CEO'S Secret Baby: A Standalone Surprise Pregnancy Romance
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CEO’s Secret Baby
Iona Rose
CEOs Secret Baby
Copyright © 2020 Iona Rose
The right of Iona Rose to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Publisher: SomeBooks
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Coming Soon… Sample Chapters
About the Author
Also by Iona Rose
Author’s Note
Hey there!
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Chapter 1
Leah
“Leah…” Anne groaned. “Shut that thing off!”
I came to from my light doze. The crowing from my phone’s alarm finally pierced my subconscious. My eyelids lazily fluttered open.
“Leah!” She groaned again.
It took me a few more seconds to process what her complaint was about. I reached for the phone on the stool by my side and cut the ringing.
“We’ll burn, Leah,” Anne complained. “Set it for another half hour.”
I turned from my front, and rested on my back. I ignored her for a moment as I tried to recollect myself. My eyes opened fully then, squinting a little at the daylight’s sharp reception beyond the shade of our wicker parasol.
There were now hordes of people in the ocean and around the sandy beach, much more than had been present when we’d arrived about two hours earlier.
I picked up my phone, and reset the alarm.
Slender, but hostile hands reached out to repeatedly tap my arm. “Change the sound from that damn crowing cock. It’s driving me crazy.”
I turned my gaze to my pestering friend.
Laid out by my side in an orange gingham bikini, Anne’s blonde hair looked matted wildly on top of her head, akin to a bird’s nest. Her expression looked drowsy as her face contorted irritably.
“You’re becoming a nightmare,” I growled as I lifted my hands above my head. The stretch was almost magical, the creaks and soreness I hadn’t even been aware of smoothened out of my overly rested bones.
She sighed and went back to sleep.
I turned to the beach bed by my right, to see that the third member of our party was missing. “Where’s Tracy?” I drawled.
I didn't get a response so my gaze roved across the expansive stretch of sand and people, hoping to spot her one-piece Coca-Cola swimsuit somewhere amongst it all.
I had no luck, so I gave up and was about to shut my eyes when I heard her high-pitched call. I looked over at the shout.
Tracy was waving excitedly from the distance with one hand, while the other supported a basket of snacks as she headed over to us. Behind her was Mehmet, the genie from the beach’s snack bar we had acquainted ourselves with since our arrival two days earlier.
He was approaching with a tray of colorful fruit garnished cocktails.
This sight instantly made me sit up.
“Anne, I brought you a Mai Tai,” Tracy announced as she arrived. “Leah, the Hurricane’s for you.”
“Thank you,” I cheered as I reached out with both hands for the red gradient drink. “Thank you, Mehmet.” I smiled at the gaunt, bearded server.
“You’re welcome ma’am,” he said, his eyes lowered to the ground, his response was somewhat shy.
I couldn’t blame him. We were all half-naked.
I took a good long sip of the fruity rum punch, and it made me feel like I’d been resurrected from the dead. A moan escaped my throat, as I thanked the gods for a good life.
Tracy settled into her bed as Mehmet placed the remaining cocktail on the stool by her side. “Anne, I'm taking yours,” she said.
Our presumably sleeping friend got up instantly. With a sharp look at Tracy, she rounded our beds and picked up her drink. Then she grabbed some cookie packets from the basket, and returned to her corner.
It was amusing enough.
We all soon settled in, watching the vastness and flurry of activities beyond as we consumed our light refreshments.
“I want to lounge there tomorrow,” Tracy said.
I turned to see her longing gaze on the beds and parasols on the pier extended over the sea.
“Keep dreaming,” Anne said. “In order to get a spot there you have to be up at the crack of dawn to make the reservation.”
“I’ll do it,” Tracy said brightly and picked up her phone. “I’ll set the alarm for 6 am.”
Anne shared a look with me.
I couldn't help snorting with laughter into my drink. “We came here to get away from alarms, Tracy,” I said. “Not continue to set them.”
She was adamant. “Well, I want to lounge on the pier, so I'm going to get up to reserve it.”
“Good luck with that,” Anne said. “By the time we get back from Pirates today, who knows if we’ll even be able to walk.”
Tracy and I both turned to her.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We’re going back there?” Tracy complained.
