society sway you into marrying Brandon. I thought escaping your wedding on a Jet Ski was kick-ass.”

  She shook her head. “I was scared.”

  “But you didn’t let fear stop you. You set a course and got the hell out of Dodge.”

  A tiny ghost of a smile appeared on her face. “You’re being generous.”

  “I’m being honest. I liked you right away, and I believe that feeling was mutual from the very first day.” He tipped her chin up when she looked away, needing to see her eyes to track her reaction to his words. “You know my brothers. You know my business dealings. Have I ever given you reason to think I’ve tried to hide something from you the way Brandon did?”

  “Never.” She said the word softly but with a fierceness that made his heart turn over.

  “Then trust me when I say that you are the most important part of my life right now.” He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it, then the other. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, and I can promise if anything makes you unhappy, I’m going to do everything in my power to fix it.”

  His heart beat harder, as if he could somehow hammer home the words with the force of his will. He could see the struggle in her eyes. The worry that another man had put there. Hell, even her father had made her doubt herself, so he couldn’t blame Brandon for that.

  Slowly, however, her smile reappeared as the limo hit Midtown. A sexy glimmer lit her hazel eyes as if she’d just started thinking something...naughty.

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise, Jager McNeill.”

  “I hope you do.” Desire for her thrummed in his veins, a slow, simmering heat that had him hauling open the door of the vehicle as soon as it pulled up to the curb in front of The Plaza Hotel.

  Helping her from the car onto the red carpet underneath the flags that waved over the iconic entrance to the hotel across from Central Park, he was more than ready to bring her to their room. To kiss every inch of her.

  And remind her how good they could be together.

  But he’d forgotten she’d never been to New York. Let alone Central Park. Or The Plaza Hotel.

  At Christmastime.

  Her eyes glowed as she stepped out of the limo, and the pleasure he saw there didn’t have anything to do with him.

  “It’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed, doing a slow twirl to take it all in, just like every starry-eyed tourist to ever clog up a city street at rush hour.

  Despite his thwarted libido, he couldn’t resist the chance to make Delia Rickard happy.

  “Would you like a tour?” he asked her, waving off Paolo and the hotel doormen, who were ready to assist with their every need.

  “Yes!” She was already gazing at a horse-drawn carriage across the street, her body swaying slightly to the strains of a Christmas tune emanating from a trio of musicians near the park entrance.

  Jager forced his gaze away from her and told himself to get a grip. This was the chance he’d been waiting for, and he wasn’t about to waste it.

  * * *

  “Don’t let go.” Delia wrapped a hand around Jager’s waist and her other around his neck. “Please. Whatever you do? Don’t let go.”

  Teetering on thin blades, she let Jager tug her around the slippery ice skating rink while other holiday revelers whizzed past them. Even knee-high children skated quickly past, their blades making a skritch, skritch sound in the cold ice, cutting tiny swaths and sometimes lifting a fine, snow-like spray in their wake.

  Her first time on ice skates was a little scarier than she’d anticipated. After a tour of the Christmas lights around Central Park and down Fifth Avenue, she and Jager had stopped at a food cart for gyros. She’d been entranced by the sight of the huge Christmas tree in Rockefeller Plaza. Even better? The ice-skaters skimming the expanse of bright white below the noble fir. She hadn’t hesitated when Jager asked if she wanted to test her skills on skates.

  Clearly, she’d been too caught up in the holiday spirit to think about what she was getting into. Now Dean Martin crooned about letting it snow on the speaker system, but even with all the laughter, happy shouts and twinkling lights around her, Delia couldn’t recapture that lighthearted joy. She was too terrified she’d fall.

  “I’m not letting go.” Jager whispered the soft assurance in her ear, nuzzling the black cashmere stocking cap he’d bought her in one of the glittering department stores lining Fifth Avenue. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to touch you for weeks.”

  Her attention darted from her wobbling skates to his handsome face. He’d been so good to her, helping her to tie up her work responsibilities at the McNeill estate in Martinique by hiring a temporary replacement. His younger brother Gabe—now technically her boss—had given her a surprise holiday bonus that was based on revenue growth for the property. It had given her enough of a financial cushion that she could send the money home to her father to pay the taxes on their small piece of land and keep it safe for another year.

  Which was a huge worry off her mind.

  Each day for almost two weeks, Jager had asked how she felt, asked what he could do to help make her life easier so she could focus on her health. She’d been touched, especially in light of the pregnancy worries she’d had—at least up until today’s call from Dr. Ruiz. And more than anything, she appreciated that he’d given her time to come to terms with being pregnant, without pressuring her about marriage.

  That window of time had ended, however. He’d made that clear in the car ride from the airport when he said he wanted to be with her again. That exchange was never far from her mind even as they were sightseeing and enjoying all the Christmas hubbub of New York City just days before the big holiday.

  “Are you trying to distract me so I don’t fall?” she asked, her heartbeat skipping to its own crazy rhythm.

