Affair with the Rebel Heiress / The Magnate's Pregnancy Proposal. Emily McKay

in place before she dealt with him.

      How long could she justify not telling him? A couple of days maybe. But she had to tell him and she had to do it soon.

      The very thought made bile rise in her throat. She dashed for the bathroom, only to have her nausea fade, leaving her feeling queasy. The minty zing of her toothpaste helped. When she put away the toothpaste, she saw the two pregnancy tests she’d taken the previous evening.

      She’d stopped to pick them up at a drugstore on the way home from the fundraiser. Her heart had pounded the whole time, sure she’d see someone she recognized. Or that at the very least someone would comment on the absurdity of a woman in formal wear buying pregnancy tests late at night. She hadn’t cared. She’d needed to know.

      She had still been reeling from the shock when Ford had shown up on her doorstep. He’d caught her at her most vulnerable. Again.

      But it wouldn’t happen a third time. From now on, she’d be prepared to deal with him. But first, she had to deal with other issues. She pressed a hand to her belly.

      Logically, she should still be freaking out about being pregnant. But for some strange reason, she wasn’t. Maybe some weird pregnancy hormone had been working its magic on her subconscious for the past two months. Whatever the reason, she felt strangely at peace.

      Why did being pregnant have to be such a bad thing? All her life she’d dreamed of being part of a bigger family. She’d longed for sisters and brothers. How many times had she made her grandmother read Little Women to her? Dozens.

      The only thing she’d wanted more than siblings was a real mother. Her grandmother had done her best. She’d loved her and cared for her, sure. But she hadn’t done the things other mothers had done—or rather the things Kitty had imagined other mothers did. She’d never climbed onto the jungle gym at the park. She’d never built forts out of old sheets draped over the furniture. She’d never crawled into Kitty’s bed to cuddle her and chase away the monsters.

      Those were things Kitty’s childhood had lacked. But they were experiences she could give to her child. She could lavish this child with love. She could become the kind of mother she’d always wanted for herself. She could create the family she’d craved for so long.

      What about Ford? What kind of father would he be? She bet he’d be the kind of dad who coached Little League and charmed all the teachers into rounding up his kids’ grades. He’d spend too much on birthday presents, and …

      Whoa. Where had all that come from? Wondering what kind of father Ford would make was the last thing she should be worrying about. It was a completely absurd exercise. Like wondering whether or not the tooth fairy was ticklish. Ford was Mr. Not-Willing-to-Be-Whipped.

      There was no way he’d be interested in coaching Little League. This morning, he’d given her the perfect opportunity to tell him about the baby, but she’d balked. She hadn’t exactly lied, but she hadn’t told him the truth, either. And she suspected it had less to do with her mental defenses than it did with the possibility that she already knew how he’d react.

      Ford wasn’t looking for long term. Not with her. Not with a child. When he found out the truth, he would cut and run.

      At least, dear God, she hoped he would. She could only pray he wouldn’t do something noble like offer to marry her.

      She’d been a burden all her life. For once in her life, she wanted to pull her own weight.

      Yes, being pregnant now was inconvenient, what with everything that was going on at Biedermann’s. But it didn’t have to be a bad thing. Not at all. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. She could be a good mother. She could do this. This was one dream that would not be snatched away from her.

      True, she’d probably never be able to run Biedermann’s the way she’d dreamed of. But being a failure as a CEO didn’t mean she’d also be a failure as a mother. After all, her father had been a fantastic CEO, but a less than stellar parent. That was proof enough, if she needed it, that the two jobs didn’t require the same skills. It came down to this: she’d have to be a good parent, because she was likely to be the only parent her child ever knew.

      Whenever he and Jonathon traveled together, they got a hotel suite. The combined living space always made it easier to have teleconferences with Matt and to work late in the evenings. It was an arrangement that had worked well. And Jonathon certainly didn’t care that Ford was returning to the hotel, having obviously been out all night. And had he slept with any other woman, Ford would have kept his mouth shut.

      But Kitty was not any other woman. This morning she’d seemed fine. But the truth was, he had no idea what she was really feeling. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he’d screwed things up. And if he had blown this deal because he couldn’t stop thinking with a certain male part, then Jonathon deserved to know the truth.

      “I made a mistake,” he admitted as soon as he walked into the hotel suite.

      Jonathan didn’t even bother looking up from his laptop. A fruit plate and a bowl of oatmeal sat untouched beside his computer. “That’s never a good announcement at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But you’re a big boy. I’m sure you can handle it.”

      “I slept with Kitty.”

      Jonathon’s head snapped up. “Kitty Biedermann?”

      “It was stupid, I know,” he admitted.

      A pot of coffee and a couple of cups sat untouched on the room service tray, so he poured himself a cup. He looked up to see Jonathon with a bemused half smile on his face.

      “We just got here. That’s fast, even for you.” When Ford didn’t answer, Jonathon’s smile morphed into a contemplative squint. “That’s not it, is it? You knew her already.”

      “I did. We met in Texas about two months ago.” He took a sip of the coffee, relishing the heat as it burned its way down his throat. A stiff drink was what he really wanted for a conversation like this. Scalding hot coffee wasn’t a bad second, though.

      Jonathon studied him for a long moment, absently popping a grape in his mouth as he did. “You were the one who wanted to buy out Biedermann’s.”

      Ford shook his head. “Biedermann’s was on your list.”

      Jonathan stabbed a bite of cantaloupe. “Technically, that was the NYSE’s list. I just referenced it when I was looking for another company to buy. There were seven or eight other companies on that list. You were the one who did all that research on Biedermann’s.” Jonathon paused, chewing slowly as he watched Ford. “Unless you weren’t researching the company at all. You were researching her, weren’t you?”

      “Look. I made a mistake. It wouldn’t be the first.” Ford took another drink of his coffee, wishing again it was something stronger. “I asked Wendy to find out what she could about Kitty Biedermann. She was overly enthusiastic. I didn’t even know Biedermann’s was on the list until you’d done most of the work.”

      “You should have said something then.”

      “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Neither of us was looking for a long-term relationship. I knew what happened in Texas was just a one-night stand and it would never happen again.”

      Jonathon quirked an eyebrow. “Which explains perfectly why you just slept with her a second time.”

      “It’s not a big deal.”

      “So you keep saying. Are we going to have a problem with the acquisition?”

      Ford thought back to Kitty’s attitude. Last night she’d been passionate and demanding. This morning she’d been coolly reserved. “I don’t think so,” he said honestly. “She’s devoted to Biedermann’s. She’ll do the right thing for the company. As for me, she’s not emotionally involved. She’s just not the boil-a-bunny type.”

      “How well do you know her?” Jonathon asked.

      “Well