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  The images of their nights spent together caused a small shiver of pleasure to sweep over Charlie’s body. Her sexual desire had become quite intense during the last trimester of her pregnancy, and she tried to put a lid on the erotic thoughts that often plagued her. It was hard, though. Grant presented as the most conservative of men, but he was more than liberal with his ability to make her body hum with pleasure.

  “Are you cold, sweets? I can put the heat on,” Thomas asked, using one of his terms of endearment for her.

  “No, I’m fine,” Charlie replied with a soft tone.

  Liar.

  Charlie closed her eyes and willed the tears forming in her eyes to evaporate. She was fine, dammit. The sudden sharp kick of her baby’s tiny feet let her know she wasn’t fooling everyone. She gently patted her stomach in hopes it would calm the rambunctious movement of her little bit of joy. Charlie needed to be fine, because if she wasn’t… Well, if she wasn’t, what else could she be?

  Chapter Two

  “Can you look at these figures for me? I want to make sure they check out before we meet with the client.”

  Grant Carter was stirred from his reverie by the voice of a junior accountant. It took him a while to register what the young man was saying because he was so completely shocked by the information in front of him.

  “Um, yeah, sure.”

  Taking the paperwork the young man was offering, Grant tried to focus on the figures. This was going to be a very important deal for his family’s company, particularly with how badly the financial market was in the US currently, but his brain kept going back to the information sitting on his desk.

  “It seems to check out to me, but you should probably have Brent give it a quick look.”

  Grant momentarily felt bad about passing the work on to another colleague, but he knew his brain wasn’t where it was supposed to be. If he had to admit it to himself, it hadn’t been where it was supposed to be since he came back from his business trip in Italy. His father had sent him there to establish a business relationship with an influential financial brokerage and cement the company’s international holdings. Grant of course had completed the task set out for him, but had also met the most irritating and captivating woman.

  When he first spotted Charlie Ambrose walking into the hotel bar at the Rome hotel where he was staying, he felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of him. With thick, wavy black hair falling around her shoulders and a coppery bronze complexion that practically glowed in the dim light of the bar, she had mesmerized Grant.

  He watched her with a purely male appreciation as she glided toward the bar with the grace of a dancer. The thought of approaching her sprang to his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He had completed his business earlier, then had decided to stay a couple of more weeks to get a little R & R. Grant rarely had time to himself, and trying to woo a woman wasn't initially in his itinerary. The thought of her helping him relax flittered through his brain as he watched her laugh with the bartender. The unconscious way she threw back her head, and the infectious quality of the throaty sound that sprang from her mouth, had him quickly changing his mind.

  From his position at a table set a bit in shadow, Grant was able to look her over in more detail. She was dressed in a simple, flower-print summer dress that wasn’t overtly provocative, not compared to some of the dresses other women were wearing, but there was something extremely sexy about its simplicity. There was a carefree nature to her that drew him in.

  He didn’t realize he was staring until she turned as if drawn by his gaze and gave him a quizzical glance. She had one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in a questioning manner, and Grant couldn’t mistake the quirk of a smile on her lips. He was struck by the emerald color of her eyes even from across the room. It was such a striking contrast to the bronze color of her skin, he couldn’t make himself look away. There was a lazy, feline quality to the shape of her eyes, and when the small smile that played at the corners of her lips blossomed into an open grin, he felt his body tighten with need. He was up and across the room before conscious thought could prevent him from discovering if she purred just like a cat when petted properly.

  He hadn’t been disappointed as he got closer and took in the full effect of her beauty. He felt as if electrical currents were dancing across his skin as her catlike eyes perused him from head to toe. Grant had always loved a challenge and had met her gaze with one that contained his own brand of heat and need. She didn’t quail under the force of his personality, which intrigued and frustrated him in equal parts, and instead engaged him in a combative, flirtatious banter that had him wanting to strip away the breezy dress she wore and see every slope and angle of her glorious body.

  He’d never had an affair so intense. Charlie not only knew what she wanted, but also what he’d never known he could desire. They barely left his bed, untangling from each other only for basic sustenance and fresh air. The days passed in a blur until he was faced with the end of his holiday and his time with Charlie.

  “Are you going to stay in Italy much longer?” he’d asked while they lay in bed his last night in the country.

  “Yep. I don’t have to be back for another two weeks,” Charlie replied, as she nibbled at his earlobe.

  He’d wanted to ask her more, possibly draw out some commitment to see each other once they got back to the States, but she silenced any comments he would have made with one of her scorching kisses. All thoughts of discussing a continuation of their relationship back home quickly faded as his body hardened and throbbed with need. That night as their bodies melded, sparking a flame of desire that burned as it soothed, he fell asleep with her in his arms and thought that he wasn’t ready to give her up just yet.

  Unfortunately, when the morning came there was no conversation because there was no Charlie. Instead there was a brief note saying how much she’d enjoyed their time together and that she wasn’t good with goodbyes. It was the closing line of the note that burned him the most.

