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Maternally Yours
Kathie DeNosky
Brett Connelly loved women–and he liked kids as much as the next guy. Still, the playboy tycoon wasn't about to trade his Jag for a minivan. Why, then, his sudden urge to rescue pregnant detective Elena Delgado?The fiercely independent Elena resisted his every advance, resented his every gesture. No matter that this sperm-bank baby was her last hope for motherhood…she wouldn't succumb to Brett's easy charm.Elena's sexy curves drove Brett crazy–and scared the heck out of him. For he feared the dainty detective and her baby-to-be might just be what it took to bring this playboy to his knees.
AROUND CHI-TOWN
News flash!
February: Even though new King Daniel is thoroughly ensconced in Altaria’s royal palace, the Connelly family is once again making Chicago headlines. Informed sources tell me that a female Special Investigative Unit detective has been seen in and around the Connelly offices and lakeside retreat. And she’s being squired about by Brett Connelly himself.
Does Chicago’s newest most eligible bachelor need a bodyguard? And just how much protection can the dainty Detective Delgado provide, anyway?
Emma Rosemere Connelly, the former princess of Altaria, denies reports that the investigation is somehow connected to the new royal family in her island homeland. But this reporter will search the globe to bring you the truth.
In another mystery, yours truly has been baffled that man-about-town Brett has been absent from the social scene of late. Well, now rumor has it that he bagged last night’s gala for a trip to Baby World, the area’s largest baby-supply store.
For a man who’s sported the city’s most glamorous women on his arm, he sure looks odd holding a gingham teddy bear. What gives, Brett? Is someone hiding your little secret?
Now there’s a case Detective Delgado can investigate!
Dear Reader,
Escape the winter doldrums by reading six new passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire!
Start with our MAN OF THE MONTH, The Playboy Sheikh, the latest SONS OF THE DESERT love story by bestselling author Alexandra Sellers. Also thrilling is the second title in our yearlong continuity series DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS. In Maternally Yours by Kathie DeNosky, a pleasure-seeking tycoon falls for a soon-to-be mom.
All you readers who’ve requested more titles in Cait London’s beloved TALLCHIEFS miniseries will delight in her smoldering Tallchief: The Hunter. And more great news for our loyal Desire readers—a brand-new five-book series featuring THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB, subtitled THE LAST BACHELOR, launches this month. In The Millionaire’s Pregnant Bride by Dixie Browning, passion erupts between an oil executive and secretary who marry for the sake of her unborn child.
A single-dad surgeon meets his match in Dr. Desirable, the second book of Kristi Gold’s MARRYING AN M.D. miniseries. And Kate Little’s Tall, Dark & Cranky is an enchanting contemporary version of Beauty and the Beast.
Indulge yourself with all six of these exhilarating love stories from Silhouette Desire!
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Maternally Yours
Kathie DeNosky
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KATHIE DENOSKY
lives in deep southern Illinois with her husband and three children. After reading and enjoying Silhouette books for many years, she is ecstatic about being able to share her stories with others as a Silhouette Desire author. Writing highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor, Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. She often starts her day at 2:00 a.m. so she can write without interruption, before the rest of the family is up and about. You may write to Kathie at: P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Il 62948-5264.
MEET THE CONNELLYS
Wealthy, Powerful and Rocked by Scandal, Betrayal…and Passion!
Who’s Who in Maternally Yours
Brett Connelly—This playboy’s not ready for the wife, 2.2 kids, the minivan and the white picket fence…or is he?
Elena Delgado—She’ll do anything to protect her unborn child.
Drew Connelly—Brett’s older twin—by fifteen minutes. He’s taught his younger bro a thing or two about life…and love.
Seth Connelly—He can argue any position in a court of law, but what’s this half brother’s place in the Connelly clan?
Emma and Grant Connelly—The former princess and brash American beat the odds. Their love match is thirty-five years old…and still going strong.
Jennifer Anderson—Emma’s personal secretary. She gives Elena a crash course on single motherhood.
Princess Catherine—Events in her kingdom of Altaria prevent her from visiting her American cousins.
Albert Dessage—Elena’s European counterpart; he’ll stop at nothing till he uncovers the betrayal and scandal in Altaria.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
One
Elena Delgado pressed a shaky hand to her stomach, took a deep breath and slowly got to her feet. She closed her eyes and leaned against the side of the rest room stall. The nausea wasn’t supposed to last all day. If it was, they would have called it something besides morning sickness. But she’d been ill almost from the instant the test stick turned blue.
She didn’t mind in the least. She’d gladly go through whatever it took to complete this pregnancy successfully. She bit her lower lip and took another deep breath. This was her last hope of having her own child, of holding it and loving it with every fiber of her being—she simply couldn’t afford another trip to the sperm bank. Not financially. Not emotionally.
