CEO's Pregnant Lover (3 page)

She gave her appearance a critical look and then shrugged. Her khaki skirt was full with extra material due to the pleats, and it fell almost to her ankles. Her button down shirt was a size too small for her breasts, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she only had five outfits that she deemed appropriate for a work environment.

She looked down and made a mental note to buff her shoes this evening, and hoped that she wouldn’t forget. They were a sensible brown leather, with flat-soles that made the trek from the light-rail stop to her small motel room bearable. Sighing, she closed her eyes and reminded herself that this was only temporary. Someday in the near future, money wouldn’t be so tight, she wouldn’t have to shop at the local thrift shop, or live in the run-down motel room across town. Someday things would get better, they just had to; there was nowhere left to go but up.

Shaking her head at her foolish wishes, she dabbed a bit of gloss on her lips, squared her shoulders, and headed out of the ladies room. She needed to make a good impression on the CEO and hoped that Mr. Coldwell was a patient man. She thought of heading outside to enjoy some sunshine, but then remembered Janet had mentioned a deadline this afternoon. She could enjoy her lunch outside another time.

Today, she pulled the key card from her pocket, and slid it through the elevator slot. She wasn’t sure what type of corrections needed made, but she wanted to prove to Janet that she could handle the job and decided that the peanut butter sandwich in her purse could wait.

When the elevator doors opened, Brianna slowly exited into a plush reception area complete with couches and chairs in small settings around the room. A large desk, complete with several filing cabinets and bookshelves, occupied one corner of the room and she approached it, assuming that was her work area.

Seeing the nameplate indicating that Pam Whistler sat there, she realized this was where she would be working. She placed her purse beneath the desk and then spied the neatly typed notes waiting on the desk. The office door behind her was slightly ajar and she debated momentarily about announcing her arrival, but then decided to peruse the notes first and get acquainted with her work area. He wasn’t expecting her until after lunch according to Janet, so she would take a few minutes and make sure she knew how everything worked. She didn’t want to appear incompetent on her first meeting with the CEO.

She immediately worked her way through the various passwords and computer program commands that Pam had left for her replacement. Brianna was grateful that the woman had been so thorough and found that all of her instructions worked perfectly.

Pulling up Mr. Coldwell’s calendar, she saw that he didn’t have any meetings scheduled for the afternoon. She looked at the office door and wondered again if she should knock and announce her presence, or if she should wait for him to exit.

Taking a look around the office, she saw the picture of the stately looking man hanging across the room and admired how nice he looked. She hoped that Mr. Coldwell’s personality was as nice as his picture. The silver haired gentleman had a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face that made her feel at home. He reminded her a little bit of her grandfather who had passed away when she was eight.

She looked over the notes again and located the one that discussed how to use the intercom system. Deciding that she would page him, she picked up the phone and pushed the correct series of buttons.

She heard the resulting beeping noise come from behind the partially closed door, but instead of someone answering the page, suddenly the door opened and she was looking into the face of the most gorgeous man she had ever encountered. A very irritated hunk of man to be precise!

Trent heard his phone paged from the front office and looking at the clock, stormed across his office to confront whoever was trespassing at Pam’s desk. If Chelsea had somehow convinced security to let her up to his office again, heads were going to roll. Chelsea was the latest in a long string of model-thin, high-society women that Trent had been dating. He had cancelled their date to the symphony last night, needing to concentrate on the upcoming acquisition. She had been less than pleased and he fully expected a tantrum from her the next time they met.

Normally, he would have Pam stop by the jewelry store and pick her up some appropriate bauble that said “I’m sorry” and “It’s been nice, but it’s over.” Pam always had excellent taste and didn’t mind spending his money. Often, she took great joy in telling him exactly how much she had spent.

He had dared to growl at her one time, and she had put him in his place by informing him that if he was going to tomcat around, and then expect somebody else to do the cleanup for him, he shouldn’t complain about the cost. Furthermore, she had informed him that he could always purchase these gifts himself.

