EXPECTING THE CEO'S CHILD

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “Don’t you worry, honey,” Marlene said softly as she handed Jenna a crisply laundered, lace-edged handkerchief. “We’ll take good care of you.”

  Jenna wiped her eyes and fought to get her ridiculous emotions under control. She was a virtual stranger to these people. Yet because of one impulsive accident, they were prepared to open their hearts to her. She’d been so closed up, so reluctant to let anyone in, that she felt slightly off-kilter at the prospect of even thinking of accepting help and support. She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve their trust or their generosity.

  Even so, the idea of it dangled before her like a tantalizing, yet forbidden, fruit.

  Nine

  Dylan looked over to where the women were talking. Something tightened in his chest when he saw Jenna’s expression and recognized the distress on her face. He went to step toward her, but was arrested by Chance’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t,” his cousin said.

  “She’s upset. She needs me.”

  “Mom will look after her. Trust me. She’ll have everything under control.”

  Dylan watched as Jenna recovered her usual poise. And as the women seemed to grow closer and enjoy one another’s company, their laughter floated toward him on the light evening breeze.

  “Do you want some more horse derves, Uncle Dylan?” Cassie asked from beside him, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

  “No, thank you,” he replied, squatting down to her level. “But thank you for taking such great care of us. How about you offer some of those to the ladies?”

  “Okay!” the little girl said brightly.

  He watched as she strutted importantly to the table where the women sat. A sense of wonder stirred deep inside him. Would his kid be a boy or a girl? Would it one day be right here, playing on this patio like he had?

  “So when did you knock her up?” Chance’s voice interrupted his reverie.

  Dylan’s hackles rose. He didn’t care for his cousin’s turn of phrase. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “Of course it is. Sage thinks it isn’t yours—that she’s maybe pulling a fast one on you.”

  “Sage should keep his thoughts to himself,” Dylan growled. “It’s mine. And so is she.”

  His cousin nodded, clearly satisfied with that response. “You going to be a hands-on dad?”

  “Every chance I get,” Dylan replied emphatically.

  Chance looked pensive. “I often wonder what life would have been like to have grown up with my own dad around longer, y’know?” His father had died when Chance was eight years old. He, too, knew what it was like to grow up without his natural father.

  “Yeah. It’s why I’m going to be there for my kid, through thick and thin.”

  “And Jenna? How does she feel about that?”

  Dylan took a swig of his beer and rolled the brew over his tongue for a moment before swallowing. “She’s coming around to the idea,” he said with a grin.

  Chance gave him a punch on the arm. “Thatta boy. Besides, with all you can offer, why would she refuse?”

  “That’s the thing. She doesn’t seem to want what I can offer. She’s fierce about her independence, and from what I can tell, she’s worked hard for it. I just need to convince her that it’s okay to share the load.”

  “Well, good luck with that. I’d rather rope a steer in a bad mood than try and convince a woman of anything.”

  “Good point,” Dylan concurred, before gesturing to the platter of raw steak waiting to be cooked. “Hey, you going to do anything with those or are you waiting for them to cook themselves?”

  The seriousness of their discussion broken, they turned to the matter of cooking the meat. But a niggling thought remained at the back of Dylan’s mind. What if Jenna wouldn’t let him in? What if she wouldn’t share the load? What then? He knew he could use his power and his money to get what he wanted, but the very idea soured his stomach. No, he wanted her to come to him willingly and wholeheartedly. Not because she had to, not because she was being coerced. But because she wanted to as much as he wanted her.

  * * *

  It was late when he drove Jenna home. Dylan had fully expected her to want to leave soon after they’d enjoyed their meal, but it seemed that the longer she spent with his family, the more she wanted to stay. It made him begin to hope that she could see herself being a part of his own close circle. Part of his life.

  “Thank you for taking me tonight. I really enjoyed it,” she said softly.

  “It was my pleasure. I’m glad you came.”

  “They’re all so lovely. And Cassie’s so sweet. I loved how she crawled into your lap after dinner and just fell asleep there.”

  He’d loved it, too. Had welcomed the little girl’s trust in him. It had been a precious gift, and he’d missed the weight of her little body when Hannah had eventually lifted her and carted her off to bed. It made him yearn even more to be a father, to cradle a child of his own in his arms.

  “Kids are special. No doubt about it.”

  Dylan drove onto Jenna’s driveway and got out to walk her to her front door. He waited on the porch as she fitted her key in the lock, the breeze bringing a teasing hint of her fragrance toward him. Roses. She always carried that sweet scent on her. It suited her. The flower was so beautiful yet could be prickly at the same time.

  She pushed the door open and hesitated a second or two. He saw her shoulders lift and then drop, as if she’d drawn in a deep breath.

  “Jenna? You okay?”

  She turned to face him. “Do you...?”

  She bit her bottom lip, the action having the exact same effect on him as it had the other day. Fire licked along his veins as he waited for her to finish her sentence.

