Michelle Douglas - The Secretary's Secret

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Pregnant?

A tentative excitement wrestled with her apprehension. One moment, joy held sway. In the next, anxiety had gained the upper hand. An unplanned pregnancy? She gulped. It sounded so irresponsible. Irresponsible people shouldn’t be al owed to raise children.

She hugged her handbag. No. She hadn’t been irresponsible. She and Alex had taken precautions. It was just that sometimes—obviously—accidents happened.

She frowned over that word— accident . Her baby wasn’t an accident. It was lovely—a miracle.

Alex wouldn’t think their baby lovely. He’d definitely think it was an accident—a mistake. She closed her eyes. It was pointless tel ing herself now that she was through with thinking about Alex. They were having a baby. That changed everything.

Praise for Michelle Douglas

“Packed with a smoldering tension

and underlying passion,

THE LONER’S GUARDED HEART by

Michel e Douglas wil leave readers wanting more…. [It] is a keeper that I wil treasure.

If you are a reader that loves tender heartfelt stories then this book is a must buy because it has al these elements and so much more.”

—www.cataromance.com

“Michel e Douglas makes an outstanding

debut with HIS CHRISTMAS ANGEL,

a complex, richly emotional story. The

characters are handled especial y wel , as are the many conflicts and relationships.

This one’s a keeper.”

—RT Book Reviews

MICHELLE DOUGLAS

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The Secretary’s Secret

At the age of eight, Michelle Douglaswas asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She answered, “A writer.” Years later, she read an article about romance writing and thought, Ooh, that’ll be fun. She was right. When she’s not writing, she can usual y be found with her nose buried in a book. She is currently enrol ed in an English master’s program for the sole purpose of indulging her reading and writing habits further. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero—husband, Greg, who is the inspiration behind al her happy endings. Michel e would love you to visit her at her website, www.michel e-douglas.com.

Books by Michelle Douglas:

CHRISTMAS AT CANDLEBARK FARM

THE CATTLEMAN, THE BABY AND ME

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To my grandparents,

Bunny and Beryl Snaddon,

with love and thanks for al those

wonderful summer holidays!

CONTENTS

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PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

PROLOGUE

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THE intercom on Kit’s desk buzzed and instantly her heart hammered up into her throat.

‘If you’d come through now, Ms Mercer.’

Kit’s toes curled at the rich black-coffee voice.

Her heart lurched back into her chest to thump out a loud tattoo. When she leant forward to depress a button, her finger was surprisingly steady given what was happening to the rest of her body. ‘Certainly, sir.’

Her finger might be steady but the huskiness of her voice was more Marilyn Monroe than sensible, strait-laced secretary. It should appal her, belying as it did her attempts to match her employer’s professional formality, but it didn’t. His formality made her lips twitch.

That formality delighted her; energized her.

She seized her shorthand pad and tried to stop herself from racing straight into his office. Cool.

Calm. Col ected. Her smile widened. No hope of that whatsoever!

Stil , she paused at the door to smooth a hand down her skirt. Adjusted her shirt. Undid her top button. Her fingers lingered at her throat, remembering…

Heat rose up through her. Anticipation fired along each and every one of her nerve endings.

She did her best to dispel the images that rose up through her. She didn’t want to appear like a trembly, needy teenager in the throes of her first crush. She wanted to look like a woman in control, like a woman who knew what she wanted. She wanted to look seductive.

She bit her lip to rein in a smile. What she wanted was for Alex to take one look at her, grin that sexy grin of his and take her in his arms. Kiss her. To sweep the polished surface of his enormous desk clear and make love to her.

Her legs grew languid, her breasts pushed against the crisp cotton of her shirt. She gulped in a steadying breath. Stop it! Alex had indicated how he wanted to play this. And last night had proved just how wel she and Alex played together. She smiled again. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. They’d play it Alex’s way this morning. Tonight they’d—

No. There’d be plenty of time to think about that later.

She lifted a hand to check her neat, businesslike bun and then, swal owing back her excitement, she pushed through the door, chin held high. ‘Good morning, sir.’ She made her voice brisk.

‘Take a seat, Ms Mercer.’ He nodded to her shorthand pad. ‘You won’t need that.’

She placed it on the desk in front of her then very careful y folded her hands together in her lap and waited for a cue. She loved that oh-so-serious look on his face, couldn’t wait until he said something sexy and husky in that masculine burr of his. She couldn’t wait to take the pins from her hair, to shake it out til it fel around her shoulders in a newly washed cloud, and to then walk around this enormous desk of his. No, not walk—sashay. She’d sashay slowly around to him like the siren she was starting to think she was.

The siren she’d become in his arms.

Once she was face to face with him she’d slide up to sit on his desk. She’d cross one leg over the other, making sure the action hitched up her skirt to reveal the silky tops of her stockings, held in place by a lacy suspender belt the colour of coffee cream.

Then she’d undo the buttons on her blouse, her fingers lingering over each one, until she’d revealed breasts practical y spil ing out of the tiniest wisp of lace imaginable in matching coffee cream.

And she wanted to watch his face while she did it.

She zeroed in on his face now, holding her breath and waiting for her cue, aching to play out that fantasy. His lips opened, lean and firm, and the breath hitched in her throat. Thick, hot yearning tumbled through her.

This man was al she’d ever dreamed of and more. Last night had revealed that to her in more. Last night had revealed that to her in undeniable glory. They’d moved together with an accord that had been more than physical. Last night had been the most wonderful night of her life. When Alex’s passion and gentleness and generosity as a lover had touched her soul.

Words emerged from those lean lips of his. Kit relished their black-coffee timbre, savoured their resonance, and drew in deep breaths of his dark malt scent. She’d caught a trace of that scent on her sheets this morning. She’d placed those sheets in the washing machine with a faint sense of regret before she’d left for work. She’d cheered herself with the thought that it’d take more than laundry powder and water to wash those memories away. Of course, there were al those new memories they’d make too and—