  You were the best. C.

  Grant Carter wasn’t used to being dismissed, especially when it came to affairs with women. He was the one who set the pace and determined when the fun was over. Not that he was ever cruel to the women in his life, but they knew who was in charge and what they’d signed up for. The idea Charlie would determine the terms in which their time together ended was both foreign and aggravating to him. He crumpled the note and threw it in the trash.

  While he packed, still silently seething about her dismissal, he could only laugh bitterly at the bruising his pride had taken. It was pride, he kept telling himself, that wouldn’t let her go. It was pride that caused his stomach to churn every time he thought about her dismissive note. Pride was the motivator, he assured himself, that had him seeking her out months after she’d found it too hard to say goodbye.

  Grant needed to have the final word, the final action that gave him closure from the need that still kept him awake at night, wanting one more taste of her. Seeking out a private investigator to locate her hadn’t seemed obsessive; he was a man who was always in control, and the residual feelings Charlie left behind needed to be expunged so he could have that control back. He’d planned to connect with her, invite her to dinner, have her body splayed out for him and his pleasure, and promptly send her on her way.

  As he looked at the dossier the investigator had compiled for him, the shock began to subside and was replaced with white-hot rage. He'd been busy with work-related tasks all day and hadn't had a chance to review the information the investigator dropped off earlier that morning. Rifling through the papers in front of him, he absently ran a hand through his hair. Grant was having trouble with the information the investigator had turned up. When the older man had handed him the file so quickly after Grant retained him for his services, he was a bit surprised. It seemed Charlie wasn’t that difficult to locate. The little information they had shared about their lives at home had been enough to track her down. Of course, when the investigator stated
that there were some interesting developments about her situation, Grant had thought the man meant a boyfriend or husband. He hadn’t thought of her as the type to cheat, but in all honesty he didn’t really know her beyond the lovely sounds she made when she came. He did hope if he found she had a new lover in her life, the relationship would be fresh enough his interference wouldn’t be rebuffed. Grant was thought of as a corporate shark, and when it came to Charlie, he wasn’t above using the tactics he’d honed in the boardroom.

  He squelched the desire to hurl the folder of papers across the room. He’d never expected her to be pregnant, and from the pictures the investigator had included, she was very pregnant. The data he was able to obtain stated that she was due in the next few weeks. Grant had always been a wiz when it came to calculating figures and analyzing numbers, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out he could be the father of the baby. The investigator couldn’t determine who the father was, and they’d used protection every time they’d had sex, but aside from the shock of possible fatherhood, he had to admit her not contacting him was eating him up inside. He’d thought better of her, even if their relationship had only been sexual, and not telling a man he could possibly be a father seemed so out of character.

  Grant was so focused on the woman who was possibly carrying his child he didn’t even hear his father enter his office and softly close the door. When Grant finally noticed Robert Carter standing at the front of his desk, he couldn’t hide the stricken look on his face.

  Sucking in a breath, his father asked, “How bad is it? Did we lose the Daniels account?”

  Grant was actually confused until he realized his father had connected his behavior with business matters.

  “Grant, son, you’re scaring me. You have been holed up in this office for hours not taking calls. If there is a problem, I need to know so we can strategize how to tell the board.”

  As the CEO of a thriving financial investment firm, Robert Carter had made sure his family’s company survived through swift action. Grant couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest. As CFO, Grant had the same tenacious drive for business that every Carter man had for generations. Friends and family often joked both men were cut from the same cloth. He’d not only inherited his father’s business sensibilities, but also his looks. Grant had always found it a great compliment to be compared to a man he respected both personally and professionally. As he looked into a face so like his own, if weathered from time, he felt a huge weight of disappointment settle on his shoulders. Carter men did not “knock” women up. They were pillars in their community and leaders in the business world. The thought of telling his father of his possible failure filled him with dread.

  “Dad, could you sit down, please? Before you worry any further, my mood hasn’t been affected by anything to do with the business. In fact, we are very firmly in the black right now.” Pausing to collect his thoughts, Grant continued. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something personal.”

  Grant took a deep breath as he gathered the information about Charlie into a neat pile. He was finding it hard to look at his father, particularly because he could feel the tension of worry radiating from the older man. He realized he couldn’t prolong the inevitable, and slid the file over the desk and watched as his father picked it up hesitantly as he sat.

  “There seems to be a little problem and…”

  Grant was annoyed by the hitch in his voice. His father was never an ogre. He’d encouraged Grant to be the best and the brightest and, at the end of the day, Grant didn’t think his father would love him less. If he was honest, it was his father’s respect he was concerned would be damaged. Robert Carter was a powerhouse who didn’t suffer fools lightly, and the thought of being put on the list of people his father couldn’t respect filled him with dread.

  “What is this?” Robert asked with a controlled tone that hid the worried emotions playing across his face.

  “It could be a problem,” Grant replied with a heavy sigh.