“There’s a foam party tonight,” Anne replied. “The hot bartender told me.”
“Foam party?” Tracy spat, her tone laced with disgust.
I remained indifferent because no matter how crazy things got I planned to stay on the sidelines.
“Yup! Foam party,” Anne repeated unapologetically.
“What are we, nineteen? Foam parties are ridiculous!” Tracy huffed.
“No, they’re not!” Anne countered. “They’re a helluva lot of fun, and did you miss the part about ‘the hot bartender’?
I have a grinding appointment with him tonight.”
“His mouth was in yours half the night yesterday, and you still don’t know his name?” Tracy countered.
Anne set her empty glass down and leaned back on her bed, her arms behind her head, eyes shut with a massive smile across her face. “I don’t need to. What’s important is that the entire floor is going to be steamy… and wet… and he’s going to be there…” She gave us a glance, bright with perversion. “Preferably behind me. I’m wearing white and no bra.”
I smiled. “I’ve never been to a foam party before,” I said to Anne. “Heard about them though. Are they really that bad?”
Tracy’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Not even in college?”
I shook my head.
“Well, you’re not missing anything. They’re disgusting. The entire floor is covered with soap suds that may or may not blind you before the end of the night. Everyone is wet and stepping on you and pushing each other out of the way. And the falling? Ugh, that’s the worst part. You’ll most likely be sliding and slipping into vomit and pee. People even have sex in there so you can add a floor full of cum to that mix.”
“Oh my God. Tracy!” Anne scolded. “Leah, don’t listen to her. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Hate to burst your bubble,” Tracy countered, as she couldn’t hold back her smile at the pun. “You’re going to wish you came with me to the Fire of Anatolia dance show.” Tracy nodded.
I smiled with her. “Dance show?”
Tracy sat up excitedly, eager to sell her agenda. “Yes, and it’s going to be fabulous.”
“Isn’t that held at the Aspendos Arena?” Anne asked.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Leah, that’s a two hour drive.”
“Oh hell no,” I refused. “I got carsick on the way here from the airport. I’m not riding in anything until we’re leaving.”
Tracy settled back on her bed with a defeated sigh.
Anne chuckled in victory. “Don’t worry, Leah,” she said, “the actual foam dispensing will only begin at about 2 am.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” I said. “I plan to watch from a very safe and dry place.”
Tracy’s gaze turned fiery. “I will kill you.” She turned to Anne. “And you.”
Anne tapped my hand. “Great choice, Leah. Great choice.
Just before midnight, we arrived at the Havana club in the center of the city.
We were dressed accordingly‒me in a leather miniskirt, a black tube top and knee-high alligator sandals.
Tracy wore baggy jeans and a fitted graphic tee with the words, don’t talk to me, printed across the front. She was long over what had been our routine since our arrival of partying until sunrise and then heading back to the hotel to deal with the resulting hangovers and exhaustion for the better part of the following day.
Anne however, was the star of the night. She wore a smile she hadn’t been able to wipe off all evening at the prospect of her night. She had come as intended, braless and in a white cotton dress.
“You’re already nipping,” Tracy pointed at her chest as we headed down the dimly lit stairs towards the club’s main entrance.
“I’m also already wet,” Anne said unashamedly.
“Wow!” Tracy responded.
“Exactly,” Anne said. “I’m choosing to have fun. You can hang out in the corner with your flats and sip water.” The club’s stamp was pressed to the inside of her wrist then she shimmied to the rhythm of the deafening electronic music as she made her way into the club.
I put my hand around Tracy’s reluctant frame and led us both along.
“Why does she have so much say over our itinerary?” She grumbled.
“Because she arranged the trip,” I said.
“If I don’t get a say in what we do tomorrow, I’m going home.” Tracy pouted.
“Let’s just give her a few more days,” I said. “She’ll tire of the clubs soon and we’ll be able to get to all the other fun stuff.”
After this, we couldn't speak without having to lean in and scream into each other’s ears, so we saved our energy and headed straight to the bar.
Two glasses of dirty martinis were already waiting for us, and Anne’s beloved bartender’s tongue already down her throat as she leaned across the counter.
“Makmad!’ Someone yelled at him.
