JENNIE LUCAS - Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child

“Obey me, and it will be easier for everyone. Especially you.”

Obey him?

That was what had gotten her into this trouble in the first place. Just off Copacabana Beach, to the rhythmic beat of samba music and the howls of the crowds, he’d looked back at her. He’d taken her in his arms and kissed her with a sudden ferocity that had made her weak. “You’re coming home with me,” he’d whispered against the flushed heat of her skin. “You’re coming to my bed…”

And she hadn’t resisted. She’d thought she was in love with him. She’d dreamed so long of being his, and she’d surrendered to his orders without a fight.

But back then she’d only risked herself. Now she was pregnant. Her baby had to be protected at all costs. If Diogo meant her harm….

“You said you didn’t want to be a father. I accept that.” She shook her head desperately. “Send me back home. We’ll never bother you again. The child will never even know about you!”

Diogo’s dark eyebrows lowered. “Because you have other plans? No,” he said with a curl on his lip. “No baby of mine will leave Rio.”

Jennie Lucasgrew up dreaming about faraway lands. At fifteen, hungry for experience beyond the borders of her small Idaho city, she went to a Connecticut boarding school on scholarship. She took her first solo trip to Europe at sixteen, then put off college and travelled around the US, supporting herself with jobs as diverse as gas station cashier and newspaper advertising assistant. At twenty-two she met the man who would be her husband. After their marriage, she graduated from Kent State with a degree in English. Seven years after she started writing she got the magical call from London that turned her into a published author.

Since then life has been hectic, with a new writing career and a sexy husband and two babies under two, but she’s having a wonderful (albeit sleepless) time. She loves immersing herself in dramatic, glamorous, passionate stories. Maybe she can’t physically travel to Morocco or Spain right now, but for a few hours a day, while her children are sleeping, she can be there in her books.

Jennie loves to hear from her readers. You can visit her website at www.jennielucas.com, or drop her a note at jennie@jennielucas.com

BY

Jennie Lucas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Pete, who offered to whisk me to Rio for “research”. Happy anniversary, honey, today and forever.

CHAPTER ONE

PREGNANT.

As Ellie Jensen came up the stairs from the subway, her body was still shaking. She dimly heard taxi drivers yelling curses and honking their horns. Vendors were already setting up hot dog and pretzel carts on the sidewalks. After a long, gray winter, New York had finally surrendered to the brilliant warmth of May.

But Ellie was cold to the bone. She hadn’t felt her fingers or toes for hours. Not since she took the pregnancy test that morning and saw those two parallel pink lines

Pregnant .

She was getting married in six hours, and she was pregnant.

With another man’s baby.

Her boss’s baby.

Ellie stopped dead in front of the Serrador Building. She craned her neck to look up at the thirtieth floor, and panic ripped through her.

Diogo Serrador, the dark, ruthless steel tycoon who’d employed her for the last year, was going to be a father.

I cannot get you pregnant , querida. She still remembered his sensual voice that hot night, riding the hot drumbeat of Rio’s Carnaval . He’d whispered against her skin, Do not worry. It’s impossible .

And she’d believed him!

How could she have been so stupid? With her history, how could she have fallen prey to the oldest cliché in the world—an innocent country girl moving to the big, bad city and getting seduced by her arrogant, wealthy, vastly sexy boss?

She should have left the company at Christmas, when Timothy did. At the very least, she should have given notice weeks ago—as she’d promised him she would. But she’d kept procrastinating. As if something would stop her from losing the city she loved. The life she loved. The man she…

She stopped the thought cold.

It had been just a crush. A wild, heart-pounding crush. Then a seduction…

Ellie’s heart hurt as she looked up at the brilliant blue sky above the sweetly singing birds. The air was fresh and warm. The world was new.

But the news of her pregnancy wouldn’t make Diogo a father. She knew that already. The notorious playboy had his choice of gorgeous, brilliant women. He took them out, treated them like goddesses, then discarded them like last night’s rubbish. If women like that couldn’t hold his attention, no wonder he’d forgotten Ellie, a high school dropout with cheap clothes and unremarkable looks!

Diogo Serrador, a decent father?

The most likely scenario was that he’d carelessly offer her money for an abortion.

“Oh…” Covering her face with her hands, she cursed him aloud, causing the pedestrians hurrying past her on the sidewalk to give her a wide berth.

As inconvenient a shock as this pregnancy was, Ellie had already come to love this baby ferociously. This child was hers. Her family .

But Diogo had the right to know. Didn’t he?

Ellie ground her teeth. She would fling his lie back into his face!

She pushed open the building’s wide revolving door and took the elevator to the thirtieth floor. Determination steeled her as she passed the glassed-in offices down the hall.

“You’re late,” Carmen Alvarez snapped at Ellie as she passed her desk. “The numbers you gave me last night were all wrong. What’s the matter with you, girl?”

