No woman says no to a Lassiter
Months after their passionate tryst, Dylan Lassiter can’t get Jenna Montgomery out of his mind. Maybe being named CEO of his adoptive father’s restaurant empire is making the onetime playboy think about settling down. Or maybe it’s because Dylan just found out Jenna’s having his baby….
When the petite florist flat-out refuses to marry him, the celebrity chef kicks his seduce/woo/wed scheme into high gear. But just as he’s gaining ground, the media unearths a shocking secret from the mother-to-be’s past. Now Dylan could lose the woman—and family—he wants more than anything….
“We Get Married And Raise The Baby Together.”
To his chagrin, Jenna laughed. Not just laughed but snorted and snuffled with it, as if she couldn’t contain her mirth at all.
“It’s not so impossible to think of, is it?” he demanded.
“Impossible? It’s ridiculous, Dylan. We barely even know one another.”
He nodded in agreement. “True. That’s something easily rectified.”
All humor fled from her face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Never more so.”
“No. It would never work. Not in a million years.”
“Why not? We already know we’re—” he paused a moment for effect, his eyes skimming her face, her throat and lower “—compatible.”
“Great sex isn’t the sole basis for a compatible marriage,” she protested.
“It’s a start,” he said, his voice deepening.
* * *
Expecting the CEO’s Child is a Dynasties: The Lassiters novel—A Wyoming legacy of love, lies and redemption!
* * *
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Dear Reader,
We’ve all heard stories about “love rats” and people who scam others in the name of “love,” and it got me thinking, what happens to the people left behind—particularly, the families of the scammers? How painful must it have been to be put under a spotlight that was not of your making and even to be tarred with the same brush, especially if you weren’t involved? How precious would privacy be to you, and how hard would you work to rebuild your life? And so the character of Jenna Montgomery was born in my mind.
Of course, for every privacy-seeking person, there’s one who courts publicity. That person who thrives on being known and using that notoriety to further their business—in this case, Dylan Lassister, celebrity chef and new CEO of the Lassiter Grille Group. Can theirs be a match made in heaven, or are Jenna’s scars from the past too much for her to deal with? And how will she cope when the fact they have created a new life together becomes public knowledge?
It’s always a delight to be invited to participate in a Desire continuity and to work with my fellow authors on our series of linked stories. The setting for my book, Cheyenne, Wyoming, has certainly whet my appetite for more travel and my desire to learn more of this beautiful state beyond what I was able to glean from photos and articles. I hope you will enjoy reading Dylan and Jenna’s story and fall in love along with them as they find their path to their own forever family and happiness.
Happy reading!
Yvonne Lindsay
EXPECTING THE CEO’S CHILD
Yvonne Lindsay
Books by Yvonne Lindsay
Harlequin Desire
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée #2078
The Pregnancy Contract #2117
ΏThe Wayward Son #2141
ΏA Forbidden Affair #2147
A Silken Seduction #2180
A Father’s Secret #2187
ΏOne Secret Night #2217
Something About the Boss… #2252
ΏThe High Price of Secrets #2272
ΏWanting What She Can’t Have #2297
Expecting the CEO’s Child #2306
Silhouette Desire
*The CEO’s Contract Bride #1776
*The Boss’s Christmas Seduction #1758
*The Tycoon’s Hidden Heir #1788
Rossellini’s Revenge Affair #1811
Tycoon’s Valentine Vendetta #1854
Jealousy & A Jewelled Proposition #1873
Claiming His Runaway Bride #1890
ΔConvenient Marriage, Inconvenient Husband #1923
ΔSecret Baby, Public Affair #1930
ΔPretend Mistress, Bona Fide Boss #1937
Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire #1986
^Honor-Bound Groom #2029
^Stand-In Bride’s Seduction #2038
^For the Sake of the Secret Child #2044
*New Zealand Knights
ΔRogue Diamonds
^Wed at Any Price
ΏThe Master Vintners
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
YVONNE LINDSAY
New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, Yvonne Lindsay became an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now, married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.
To my dear friend Rose-Marie, who has known me since we were both teenagers—thank you for always being my friend and an especial thank you for calling florists in Wyoming for me! :) I owe you, Smithy!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Excerpt
One
Jenna puzzled over the complex wreath design a family had requested for their grandmother’s funeral the coming Wednesday. She just about had it nailed; all she needed to confirm with the wholesale suppliers was that she’d be able to get the right shade of lilacs that had been the grandmother’s favorite.
