Her Pregnancy Secret Page 5

  Before he knew it he was fast asleep.

  * * *

  An alarm buzzed in her ear. When she moaned and rolled over onto soft, downy pillows, her throbbing head felt foggy. Every bone in her body, indeed every muscle she had, screamed in pain. Where had this headache from hell come from?

  She let out a smothered cry and sat up. What was wrong with her? Why did everything hurt?

  “You okay?” growled a deep, protective voice from above her.

  In confusion she blinked up at the tall, broad-shouldered man towering over her. “Michael?”

  What was he doing in her bedroom?

  Confused, she scanned the bright paintings on the walls. No, she was in Will and Tony’s bedroom.

  As Michael’s black eyes continued their blazing appraisal, she blushed at the intimacy of awakening in yet another bedroom with him.

  How long had he been watching her? What was she doing here with him?

  In the next instant his tense, brooding expression had her flashing back to him sitting beside her in the hospital. She remembered the SUV careening across the median straight at her. Tony had been unable to maneuver into another lane. They’d been hit and had rolled. Will’s limp body had crushed hers.

  He hadn’t made it.

  The loss of Will, as fresh as yesterday, slammed into her anew. Sinking into Will’s pillow with a shudder, she groaned and buried her face in her hands. Dear, dear Will, who’d become her best friend after Johnny’s death, was gone.

  Will had been closer to her than most brothers were to their sisters. And now, because desperate circumstances had forced her to agree to marry him, she was stuck with his brother.

  “It was so nice before I saw you and remembered...about Will and Tony and everything that’s happened,” she said. “Reality sucks,” she said mournfully.

  Michael’s black eyes darkened, if that were possible. “I know. There’s always that first moment when you wake up...before you remember. Before the horror hits you.”

  “I don’t want to get up and face a day without them,” she said. “I don’t want to be in their apartment.”

  “Their apartment?”

  “I...I mean Will’s apartment,” she corrected quickly. “Ours. I don’t want to remember...any of it or try to go on. It’s too hard.”

  “Tell me about it. But we don’t have any choice. We have responsibilities.”

  He sounded nice, almost human. But he wasn’t. She had to remember that.

  Michael must have grabbed her phone from the nightstand and shut off her alarm because the noise suddenly stopped.

  “Do you want coffee?” he asked abruptly.

  When she nodded, he vanished.

  She was rubbing her eyes when he returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug. “What time is it anyway?”

  When he held out the mug, she sat up straighter, causing something to fall from her shoulders.

  His jacket. What was his jacket doing wrapped around her? The thought of him worrying about her and watching over her was oddly unsettling.

  “It’s 9:00 a.m.,” he said, picking up his badly wrinkled jacket and folding it under his arm.

  On a normal day she would be at the bistro, preparing for the day, but because of her injuries and the spotting, she wasn’t supposed to work for a whole week. Her mother had volunteered to take over for her. So, here she was, stuck with Michael.

  “I never thought I’d sleep till nine. But since I’ve been pregnant, it happens fairly often.” How could she be talking to him in this normal way?

  “You’re growing a baby. I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I think it wears you out.” His deep voice was oddly gentle. “Think how tired little kids get. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

  His desire to protect her for her baby’s sake made her soften toward him, which was a dangerous reaction. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start believing he was capable of treating her decently.

  But that wasn’t going to happen, and she couldn’t allow herself to wish he could be different.

  Last night she’d actually dreamed Michael was a nice guy. In her dream she’d been afraid, and he’d come running to comfort her.

  Ridiculous fantasy. He was a ruthlessly cold money machine who believed the worst of her. He’d bedded her solely to protect his brother—and the North fortune. When she’d said she wasn’t interested in Will, he’d offered to set her up as his mistress—but for a price. He saw her only as a threat or as a sexual commodity for his own pleasure.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “This place is too small for the two of us.”

  She nodded. “And I hate it here because it reminds me of Will and Tony so much.”

  “Since we’re stuck with each other for the next week,” he said, “I think we’d both be more comfortable at my penthouse.”

  Her heart skittered in fear as she remembered their first wanton night together in his glamorous apartment where he’d seduced her and then broken her heart.

  The last thing she wanted was to spend a week in the place where she’d experienced such devastation.

  “I can’t go back there. Your penthouse isn’t exactly neutral ground. Besides don’t tony Fifth Avenue buildings like yours have dictatorial boards? Would they approve of a woman, a nobody like me from the West Side just moving in?”

  “Leave the board to me. If they exact a price, I’ll pay...”

  “You think you can buy anything you want.”

  “I can—most of the time.” He stared into her eyes. “I have three floors and five bedrooms. Believe me, you’d be able to avoid me there much more easily than you would here. And vice versa.”

  “I suppose that does have its appeal,” she agreed gloomily, hoping to wound him. For some infuriatingly illogical reason the thought that he wanted to avoid her as much as she wanted to avoid him stung.

