Pregnant with the Billionaire's Baby

She looked back at him beneath lowered—guarded?— lashes. ‘There really isn’t anything interesting to tell,’ she claimed.

Sin’s mouth quirked. ‘I somehow doubt that very much,’ he contradicted.

She straightened, her breasts thrusting forward as she moved one of her hands and lifted the heavy weight of her hair back over her shoulder, once again drawing Sin’s appreciative gaze to the bare expanse of her throat and the swell of those creamy breasts against the red silk.

‘You first,’ she said.

He shrugged wide shoulders. ‘Like you, there isn’t anything of interest to tell.’

She gave a rueful smile. ‘And, like you, I doubt that very much!’

Sin smiled appreciatively at how neatly she had turned the conversation back onto him. ‘Well, I’m obviously American. As were my parents. And their parents before them,’ he added dryly.

She nodded. ‘Are you an only child, or do you have siblings?’

‘Only child. Only grandson, too,’ he expanded as he found himself drawn into sitting beside her on the sofa despite his previous decision not to do so.

‘Wow.’ She grimaced. ‘So, no pressure, then?’

Sin smiled in spite of himself. ‘As you say, no pressure,’ he drawled even as he reached out to pick up a tendril of her long blue-black hair, loving the silky feel of it as he curled it around one of his fingers.

He breathed in the heady scent of her perfume, his senses already aroused by her exotic beauty and the kiss they had shared on the terrace. He knew he should have resisted getting too close to her again so soon after that kiss…

‘What brings you to London, Luccy?’ he asked in an attempt to clear his mind of passionate thoughts.

‘Like you, business,’ she said.

Sin nodded. ‘And what work do you do?’

She hesitated before answering. Sin was patently not going to tell her much about himself; despite the attraction between them, he obviously wasn’t interested in having a close relationship with her. So perhaps it would be better to limit the amount of information she gave him about herself. ‘I—why don’t you try and guess?’ she suggested lightly.

Sin smiled derisively. ‘I’m not really into guessing games.’

She regarded him quizzically. ‘Oh, come on, it could be fun.’

‘Okay.’ Sin couldn’t resist her mischievous expression. ‘A model, perhaps?’

She laughed softly. ‘Don’t they have to be tall and willowy?’

This woman might not be tall enough to be a model, Sin acknowledged, but she was certainly stunningly beautiful enough to be one.

He relaxed back against the sofa. ‘So not a model, then?’

‘No.’ She smiled.

Sin shook his head. ‘I somehow can’t see you in an office.’

Luccy frowned. ‘Why not?’

He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘If I had a secretary that looked like you I would never get any work done!’

‘Isn’t it a little chauvinistic of you to assume a woman has to be a secretary if she works in an office?’ she teased.

Sin gave a self-deprecating grimace. ‘Hmm, you have a point.’

Luccy’s earlier tension started to leave her as she realised she was quite enjoying this teasing conversation.

He shrugged. ‘Okay, so you work in an office…’

‘Actually, no, I don’t.’

He frowned. ‘Is it always this difficult to get a straight answer from you?’

Not usually, no, Luccy acknowledged ruefully. But she was loath to confide too much about herself. As well as her earlier concerns on a personal level, she doubted the management of PAN Cosmetics would appreciate it if the incident between herself and Paul Bridger ever became public knowledge. Jacob Sinclair, the owner of Sinclair Industries, was very strict concerning his policy of no bad publicity. So much so that it was actually written into employees’ contracts, including the one Luccy had signed with PAN Cosmetics the previous year.

Usually Luccy was completely professional when it came to her work—it really wasn’t her fault that men like Paul Bridger couldn’t behave in the same way!

And the situation she now found herself in? What woman in her right mind would manage to extricate herself from one potentially dangerous situation only to land herself in another one that could prove equally disastrous? In fact, more so, because Luccy hadn’t been attracted to Paul Bridger, whereas she was definitely attracted to Sin.

As that kiss outside on the terrace had proved…

‘Why are you so interested?’ She frowned at Sin’s persistence.

‘Because everything about you interests me,’ he drawled huskily.

Luccy felt the heat enter her cheeks as she easily read the expression in his eyes. This man didn’t just want to know about her—he wanted her!

She swallowed hard. ‘I’m a receptionist. To a photographer.’ Not completely untrue; she did act as her own receptionist on occasion, usually when Cathy was at lunch or off sick.

His brows rose. ‘Anyone I would have heard of?’

Only if she was very unlucky!

‘I doubt it,’ she dismissed.

‘And that guy earlier—’

‘Paul?’

Sin nodded. ‘You said he’s a work colleague?’

She had said that, hadn’t she? How complicated things became when you told just one little exaggeration of the truth!

She shrugged. ‘He’s more of a prospective client, actually. My boss is out of town so it was left to me to do the wining and dining this evening,’ she added lamely.

Sin nodded. ‘And do you have a husband, and possibly children, too, waiting for you at home?’ He was beginning to think that Luccy’s one-name introduction, and her aversion to talking about herself, showed all the classic signs of a married woman out for a night on the town.

Her mouth, that deliciously tempting mouth, curved into a rueful smile. ‘No husband, and certainly no children,’ she assured him.