He pulled away from his frolicking enough to notice myself and Tracy as we took our seats. “Ladies,” he greeted.
We gave him a nod before turning condemning looks to our lust stricken friend.
It was then I first spotted him.
Somehow, it was as though I felt his eyes on me and was compelled into turning my gaze specifically towards him.
He was quite the distance away at the curve of the circular bar and just as I picked up my glass, he did the same to his tumbler of golden liquor.
He was speaking to the man by his side, his gaze fixated on him and the vibrant hues from the lights around the club dancing in his seemingly translucent eyes.
He looked handsome, more handsome than any man I’d seen in a long time, and I found myself unable to look away. His structured face was clean shaven, a particularly rare sight for people on vacation on this side of the world. I’d spotted the occasional stubble, but a clean shave seemed quite rare.
He appeared to be confident, but it took absolutely nothing away from the raw, masculine aggression I could almost feel from where he sat. A chiseled jawline and silky hair brushed away from his face in perfect waves. His lips… they were just the perfect curve to compliment his features. His eyes looked so intense that they could literally make me combust if they were to ever settle on me.
And then they did.
He turned as though fully aware of my staring and rested his gaze on me.
I immediately turned away, my hand almost missing my glass as I dove for it as cover. I lifted the rim to my lips, ignoring the thudding of my heart against my chest and faced Tracy. “Texting Jared?” I asked, glancing at the phone in her hands and the worried look on her face.
“Yeah,” she said. “He was sick today. He couldn’t even go to work.”
I sucked in my breath. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” she said.
Then I noticed Anne was missing.
“She went to the bathroom,” Tracy told me.
Nodding, I turned around to watch all the fun people were having on the dance floor beyond. I tried to push away the thought that perhaps the man had noticed me just like I had him, but I didn’t expect this to be likely, given the plethora of women who paraded near us in even shorter skirts and dangerous stilettos.
I chatted and laughed lightly with Tracy, but my mind was no longer with her. It was across the room, with the hot looking stranger I so desperately wanted to come up to me to introduce himself.
I set my empty glass down to my left and didn’t bother ordering a refill. I hoped to God that he would take the hint and come over with an offering to buy me another.
The minutes ticked away… and nothing happened.
My hopes fell, as I fought with myself about turning towards his direction to catch another look, but my head refused to move, especially since I’d already gotten caught staring. So I continued speaking to Tracy, “What’s the best way to get a man to come say hello to you?”
Tracy rested her gaze on me. “What man?”
“No one,” I shifted on the stool. “I’m just asking.”
“I have no idea,” she answered and returned her attention to her phone.
“Didn’t you meet Jared at that French coffee shop?”
“He came up to me on his own. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Ah, so I’m screwed.”
She paid attention then. “Where is he?” she asked and started to look around.
My heart almost gave out. “I will punch you,” I threatened.
She laughed. “Seriously, where is he?”
I turned in my stool to face the
bar. “Nine o’clock.”
She faced it too. “Yours or mine?”
“Mine,” I groaned. “Towards the end of the curve, he’s talking to someone.”
She looked, discretely enough I hoped.
“There’s no one there,” she said.
My brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
I shot my gaze over to where he had been sitting.
Tracy was right.
He was gone.
Chapter 2
Leah
The hours that followed were completely uneventful.
Loosened up after a few drinks, myself and Tracy eventually went down to the dance floor. But we remained in a safe corner, moving in comical spurts with each other and then pausing when we got tired to watch the rest of the crowd.
They all seemed to grind and twist their bodies against each other to the rhythm of the deafening music.
Anne was in the midst of them somewhere, as we had long set her free to experience the night in the very wild way she wanted to.
Soon enough, Tracy was itching to return home and so was I, but a corner of my heart still held out the hope that perhaps I would see the hot guy again. So I stalled, refusing to take her suggestions of leaving to heart. “When the foam machines begin, we’ll leave,” I said, so we pressed on.
Soon enough, the machines started.
After an announcement that no one could make out amidst the deafening blare of music, the lights went out for a moment, plunging the entire club into a frightening darkness. Then the sound of running machines sounded across the room. The lights came back on and from the ceiling, soap foams were blasted down.