  * * *

  He smiled. “For once you see reason. So, pack your bag, and we’ll get the hell out of here.”

  She stared at the single drawer where she kept her things. “I...I can’t.”

  “What is it now?”

  “My stuff is still at my old apartment,” she confessed.

  When one black brow arched quizzically, she had to think fast.

  “We...we got married so fast, Will was still in the process of moving things out to clear space for me.” Flushing, she looked away.

  The trouble with lies was that if you told one, you had to keep stacking more on top of the first. How long would it be before he discovered her secret and her house of cards came tumbling down?

  “Okay, then,” he said. “What do you say we do breakfast, and then we go to your place? We have to feed the baby, don’t we?”

  She couldn’t believe she was nodding and almost smiling, or that she was agreeing so easily to move in with him, when he’d behaved so terribly last night, and would probably do so again. She should be furious. If only she could hold on to her anger and stay on her guard around him.

  “Can we eat at Chez Z, so I can see how Bijou is holding up?” she asked.

  He nodded much too agreeably. How would she stand a whole week with this man? She didn’t trust herself to be around him when his every nice gesture made her want to trust him again.

  What if he caught her in a weak moment? What if she stupidly confided her secret? What would he force her to do then?

  Four

  No sooner had Bree led Michael through the doors of Chez Z than she regretted it. Not that anything particularly worrisome was going on in the intimate dining room jammed with yellow chairs and tables, and paintings of sunflowers cheerfully aflame on fire-engine red walls. It was simply that being here with Michael brought back that night—the one that had changed her life so irrevocably and co
mpelled her to marry Will.

  Marcie looked up from setting the tables, smiled and then went back to her work as if having her battered boss show up on the arm of a devastatingly handsome man the morning after she’d survived a fatal car wreck was nothing unusual.

  Bijou rushed over to ask how Bree was feeling. After giving her a concerned once-over, her mother must have felt reassured because she thanked Michael for looking after her. Then Bijou left to check the online reservations for the day, the availability of staff and the status of a delivery that was late.

  Bree didn’t want to think about the first night Michael had come to Chez Z, but with his strong hand gripping her wrist, it was impossible not to. His mere touch made the bright walls squeeze closer and her breath come faster.

  Again she saw him striding through the doors alone on that warm summer evening, his black eyes purposeful as he looked for her. She knew now his sole intent had been to seduce her so he could neutralize her importance to Will. But that night, fool that she’d been, she’d felt flattered that he’d sought her out and had rushed up to him with pleasure.

  Will had warned her about Michael, of course, saying that he was a real bastard when it came to business and could be rude and overbearing in his dealings with family and his lovers.

  “He’s a coldhearted genius who ruthlessly annihilates our foes. He’ll do or say anything to win. Dad said he’s what our family needs in this competitive world—so he put him in charge. Even though he’s adopted, we all have to answer to him. Believe me, Michael interferes in everything. He says it’s because he cares, and it is. But he can be rough and difficult.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “I mind, but he grew up hard. He once told me he was raised by wolves, so I sort of understand. He thinks he’s protecting me. He really does, and he’ll destroy anybody he sees as a threat to me. He worries about any woman I get close to, so stay away from him.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

  “Believe me—he won’t see it that way.”

  Had she listened?

  Despite Will’s warning, when his darkly handsome brother had flirted with her at the fund-raiser, she’d fallen fast and hard, maybe because he’d exuded way too much masculine power, confidence and charm for an innocent like her to resist.

  And, oh, how foolishly she’d exulted when he’d walked into Chez Z looking for her. For her, when he could have had a gorgeous supermodel.

  Tall and fit in his perfectly cut gray silk suit, his brilliant gaze and quick smile had dazzled her.

  Mark, the maître d’, had bowed and stepped aside when she’d rushed up to Michael, saying she’d lead him to his table.

  “Hello again,” he’d whispered against her ear as she picked up a menu and a wine list for him. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

  As if any woman could forget...least of all her, who had zero experience with men like him.

  “Will’s brother? Even if you weren’t my dearest friend’s brother, how could I possibly forget you?” Realizing how eager she must have sounded, she’d blushed. “I—I didn’t mean,” she’d stammered. But she had. He was gorgeous. “Welcome to Chez Z.”

  His hard, sensual mouth had curved in amusement as if he considered her blushes and stammering his due. “I want a table in your section.”

  “I’m afraid I’m off tonight. I was just about to leave.” She felt a pang of acute disappointment at this admission. “I’m going to see a movie with a friend.”

  “Too bad,” he said with such genuine regret her tummy flipped. “Perhaps I can tempt you into joining me for a glass of champagne.” He grinned down at her gently. “If I promise to select a very good year, maybe you’ll decide to go to a later show.”

  Bree knew she was in over her head and that she should say no and leave to meet her friend, but when he looked at her in that intimate way, she wanted to be with him too badly to deny herself. Never in her whole life had she felt so excited. Cathy would have to understand.