  “Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

  Hell, yeah, a little voice all but screamed at the back of his mind. He didn’t want tonight to end. She’d softened, somehow. Her defenses seemed lower than before. He pushed the screaming voice aside. He needed to tread softly. He certainly didn’t want to scare her or damage the tentative closeness that had grown between them tonight.

  “One more drink and I’ll be over the limit to drive,” he said quietly—asking her the important question without putting it into so many words. He’d go if that’s what she wanted. He wouldn’t be happy about it. But he’d go.

  Jenna took a step closer to him and placed her hand on his chest. “Then perhaps you should stay.”

  His breath caught in his lungs. Could she feel his heart all but leap from his chest at her words? “Perhaps I should,” he managed to reply, and hooked an arm around her waist.

  They headed in together. He let her go as she walked around her sitting room, flicking on the occasional light.

  “I’m not even sure what I have in the way of spirits, but I’m bound to have some wine. Would that be—?”

  Her voice broke off as he caught her hand and drew her to him.

  “I don’t really want a drink, Jenna,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

  “You don’t?”

  “No, I just want you.”

  “Oh.”

  It was all she got time to say before he kissed her. The taste of her lips almost blew his head off and ignited the slow-burning embers within him to flaming, ravenous heat. His kiss was hungry, demanding, and to his delight she met his need with corresponding passion. Her hands slid upward, from his chest to his neck, then cupped the back of his head, not letting him break the kiss.

  “Bedroom,” he demanded against her mouth, not wanting to remove his lips from hers for even a second.

  She pointed down the hallway. “At the end, on the right.”

  He scooped one arm behind her knees and the other behind her back and lifted her, holding her body agains
t his. She snaked an arm around his shoulders and caressed his cheek with her free hand, as if she was as reluctant to break their connection, their kiss, as he. He covered the short distance down the hall and pushed the door open with his foot. Her bedroom was small, with minimal decoration. Simple in its design. A plainly covered bed took up most of the space, a solid plank of blond wood serving as a headboard.

  Dylan let Jenna slide to her feet.

  “I want to see you this time,” he growled, moving away from her for the brief second it took to switch on the bedside lamp.

  He turned back to her and reached to lift her loose-fitting tunic from her body. His mouth dried at the sight he revealed, his untaken breath burning in his chest. Her skin was smooth, with the lightest touch of summer in its tone. He let his gaze track down her throat, across her shoulders and to her breasts, which spilled from the lacy cups of her bra.

  “I told you you were beautiful. I was wrong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re so much more than that.”

  His hand reached out to trace a faint blue vein on her breast, and he heard her sharply indrawn breath. He followed the line to where it disappeared beneath the pale blue scalloped edge of her bra.

  “I’m going to kiss you there,” he promised, lifting his eyes to hers—his stomach clenching at the heat he saw burning back at him. “But first, I’m going to see all of you.”

  He took his time removing her sandals and slim-fitted capris until she had only her bra and panties left. Fine tremors quivered through her body as he let his hands drift up her arms to her shoulders. Her skin was so soft, and sweetly fragrant, and he trailed fine kisses along her shoulder and then up the side of her neck.

  “Let me get the bed ready,” she said as he nibbled on her earlobe, just as he’d imagined doing a few short days ago.

  “It looks pretty damn ready to me,” he said when she pulled away with a small laugh.

  Still, he was happy to use the time she took turning down the comforter and tugging back the sheets to shuck off his clothing—something he managed with record speed. His erection strained at the cotton of his boxer briefs and he rubbed his hand down his aching flesh. Soon, he promised himself, soon. But first there were more important things to attend to. Such as examining the woman in front of him from head to foot. Getting to know what made her breathless with desire. Making her scream with pleasure such as she’d never experienced before.

  Jenna lay down on the bed and held out a hand to him. He took it, stretching out next to her and marveling at how perfectly formed she was. He traced the curve of her collarbone again—such a delicate line—and followed his touch with the tip of his tongue. She rewarded him with a sigh of pleasure so he did it again, his tongue lingering in the hollow just at the base of her throat. Her pulse leaped against him, as avid and hungry as his own.

  Dylan continued his voyage of discovery, his fingertips tingling as they met the swell of her breasts. He swept over their shape before letting his hand travel to her shoulders, slipping first one, then the other bra strap down, and reaching beneath her to unsnap the clasp.

  “Should I be worried that you did that so easily?” Jenna teased, but then her voice ended on a gasp as he traced the pale blue line of her vein to where it collided with the dark pink distended nipple.

  “Never,” he said, before using the tip of his tongue to meet that pink tip.

  She shuddered beneath him. “Do that again, please?”

  “Your wish is my command,” he promised, and did as she asked.

  Her moan of delight drove a fierce spear of lust straight to his groin, but he forced himself to ignore it. To dwell instead on her pleasure, on her. He took his time with the rest of her body, lingering over her breasts, her ribs, her belly button, and then moving down to the small firm swell of her belly.

