Return of the Secret Heir by Rachel Bailey

Author:Rachel Bailey
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

A week later, JT threw down his pen, yawned and stretched at his desk—sleeping on Pia’s couch was a killer on his spine. He had a pile of work in his in-tray, but all he could think about was Pia at home, driving herself crazy with boredom. She’d been doing menial work that other lawyers in the office were sending home on Arthur’s daily courier visits, which obviously wasn’t enough to keep her mind off her anxiety about the pregnancy.

Worse, Dr. Crosby had said Pia’s stress would adversely affect the baby. He’d done some research on the web since then that had confirmed it—he needed Pia to be as relaxed as possible. The only times he’d seen her anywhere near being relaxed was when she created things with ribbon, wire and fabric. She got into a rhythm and her shoulders lost some of their tension.

He glanced across at his diary. The only appointments he had for the rest of the day were with people who worked for him—easy enough to reschedule. He picked up his briefcase and strode out to his personal assistant’s desk.

“Mandy, clear my calendar for the rest of the day.”

Displaying the efficiency and calmness he’d hired her for, she didn’t bat an eyelash. “Certainly, Mr. Hartley. Will you be back?”

“Not this afternoon.” He hit the elevator’s down arrow. “You’ll be able to reach me on my cell if you need to.”

Once he was in the basement garage, he pulled out his phone and checked for the location of the closest millinery supplies shop, and by the time he reached Pia’s apartment, he had three bags of assorted products.

He buzzed the intercom and waited for her to release the lock to the outside door. He’d suggested she give him a key, but she’d been less than enthusiastic—citing reasons like the short length of his stay.

Truth was, she was keeping him at arm’s length and that wasn’t a bad strategy given that every moment he was in her apartment he wanted to take her in his arms and back her over to that bed in her room. Or the table. Or the wall. Most times, he wasn’t fussy. He simply wanted her with an intensity that was difficult to hide.

But he had pretty much kept it under wraps for the same reason she’d refused him a key—he wasn’t prepared to be lulled into any false states of security, and letting down his guard.

When Pia opened the apartment door, her gaze dropped to the bags. Her hair fell in waves about her shoulders and as she tucked some behind her ears, the elegant, pale skin of her cheek was exposed. A slow burn began down low.

He cleared his throat and handed one of the bags over. “I thought you could use these.”

As she opened the handles, her eyes flicked to his, wide with surprise. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Dragging his gaze from the radiance in her eyes, he shrugged and handed her the other bags. “You’re stuck here all day.

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