Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO

by Catherine Mann

“What then?”

  “I’m scared as hell of loving another child and screwing up—” his voice came out ragged, tortured “—of having my soul ripped out if something happens to him or her. I can’t go through that again. My heart died that day, Amie. I don’t think I have anything left to give the two of you and that’s so damn unfair.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, no tears escaping, and she knew that just meant he kept them bottled up inside with all that pain and misplaced guilt.

  “Preston? Preston,” she said again until he looked at her. “You seem to care a lot more than you like to let on. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “You’re seeing what you want to see.”

  “Trust me—” she cupped his face and couldn’t help but notice he left his hands on her stomach where their baby grew “—I may be an artist, but I’m the most starkly realistic one in the family.”

  She was far more practical than people gave her credit for, a side effect of having her every move scrutinized by a stage mother—a mother she did not intend to emulate.

  Her thoughts were cut short by the soft chime of a bell that preceded an announcement from the driver.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Armstrong. My apologies for choosing this route, sir. There’s an overturned bus ahead. Looks like we may be stuck here for a while.”

  Preston hit the speaker button. “Not a problem. Thank you for the update.”

  Releasing the light on the communications panel, he stared at her in the dim light of the luxury car, his eyes bright with inscrutable emotions slowly shifting to...hunger.

  It was her only warning before he leaned closer and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her. Not a quick kiss. But the kind that promised more.

  So much more.

  * * *

  The old hurt and anger roiled inside him. But this time, instead of running it out, he had Amie’s hands on him. Amie’s soft voice in his ear and slender body shifting beside him on the limo seat. It was tough to resist her on a good day. And this day? The last twenty-four hours had shredded him.

  All the emotions surged and shifted into one inescapable need.

  He kissed her hard. Deep. But he made sure to be gentle with his hands and his body. He skimmed a touch along her bare shoulders, feeling her shiver and tremble. She was exquisitely sensitive. He’d been an ass not to see the signs of her pregnancy earlier. But now? It seemed written all over her body.

  In the way she quivered against him when he did something small, like nip her ear the way he did now. Or when he licked his way down her neck and her skin broke out in goose bumps.

  The limo windows were the blackout kind. No one could see in. The partition window was secured, he’d double-checked it on the communications panel. Doors locked. Traffic jam keeping them right here for a long time.

  So he didn’t quit kissing her. He laid her back on the seat and stretched out alongside her, never breaking his kiss down her chest to the swell of her breast. More delicious evidence of her pregnancy. He’d just thought her curves were even more lush than he’d remembered from that first wild night together. But now, he cupped the weight of them in both hands, savoring the way she felt almost as much as he liked hearing her breath catch.

  Dipping his head to the valley between her breasts, he nudged aside the pin on her red Grecian gown, essentially undoing all her clothes with just one touch. A red lace bra molded to her curves, but a flick of the front hinge had that falling away, too.

  Impatient as hell, needing to lose himself in her—in this—he circled one tight crest with his tongue even as he slid his hand up her thigh. She arched and sighed beneath his touch, totally on board with this plan. He nudged aside the lace panties she wore, feeling her warmth right through the thin fabric.

  “Amie.” He said her name so she would open her eyes.

  Put all that brilliant blue focus on him as he touched her. She was a beautiful woman, but damn...so much more than that. He watched her lips part as he slid a touch inside her. Her eyes fell closed again. Her thighs clamping tight to his hand to hold the touch there.

  As if he was going anywhere.

  He covered her mouth with his again, working her with his hand until he felt the rhythm of her sighs and throaty little hums of pleasure. Finding the pace she liked best, he took her higher. Teased her. Tempted her.

  He wanted to draw it out. To make it last, but she had her own ideas. She captured his wrist in her hand. Held him right where she wanted him most.

  “You like that?” He repeated the circling motion, bending to draw on one breast. Then the other. “I like it, too.”

  “More,” she demanded, voice rasping, her blue gaze landing on his.

  Complying, he drove her right where she needed to be, her cries of completion sweet music in his ear as she found her release.

  Another day, he might have given her a little time to recover herself. Or taken her to that peak a second time while she was so delectably willing in his arms. But just then, that dark, hungry need returned, his emotions churning to the surface. Reminding him how damn much he needed her.

  “Preston?” She smoothed her fingers along his shoulder, making him realize he hadn’t even removed his jacket.

  He ditched it now, sitting up on the seat.

  “I’m going to bring you up here, sweetheart,” he crooned as he peeled away her panties and then lifted her. Gently. Carefully. He moved her onto his lap so she straddled him.

  Her thighs splayed over his, remnants of her red silk gown still clung to her thighs and waist. She unfastened his belt and tuxedo pants, freeing him from his boxers. He watched her, her dark hair mostly falling around her shoulders, the updo sacrificed to their frenzy.

  She stroked him, fingers cool and nimble as she guided him closer to where she wanted him.

  Grasping her hips, he lifted her high and then eased her down. Down. Deeper.