  His hand hovered there and he willed the connection between them to go beyond skin, beyond sensation. His baby. His woman. His life. He pressed a kiss against her skin, his hands now skimming her panties, tracing the outside edge of the fabric where they met the top of her thighs. Her legs trembled at his touch, her pelvis thrusting upward toward him. He cupped her, marveling at the heat and dampness that collected at her core.

  “Dylan, please!”

  He pressed his palm against her, felt her shudder against him.

  “You’re teasing me. It’s not fair,” she cried, her voice a strangled sound.

  “All’s fair,” he said easing her panties down her legs and punctuating his next words with firm kisses on her thighs, then the junction where they met. “In.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “And.” Kiss. “War.”

  His mouth found her center and he saw her hands knot into fists on the sheets as his tongue flicked against her glistening sex. The scent of her was driving him crazy. A delicious blend of rose and musk.

  He couldn’t stand it a second longer. He had to have her, be inside her, be one with her. He shoved his briefs down and settled between her legs, feeling her jolt as he nudged the blunt tip of his erection at her entrance. She lifted her hips in welcome and he slowly let himself be absorbed by the tight warm heat of her body. Slowly, so slowly, until he was buried in her. Until he was exactly where he needed to be.

  His hips flexed and she met his movement with her own, her inner muscles holding and releasing him in time with their actions. Her irises darkened to near black, clouded with the fog of her desire. He tried to make it last, to make it even more special, but when her body began to pulse around his, when her eyes slid closed and she released a keening cry as her body shuddered toward its peak, he lost control—his hips pumping until he, too, reached his climax.

  Lost in the power of wonder and emotion that swept over him, Dylan let his body take him on the ride as he crested wave after wave of pleasure. His entire frame shook with the force of what he’d just undergone—with the perfection of how it had felt. He rolled to one side and gathered Jenna against him, waiting for his heartbeat to return to anything approximating normal.

  It was a long time before he could speak.

  “I think we just proved our first time wasn’t an aberration,” he said with a huff of breath. He felt her chuckle ripple through her.

  “Yes, I think we did.”

  He could hear the humor in her voice, humor mixed with a languid satisfaction that made him feel even better, knowing he’d contributed to her well-being. Everything was right in this moment. Perfect. He knew he’d never tire of this. Of the feeling of her in his arms, of the curve of her sweet bottom beneath his hand. Of this sense of connection he’d never shared with another woman.

  He wanted this—forever, with her. It took all his self-restraint not to press her again to agree to marriage. To agree to committing to one another forever.

  Deep down he knew she still had reservations. Understandable, given the short length of time they’d actually known one another. But they had the rest of their lives to discover all those finer points that kept a relationship interesting. What they shared was a gift beyond compare. He should know—he’d sought perfection wherever he went in whatever he did.

  Jenna Montgomery was that perfection for him. He just needed to convince her of that fact.

  Ten

  Jenna could hear Dylan’s heart racing beneath her ear, and her lips curved into a smile. He might be the CEO of the Lassiter Grill Corporation, he might be a world-renowned chef and playboy, but underneath it all he was still just a man. A pretty damn fine one, that was for sure. And, right now, he was hers.

  Her man forever? She was beginning to believe it could be true. She’d loved spending time with him and his family this evening. Could she find the courage to reach out from behind her safe fortress and grasp what he offered? Only time would tell.

  Dylan’s fingers traced a lazy trail from her hip to her shoulders and back again, his touch sett
ing off tiny shivers beneath her skin. She stretched beneath his touch, like a cat, almost purring.

  “Tell me what you like,” he asked softly. “This?” He firmed his touch. “Or this?”

  “Hmm, let me take about the next twenty minutes or so to get back to you on that,” she replied.

  He laughed and the sound filled her heart with happiness.

  “Twenty minutes? That’s quite a commitment.”

  “It might be,” she said, realizing that if she really wanted this—really wanted him—she needed to take the bull by the horns and open up to him.

  But whenever he started talking about commitment it still struck a knell of fear inside her. He knew virtually nothing about her but the face she presented to him right here, right now. The person she was today was a far cry from the person she’d been eleven years ago.

  Pretty much everything about Dylan and his life was an open book. Yes, he’d had sorrow in his life with the death of his parents and then his adoptive mother, and more recently, J.D. But with each loss, he’d had the advantage of family, of someone else willing to step up to the plate and fill that yearning hole in his life.

  With the loss of his parents it had been J.D. and his wife, Ellie. With the death of Ellie, Jenna had learned tonight, Marlene had stepped into the breach to provide mothering to Dylan and his brother. What had Jenna ever had growing up, except a will for survival? That will had gotten her through her parents’ arguments, their one-upmanship and then her mother’s desertion.

  It had gotten her through the news that her father was taking her to America, away from everything and everyone she’d ever known or allowed herself to anchor to.

  Did she dare anchor herself to Dylan?

  “You’re thinking so hard I can just about hear the cogs turning in your brain,” Dylan said teasingly. “Wanna share?”

  She began to say no, but then realized that this was a perfect opportunity to give him some of her truths. What he did with it would define what happened between them in the future.