The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
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knew he was desperate when he started tossing around legal threats.
“I’ve done my homework. I’ve got the numbers of half a dozen high profile bleeding heart attorneys who would just love to handle a case like mine pro bono.”
She could swear she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Would you really want to put yourself through that? Agree to my terms and I’ll grant you full custody and adequate financial assistance to have you living in luxury for the rest of your life.”
She took a deep, calming breath. “Apparently you’re not hearing what I’m saying. I don’t want to live in luxury. I want a little help. Got it?”
He stared up at her, a vague smile curling his lips.
She propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I fail to see what it is about this situation you find amusing.”
He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at her. “I was just thinking about that night in the resort.”
Oh great, now did he think sex would be a part of the deal? “What about it?”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
Now he liked her? That didn’t make any sense.
“You are the most stubborn, self-centered, confusing person I have ever met,” she said, and his grin widened. She never imagined a man so dark and sexy could look so…cute.
Cute? What was she thinking? He wasn’t cute. He was a big pain in the neck.
She flung her hands up. “Fine, don’t help me. Because frankly, it isn’t worth the trouble. The baby and I will manage without you.”
She turned to leave and was halfway to the door when she heard him call, “Tess, wait.”
No way. She was through arguing about this. She and the baby would make it without him. She wasn’t sure how, but she would manage.
She made it to the door and had her hand on the knob when she heard him say, “Please, stay.”
She reluctantly turned back to him.
“I know there has to be a way we can make this work.”
“Unless you’re willing to compromise, I don’t see how.”
“I am.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Please, sit.”
Because he said please, she crossed the room and took a seat.
“Tell me what works for you, then we’ll figure something out.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“First I have to ask, why the change of heart? Why are you willing to compromise now, when fifteen minutes ago you were being an ogre?”
He wasn’t insulted by the observation, in fact, he smiled. “Fifteen minutes ago I thought I knew who you were.”
“And now?”
“Now I realize I was wrong.”
Tess prayed silently the way she did every morning as her old junker chugged its way up the mountain to the staff parking lot behind the resort. It had stalled twice on the way here. Once she’d flooded the engine and had to wait several minutes, holding up traffic, before it would turn over again.
Her carburetor was terminally ill, but it would be at least three or four months before she had the money saved to replace it. And that was if she did the work herself—which she was pretty sure she could manage given the time to figure it out. She’d blown her entire savings plus a week’s groceries on a gas pump last month. The co-pay for her monthly doctor visits and prenatal vitamins was eating up the rest of her extra cash.
The downside to residing in a resort town was the astronomical cost of living. If she skipped grocery shopping again on Sunday, that would shave a week off her expenses, but the doctor had already expressed concern that she wasn’t gaining enough weight, and a healthy diet was critical for a healthy pregnancy.
She’d spent the last few days thinking about Ben’s offer. As far as she could tell, when she’d threatened to leave, he finally realized she was telling the truth. That the pregnancy was an accident and she wasn’t after his money. Though for the life of her, she still didn’t understand why it was so important that he have her living in his house. But when she stopped to think about it, there was no reason why she absolutely shouldn’t live there. She would have her own suite and could come and go as she pleased.
Everything he’d had to offer sounded pretty good, except for one thing. Despite every other concession he’d made, he still insisted she quit her job.
Tess couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t had some sort of job. Babysitting, delivering papers, stocking shelves at the party store—anything to earn a little extra spending cash. And later, hard work had been a way out of the hellhole that was her stepdad’s house.
If she quit working now, what would she do for money? She already felt uncomfortable taking things from Ben. But to be totally dependent on him?
Frankly, she was scared. What if she gave up her job, then found out he was some kind of creep or weirdo? She’d be stuck, because she seriously doubted anyone would be jumping at the chance to hire a pregnant woman.
She’d told him to give her a few days to think about it, but she still wasn’t sure what to do.
She pulled her car into a spot at the back of the employee lot, glanced at her watch, and cursed under her breath. She was ten minutes late.
Hopping from the car, she bolted for the back entrance. Olivia Montgomery, the owner of the resort, ruled like a foreign dictator, expecting one hundred and ten percent from her employees. Tardiness was not acceptable. And because of her temperamental carburetor, this was Tess’s third time in two weeks.
Tess shoved her way through the door and headed to the employee locker room behind the kitchen. As she turned the corner, her heart sank when she saw the morning shift manager standing next to her locker waiting for her.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “Car trouble.”
His sour expression was tarter than usual. She was convinced the guy sucked lemons for breakfast. “Mrs. Montgomery would like a word with you.”
Oh, swell. Getting chewed out by her boss was not her favorite way to start the day.
She shoved her jacket and purse into her locker and headed for Mrs. Montgomery’s office, where the secretary greeted her with a sympathetic smile. “Go on in, she’s waiting for you.”
Tess opened the door and stepped inside the lush office. Her boss was on the phone, but gestured to the chair across from her desk, her expression unreadable.
She spoke for several minutes, then said goodbye to the person on the line, hung up the phone and turned to Tess.
Tess had learned that the best thing to do in a situation like this was to shelve her pride and take responsibility for her actions. “I’m very sorry for being late. I know it’s unacceptable. I swear it won’t happen again.”
Her boss very calmly folded her hands atop her desk. “This is the third time in two weeks, Tess.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Well then, you can make it up by working a few extra shifts this week,” she said in that condescending, I’m God and you’re a peon tone. “We have several people out with the flu.”
Tess was already working over fifty hours a week. She’d been suffering a chronic backache and swollen knees from being on her feet too long, and her bad ankle had been stiff and sore. It also seemed that no matter how many hours she slept, she woke feeling exhausted. But she knew that if she didn’t work the extra hours Mrs. Montgomery would find a reason to fire her. She