  Perfect.

  Everything else fell away. Her slick heat surrounded him, holding him tight. Her hands fell to his chest where she steadied herself. She brushed a kiss along his cheek, urging him on. Telling him what she needed in a way that only fueled him up. His hands molded to her waist. Smoothed up to her breasts.

  He had a lot of other ideas for his hands, too. But she gripped his wrists again. Pinned them to the limo seat on either side of his head as if she had him captive. She arched an eyebrow at him. Teasing.

  But then things got crazy. She swayed her hips in a dance that about turned him inside out. Lifting up on her knees, she found a rhythm she liked and took them both higher. Faster. And he let her. Not thinking right now—great idea. He took everything she was giving him.

  When her grip slipped on his wrists, though, he sensed she was close. He held her waist, taking over, pushing them the rest of the way. Her release squeezed him hard, spurring his own. With no condom between them, the pleasure seemed to last all the longer, the pregnancy issue moot at this point, and hell if that didn’t feel...so good.

  Wrung dry, he shuddered a deep sigh and folded her against him. Holding her. Kissing her bare shoulder as a silk strand of her dark hair teased his nose. He spanned a hand along her back, rubbing slow circles while he tried to find his breath again.

  He couldn’t bear to think about the past anymore. And thinking about the future raked him raw with fears as well. Walling off the past didn’t mean he had to wall himself off from the future. He just wanted to lose himself in the present, with Amie.

  “I’m sorry for being distant earlier today. I just needed some time to myself to think.”

  “I know.” She shifted against him, resituating herself so she sat beside him, her head tucked against his chest. Her hand covering his heart. “I’ve had more time to process this than you, and even for me I feel like I can’t wrap my head around it. Everything is changing so fast. Both with my
grandmother and the baby.”

  “Let me help you. Your whole family works together and depends on each other. We’re tied now through this child, so let me into that circle.” He hoped it was the right time for this—the most important pitch of his life.

  But it needed to happen and he couldn’t fail. She meant too much to him.

  “What do you have in mind?” She lifted her head, eyeing him as the limousine finally inched forward.

  Preston took her hands in his and hoped his eyes didn’t betray his fears. The time had come to tear down some walls and start letting her in if they would stand a chance at building a future together.

  “Let’s get married.”

  Ten

  “Married?” Shock chilled Amie to the core, the leather crackling under her as she inched back to look into Preston’s eyes. She’d expected him to pursue her because of the baby. But she hadn’t expected this. It felt too forced, too sudden. Too rehearsed. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “I’m completely serious.” His voice was steady, eyes trained on her face.

  Amie shook her head in disbelief. “We’ve only known each other a couple of months. That’s a huge leap to take just because I’m pregnant.”

  She knew he was only proposing because of the baby, and maybe even to secure things at the company, too. Old insecurities flamed to life inside her and she couldn’t shut them down no matter how much she wanted to believe their connection was special. That given more time, they could have gotten to this place on their own. And maybe they would have. But now there was no way to separate fact from fiction.

  Preston reached for her hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. His face etched calmness. Stability. Reminding her of his boardroom demeanor, where he focused on the goal and calmly maneuvered his way there. Her gut wrenched.

  “Sure, it hasn’t been long, but you can’t deny we have something good going here. We have an attraction beyond anything I’ve experienced. We get along now that you’re not icing me out at the office. We work well together. I know we can build a future together for ourselves and this baby.”

  A part of her heart leaped at the idea of being married to Preston. He was a good man. Protective. Confident. Sexy as hell. But she wouldn’t settle for being his end goal just because he felt as if he should marry her. Ever since her pageant days, people had taken it upon themselves to judge what was best for her. To tell her what she needed, what she desired. For so long, she hadn’t cared about the outcome of the pageants, so she let herself be told what to wear, what act to perform and how to answer interview questions.

  Was Preston just like that, deciding this was the most logical outcome to their problem? Deciding what was best for her? She couldn’t allow herself to take the path of least resistance just because it was simple. And the man in question was irresistibly appealing. She owed her baby better.

  She wanted to trust what he said, but she needed more from him. Was it so wrong to want him to want her, child and company aside? “We don’t have to decide now. We have a few months to think this through.”

  “I take it that’s a no.” He still held her hand, but his grip loosened.

  “I just want us to make the right choices—for ourselves and the baby. We still have time with the Atlanta event before we have to face the family at home...”

  “Family.” He slumped back in the seat, dropping her hand. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a pent-up sigh. “I hadn’t thought about all of them.”

  “And your parents. Do you have other family?”

  He shook his head. “Not since Leslie died.”

  “Do you still communicate with your ex-wife?” Amie knew so little about his life before the company. Before her. They were tied together through this child. And if he was going to make hasty decisions, she would make sure she balanced that with all the important angles he was overlooking.

  He blinked in surprise but answered quickly. “Not often or regularly. Last I heard, she and her new husband moved to Georgia. They adopted two children, siblings that had been orphaned.”

