Pregnant By The Ceo. Kate Carlisle

Spanish.

      He’d thought he had some self-control. He’d done everything to try to forget his night with Louisa Grey, and the fact that it had been the single most amazing sexual experience of his life. Which with all his experience, was incredible.

      Perhaps that was why he’d been unable to forget. Uninterested in other women. Unable to think of anything else.

      He still didn’t know why she’d been crying that night in Paris. He’d been shocked when he’d returned from another dull date to find Louisa overcome with emotion. Louisa, who never showed her feelings. He hadn’t known how to deal with it, so he’d taken her in his arms. And then he’d done what he’d longed to do for months. He’d kissed her. He’d done more than kiss her. He’d made passionate, reckless love to her—and discovered to his shock that his beautiful, self-contained housekeeper was, at twenty-eight, still a virgin.

      Even now, when by all rights he should have been well satisfied, his body tightened at the memory of making love to her in Paris. Of making love to her last night. He felt the heat off her skin as she lay sleeping beside him, naked in his bed, and he wanted her anew.

      He looked at her in the morning light. She looked so beautiful. So impossibly young. So lush and desirable.

      He’d tried to rid himself of his inconvenient desire for her. He’d allowed her to transfer to his Istanbul house, though he did not want her to leave. He’d busied himself with work in Paris. He’d tried to move on with another woman, specifically Dominique Lepetit, though the truth was that the amoral actress was no longer of any interest to him.

      Louisa, however…

      With a low groan, he rolled over in bed and sat up, holding his head in his hands. He could still not quite believe he’d slept with her without a condom again, something he’d never done with any other woman. Oh, other women had told him they were on the Pill, but he’d never trusted them completely. In the past, he’d either been well-prepared with condoms, or he’d walked away from the situation. Simple as that. He never wanted to have a wife or child or be pinned down in any way. He took freedom even more seriously than he took pleasure.

      Rafael glanced back over his shoulder at Louisa, who was still sleeping peacefully, like a child. He immediately felt comforted. Louisa Grey would never lie. If she’d said she was on the Pill, then she was.

      He trusted her. In fact, she was the only woman he trusted. She’d been a virgin the first time he’d taken her, for God’s sake. That had been an amazing discovery during an incredible night. And last night had been even better…

      He had the sudden memory of her naked body beneath his, the way she’d felt when he’d pushed inside her. The image of her ecstatic face as he’d possessed her as their sweaty bodies pressed together urgently in the heat of the night.

      He’d thought the first time he’d taken her, in Paris, had been the best night he’d ever had with any woman. But last night had been even better. Something about the feel of her skin—or the smell of her hair. Perhaps it was the way she moved, the combination of sensuality mixed with innocence. Or her elusiveness. She always held something of herself back. Always.

       Except in his bed.

      Whatever the cause, some chemical reaction took hold of his brain whenever he was near her. He, who’d slept with so many women, who had his choice of heiresses and princesses and models, could not stop wanting his housekeeper. Louisa was like a drug to him.

      Because she was forbidden?

      His smile fell. And he cursed himself anew.

      Rising to his feet, he put on a robe and left the well-kept bedroom. He went out to the veranda. He looked down at the garden and the Bosphorus beyond. In a short time, she’d turned this neglected mansion into an exquisite home.

      His hands gripped the wrought-iron balcony railing. And now, because of his lust, he would lose her—his most prized employee!

      He glanced back at the beautiful woman sleeping in his bed. He had to find a way to return to a simple relationship of boss and employee. But he wasn’t sure he could.

      From the moment he’d first interviewed her in Paris for the head housekeeper position, he’d been intrigued by her—this pretty young woman who went to some lengths to appear plain, wearing black cat’s-eye glasses and oversize, unflattering clothes, pulling her chestnut hair back into a tight bun from which no tendril could hope to escape. She’d left her first position in the household of a financier in Miami, at a very good rate of pay, because apparently she wished to see Europe.

      “You will be allowed no vacations,” he’d told her at that first interview. “I need a house manager who will have no other desires other than to smoothly and perfectly run my home.”

      He’d waited for Miss Louisa Grey, a modern young woman, to tell him he was out of his mind with such expectations and to leave his office; instead, she’d just looked up at him with her cool brown eyes.

      “Of course.”

      “I don’t think you understand,” he’d said evenly. “You won’t be able to leave. Not for vacations. Not for Christmas. And do not think I will eventually transfer you to New York. I like stability in my home life. If you start in Paris you will stay here.”

      “Fine,” she’d repeated, frowning up at him with her brow furrowed.

      “Fine?” he barked.

      “I do not need to go back home.”

      He’d lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “Never?”

      “Correct. For…for reasons of my own which I do not care to explain.” She lifted her chin. “I will do excellent work for you, Mr. Cruz.”

      And she had.

      Efficient, dedicated Miss Grey had never taken a day off. Never asked for a vacation. Never complained. She’d never asked for a transfer.

      Until he’d seduced her.

      For the first few years she’d been his housekeeper, she’d acted as if she could barely distinguish Rafael from an intemperate child to be tolerated and tended. Gradually he’d taken it as a challenge. He’d coaxed her out of her shell in the evenings, as he’d eaten a late supper in the kitchen. He’d gradually lured Louisa’s warm heart out from beneath her dignified reserve. It had been an amusement. Even—a friendship.

       Until he’d seduced her.

      He cursed himself again under his breath.

      She wasn’t just his valued housekeeper, she was the extremely competent manager who coordinated between all his homes in New York, St. Barts, Buenos Aires, Istanbul and Tokyo.

      And this would be the end of it. Qué fastidio! Now that he’d slept with her twice, it would end badly—as it always did. She would cease to be sensible, useful Miss Grey and become a woman without a shred of reason in her head. She’d be clingy to her fingertips.

      Or would she?

      Louisa Grey, clingy? The thought was almost laughable. She was so different from all other women. Was it possible, then, that their affair could be different as well?

      He still wanted her. Was it possible she could be that legendary creature—a reasonable woman—and they could continue their affair until he was satisfied? Could they enjoy the passion of a love affair—then simply return to their regular lives that were already so convenient and perfect, as employer and employee?

      He ached for her as he did for no other woman. A few days and he’d certainly be done with her. That’s how all of his affairs ended. If he could just enjoy her in his bed for just a few more days…

      “Good morning,” he heard her say behind him.

      He turned to face her and sucked in his breath.

      Louisa stood on the veranda wearing his white oversize robe. The pink sunrise dawning