When her stomach finally settled down, she pulled the door open and walked over to the vanity. The click of her black medium-heeled pumps striking the tiled floor echoed through the empty room. She shivered at the hollow loneliness of the sound.
Tears filled her eyes as she looked at herself in the mirror above the bank of sinks. She’d been alone all of her life. So why was she feeling so lonely now?
Disgusted with herself, Elena jerked paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and held them under the faucet, then pressed the cool wetness to her flushed cheeks. Her unstable emotions had to be caused by the hormonal changes from her pregnancy. That was the only thing it could be.
Otherwise Elena Delgado never cried. Ever.
She finished wiping away the last of the tears, draped her coat over her arm, then checked her watch. Groaning, she quickly grabbed her shoulder bag, said a silent prayer that her queasy stomach would remain calm for the next hour and walked out into the stylish reception area of Connelly Tower.
Heading for the elevators, she shook her head. She hated to be late for anything. It was rude and inconsiderate to keep people waiting. She shifted from one foot to the other as she impatiently waited for an elevator. Just one more slowdown in a day that had been filled with a series of delays and frustrations.
She’d awakened this morning to find that sometime during the night the ancient furnace in her building had finally given up the fight against Chicago’s cold, hard winters and died. It had taken her twice as long to get ready for work because she couldn’t stop shivering. Then she’d gone out to find that her car wouldn’t start, forcing her to walk six blocks in the frigid February temperature to catch the L.
The polished brass doors of the elevator finally swished open and Elena hurriedly stepped inside. She pressed the button to the seventeenth floor, and as it began to move, she closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. Express elevators should be outlawed, she decided as the rapid ascent played havoc with her already iffy stomach.
When it eased to a stop a few seconds later and the doors opened, she stepped out into the plushly carpeted corridor on shaky legs. After she met with Brett Connelly to arrange interviews with the rest of the Connelly family, she would spend the weekend trying to feel human again. But when she left, she would take the stairs.
Brett Connelly tapped the highly polished surface of his mahogany desk with his fountain pen. Glancing at his watch for the third time in as many minutes, he resumed staring out the window at the early-evening shadows covering Lake Michigan. He hated to be kept waiting. If the detective investigating the attempted murder of his older brother, Daniel, didn’t show up damned quick, Brett was calling it a day. Babe didn’t like him to be late getting home from work. In fact, he’d be lucky if she didn’t destroy some of his things to get back at him. She’d done that several times already.
The intercom on the corner of his desk suddenly buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. “Yes, Fiona?”
“Your four o’clock appointment has finally arrived, Mr. Connelly.”
“Thank you. Send her in.” As an afterthought, he added, “If you’d like, you can leave now.”
“Thank you, Mr. Connelly. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a nice weekend.”
“You, too, Fiona.”
Seconds later his office door opened, and a young woman with shoulder-length, tawny-brown hair walked into the room. Brett couldn’t keep from staring. This was the hotshot detective from the Special Investigative Unit of the Chicago Police Department?
Whoa, baby! He’d been expecting some middle-aged battle-ax who looked like a man and had a hard-as-nails attitude. Instead they’d sent a petite woman who had to be somewhere in her midtwenties and could put beauty queens to shame with her looks. He made a mental note to call and thank his father for assigning him the task of liaison between his family and the police.
Brett rose to his feet as his gaze zeroed in on her left hand to see if she wore a wedding band. She didn’t.
Sending a silent thank-you to the powers that be, he rounded the desk, treated her to his most charming smile—the smile that had kept his social calendar filled since his sophomore year in high school—and extended his hand. “I’m Brett Connelly, Vice President of Public Relations. And you are?”
She quickly shook his hand but didn’t return his smile. “I’m SIU Detective Elena Delgado. Sorry I’m late, Mr. Connelly.”
She wasn’t offering an explanation for her tardiness, and Brett wasn’t asking for one. He was too preoccupied with the tingling sensation running from his palm, up his arm and warming his chest.
“Since we’ll be working so closely together, please call me Brett, Ms. Delgado,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the silky skin on the back of her hand.
She dropped his hand, and the look she gave him indicated that she hadn’t been the least bit affected by his never-fail smile or his touch. At least not the way he’d been affected by hers.
“Shall we get down to business, Mr. Connelly?” she asked politely.
Her no-nonsense demeanor certainly went with her job. But it wasn’t often that he encountered a female he couldn’t charm. He took it as a personal challenge.