  “And you’re okay with her remarrying and having kids?” Her breath caught in her throat, heart pounding as she asked the question.

  “Of course I’m all right with that. I want her to move on and have a future.”

  Yet he hadn’t moved on for himself. Or was that what he was trying to do now? So tough to tell when she didn’t know much about him or his past. “What was your daughter like when she was little?”

  “Feisty, independent.” He laughed out the words. Preston’s gaze seemed to turn inward. Thoughtful.

  Amie knew in that moment how much he had loved his daughter.

  “Sounds like her father.” Amie grinned at him, placing her hand on his knee, leaning closer. This was a hard subject for him. She wanted to make sure he didn’t close up on her. And that he knew she was here to listen.

  “Except for the pigtails.”

  “Now, that’s an image.” Her smile widened. “What color was her hair?”

  “Dark, like mine. She was an active child. She walked early, loved her trike. I bought her a pony, a fat little bay mare from Chincoteague, Virginia. She loved the books about the ponies from that island. It seemed suited that she had a formerly wild pony as her own.” He hung his head. “My ex said I used gifts to make up for lack of time.”

  “That could be true, but it also sounds like you knew her and her wishes. Time together doesn’t always translate to a quality relationship anyway. My parents spent plenty of time with me and never had a clue what I wanted to do or what gifts I may have preferred.”

  “I appreciate you trying to let me off the hook. But I made mistakes. I have to live with that. I’m going to do my best not to make the same mistakes with this child.” Genuine promises shone in his eyes.

  Amie desperately wanted to believe that’s what she was seeing. “My baby’s lucky to have you as a father.”

  “Our baby,” he softly corrected her.

  “Right, I’m still adjusting, too.” She was fidgety. Her fingertips smoothed back her hair, but nothing was out of place—unlike her insides that were a mess.

  “I want to be more than the dad. I want to be there. With you and the baby.”

  “I told you, I need more time to think about the proposal.” Her voice edged with more steel than she intended. While she was starting to have a clearer picture of Preston the father, the image of Preston the husband was still elusive. And she would not settle. She needed someone that genuinely wanted her.

  Preston considered her words. Amie could see him recalculating. “Well then, how about we move in together and if we decide to get married one day, we can head to the courthouse. Let me at least be there to help you through the pregnancy day by day.”

  “I have a houseful of servants.” She was thinking practically, suspecting he was doing the same.

  “Good. Because I suck at doing laundry.” He offered her a causal grin. “So is that a yes to moving in together?”

  She studied his face, trying to get a read on him. If only she had spent the past two months getting to know him. She might have been able to tell something from the light in his hazel eyes. “Let’s enjoy the next couple of days and decide after the Atlanta show so we have a plan in place when we talk to our families.”

  He studied her at length as if he intended to press, then nodded. “I can live with that.” He slid his hand behind her neck, fingers massaging her scalp. “In the meantime, I intend to make the most of every second to fully and completely seduce you.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I intend to seduce you first.”

  * * *

  Preston lint rolled cat fur from his tuxedo, making sure not a stray hair was in sight. Tonight was important. And not just for the gala. It meant more th
an selling jewelry and making this line succeed.

  He needed to sell Amie on the idea of them. She hadn’t outright rejected the idea of them together, but she wouldn’t commit to the proposal. He could see hesitation and questions in her eyes.

  If she would just say yes, he could do away with so many of those fears. He had meant what he said about wanting to be there for their baby. For her. He wanted to do this right.

  There had to be a way to convince her that he was serious about her. That he wanted to pamper and take care of her and their unborn child.

  She was an amazing woman. Independent. And she was smarter than she gave herself credit for. Her artistic instincts were brilliant and he hated that she couldn’t see how much she was worth to the company. To him in particular.

  Amie riled him, made him want to try harder. There was something in the way she carried herself, in her sarcasm and eclectic flair that drew him in. No one but Amie would ever consider taking an elderly and sickly cat on a business trip just to ensure proper care was administered. Her heart was so big. He wanted a place in it.

  He’d been racking his brain on how to show her he cared. How to prove to her practical nature that he cared. Or maybe...

  He stopped the mindless brushing of his tuxedo jacket and put the lint roller down on the floor for Roscoe to play with—the cat was a primo escape artist, sneaking out of Amie’s room. Maybe he didn’t need to show her he cared so much as show her that he believed in her.

  Hadn’t she said that no one in her family took her seriously? That she wasn’t even asked about heading the company? A plan came together in his mind as he thought of ways he could show her just how much he valued her. She might think his efforts to prove his faith in her were just corporate maneuvering. And—he had to admit—the plan he had in mind was straight out of his boardroom toolbox. But for a woman who felt as if she hadn’t been taken seriously in the business world, it might help her to understand that he saw her differently.

  That he recognized more than her legendary beauty or her obvious wealth. He respected the hell out of her.