Millionaire Mavericks. Jennifer Lewis

she’d had enough, packed her bags and left.”

      “Your mother left without you?”

      “As Lance likes to say, she had her reasons.”

      “My father never hit me, but in a weird way I wish he would have.”

      “No, you don’t.”

      “At least then I would know that he felt something. After my mom died he just…shut down. I did everything I could to make him happy, everything he ever asked, but I still felt invisible.”

      If what she said was true, maybe she didn’t have the spoiled and pampered life after all. Maybe she was just as bitter and confused as everyone else. Or maybe she was one hell of a good actress. Either way, this conversation was getting a little too personal. She needed to understand that when they got back to Texas, things would change.

      But what if she didn’t understand that? What if, God forbid, she thought she was falling in love with him? He knew how it was for women like Lexi. They decided on something they wanted and went after it with a vengeance, all pistons firing. Right up until the second they got bored and found a new toy to amuse them.

      “We should probably talk about how things will be when we get back to Texas,” he said.

      She gazed up at him, her skin luminous in the moonlight. “What things?”

      “Us. Our relationship.”

      “Okay.”

      “I just think I should be clear about a few things. I’m a very busy man, and I like to do things, to live my life, a certain way. You should know that I don’t intend to change.”

      She nodded silently, but he had the distinct impression he’d hurt her feelings. If he had, he was sorry for that, but it was important they were both clear on the way things would be.

      “As we agreed before, this is a business deal. Nothing more.”

      “Of course,” she said, but he could swear there was a slight waver in her voice. An edge of disappointment. Maybe she really believed things had changed. Well, that wasn’t his problem.

      Then why did he feel so damned guilty?

      She was silent the rest of the walk home. When they walked in the door, he expected that they would go their separate ways, to their own beds, but she stunned him by keeping hold of his hand and leading him to his bedroom. The sex was so passionate and intense, for a while he almost forgot that it wasn’t real. As she lay naked beside him, her body curled around his, the idea of this ending seemed almost inconceivable. But he had never been one to mistake sex for affection or love. When she tired of the arrangement and pulled her inevitable disappearing act, he wouldn’t be sorry to see her go.

      Though Mitch’s words stung and she seriously considered giving up, Lexi chose to disregard what he’d said about their marriage and forge ahead with her plan.

      They spent the better part of the next six days in bed, or in various other places, having sex. And when they weren’t climbing all over each other, or collapsing with sheer exhaustion, they sunned themselves by the pool or went for walks and explored the shops in the village. Sometimes they just talked about his work, or their families. There was so much about him she didn’t know—and wanted to learn.

      As the days passed, she slowly began to realize that not only did she have real feelings for Mitch, she was almost positive she was falling in love with him. But since she had never been in love before, she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. She only knew that it had to be something very special, and she didn’t doubt that he was feeling it, too.

      Since that night walking back from the village, he hadn’t said a word about the marriage being just business. Instead, he’d shown his affection for her in a hundred little ways.

      She was confident that in a week or so, if all continued to go well, she would be able to tell him about the baby. Then she could finally stop feeling as though she was walking on eggshells, constantly conscious of everything she said and did.

      She could finally relax and be happy.

      Their last night in Greece, she lay beside Mitch, listening to his deep, heavy breathing as he slept, knowing she should get up and go to her own room, but feeling too lazy to move. She always waited until he was asleep to slip away. As much as she would have loved to spend all night with him, she was still getting sick every morning. Soon though, he would know about the baby, and she could stop hiding. But for now, she really needed to get up.

      Five more minutes, she told herself, letting her eyes drift shut and cuddling up against Mitch’s side.

      When she opened her eyes again, sunshine was pouring in the windows. Mitch was behind her, his breathing slow and deep as he slept, but one part of his anatomy was already wide awake.

      As she was considering the most pleasurable way to wake the rest of him, she felt a familiar lurch in her stomach. She broke out in a sudden cold sweat and a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, she slid out of bed as quietly as possible and pulled on her nightgown. There was no time to make it to her own bedroom. She had no choice but to use Mitch’s bathroom. She reached the commode just as her stomach violently emptied. The spasms were so intense, she was convinced she would look down and find an internal organ or two floating around. When she was finished, her entire body felt limp and shaky. She sat on the floor and rested her face against the cool tile wall.

      “Are you all right?”

      Lexi’s eyes flew open. Mitch was standing in the doorway, wearing only his boxers, his hair mussed from sleep, concern etched on his face. Damn it! She should have shut and locked the door.

      “I’m fine.” She reached over and flushed the commode, but it was obvious that she’d been sick.

      “No, you’re not.” He grabbed a washcloth from the towel bar and soaked it with cool water from the tap. He wrung out the excess and handed it to her. She wiped her face with it, feeling the nausea beginning to pass. She would be completely fine in an hour or so.

      He reached over to feel her forehead, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t have a fever. I’m okay.”

      “What’s going on?” he asked.

      “Must be something I ate,” she lied, and she could see he wasn’t buying it.

      “I know something is wrong. You’ve hardly eaten anything all week, you’ve lost weight, and every morning you look pale and exhausted. I want the truth.”

      He knew. She could see it on his face that he’d already figured it out for himself. Or at least suspected. She had the feeling that her saying the words was a formality at this point.

      Maybe this was a good thing. The longer she put it off, the harder it was going to be, right? The more it would sound like a lie. And he didn’t look upset, exactly. More concerned than angry, so maybe it would be okay.

      She took a deep breath, blew it out, and finally said the words she had been holding on the tip of her tongue for more than a week. “I’m pregnant.”

       “Pregnant?”

      She could not have prepared herself for the look of dumbfounded shock on his face. Whatever he might have thought was wrong with her, pregnancy had clearly never crossed his mind. And if his reaction was any indication, everything would not be okay.

      “You didn’t think to mention this before?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, but she could see that he was ready to explode. And could she blame him? He’d said it himself, he didn’t want to bring a child into this. Had she really thought a week of fantastic sex was going to make him change his mind? Make him fall madly in love with her?

      She felt as if she might be sick again.

      “I only found out for sure a few days before we left,” she said, knowing it was a pathetic excuse. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”