Linda Goodnight - Her Pregnant Agenda

Wintersoft’s CEO is on a husband hunt for his daughter. Trouble is Emily has uncovered his scheme. But can she marry off the eligible executives before Dad sets his crazy plan in motion?

“You have a miracle in there.”

“Two of them,” Ariana responded.

Grant moved a hand to either side of her belly and drew her to him. The babies moved beneath his touch.

They stood there, connected in a most elemental way, and Grant’s urge to share in her babies shifted and changed. He had the most frightening need to pull her closer, to lay his mouth over hers, to feel her heartbeat against his.

Their glances connected. She knew he wanted to kiss her and she wanted it, too.

Ariana Fitzpatrick, pregnant or not, was exquisite. A dark and delicate beauty who caused him to feel things he didn’t want to feel and to think things he had no business thinking.

With the great discipline he’d cultivated over the years, he removed his hands and stepped away.

Dear Reader,

October is bringing big changes in the Silhouette and Harlequin worlds. To strengthen the terrific lineup of stories we offer, Silhouette Romance will be moving to four fabulous titles each month.

Don’t miss the newest story in this six-book series—MARRYING THE BOSS’S DAUGHTER. In this second title, Her Pregnant Agenda (#1690) by Linda Goodnight, Emily Winters is up to her old matchmaking tricks. This time she has a bachelor lawyer and his alluring secretary—a single mom-to-be—on her matrimonial short list.

Valerie Parv launches her newest three-book miniseries, THE CARRAMER TRUST, with The Viscount & the Virgin (#1691). In it, an arrogant royal learns a thing or two about love from his secret son’s sassy aunt. This is the third continuation of Parv’s beloved Carramer saga.

An ornery M.D. is in danger of losing his heart to a sweet young nurse, in The Most Eligible Doctor (#1692) by reader favorite Karen Rose Smith. And is it possible to love a two-in-one cowboy? Meet the feisty teacher who does, in Doris Rangel’s magical Marlie’s Mystery Man (#1693), our latest SOULMATES title.

I encourage you to sample all four of these heartwarming romantic titles from Silhouette Romance this month.

Enjoy!

Mavis C. Allen

Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Gayle Warrington, who encouraged me from the beginning and still awaits every book with enthusiasm and excitement. Friends like you are hard to find.

Silhouette Romance

For Her Child… #1569

Married in a Month #1682

Her Pregnant Agenda #1690

A romantic at heart, Linda Goodnight believes in the traditional values of family and home. Writing books enables her to share her certainty that, with faith and perseverance, love can last forever and happy endings really are possible.

A native of Oklahoma, Linda lives in the country with her husband, Gene, and Mugsy, an adorably obnoxious rat terrier. She and Gene have a blended family of six grown children. An elementary school teacher, she is also a licensed nurse. When time permits, Linda loves to read, watch football and rodeo and indulge in chocolate. She also enjoys taking long, calorie-burning walks in the nearby woods. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com.

FROM THE DESK OF EMILY WINTERS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

She was not going to cry.

Ariana Fitzpatrick rushed into the forty-ninth floor ladies’ room of Wintersoft, Inc., found the place thankfully empty and slammed into the first stall. She shoved a Kleenex hard against her eyelids. No matter how rotten the day, no matter how guilty she felt, she would not cry. Not again. She was past the crying stage of pregnancy.

She glanced down at the seven-and-a-half-month protrusion around her middle and sniffled. “Way past the crying stage.”

She sniffled again and leaned her throbbing head against the cool stall divider. Reaching for another tissue, she found the dispenser empty, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Sobs ripped free like a mob at a soccer game. Once loose there was no stopping them. She, normally so professional and calm, cried until her headache became a concussion, her eyelids turned to puff pastry, and her throat felt like raw hamburger.

“I hate you Benjy Walburn,” she blubbered, slamming one fist into the wall.

“Are you all right in there?” A voice called, and Ariana wished she were anywhere but here. She clapped a hand over her mouth and hiccuped.

Someone rapped on the stall. “Would you like to talk?”

“No.” And that one word started the bawling over again.

“Open the door,” a concerned voice demanded.

“Who is it?” Ariana managed to squeak.

“Emily Winters. Who’s in there?”

If she wasn’t already squalling her brains out, she’d cry. Emily Winters, the boss’s daughter. The jig was up, the party was over. She may as well come clean. Besides, she was desperate for a tissue.

“Ariana Fitzpatrick,” she said and stepped out, taking care not to whack her belly on anything in the process. She grabbed for the tissue dispenser.

“Ariana!” Emily’s gaze flew to Ariana’s midsection. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she managed to say, which was a silly answer given that she clearly was not all right.