  The scent of roasted chestnuts spiced the air. As the music shifted to an orchestra arrangement of Handel’s Messiah, Jager swayed on his skates, effortlessly gliding backward so she could remain facing forward.

  “I’m one-hundred-percent sincere about wanting to touch you.” The look in his blue eyes sent a wave of heat through her, warming her from the inside out. “But if it helps to keep you distracted, I can share some more explicit thoughts I’ve been having about you.”

  She swallowed around a suddenly-dry throat. The sounds, the scents, the night fell away until her world narrowed to only him. Her heart thumped harder.

  “I don’t want to get so distracted I fall on my face.” She was only half kidding. Too much flirting with Jager could be dangerous. “But maybe if you told me just one thing.”

  Because she had a major weakness where he was concerned.

  “Wait until we turn this corner,” he cautioned, slowly drawing her body against his while he guided them around the end of the rink in a wide curve.

  Pressed against Jager’s formidable body, Delia didn’t move. She didn’t even dare to breathe since breathing would mold her breasts even tighter to his chest. Their wool coats and winter clothes didn’t come close to hiding the feel of the bodies beneath. His thigh grazed hers as he skated backward, hard muscle flexing.

  She felt a little swoony and knew it wasn’t just the skates keeping her off balance.

  “There.” He checked the skating lane as he moved onto the straightaway for another slow circle around the rink. “You’re doing well.”

  He loosened his hold without letting go and her skates seemed to follow him without any help from her.

  “I’m not sure that not falling is synonymous with doing well.” Her voice was breathless, a barely there scrape of sound after the close encounter with the sexy father of her future child.

 
“So we’ll get right back to distraction tactics.” He slowed his pace again, letting her close the small gap between them before he lowered his voice. “Do you want me to tell you how sexy you are in the dreams where you pull a pin out of your hair and it all comes spilling down while you straddle me—”

  “No.” She shook her head, unprepared for the details he seemed only too happy to share. “That is, not here.”

  He lifted a hand to her cheek and rubbed a thumb along her jaw. “Seeing you blush might be the sexiest thing ever.”

  “I’m just not used to hearing things like that from the same man who used to demand the Monday morning business briefs by five o’clock the Friday before.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I knew you were secretly opposed to those.”

  She liked making him smile, something that happened more rarely this year after tragedy had struck his family. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Santa and a pretty elf walking through the brightly lit café that flanked one end of the skating rink. A family with small children posed for a photo with them.

  “Employees want to be out the door at five o’clock on Fridays, not planning for Mondays.” She’d been committed to the job though, and to improving herself. She’d never complained.

  “I didn’t keep you late every week.” Jager loosened his hold a bit more, but it was okay since she felt steadier on her feet now.

  “Only most Fridays,” she teased. Despite their light banter, she kept seeing the dream image he’d planted in her mind.

  Her. Straddling him.

  She might not stop blushing for days at this rate.

  “Then I have a lot to make up for.” He drew her near once more so they could navigate another turn. “I hope this trip will be something special that you’ll never forget.”

  “It already is.” She lifted her hand from his neck long enough to gesture at the impressive ninety-foot Christmas tree covered in lights above them. “I’ve always wanted to travel, and New York is...magic.”

  Certainly, she’d never had a Christmas like this. The holiday had never been easy with her father the fisherman making little effort to spend the day at home most years, let alone play Santa or give special gifts the way other fishing families did.

  “I’ve flown in and out of this city so many times for business, but I will admit I’ve never had as much fun as seeing it with you.”

  Her first thought was to argue with him—to call him out on a line meant to romance her. But hadn’t he pointed out that he’d never given her a reason to doubt his honesty and sincerity with her?

  It was her insecurity that made her not want to believe him. The doubts she felt weren’t his fault. If she was going to make this relationship work, with a balanced approach to shared parenting of a child, she needed to start laying the groundwork for trust. More than that, she needed to start trusting herself.

  “This has been one of the most fun days of my whole life,” she told him honestly.

  The fairy-tale images painted on her walls weren’t all that different from this—the twinkling lights combined with the myth and magic of New York. In fact, the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center was staring down at her right now, his gilded facade reflecting all the glow.

  “Look at you,” Jager observed quietly, making her realize she’d been quiet a long time.

  “What?” Blinking through the cloudy fog of worries for the future, she peered up into his eyes.

  “You’re skating.”

  She glanced down at her feet to confirm the surprising news. Jager still held her, true. But she was gliding forward under her own power, the motion subtle but definite.

  Happiness stole through her. She wasn’t going to count on Jager being there for her forever. Not yet, anyway. This Christmastime trip would help her decide if he wanted her for herself, not just for the sake of their child.

  But no matter what happened for them romantically, she realized that this man had given her a precious gift no one else ever had. He’d believed in her from the moment they met, giving her the courage to have more faith in herself too.