  He hated this feeling, not knowing what to do. Carter men always knew what to do. They saw something that needed to be done and they did it. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, and definitely not a viselike grip of uncertainty making it hard to breathe. The uncertainty was what had him running his hands through his hair furiously as he watched his father continue to read through the information Grant had gathered on Charlie. He felt so emotionally drained having to admit that he might have failed to live up to all the expectations placed on him by previous generations.

  Robert Carter looked up and stared at his son with an expression Grant was familiar with. He could see the proverbial wheels turning in his father’s head as he formulated a plan.

  “If she hasn’t contacted you, how do you know you are the father? Don’t let desire cloud your judgment. She hasn’t sought you out, nor has she identified a father.”

  Grant pushed down the wave of anger that rose with his father’s words. He’d thought the exact same things earlier, but when he heard them spoken aloud, with a hint of accusation from his father, he was seized with a desire to deny the baby could be another’s.

  He paused before replying because the realization he wanted the baby to be his was so new and fragile, Grant didn’t know how to process it. He didn’t love Charlie—it would be too unrealistic to attribute that particular emotion to the way he felt about her—but now, as he pictured her laughing and gently cradling the life growing inside her, he needed to know he was the one to have given her the gift she’d decided to keep. Shocked, he’d been so caught up in his feelings of betrayal and bruised pride, he hadn’t processed that she’d decided to keep the baby. His wild, feline temptress who seemed as if she’d never be tethered to anyone was going to be a mother.

  “I need to know if I’m the father,” Grant stated in an icy tone.

  Charlie had never indicated she was maternal in the least. She’d been free spirited and lovely. Wrapped up in the tight embrace of his arms, she was more than he could have ever expected from a woman he invited to his bed. Their conversations had never gone too deep, but he’d discerned that she was both witty and intelligent, with a bent toward the liberal. Too liberal, it seemed, if her not contacting him was any indication, which meant her keeping the child was a choice. Not just a little one, but a huge one, and he needed to know if he was the father, because he wanted to be a part of the choice.

  Sighing wearily, his father pushed himself from his chair and put the information about Charlie on Grant’s desk. He gazed briefly into the distance then back at his son. When he spoke, his tone didn’t have the hard edge of before.

  “Well, then, we will have to contact our attorneys. There will have to be a paternity test.”

  Grant nodded in agreement.

  “If this is indeed your child, we will have to arrange financial and custody arrangements with this young woman. For now, I feel it is best if this is kept between us. If it is determined you are the father, we will inform your mother at that time. I’ll clear my calendar for the rest of the week and make arrangements for us to meet with this woman as soon as possible.”

  “Charlie, her name is Charlie,” Grant said, meeting his father’s gaze.

  He needed to have her named and not be just “that woman.” His father was only doing what he did best —handling a potential crisis—but it didn’t seem right to look at Charlie and her baby as a problem that needed to be solved.

  “Make the arrangements, Grant,” his father replied coolly.

  Grant rested his head in his hands once his father left. This tension between him and his father was something he’d have to deal with. They’d disagreed over the years, but the feeling he had after his father’s cool reply was new and entirely too uncomfortable. Opening the file he’d had compiled on Charlie, he looked at a picture of her the investigator had taken. Her belly protruded slightly through the gauzy material of her loose-fitted top, as she looked through the racks at a boutique for babies and chil
dren. The lighting was off, but he could imagine the glossy texture of her curly hair and the tantalizing sheen of her coppery bronze skin. He couldn’t deny the tug of attraction that drew him to her. It was still there, held at bay by his anger at her silence, but waiting patiently to reemerge to the forefront of his mind.

  Grant was caught between wanting the baby to be his and hoping to be set free from the responsibility of being a father. He wanted Charlie to carry his baby purely from a primal aspect of his personality he hadn’t even known he possessed. He’d gone to the right schools and known all the right people, and in that world, wanting to beat his chest and drag her back to his lair because she carried his child was beyond out of character. It was base and low and common and any other adjective his family would use to describe people who were ruled by their emotions and not logic. He should be strategizing, figuring out an angle to absolve him of this inconvenient predicament. Grant knew that would be the right thing to do, the Carter thing to do, but as he traced his finger across the gentle swell of Charlie’s belly where the photo had captured it, all he could think was one word.

  Mine.

  Chapter Three

  “Well, do you want me to respond as your attorney or as your friend?”

  “Shit, is it that bad?” Charlie looked at one of her oldest friends, Mary, and chewed at her bottom lip.

  “Well, that depends on how you slice it. Damn, Charlie, when you decide to do something you have to make sure you do it big. Do you know who the Carters are? This is some serious old money we are dealing with,” Charlie’s best friend Mary said with a look of concern.

  Charlie rubbed her stomach absently. As soon as she got the letter from Grant’s attorneys, she ran to Mary. Mary Fitzpatrick was not only her best friend but also an accomplished lawyer. Working for Public Counsel, Mary believed everyone deserved good legal representation whether they had the money or not.