The sound of the door buzzer alerted her to a customer out front. She listened to see if her new Saturday part-time assistant would attend to the client, but the subsequent ding of the counter bell told her that Millie was likely in the cool room out back, or, unfortunately more likely, outside on the phone to her boyfriend again.
Making a mental note to discuss with the girl the importance of actually working during work hours, Jenna pushed herself up from her desk, pasted a smile on her face and walked out into the showroom. Only to feel the smile freeze in place as she recognized Dylan Lassiter, in all his decadent glory, standing with his back to her, his attention apparently captured by the ready-made bouquets she kept in the refrigerated unit along one wall.
Her reaction was instantaneous; heat, desire and shock flooded her in turn. The last time she’d seen him had been in the coat closet where they’d impulsively sought refuge—to release the sexual energy that had ignited so dangerously and suddenly between them. They’d struck sparks off one another so bright and so fierce it had almost been a relief when he’d returned to his base in Los
Angeles. Almost.
Jenna fought the urge to place a hand protectively across her belly—to hide the evidence of that uncharacteristic and spontaneous act. She’d known from the day her pregnancy was confirmed that she’d have to tell him at some stage. She hadn’t planned for it to be right now. At first she’d been a little piqued that he’d made no effort to contact her since that one incredible encounter. She had half understood he’d been too busy to call her in the aftermath of his father’s sudden death during Dylan’s sister’s wedding rehearsal dinner. But afterward? When everything had begun to settle down again?
She gave herself a mental shake. No, she’d successfully convinced herself that she didn’t need or want the complication of a relationship. Especially not now and especially not with someone as high profile as Dylan Lassiter. Not after all the years of work she’d put into rebuilding her reputation. She’d made a conscious choice to put off contacting him, too, and despite the slight wound to her feminine ego that he’d obviously done the same, she would just have to get over it because she sure as heck had plenty else to keep her mind occupied now.
“Can I help you?” she said, feigning a lack of recognition right up until the moment he turned around and impaled her with those cerulean-blue eyes of his.
Air fled from her lungs and her throat closed up. A perfectly tailored blue-gray suit emphasized the width of his shoulders, while his white shirt and pale blue tie emphasized the California tan that warmed his skin. Her mouth dried. It was a crime against nature that any man could look so beautiful and so masculine at the same time.
A hank of softly curling hair fell across his high forehead, making her hand itch to smooth it back, then trace the stubbled line of his jaw. She clenched her fingers into a tight fist, embedding her nails in her palms as she reminded herself exactly where such an action would inevitably lead.
He was like a drug to her. An instant high that, once taken, created a craving like no other. She’d spent the past two and a half months in a state of disbelief at her actions. She, who’d strived to be so careful—to keep her nose clean and to fly under the radar—was now carrying the child of a man she’d met the day it was conceived. A man she’d barely known, yet knew so much about. Certainly enough not to have succumbed the way she had.
It had literally been a one-night stand, she reminded herself cynically. The coat closet hadn’t allowed for anything else. But as close as the confines had been, her body still remembered every second of how he’d made her feel—and it reacted in kind again.
“Jenna,” Dylan said with a slow nod of his head, his gaze not moving from her face for so much as a second.
“Dylan,” she replied, taking a deep breath and feigning surprise. “What brings you back to Cheyenne?”
The instant she said the words she silently groaned. The opening. Of course he was here for that. The local chamber of commerce—heck, the whole town—was abuzz with the news. She’d tried to ignore anything Lassiter-related for weeks now, but there was no ignoring the man in front of her.
The father of her unborn child.
A noise from the back of the store made both of them turn around. Oh, thank God. Millie had finally deigned to show up and do her job.
“Ah,” Jenna said, fighting to hide her relief. “Here’s Millie. She’ll be able to assist you with any requirements you might have. Millie, this is Mr. Lassiter, he’s opening the Lassiter Grill in town. Please make sure you give him our best service.”
She sent Dylan a distracted smile and turned to go, only to feel him snag her wrist with warm strong fingers. Fingers that had done unmentionably wicked things to her and whose touch now sent a spiral of need to clench deep inside her.
“Not so fast,” Dylan said, spinning her gently back to face him again. “As capable as I’m sure Millie is,” he continued, flashing a smile that had the impressionable teen virtually melting on the spot, “I’d prefer to deal with you directly.”
“I’m sure you would,” Jenna answered as quellingly as she could. “But Millie is available to help you with your inquiry. I am not.”
Her heart rate skipped up a beat as a hint of annoyance dulled his eyes.
“Scared, Jenna?”
His low tones were laced with challenge. Jenna stiffened her spine.
“Not at all, just very busy.”