  “I guess I could stay for one glass...if it’s a very good year.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. As his thumb casually stroked the inside of her palm, thrilling warmth flooded her. He laughed at her blushes. Heads turned to regard them. The feminine gazes lingered on him before resting quizzically on her.

  When she called Cathy, her friend suggested they postpone the outing until later in the week, which suited Bree even better.

  She’d never been with anyone like Michael. Truthfully, she hadn’t dated much at all. Oh, she’d loved a boy in college, but he’d broken her heart when he’d fallen for her best friend. Others had been interested in her, but she would have been settling if she’d let any of them make love to her. So, here she was, a virgin in her twenties, flirting with a man she should have run from.

  Champagne, coupled with the aromas of garlic, duck and foie gras, had heightened her senses until she’d become giddy with conceit at finding herself the companion of such a virile and attractive man.

  The heady pleasure of his company, of eating and drinking with him, had quickly proved too much. Food was like an aphrodisiac to her, and she wasn’t much of a drinker. One glass of champagne had led to another because she hadn’t wanted him to think her an ingenue.

  She couldn’t get enough of the cool pale liquid that tasted so bubbly and sweet. She’d basked in Michael’s teasing and flirting. Suddenly there had been only him filling the dining room. The murmur of the other diners’ voices and the clatter of their plates and silverware had soon died to nothing.

  Soon she’d forgotten her shyness and her amazement that such a stunning man was interested in her. With such chemistry between them, of course he was interested, she’d told herself, as she’d allowed him to draw her out.

  When he leaned across the table, questioning her as if he found her fascinating, she’d told him all about her brother, Z, and about the strong-minded Bijou, who had adored Z more than anyone or anything in the world. Next Bree told him about the rest of her colorful family who had supported Z in his efforts to garner fame and respect with his cooking skills.

  When their frogs’ legs came, Michael picked one up with his fingers, and she watched him eat it. She picked up her own frog leg and nibbled at the rich, succulent flesh as gracefully as she could. He smiled when she sucked at the juice dripping down one of her fingertips. At the same moment they both dipped their fingers into the bowl of warm water tartly scented with lemon. When their fingers accidentally touched, a hot dart of excitement made her tummy turn over.

  “I wanted to go into publishing,” she said, quickly yanking her hand from the bowl. “To be an editor, but the family needed me here to help Z, who was bringing us all such glory. I couldn’t resist them even if I always felt a little lost and colorless around all of them. They are all people of such grand passions and ambitions.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” he murmured.

  When he looked at her, she felt alive, special—every bit as exciting as her relatives. It was a new and heady experience.

  “I’m a book person. They love being center stage. They love the television shows shot in the bistro’s kitchen. But Z left me the bistro, maybe because I shared his passion for food and was the most faithful about showing up whenever he had an emergency. Ironically, my exciting family works for dull me now.”

  “You are not dull. Far from it. Z must have realized you cared for the bistro.”

  Maybe she hadn’t known how much she loved it until Z was gone and he’d left it to her. Michael had a point. She did care. She didn’t want to lose the bistro and all Z and her family had worked for.

  “Well, I’m not doing well in business, so dull or not, I’m in trouble with them for failing Z.”

  Michael picked up another frog leg. “Can’t you quit? This wasn’t your dr
eam.”

  “But it is now,” she said, realizing for the first time it was true. “The bistro means so much to all of them...and yes, to me. Investors, family, friends—they’ve sunk money into the restaurant. It’s not just about a livelihood. It’s about respect and family honor. It’s for Z...and all the people I love. I’ll do anything to save it. Anything.”

  His eyes had darkened. “But what about you? Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “It wasn’t at first, but it is now.”

  “I envy you, having a family, a real family, and the goal to help them.”

  She paused. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on like that. I’ve done all the talking. You know, I don’t normally do this.”

  “Do what?”

  Once more he took her hand and turned it over in his, and again she felt the sharp sizzle of sensual excitement.

  “This. I don’t date much. I don’t have the time right now. I’m sure you’d have more fun with some other girl...I mean, some other woman.”

  “You’re very wrong.” When he ran his thumb over her wrist, she gasped.

  His eyes lit up, and she wondered if he sensed the intensity of her response.

  “Don’t apologize for being who you are,” he whispered. “I like you. I came here because I wanted to get to know you better.”

  “Why?”

  “I think you know why.”

  Did he feel something, too?

  As he continued to run his thumb over her wrist and the inside of her palm, the hot current of desire throbbed with an ever greater force.

  “Will said you’re adopted.”

  A shadow passed over his face and his eyes grew bleak before he looked down.

  She felt so stupid. Why, oh, why had she said that?

  “Yes. I’m adopted.” Then he was silent so long she grew uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s not something I talk about often, but I want to talk to you. I grew up poor. Poor enough to know what it feels like to be nothing.”