How could she explain to Emily Winters, of all people, the extent of her duplicity? Ariana battled another wave of tears. More than anything she didn’t want to lose her job. Couldn’t afford to lose it now with the babies coming and Benjy gone like the wind.

“Obviously, something has happened. If not your babies, then what?” In a chic blue sheath topped with a white jacket, Emily looked slim and professional. With the emphasis on slim.

Ariana was desperate to tell someone, was certain she would explode if she didn’t. These months of white lies and saving face and fretting over possible damage to Wintersoft, Inc. had taken an enormous toll on her. Who better to hear the truth than the boss’s tenderhearted daughter? Before the tears rolled again, she managed to blurt, “I’m a big fat liar.”

With the emphasis on fat.

Emily didn’t looked shocked, only concerned. “Want to tell me the problem? Maybe I can help.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Well, uh—yes,” Emily’s sapphire gaze dropped to Ariana’s middle filling up half the distance between the stall and the sink. “I had noticed that.”

Ariana finally found her humor and laughed. Emily joined her. Who wouldn’t notice a woman who’d swallowed a Volkswagen?

“I think everyone in the company is excited about your twins and the upcoming wedding.”

Ariana fought back a new threat of tears. “That’s the problem. There’s not going to be a wedding. I made that up.” The little white lie had seemed like the best solution at the time. “Benjy jilted me two months ago—on the day we were supposed to be married.”

“Oh, Ariana, I’m so sorry.” Emily ripped more tissue from the dispenser and poked the soft paper into Ariana’s hand. “But I don’t understand. Why lie about it? You’re not the loser, he is.”

Ariana sniffed and dabbed at her sodden face. One of the twins elbowed her. Taking the hint, she leaned sideways, giving him more room. “I love my babies and wouldn’t undo them if I could. But I was worried about causing a problem for the company. My job in public relations is to make Wintersoft, Inc. look good. Instead I’m a walking poster child for an abstinence program.”

At least that was part of the reason. She’d thought everything would eventually work itself out and the lie wouldn’t matter, but the problem only grew until she didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Nonsense. The company’s image is not the important issue here, Ariana. You and your twins are.” Emily frowned. “This Benjy jerk is planning to support you financially, isn’t he?”

Ariana sighed and pressed the tissue into her burning eyes. “According to Benjy, I’m on my own. He thinks the stork brought these babies.”

“That’s outrageous!”

The bathroom door swished open and Carmella Lopez entered. The older woman took one look at Ariana’s tear-stained face and draped a motherly arm over her shoulders. “What’s outrageous?”

Executive assistant to Emily’s father, Carmella was way too close to the top of the pecking order for Ariana’s comfort. She’d much rather Mr. Winters never know about her duplicity. But Emily spoke before Ariana could stop her. “Ariana’s fiancé left her and refuses to support their babies.”

“The dog.” Carmella stepped away, sympathetic brown eyes traveling over Ariana’s very pregnant body. “What you need is a good lawyer.”

“As if I can afford one,” Ariana bemoaned.

Eyes lighting up, Emily held up a finger. “I told you I could help. One of the best attorney’s in Boston is our general counsel, and I’ll bet we can talk him into taking your case pro bono.” She took Ariana’s hand and pulled her to the door.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Ariana pulled back, horrified. Wasn’t being pregnant, unwed and jilted bad enough without becoming a charity case to boot?

“Of course you can. Lawyers do that kind of thing all the time. Ethics or something. And Grant Lawson is the embodiment of ethics.” She gave another tug, and Ariana, already overbalanced, had no choice but to follow.

Carmella forestalled them. “Emily, could you come by my office later? We need to discuss an important matter.” Some sort of mental message passed between the two women.

“Of course.” Emily wiggled two fingers and pushed Ariana into the hall. “See you later.”

Ariana had a stitch in her side by the time Emily escorted her up to the fiftieth floor, through the outer office and passed Mr. Lawson’s prim and proper assistant, Sunny Robbins. After a soft knock, she poked her head around the door marked General Counsel. “Hi, Grant, do you have a minute? Ariana could use some advice.”

Working furiously over a stack of papers, Grant Lawson glanced up at the interruption. He lay his pen aside. “Advice is what I do best. Come on in.”

Athletically built with black hair and stunning blue eyes, all six foot two of Wintersoft’s top attorney exuded strength and power. Mr. Perfect, as the girls in the secretarial pool called him, was gorgeous. Respected by everyone in the company, he was the object of more than one single female’s fantasy. But while friendly and polite, he maintained a businesslike reserve that screamed, “Don’t get too close.”

Though aware of his good looks and impeccable manners, Ariana was not among the drooling. She was too busy falling for men who needed rescuing. Trouble was, she never succeeded in solving their problems; she only added to her own.

Rising, Grant came around the desk. “Have a seat, ladies.”