HelenKay Dimon - Pregnant By The Ceo

“I think I am.” He rarely lost and had no intention of starting now. “I’ll see you at ten tomorrow.”

She turned and headed for the door. “You’ll get my answer when you get it.”

She was gone before Derrick could respond.

Damn, he liked her. The fire and self-assurance were so sexy. She wasn’t yet thirty but she’d grown up fast when she’d lost her parents. He understood what it was like to take on responsibility early. It was one of the reasons he thought they’d be able to handle this arrangement. She would get what she needed and he’d get his obstinate father off his back.

Jackson cleared his throat. “You’re smiling.”

Derrick refused to play this game. “She’s...interesting.”

“This engagement thing is fake, right?”

“Of course.”

“Right.” Jackson exhaled. “That explains the stupid look on your face whenever you see her.”

Four

The DC Insider: Visits to the prestigious Hay-Adams. Visits to his office. It appears Ms. Ellie Gold has not only snagged our Hottest Ticket in Town’s attention but also has him spinning in circles. Well done, Ellie!

He had to be kidding. That thought kept running through Ellie’s mind as she paged through Derrick’s ten—no, fourteen-page agreement while sitting on her couch the next morning.

The thing had tiny print, and rules, and footnotes to new rules and references to yet more rules. The list of restrictions seemed endless. She couldn’t date anyone else. He had final approval over the people she saw on a friendly basis during the “term of their arrangement” and over any work plans she intended to pursue.

She had to act loving, whatever that meant. He hadn’t used the word obey but it was implied in almost every line. And that wasn’t even the most ridiculous part. He thought they’d live together. Actually live together.

She glanced around her small apartment, from one stack of empty boxes to another. She had savings but that would run out if she didn’t find a new job and a cheaper place to live soon. That would be easier if her jackass of an ex-boss hadn’t launched an offensive strike when she filed her internal complaint and fired her first, insisting she came on to him. As if that would ever happen.

The man’s wife had left town to watch over a sick aunt and he’d had his hands all over her by the next day. Kicking him in the crotch had felt great, but being escorted out of the building hadn’t.

His claims were nonsense. He had resources and family money...and a nasty reputation that people spoke about only in whispers and refused to confirm in public. She had documentation of the emails she’d sent after the incident and her complaint. No witnesses to what happened, unfortunately, but she guessed they’d be able to find a pattern of other women once they started digging.

Her lawyer was positive about her chances but cases cost money. She got that but employers weren’t exactly lining up to hire a supposed human resources expert who had been fired for making a play for her boss. She could not let this go. Not when it was likely he would do this to someone else.

Thinking about Joe touched off that familiar spiraling sensation in her stomach. That mix of panic and worry. She liked to eat and have electricity. Which led her to the convoluted mess of an agreement on her lap.

Derrick’s plan struck her as so odd. She had no idea if wealthy people usually did stuff like this, but she didn’t.

She picked up her mug of now-cool tea and prepared to read through the agreement one more time. The doorbell stopped her in the middle of what looked like a never-ending sentence of legalese gobbledygook.

Grumbling, she put down the mug and stood. Slipping her feet into her fluffy pink slippers, she shuffled across the floor. That took about ten seconds since she lived in a studio.

When the doorbell rang again, she skipped her usual check in the mirror by the door. Anyone this impatient deserved to be greeted with the full hair-sliding-out-of-the-ponytail style she had going on.

She peeked through the peephole and froze. Oh, no, no, no.

He was here. Now. At her house.

“Open up, Ellie.” Derrick’s deep voice floated through the door.

She tried not to make a sound.

He sighed loud enough to shake the building. “I can see your shadow under the door.”

“Fine.” She performed the perfect eye roll as she undid the lock. “What?”

He started talking before she fully opened the door. “It’s eleven.”

“I own a clock.” Though she guessed she looked as if she didn’t own a brush. She could practically feel the tangles in her hair without touching it. Add in the shorts and oversize sweater that functioned as her pajamas and she was positive she made quite the picture.

“Are you sure?” His gaze wandered over her and stopped on her slippers. “Those are an unexpected choice.”

“Imagine me kicking you with them.” She stepped to the side and let him in. Why fight it? He was not exactly the type to scamper off.

He slipped past her, smelling all fresh and clean. Today’s suit was navy blue and fit him, slid over every inch of him, perfectly.

He walked to the center of the room then turned around to face her. “You were supposed to be in my office at ten.”

No doubt about it, he was much hotter when he didn’t talk. “No, you commanded that I give you an answer to your absurd fake engagement suggestion by a stated time and I declined.”

“Interesting.”

Since that could refer to anything, she ignored it and focused on another annoying fact. “Hey, how did you know where I live?”

He shot her a look that suggested he found the question ridiculous. “Please.”

That was not even a little reassuring. “Did Jackson follow me?”

“Jackson is in the car.”

Okay... “Is that an answer?”

Derrick looked around the room, from the couch to the rows of bookcases lining the walls and holding her collection of romances and mysteries. He kept going, skipping over the kitchenette and falling on the unmade bed against the far wall.

He turned and stared at her again, his expression blank. “Yes or no, Ellie.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He was talking about the agreement. He needed a fake fiancée and, for whatever reason, thought she fit the description. “It’s not that simple.”

“It actually is.”

Of course he would think so. The entire agreement benefitted him. “We don’t know each other.”

He frowned. “You said that already. So?”

Such a guy. “Really? That’s your answer?”

“Again, for what feels like the tenth time, this is a business arrangement, not an actual romance.”

She joined him by the couch. “Now you sound ticked off.”

“I hate repetition.”

Poor baby. “Do you want a fiancée or not? Because I would be doing this for you, not me.”

“We both know that’s not true. You benefit. Your brother benefits.” Derrick shifted his weight and looked down. He stared at the magazines piled on her floor for a few seconds then pushed them to the side with his foot. “All you need to do is follow a few simple rules.”

She didn’t bother to debate his idea of a “few” because that could take them all day. From his scowl she guessed he wanted to add another provision to the agreement to forbid her slight tendency toward clutter.

“You say that but everyone I know needs to believe it’s real.” She scooped up the agreement and flipped through the pages then began pointing. “Here, look at this.”

He didn’t bother to glance down. “I’m familiar with the contract.”

“Then you know we’re supposed to live together.” Which sounded as absurd this time as when she’d read it earlier.