Pregnant By The Ceo. Kate Carlisle
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housekeeper.”
“None of your damned business.”
Flashing him a smile, Novros flung himself down in a high-backed chair and looked idly through the contract.
Rafael sat down at his desk, watching him. He never should have borrowed the man’s private Greek island the last two days, he thought grimly. It gave him the vague sense of being in the man’s debt. A dangerous feeling as he finished the negotiations of purchasing the real estate in Paris, a prestige property in the business district of La Défense. A dangerous feeling, as it brought Louisa to the other man’s notice.
“It all appears to be in order.” Novros looked up with a lazy smile. “Throw in your housekeeper to seal the bargain, and we have a deal.”
Rafael’s hand tightened on his pen.
“Careful,” he growled through his teeth. He lifted his head, and his eyes glittered dangerously at his rival. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t even look at her.”
Novros lifted a dark eyebrow. “I see,” he said mildly, and looked back at the papers. He shook his head and threw them back on his desk. “Sorry. I’m going to need more time to think about it.”
Rafael clenched his jaw. He needed to break ground on the hugely expensive property at once in order to meet his schedule, and they both knew it. He wished to build a new headquarters for his international conglomerate in Paris. They’d already agreed on a price. He was tempted to smash the man’s face in.
Instead he smiled.
“Shall we throw in a sweetener?” Rafael suggested. “Sign it. Finish the deal. And this house—” he indicated the study with a generous sweep of his hand “—will be thrown into the bargain.”
Xerxes Novros stared at him for a moment.
Then with a nod, he signed the papers with a flourish.
“You gave in too easily,” the man said, handing the contract back to Rafael with an insolent grin. “I would have accepted less money for the property in Paris.”
Rafael took the signed contract and put it in his safe. “And I would have sold this house for a single euro.”
The other man stared at him, then snorted. “So we’ve both done well, then.” He lifted his chin, looking around the study. “How long will it take your people to get your possessions out of my house?”
“A week.”
“Fine.” Novros rose to his feet, then stopped at the door. “I suppose your little housekeeper is the mistress you took to my island?”
Rafael tensed. It irritated him that the man guessed that—and that he’d even noticed Louisa! “You find that so hard to believe?”
“Not now that I’ve seen her.” Novros paused, then said evenly, “Just be careful.”
“What?”
“With her history.”
Rafael stared at him. Novros knew something about Louisa that he, Rafael, did not? “What about it?” he bit out.
“Do you not know? Your Miss Grey used to work for a friend of mine in Miami. She lured him on, got an engagement ring out of him by keeping him out of her bed. Then when he started to lose interest, she invited her younger sister to come stay with them. The sister immediately seduced him into her bed. He was so sex-starved, he didn’t even think to use a condom. She got pregnant, as they’d planned, and the man felt he was honor-bound to marry her.” An admiring grin spread across his lips. “It was quite a clever plan, really.”
A cold chill went down Rafael’s spine.
“I’m just telling you this,” Novros said casually, “from one free bachelor to another. Be careful.”
Rafael felt cold. Then hot.
This was Louisa’s secret? This was the big mystery of her past? Something so sordid—and clichéd—as gold diggers getting their hands into wealthy men by deliberately trapping them with a pregnancy?
He sucked in his breath as he remembered calling to check Louisa’s references. Of course her employer’s wife had given Louisa an excellent reference. The woman he’d spoken with was her sister!
“Get her pregnant, and she’ll play you for a fool,” Novros said lazily. He stroked the polished wood of the door frame thoughtfully. “She did do excellent work overseeing this house. A very clever girl—and beautiful to boot. Send her to me, won’t you, when you’re tired of her?”
After the man left, Rafael sat still at his desk, staring blankly at the wallpaper across the study.
Louisa had said she was on the Pill. He’d blindly believed her. He’d told himself Louisa Grey would never tell a lie. He, who trusted no woman, had trusted her!
Cold rage slowly built up inside him. Was everything Novros had said true? Had Louisa been trying to become pregnant?
She’d had ample opportunity. He hadn’t used a condom in Greece, either. In fact, she could already be pregnant now.
Placing his hands on his desk, he pushed himself to his feet. He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes as he clenched his fists. Then he went out into the garden.
He found Dominique waiting for him in the moonlight, pouting and smiling.
“Darling, I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” she purred. She shimmied toward him in her tiny gold dress. She reached up her arms, barely able to reach his shoulders as she gave a seductive laugh. “It took you so long.”
Coldly he pushed her away.
“Go home, Dominique,” he said. “The party is over.”
And leaving the pampered French starlet gaping behind him, he strode toward the terrace, where he saw the source of his desire, his suffering and his fury. Louisa.
COLORFUL paper lanterns swung across the trees in the breeze, illuminating the dark garden above the black shimmer of the Bosphorus far below as Louisa cleaned the dishes from the terrace.
Dessert was over. Most of the guests had swiftly disappeared, returning to their rented villas or to nearby hotels, gorgeous women and wealthy men pairing off, seduced by each other and the exotic sensuality of Istanbul.
Louisa looked up when she heard a trill of low, feminine laughter. Dominique Lepetit’s laughter. She heard the murmur of Rafael’s low voice in answer.
For a moment, Louisa stared out blindly into the night. She blinked back cold tears beneath the cool breeze of wind coming off the water.
Then with a deep breath, she bent over to continue scrubbing the stone table. She gathered the silver coffeepot and dirty dishes back onto a tray. Some of the puff pastries remained, but all of her specialty caramel-macadamia brownies had been devoured down to the last crumbs. Rafael had never gotten his birthday brownie after all…
Louisa heard footsteps on the terrace and looked up.
A tall, dark-haired man stood alone on the other side of the terrace. He looked her over with an appre ciative glance.
“You are Miss Grey?”
“Yes.”
“I enjoyed those bars you made. What were they?”
She swallowed. “My secret recipe.”
“A secret. How delightful.” He wasn’t entirely handsome; he had a slightly crooked nose, and a cruel twist to his lips as he said carelessly, “And if I offered to pay you a million dollars?”
She lifted her