Trent had immediately declined and apologized for complaining, something he didn’t do often. Pam had laughed outright at how hard it had been for him to apologize and told him he should probably practice saying that in the mirror each morning until it became easier. Trent had proceeded to growl at her again and the issue had been closed.

Throwing open the door, he anticipated facing a pouting Chelsea but instead encountered a young woman sitting behind Pam’s desk with the phone to her ear, looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her brown hair was pulled severely back into a bun at the nape of her neck, and while her skin appeared flawless, it was obvious that cosmetics were not something she was familiar with.

Her eyes were almost grey, she had a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her mouth looked soft and inviting. Trent took in the entire picture and decided that she was entirely average.

Her clothing was very non-descript and her neat button down shirt and khaki skirt spoke of thrift store, not Saks Fifth Avenue. She was very unassuming and normal looking. As he approached her, she quietly put the phone down and stood up, stumbling as she bumped up against the chair she hadn’t scooted back far enough. With a small gasp, she caught herself and rubbed a hand over her hip as she stood and moved away from the desk.

Trent’s eyes were drawn to where her hand rubbed along her hip, and he changed his opinion as he looked more closely at the young woman standing in front of him. Now that she was standing up, he realized that while her clothing was nothing spectacular, the figure she was hiding beneath the dull clothing certainly was. She was a little on the thin side, but Trent could tell her hips flared nicely and the curve of her ass was just visible underneath the folds of material that were masquerading as a piece of clothing.

Moving his eyes up, he couldn’t help but notice how her shirt strained to stay closed around her breasts, the shirt pulling at the button which lay right between them looking ready to pop. Her considerable charms were offset by the tiny waist and slender shoulders.

She was approximately 5’4” tall, short compared to his 6’5” height and unlike other women her age, she didn’t have three-inch heels on, attempting to lift her ass while making her appear taller. She had on the ugliest pair of brown flats he had ever seen.

“Who are you?” Trent asked, trying to curb the impatience in his voice. He needed to finish reviewing the contract before lunch so the new secretary could get it fixed before this afternoon. He did not need any interruptions. Clearly, security had misunderstood where this young charity case needed to go. She must have been looking for personnel, hoping to find an entry-level position in his company. Before he could act upon sending her back downstairs, she spoke up and he immediately stopped. The smoky quality of her soft voice had his body responding quicker than ever.

“Uhm..Janet.. I mean Mrs. Marshall sent me up here. She said you needed a replacement for Pam?”

Trent watched her as he slowly drew closer. She looked to be very young and unsure of herself. This was the secretary Janet had been telling him about? Had she seen this girl lately? “How old are you?”

Brianna swallowed and then drew herself up a little straighter, “I’m twenty-four, Sir.”

“Stop with the Sir crap,” Trent demanded. He hated being called Sir. It made him feel old, and having just celebrated his thirty-first birthday, he was not happy with any reminders of his age.

Brianna nodded,”Yes, Si…” Brianna stopped, not sure what to call him.

Trent smiled as she caught herself; she got one point for obedience. “The name’s Trent. Not Mr. Coldwell, just Trent.”

Brianna nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It seemed rather informal to call the CEO of such a large company by his first name. Maybe she would just call him Mr. Coldwell anyway. She felt much more comfortable with that title.

“I see you found Pam’s instructions?” Trent inquired as he stepped closer to the desk and her location. He immediately caught the scent of vanilla and cinnamon? He took another step closer and it was definitely cinnamon. Not a combination he would normally find appealing, but on her, it seemed to fit. Sweet with just a hint of spice hiding underneath.

He noticed that the closer he got, the more she seemed to move. She shifted her weight from one foot the other and he wondered if he made her nervous. Or maybe her body was responding to his nearness. His body certainly was.

Brianna watched him come closer and couldn’t stand still. Her hip was throbbing something terrible from her collision with the desk and she really wanted to rub it, but when she done that earlier his eyes had been drawn to her hips. The heat that she had seen flare in his eyes had her defenses up.