Ellie felt the floor move beneath her in a sway of nausea. She’d nearly been sick twice on the subway ride from her tiny Washington Heights studio apartment. She’d been queasy for months. That should have warned her, but she’d told herself her cycle was erratic. She couldn’t be pregnant. Diogo Serrador had given his word! I cannot get you pregnant , querida.

“Are you sick?” Mrs. Alvarez demanded with narrowed eyes. “Partying all night?”

“Party?” Ellie gave a weak laugh. That morning, when she’d finally been unable to zip up the black pencil skirt or button her close-fitting white shirt, she’d gone to the twenty-four-hour drugstore and bought a test from the pimply-faced teenager at the cash register. “No, not a party.”

“Then it’s some man,” the older woman said. “I’ve seen this before. Wait right there.” Holding up her finger in warning, the executive secretary answered the phone. “Diogo Serrador’s office,” she chirped brightly, turning away.

One of the other junior secretaries crept up to pat Ellie’s shoulder.

“Did you see Mr. Serrador’s picture in the papers this morning?” Jessica said in a sweet Southern drawl. “He took Lady Allegra Woodville to the benefit last night. She’s so elegant and beautiful, don’t you think? But then she comes from an upper-class background, just like he does. Blood will tell, my mama always used to say, class—” she looked over Ellie with hard eyes “—or trash.”

Ellie ground her teeth. She never should have confessed her infatuation for Diogo—or her heartache after Rio.

Jessica saw her job simply as a way to pass the time until she found a rich husband, and she’d long ago set her sights on Diogo. Ellie had been trying to warn the girl with her own heartbreak.

Instead, Jessica had spread malicious rumors all over the office. Ellie was now despised by all the staff as a gold-digging slut. Ellie—a slut! She, who’d never even kissed a man before. Diogo had swept her up into his arms in Rio!

Thank God she’d finally given up on her dreams. She’d finally realized that her grandmother was right. Her heart wasn’t hard or modern enough to survive city life. She’d given up. Given in .

Three weeks ago, she’d finally told Timothy yes.

He had left his prestigious job as Diogo Serrador’s general counsel at Christmas, abruptly deciding to be a simple country lawyer in their small hometown. He’d pressured Ellie to leave with him, but she’d refused.

But after today she would never have to see New York again—or Diogo. She would be married to a safe, respectable man who loved her. A man she could trust.

Assuming Timothy still wanted her when she was pregnant with another man’s child.

Mrs. Alvarez hung up the phone and turned to face Ellie. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing in your spare time, but your work has been unacceptable. This is your last chance—”

Diogo’s deep, accented voice interrupted her, booming through the intercom on the elegant dark wood desk. “Mrs. Alvarez, come at once.”

A thrill of panic raced through Ellie at the sound of his voice, causing her heart to nearly leap out of her chest.

“Yes, sir,” the executive secretary replied, then released the intercom button. Her critical eyes traced over Ellie’s pale, sweaty face and shapeless dark dress. “I need you to create a new SWOT analysis on Changchun Steel in dollars.” When Ellie didn’t move, she said sharply, “Get going, girl.”

“No,” Ellie whispered.

Mrs. Alvarez turned back with surprise and anger in her eyes. “What did you say?”

Shaking but determined, Ellie faced down the older woman. “I need to see him.”

She looked dumbfounded. “Certainly not!”

“Let her go,” Jessica muttered under her breath. “Once he sees her in that dumpy dress, he’ll fire her for sure.”

Ignoring her hurtful comment, Ellie started toward the office door.

“Stop right there!” Sputtering in outrage, the older woman stepped in front of her, pointing at Ellie in an angry staccato as she spoke. “This is the last straw . Whatever you might think you’ve earned on your back , you’re nothing here. I’ve had it with your incompetence. Your insolence! Collect your things. You are fired! ”

Desperately, Ellie pushed past Mrs. Alvarez into the private office of her billionaire boss.

Diogo Serrador was having a week from hell.

After a year of nonstop work and millions of dollars spent, his hostile takeover bid for Trock Nickel Ltd. had just failed.

Because he’d lost his ally on their board of directors.

Because he’d missed an important appointment.

Because his junior secretary had written down the wrong time.

And it was only Ellie Jensen’s most recent mistake. For the last few weeks, he’d seen her work performance fall to ridiculous levels. He’d seen her come in late. Leave early. Take long lunches and spend far too much time hiding out in the bathroom.

Crying, probably.

Cursing under his breath, Diogo got up from his desk and paced in front of the curved wall of windows that revealed the skyscrapers of southern Manhattan and Battery Park. For an instant, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass, staring across the New York Harbor to the distant Statue of Liberty silhouetted against the pale morning sky. In spite of Miss Jensen’s inexperience, and in spite of the way he’d hired her—sight unseen, on his head lawyer’s recommendation—she’d been promising enough for him to take to Rio for an important deal when Mrs. Alvarez had been ill. Ellie Jensen had been on her way to becoming a valuable asset in his office.