As she continued to gaze at him expectantly, he noticed something about her that had escaped him when she’d first entered the room. Elena Delgado looked tired. Very tired. Dark circles smudged the pale skin beneath her chocolate-brown eyes, and her voice sounded extremely weary. Maybe that had something to do with her no-nonsense attitude and refusal to use his first name.
Whatever the reason, something about her stoic demeanor urged him to take up the gauntlet and improve her mood. He checked his watch. It was dinnertime and he was already late getting home. Daniel and his wife, Erin, were safely hidden from any further attempts on Daniel’s life in the tiny island country of Altaria, so there was no immediate threat to his brother on that front. And Babe would treat him to the cold shoulder now, anyway. In fact, she’d probably already started destroying the living room. Being an hour or two later wouldn’t make much difference.
Besides, Elena looked as if she could use something to lift her spirits. What better way than spending an evening out on the town?
“I was just getting ready to leave for the day,” he said, walking over to remove his suit jacket from the brass coat tree in the corner. Shrugging into it, he reached for his leather overcoat. “Why don’t we discuss the details of the interviews over dinner?”
She shook her head, and if the expression on her lovely face was any indication, it wasn’t going to be easy changing her mind. “I’d rather not, Mr. Connelly.”
He wasn’t about to let that deter him. “I skipped breakfast and worked through lunch,” he said truthfully. “It’s dinnertime and I’m hungry.” He smiled. “And I’m betting you are, too.”
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble, making any protest she might have had ineffective. Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. He hadn’t seen a woman blush like that in years.
Brett chuckled. “Then it’s settled.” He pulled on his overcoat and placed his hand lightly at the small of her back to usher her to the door. “We’ll talk over dinner.”
She didn’t look happy, but Brett took it as a positive sign when she allowed him to steer her to the elevators. The swift ride down to the basement parking garage was a silent one and he began to wonder if he was losing his touch. By the time the doors opened, she looked positively miserable about being in his company.
“I’ll bring you back to pick up your car,” he said as they stepped out into the parking area.
“My car wouldn’t start this morning,” she said, sounding even more tired than before. “I took the L.”
“Well, you’re not taking it home,” he said emphatically. Police detective or not, he didn’t like the idea of a woman riding the elevated train alone at night. It just wasn’t safe. Before she could protest, he quickly led her to his black Jaguar and opened the passenger door. “Do you like Italian food?”
She practically collapsed into the bucket seat before she answered. “Yes, I normally love Italian food, but I don’t think it would be—”
“Good. Then Italian it is,” he said, closing the door. When she glanced up at him, he thought her complexion looked a little green. But he dismissed the notion. The fluorescent lights, combined with the shadows of the underground garage, cast an unnatural glow on everything. Walking around to the driver’s side, he opened the door and slid behind the wheel. “I know a great little place not far from here.”
She looked as if she intended to protest again, but when he started the car and backed from his parking spot, she clamped her mouth into a tight line, closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat.
Brett felt a twinge of guilt that he’d insisted they have dinner, when it was plain to see she was dead on her feet. But reason won out. She had to eat. This way she wouldn’t have to worry about cooking something for herself when she went home. Satisfied that he’d be doing her a favor by taking her to dinner, he steered the car out of the garage and into the flow of traffic on Michigan Avenue.
Ten minutes later he helped her out of her coat and held the chair while she settled herself at his usual table for two in a corner of the restaurant. Removing his overcoat, Brett hung both wraps on a nearby hook, then seated himself and stared at her over the flicker of a candle stuck in a Chianti bottle. She looked thoroughly exhausted.
“Why don’t we save this discussion until Monday morning?” he asked. “You look like you’re ready to drop.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. She extracted a notepad from her shoulder bag. “I’d like to get the preliminaries out of the way so I can get started with the interviews Monday morning. Have you been filled in on what I’ll need from you, Mr. Connelly?”
Brett leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he tried to get his mind back down to business and off of the erotic scenario her innocent question evoked. He could think of several very exciting things he’d like for Elena Delgado to “need” from him, but scheduling meetings with his family wasn’t among them.
Clearing his throat, he focused on the job his father had assigned him, which Brett had been eager to accept. He wanted nothing more than to get to the bottom of who had tried to kill his brother Daniel. “When Dad called, he said you wanted to interview the rest of the family to help with your investigation.”
She nodded. “That’s right. Your father told me you’d take care of setting up the times and place.”
He grinned. Being efficient and anticipating others’ needs were the very reasons he was considered one of the best PR men in the textile industry. “I’ve already got the jump on it. I’ve arranged for you to speak privately with each of them in a conference room at Connelly Tower, starting Monday.”
“Good.”
“But it may take several days to get all of them rounded up,” he warned her.
