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

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      “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 enough to know that.” Then he noticed that Jonathon leaned over his laptop as he spoke, typing rapidly. Ford just rolled his eyes. “You’re looking her up on Google, aren’t you?” In answer, Jonathon just shrugged. “After all the information about her that Wendy dug up, you think you’re going to find something on the Internet that we didn’t already know?”

      Jonathon shrugged. “It never hurts.”

      Annoyed, Ford continued speaking. “I know her well enough to know she’s not going to back out of a business deal for personal reasons.”

      Jonathon tapped his fingers across the mouse pad while he waited for the slow hotel wireless connection to load the results page. “I hope you’re right. Kitty owns nearly sixty percent of the company. If we don’t have her on board, the deal will never go through, regardless of whether or not we can convince anyone else.”

      “I know that.” His tone was a little sharper than he’d intended.

      Jonathon raised his hands in a gesture of defense. “Just reminding you.” He clicked on a page, then sat back, waiting for it to load. “If she backs out now, we’ve wasted a decent chunk of change. And I don’t like wasting time, either.”

      “She’s not going to back out. Selling Biedermann’s to us is going to make her a lot of money. That’s all the incentive she needs. She’s been rich all her life and we’re going to make her richer. There’s nothing else we need to know.”

      But by then Jonathon had leaned forward to read whatever Pandora’s box Google had pulled up. He let out a low whistle.

      “What?” Ford demanded.

      “You might want to read what Suzy Snark has to say before you say anything else that’ll get you in trouble.”

      Tension seized Ford’s stomach. “Who?”

      “Suzy Snark. She’s a gossip blogger here in New York. Talks about Kitty every once in a while.” He looked up at Ford. “You didn’t really read that report from Wendy, did you? Suzy Snark was mentioned multiple times.”

      The tension that had started in his gut seeped through the rest of his body, leaving him frozen on the spot. He should just cross the room and take the damn laptop from Jonathan, but no matter what orders his brain issued, his feet weren’t following them.

      Finally he said, “Stop being so damn cryptic and just tell me what the damn thing says.”

      “Trust me, you’re going to want to read this yourself.”

      He took the laptop from Jonathan and sat back down on the sofa, only vaguely aware of Jonathan walking away to give him privacy. As he read, his tension coalesced into cold, hard anger.

      A few minutes later, Jonathan returned, holding out a shot of Scotch from the hotel’s courtesy bar. Ford carefully set the laptop on the coffee table before accepting the drink. He took several long drinks, then realized his knuckles were turning white from gripping the glass too tightly.

      Finally he stood and headed for the door with grim determination, almost too angry to speak.

      “Where are you going?” Jonathan asked.

      “To find Kitty.”

      Six

      By the time Monday morning rolled around, Kitty felt marginally more prepared to face Ford. After he left her apartment Saturday morning, she’d decided she simply couldn’t face him again so soon. So she’d abandoned the familiarity of her apartment for a hotel not far from Biedermann’s offices. She’d spent the weekend with her phone turned off, huddled under the blanket watching an I Love Lucy marathon and ordering room service. She’d bawled when Little Ricky was born and then found herself unable to stop crying. Poor Lucy always tried to do the right thing, but always made a mess of things. Sometimes her own life felt like an episode of I Love Lucy, but without the laugh track or the comforting presence of Ethel Mertz.

      Maybe this mess would seem more bearable if her own pratfalls could be cushioned by the unconditional love of her own Ricky Ricardo. Maybe if Ford …

      No, she stopped herself. She couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t hers. He never had been and he certainly wouldn’t be now that she was keeping this secret from him.

      Maybe, СКАЧАТЬ