  Whatever the future held, she was strong enough to handle it. To move forward. Even if it was on her own.

  Nine

  Later that night, Delia turned off the gold-plated faucet in the bathroom of their suite at The Plaza.

  Gold-plated faucets. Twenty-four-karat gold, in fact, according to the detailed description she’d read in a travel review on her phone while she soaked in the tub.

  After toweling off, she shrugged into a white spa robe embroidered with the hotel crest. Everything about the legendary property was beautiful, from the lavish holiday decorations throughout to the tiled mosaic floor in the bathroom. Delia took mental notes, knowing she could upgrade some of their offerings at McNeill Meadows when they hosted private parties and corporate retreats in the public portion of the historic house.

  After padding from the bathroom into her bedroom, she scanned the contents of the spacious wood-paneled closet with built-in drawers. The butler service had unpacked for them while they were out sightseeing; her nightgown was neatly folded with the lavender sachet she’d packed on top of it. Even her scarves and mittens were folded.

  Dispensing with the spa robe, she dressed in her own nightdress, a wildly romantic gown that had been a rare splurge purchase after her first raise. It was probably the kind of thing a bride wore—diaphanous lemon yellow layers with a satin ribbon through the bodice that tied like a corset. Although it was as romantic as any of her fairy-tale paintings, knowing that she’d acquired it through her own hard work always made her feel like a queen when she wore it. She’d come a long way from the girl who’d nearly bartered her future for a slick businessman who said pretty words but didn’t really love her.

  Switching off the light, she stepped quietly back out into the living room to admire the view of Central Park. She’d already said good-night to Jager, refusing his offer of room service for a bedtime snack.

  She had the distinct impression he was trying to fatten her up, feeding her at every opportunity.

  “Did you change your mind about a meal?”

  The voice from a dark corner of the room nearly made her jump out of her skin.

  “Oh!” Startled, she took a step back, heart racing even though she recognized Jager’s voice right away. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” He unfolded himself from the chair near the window, a tall shadow that became more visible as he stood in front of the ambient light from the street and the park below. “I thought you saw me.”

  “No.” She became very aware of her nakedness under the nightgown. She hadn’t even bothered with underwear, an oversight that made her skin tingle with warmth. “I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

  “I ordered room service while you were in the bath. Just in case.” He moved toward the wet bar, where she could see a tray of bread, cheeses and fruits. A champagne bucket held two large bottles of sparkling water chilling on ice.

  She was tempted.

  Seeing him tempted her even more. She remembered how he’d felt against her in the water that day he’d saved the drowning girl. The way they’d moved together later that same night when desire had spun out of control. She cleared her throat and tried to block out the memories of how his hands felt on her naked skin.

  “That was thoughtful of you. Thank you.” She reached for a water to quench her sudden thirst; her throat had gone very dry.

  “Here, let me.” He moved behind the bar, retrieving two crystal glasses. “Do you want me to switch the lights back on?”

  “No,” she blurted, immediately thinking about the lightweight nature of her nightgown. “We can see the view better this way. That’s why I came out here.”

  While he poured their drinks, Delia walked to the window ne
ar the sofa and stared out into the night. The sounds of the city drifted through the closed windows. Horns, brakes, a distant siren provided a kind of nighttime white noise, the unique city sounds all muffled though, since their room was on the eighteenth floor.

  Behind her, she heard rustling. Something heavy scraping across the floor. When she turned, she saw Jager had pivoted the couch to face the window, keeping the low coffee table in front of it.

  “Come. Have a seat.” He was placing the cheese board on the table, no doubt to tempt her. “We can see for ourselves if this is the city that never sleeps.”

  The invitation sent pleasurable shivers along her skin as if he’d touched her. The sensation was so vivid she debated scurrying back into her room with her glass of water and half a baguette to prevent a rash decision fueled by this insane chemistry. But running away from him every time this man enticed her was not going to lead to productive parenting for their child.

  She bit the inside of her cheek to steel herself, then joined him on the sofa.

  * * *

  He’d never had to work so hard to win a woman’s trust before. The way Delia’s chin was tilted up and her shoulders were thrown back gave her the look of someone stepping into battle rather than just sharing a couch with him.

  As she settled onto the tufted blue cushion, she tucked her bare feet beneath her, her sheer yellow nightgown draping over the edge. His brain still blazed from the way she’d looked while standing in front of the window a moment ago. There’d been just enough light coming through to outline her curves.

  Her absolute nakedness underneath.

  That vision would be filed away in his memory for a lifetime.

  “I love how the lights run in a perfect straight line up either side of the park.” Her attention was on the view and not him, her face tipped into the dull golden light spilling through the window. “It’s so pretty here.”

  “You didn’t mind the cold today?” He focused on slicing the fresh baguette to keep from thinking about touching her.

  “Not one bit. I felt energized. More alive.” She reached for a piece of kiwi and dropped it on a small plate. “I can’t believe how much we did today after we landed.”