“Not too busy, I’m sure, to catch up with an old friend.”
Hot color stained her cheeks. They weren’t anything near approaching friends. She barely knew him any better now than she had the day they’d met—the day they were so drawn to one another that flirtation had turned to touching, and touching had turned to impassioned, frenzied lovemaking in the nearest available private space.
A butterfly whisper of movement rippled across her lower belly, shocking her into gasping aloud. Of course—the moment she’d been awaiting for weeks, her baby’s first perceptible motion, would have to happen with its father standing right here in front of her.
Dylan’s fingers tightened on her wrist. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “Just very busy.”
“Then I’ll only take a few minutes of your time.” He gave her a searching look. “Your office?”
Her body wilted in defeat. “Through here.”
He released her wrist and she felt the cool air of the showroom swirl around her sensitized skin, as if her body instantly mourned the loss of contact, his touch. She found herself rubbing at the spot where he’d held her, as if she could somehow rub away the invisible imprint he’d left upon her.
Stop being ridiculous, she growled silently. He was nothing to you before, aside from an out of character dalliance, and he’s nothing to you now. Logically she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. Despite the fact he was based in L.A., with the new restaurant opening here in town they were bound to cross paths again sometime. It might as well be now.
The tiny fluttering sensation rippled through her belly again, reminding her that there was a great deal more to consider than just her own feelings about seeing Dylan Lassiter. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed that her petite frame carried a new softness about it now. That her figure, rather than being taut and flat, was gently rounded as the baby’s presence had suddenly become more visible at thirteen weeks.
She hadn’t shared news of her pregnancy with anyone yet, and had no plans to start right now. Instead, she’d sought to hide it by changing from her usual style of figure-hugging attire to longer, more flowing lines.
As they entered the tiny office she used for administration, she gestured to the chair opposite her desk and sank, gratefully, into her own on the other side. Instead of taking the seat offered to him, Dylan sat on the edge of her desk. She couldn’t help but notice the way the fine wool of his trousers skimmed his long powerful thighs, or how the fabric now stretched across his groin.
Her mouth suddenly felt parched and she turned to reach for the water jug and glasses that she kept on a credenza behind her desk.
“Water?” she offered with a croak.
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
She hastily splashed a measure of clear liquid into a glass for herself and lifted it to her lips, relishing the cooling and hydrating sensation as the drink slid over her tongue. After putting the glass down on the desk, she pulled a pad toward her and picked up a pen.
“So,” she said, looking up at him. “What is it you want?”
He reached out and took the pen from her hand, laying it very deliberately down on the notepad. “I thought we could talk. You know, reminisce about old times.”
Heat pooled at the apex of her thighs and she pushed her chair back from her desk. Anything to increase the distance between them.
“Look, you said a few minutes, and frankly, that’s all I had. Your time’s up. If there’s nothing business related you need to discu
ss...?” She hesitated a moment, her temper snapping now at the humor reflected in his eyes. “Then you’ll have to excuse me so I can attend to my work.”
Dylan’s sinfully sensuous lips curved into a half smile. “You’re different, Jenna. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’ll figure it out.”
She fought back a groan. The man was all about detail. She knew that intimately. If she didn’t get him out of here soon he was bound to notice exactly what it was that was different about her. She wasn’t ready for that, not right now, anyway. She needed more time.
Before she could respond, he continued, “I want you to do the flowers for the opening. Wildflowers, grasses, rustic—that kind of thing. Can you do it?”
“I’ll get my staff on to preparing some samples for you on Monday. I take it you’ll be around?”
His smile widened. “Oh, yes, I’ll be around. And your staff won’t be handling this for me. You will.”
“My staff are well trained and efficient—”
“But they’re not you—and I want you.”
His words hung in the air between them. She could feel them as if he’d actually reached out and touched her.
“You can’t have me,” she whispered.
“Can’t I? Hmm, that’s a darn shame,” he said. “Because then I’d have to take my business elsewhere.”
His words, so gently spoken, sent a spear of ice straight through her. It would take only a day for the news that she’d turned his business away to get through town. Less than that again before more people would follow his cue and take their business to other florists, as well. She’d fought long and hard to get a reputation as the leading florist in town and she wasn’t going to lose it just like that.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she swiftly considered her options. Well, option. She really had no other choice but to take his business. Refusing it, with the associated fallout when word got around that she’d turned down a Lassiter—well, it didn’t bear thinking about. However, the benefits would roll in pretty quickly when it was known that she’d done the flowers for the opening. There was nothing some of the better-heeled members of Cheyenne society loved more than following a trend set by the Lassiter family.
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