Pregnant by the Billionaire

I scroll through the contract on my laptop. It’s probably a good idea to familiarize myself with it before the meeting. I read through it once, and then a second time, but I’m not grasping much. Darla is going to have to explain this to me.

But I get curious. Who is this man I’ll be meeting tomorrow? Who is Robert Cameron? I type his name into my search engine, and I’m not surprised to find a bunch of photos of him at various rich people events. The guy who started one of the fastest growing publishing companies in the country certainly deserves a lot of coverage. I enlarge the first photo, and I’m immediately struck by how gorgeous he is. Holy shit, this is him? Bright blue eyes stare at me underneath a comma of coal-black hair. He’s dressed in a perfectly-cut tux that shows off those broad shoulders and long, powerful legs.

I try to get my pounding heart under control. Staring at the perfect planes of Robert Cameron’s face like some love-struck teenage girl isn’t going to tell me about the guy I’m meeting tomorrow.

“Who are you?” I murmur breathily, mouse scrolling furiously. I switch to the articles instead, my eyes devouring the text.

“Wow,” I whisper to my computer screen. The first page I pull up is Mr. Cameron’s biography. He was abandoned as a baby and grew up in foster care. He built the company from the bottom up when he graduated from college and is now one of the richest men under thirty in the country.

I flip to another article about Robert Cameron. This one is a list of thirty women he dated in the past. Living outside of New York City, I know these tabloids can exaggerate when it comes to relationship alerts. The general consensus, though, is that the man is a playboy who’s never had a serious girlfriend in his life. It’s amazing that a guy who bounces from woman to woman can hold down a career and manage a company as awesome as Cameron Publishing, but I guess we’re all contradictory in some way or another.

Clearly, I’m out of my league. Because this man has accomplished a million different things, whereas I’m just plain old Elisa. A wannabe author. The girl with frizzy brown hair and curves that go on for days. Most guys don’t even see me. Their eyes skate by like I’m a piece of furniture.

So? The voice in my head says scornfully. It’s not like tomorrow’s a date. Tomorrow is where you meet a publisher who’s interested in your work. It’s a work meeting, Elisa. Get with it.

The voice is right, and I close my laptop ruefully. Trust me to get carried away. What woman wouldn’t, seeing those photos of Robert Cameron? But still, I have to stay in my zone. I’m there to negotiate a book deal… and not to lose my head over the most gorgeous man I’ve ever set eyes on.

3

Robert

Oh, shit. When Elisa Morgan walks into my office, I’m positive she’s an intern looking for a job. She looks that young.

“Hi,” the curvy brunette says shyly. “I’m Elisa.”

She holds out her hand, waiting for me to shake it. I hesitate for a second. My eyes are being drawn to her large breasts. I’d estimate them to be DDs. The dress she’s wearing accentuates her voluptuous figure. What I would give to dig my fingers into her delicious thighs while my tongue….

What the hell am I thinking? Good thing I’m behind a desk because my immediate hard-on would be visible. Yeah, I’m a fucking dog and won’t apologize for it. Besides, no woman has ever made me hard just by walking into my office. I could really get used to this.

But like a champ, I shake her hand like nothing’s wrong. “Nice to meet you,” are my smooth words. “I’m Robert.”

She smiles shyly again. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Please call me Robert,” comes my low voice.

The woman nods and awkwardly like she’s nervous. I sit back down in my leather chair, my groin well hidden by my mahogany desk. I will my erection to subside, but Elisa’s curves and her red, full lips are making that impossible.

“Please, sit,” I drawl casually, gesturing to the chairs across from my desk. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

That curvy form perches itself tentatively on the edge of a chair. “Of course,” the woman says, biting her lip. Oh, fuck. It makes her mouth rosy, and I’m so fucking aroused. “I’m so glad your editors liked my book.”

“I liked your book,” I growl, holding up a copy of the manuscript. “I’ll be honest with you, we have never had a manuscript this good come to us before. We’re hoping you’ll agree to sign our contract immediately.”

Elisa blushes and my cock twitches. What the hell? This is out of control, but something about Elisa’s presence is making me want to do a lot of things I’ve never done.