“I believe I asked a question that requires an answer Miss…?”

Brianna blushed as she realized she had forgotten to introduce herself. Trying to cover her mistake, she took a step towards him and held out her shaking hand, “Sorry. It’s Brianna. Brianna Daughtry, Mr. Coldwell.” This man was not the kind, gentle man whose picture hung across the office. He was a predator and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she attempted to hold his stare.

Trent took the proffered hand and felt the electrical current rush straight to his core. He had never responded so easily to a woman before. He briefly shook her hand and then let it go. “The name is Trent.” He held her stare, until she looked down and away, clearly nervous at his nearness.

Brianna was still trying to calm her racing heart when he reprimanded her word choice. Not responding immediately, she stared at him while her body tried to come to terms with the butterflies that had taken residence in her stomach. “Sorry, Mr. Coldwell. I mean…” shaking her head at her inability to form a proper sentence, she looked away and tried once again to formulate his name on her lips. “I’m sorry Mr…uhm.. Trent,” the last word coming out as a whisper.

“It’s just Trent. No Mr.”

Looking up at him, Brianna swallowed before quietly saying, “Trent.”

Trent gave her another pointed look, nodded his head, and then proceeded to pick up the sheaf of papers she had found lying on the desk. He flipped through them, noting that Pam had done a remarkable job as always. When Brianna continued to shift her weight from one foot to the other, he placed the papers back on the desk and turned to peruse her once more.

Trent wondered if she was always this quiet, but then decided it didn’t really matter. He didn’t plan to spend that much time talking with her anyway. He was just about to find out what her capabilities were when the phone on her desk began to ring.

When she just looked at it dumbly, Trent walked around the desk and answered it himself, holding her gaze as he did so, “Trent Coldwell.”

“Trent, I spoke with Brianna and she should be coming up soon. She left here about ten minutes ago and I sent her to lunch early so that she could help with your contract issues this afternoon.”

Trent nodded, “She’s standing in front of me now.”

Brianna blushed and looked away when she realized she was the focus of the conversation. Trent watched the blush rise in her cheeks and briefly wondered at it. He didn’t usually spend time with women who could still blush. It was a charming trait and he found himself envisioning all of the things he could do and say that would re-create it. He let his eyes drift down her neck and wondered if she turned that nice pink in other areas when she blushed.

Janet continued speaking, “I know she looks young, but she’s twenty-four and the best I’ve ever hired. Try to go easy on her for the first few days, and don’t growl too loud.”

Trent growled into the phone in response and then watched as Brianna’s eyes widened and she took a small step away from him. Mentally cursing himself, he tamped down on the urge to reach out and pull her back. He didn’t like the fact that she had moved away from him; especially since it appeared, she might be afraid of him. He didn’t like it one bit.

Trent growled a dismissal into the phone and replaced the receiver. Turning to look at her again, he asked, “I assume you’re here because Janet has every confidence that you can do the job correctly?”

Brianna nodded, and then licking her lips, tried for a verbal response, “Yes, Si… Trent. She mentioned that you have a contract that needs some items fixed before 3 o’clock today?”

Trent nodded, bringing his mind back to the task at hand, “Yes. I’ll send it out here shortly. I’m going to lunch, and since you’re already here, I’ll expect to see a finished copy on my desk when I return.”

Brianna watched Trent head for his office, not waiting for her to agree to have the document finished while he was at lunch. What if there were a lot of corrections, or she had trouble with the computer?

Several moments later, Trent left his office and found Brianna still standing where he had left her, rubbing her sore hip with her eyes closed and a slight firmness to her mouth. Did she injure herself?

Hearing him come back to the reception area, Brianna removed her hand from her hip and opened her eyes. She watched as he approached her with the document needing help. He moved like a panther stalking its prey. He had broad shoulders, and towered over her by almost a foot. As she moved her eyes downward, she caught a glimpse of a narrow waist, before she had to raise her eyes back up.