More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Even his voice had a deep and slightly rough sexual fantasy quality. Not that she ever fantasized about clients. That would be totally unprofessional.

      And too much like her mother.

      She walked around the corner of her desk and extended her arm. “Yes. How can I help you, Mr. Patrick?”

      His handshake was warm and firm and electrified.

      Giving up caffeine must be having unforeseen side effects on her system. Why else would she experience a faux espresso buzz on contact? She broke the connection as quickly as courtesy allowed.

      His intense gaze shifted to Lea and conveyed something that made the redhead snap to attention. “I’ll just…go now.”

      Surprised, Nicole watched her usually unflappable assistant hustle out the door and close it behind her.

      Nicole reappraised the man in front of her. Besides tall, dark and gorgeous, he had some kind of magical talent. She’d have to figure out what trick he’d used to make Lea leave without saying a word.

      Lea wasn’t only an employee. She was also a friend and sometimes the line between friend and supervisor blurred—like when Lea had voiced her vehement disapproval of Nicole’s decision to become a surrogate for her sister and brother-in-law. But that was because Lea knew how Nicole felt about her sister’s husband. They’d been college roommates when Nicole had fallen head over heels in love with Patrick. And Lea had been there to help pick up the pieces after Patrick had eloped with Nicole’s sister Beth.

      Lea was convinced that the entire “baby debacle,” as she referred to it, was going to blow up in Nicole’s face now that she was pregnant.

      “Please sit down, Mr. Patrick, and tell me what I can do for you today.”

      Nicole felt his gaze on her the entire way around her desk as she returned to her seat. Pregnancy had made her breasts larger. She hoped it hadn’t done the same to her behind. Not that she cared what he thought of her butt.

      After she sank into her seat he lowered himself into the chair across from her desk. The old-fashioned courtesy surprised her. Fewer and fewer men practiced it these days—especially among the megarich she dealt with through work.

      “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

      His words stunned her. She hadn’t told anyone except Beth, Patrick and Lea. The parents-to-be had the right to know, and Lea had caught Nicole heaving a couple of times and guessed. The rest of their friends and family would find out Saturday when Beth and Patrick made the official announcement at the family’s Labor Day picnic. Nicole suspected most people who knew her would be a little freaked out by her decision.

      “Thank you. What brings you to Hightower Aviation today?”

      “You’re carrying my child.”

      His statement knocked her back in her chair. She must have misheard.

      “Excuse me?” The words sounded more like a wheeze, but that was because she couldn’t seem to make her lungs work.

      “The fertility clinic made a mistake and inseminated you with my sperm instead of your intended donor’s.”

      Head reeling, she grasped the edge of her desk. “That’s not possible.”

      Her visitor reached into his suit coat, extracted an envelope and extended it toward her. When she didn’t—couldn’t—take it from him he tossed it on her blotter. It slid across the smooth surface and stopped within easy reach. She eyed it like she would a big, hairy, jumping spider.

      “The clinic director has written a letter explaining the situation. In summation, my name is Ryan Patrick. Your intended donor’s name is Patrick Ryan. The lot numbers weren’t checked and you were given the wrong sperm because some moron neglected to notice a comma.”

      Horror raced through her, making her heart pound and her extremities tingle. “No. You’re wrong.”

      He had to be.

      “Read it.”

      She stared at the envelope. Afraid to open it. Afraid not to. But she couldn’t prove him wrong if she didn’t open the thing. Her hands shook as she reached for it.

      The tearing of the seal and the rustle of paper as she unfolded the page sounded unnaturally loud even above the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The letter bore the Lakeview logo at the top and the director’s signature on the bottom. She forced herself to read through the document.

      Words jumped out at her. Unfortunate error…Donor mix-up…Apologize profusely… The alarm in her chest and her brain expanded with each line, making it difficult to breathe and think. She read the letter a second time, but the bad news didn’t get any better, and she hadn’t misinterpreted.

      Unless this letter was a hideously tasteless joke, she was carrying Ryan Patrick’s baby. Not Patrick Ryan’s, the man she had loved since her junior year of college. The man who’d married her sister.

       Please, God, let this be a joke.

      “This is not funny.”

      Her visitor didn’t crack a smile. “Medical malpractice usually isn’t.”

      She had hoped her sister had developed a sudden sick sense of humor. His stoic expression said otherwise. Pressing a hand over her churning stomach, she dropped the page. “There must be some mistake.”

      “Yes. Lakeview Fertility Clinic made it. You’re carrying my child as a result.”

      “That can’t be right.”

      “I wish that were true.”

      She stared at the letter while her overloaded mind struggled to process the information and the possible repercussions. For herself. For Beth and Patrick. For the man in front of her. But it was too much to take in.

      What now? What if the baby really wasn’t Patrick’s?

      She struggled to find her professional demeanor, and the best way to do that was to focus on his problem instead of hers. “I’m sorry. This must be very difficult for you and your wife.”

      “There is no wife.”

      “Girlfriend, then.”

      “No girlfriend, either.”

      That confused her completely. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

      “I’ll be a single parent.”

      “That’s not unusual for a woman, but isn’t it a little out of the norm for a man? Couldn’t you just get married?”

      “I’ve been married, and I don’t ever intend to do so again.”

      There had to be a story behind that bitter tone. But she didn’t care to hear it at the moment. She had enough of a mess on her hands. If his story was true. She sincerely hoped he was deranged. A psycho in her office would be much easier to handle than the situation described СКАЧАТЬ