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High-Society Secret Pregnancy / Front Page Engagement: High-Society Secret Pregnancy
Laura Wright
Maureen Child
High-Society Secret Pregnancy - Maureen ChildManhattan millionaire Max Rolland didn’t do relationships…until his one-night stand turned up pregnant. Max knew the baby couldn’t be his, but he offered marriage anyway. For one year. He’d get his heir and a sexy bed-mate. But before the ink was dry, Max was wondering if he’d want more from Julia…Front Page Engagement - Laura Wright Millionaire media mogul Trent Tanford had one week to find a wife…or lose his empire. But none of his current Manhattan flings met his father’s stringent standards. Then Trent noticed the innocent house-sitter next door, Carrie Gray. But he’d never spoken a word to Carrie…How was he going to ask, “Will you marry me?”PARK AVENUE SCANDALS 721 Park Avenue – the ultimate address for high-price secrets!
High-Society Secret Pregnancy by Maureen Child
721 SECRETS
Keeping you up to date on all that goes on at Manhattan’s most elite address!
Heiress To Produce An Heir…
It looks as if 721 Park Avenue’s society princess, Julia Prentice, is finally taking the wedding plunge. But the real surprise is the groom—Max Rolland! Could the Prentice family actually be allowing their blueblooded daughter to marry a man who came from nothing? Of course Max has become one of Wall Street’s wealthiest whizzes. Sources say that the differences in their upbringings all fell away once the two hit the sheets. Perhaps precaution even went out the window, as rumours are circulating that our socialite is expecting. But didn’t we once hear that Max couldn’t father a child? Was that a lie, or is the baby-to-be’s paternity about to be put to the test? And now with the buzz surrounding former 721 resident Marie Endicott’s death, you never really know what’s reality…and what’s a huge cover-up!
Front Page Engagement by Laura Wright
721 SECRETS
Keeping you up to date on all that goes on at Manhattan’s most elite address!
A Marriage Proposition?
They say hate is one step away from love. It must be true in the case of 721 Park Avenue’s twelfthfloor residents Trent Tanford and Carrie Gray. Around the building, Carrie has been known to gripe about her next-door neighbour’s late-night bimbos who mistakenly knock on her door while looking for the millionaire playboy. Now rumour has it Trent may be ready to propose. We can’t wait to see mousy Carrie tame the wild beast! Coincidentally, the senior Mr Tanford is just about to retire from AMS, his media holdings. Could it be Trent thinks marriage will win him the CEO slot? And what does Ms Gray get in the alleged deal? Just the sexiest, hottest lover this building has ever known. If this “merger” goes through, Maintenance will be called up to the twelfth floor to turn down the heat. But at 721, you’re never sure what’s rumour, what’s scandal and what’s the white-hot truth!
Available in October 2009 from Mills & Boon® Desire™
High-Society Secret Pregnancy by Maureen Child & Front Page Engagement by Laura Wright
Spaniard’s Seduction by Tessa Radley & Cole’s Red-Hot Pursuit by Brenda Jackson
Claiming His Runaway Bride by Yvonne Lindsay & High-Stakes Passion by Juliet Burns
HIGH-SOCIETY SECRET PREGNANCY
BY
MAUREEN CHILD
FRONT PAGE ENGAGEMENT
BY
LAURA WRIGHT
MILLS & BOON
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)
HIGH-SOCIETY SECRET PREGNANCY
Maureen Child is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur.
Dear Reader,
Whenever I’m invited to take part in a continuity series for Desire
, I’m eager to jump in. This time was no different.
The chance to work with authors such as Laura Wright, Jennifer Lewis, Barbara Dunlop, Emilie Rose and Anna DePalo was not only exciting, but fun. The e-mails fly fast and furiously between the continuity authors as we work out details for our stories. We talk about everything, from the kind of clothing one character wears to the way another one speaks.
Six women, each of us with different writing styles, working together to build a world we hope will tempt you, the reader, into entering the lives of the people who live at 721 Park Avenue.
In my story, you’ll meet Max Rolland, a self-made billionaire who can’t seem to get Julia Prentice out of his mind. One night of passion has sent these two on a path neither of them expected—but one that neither will turn away from.
So join us on Park Avenue, in the heart of New York, one of the world’s most exciting cities. Surround yourself with the passion and lies and deceptions and, finally, surrender to the love.
Happy reading!
Maureen
For Alicia Estrada, as she starts off on the biggest adventure there is. You’ve been a joy all of your life, Alicia, now I wish you that same joy in the brand-new world you’re entering.
One
“Damn it, Julia, answer the phone,” the deep voice growled into the answering machine, and Julia Prentice winced when the caller hung up a moment later.
She’d been dodging Max Rolland’s phone calls for two months now, and he still hadn’t given up and gone away. Not that he was stalker material or anything, Julia reassured herself. No, he was just an angry male looking for an explanation of why she’d been refusing his calls since their one amazingly sexy night together.
The reason was simple, of course. She hadn’t been able to think of a way to tell him she was pregnant.
“Whoa.” Julia’s roommate and best friend, Amanda Crawford, event planner extraordinaire, walked out of her bedroom. “He sounds royally pissed off.”
“I know.” Julia sighed. And she could even admit that Max had a right to be angry. She would have been, too, if she’d been in his shoes.
Amanda crossed to her, gave her a brief hug, then said, “You’ve got to tell him about the baby.”
Sounded good in theory, Julia thought as she dropped into the closest chair. She looked up at her friend and saw the gleam of sympathy in Amanda’s gray eyes. “How’m I supposed to do that?”
“Just say the words.” Amanda sat down, making their gazes level, which she pretty much had to do all the time. Julia was short, at five feet two inches, and Amanda was eight inches taller. Built like a model, Amanda had short, choppy blond hair, beautiful gray eyes and a loyal heart.
“Easier said than done,” Julia said, smoothing one hand over the sharp crease in her pale green linen slacks.
“You can’t wait forever, honey,” Amanda told her. “Sooner or later, you’re going to show.”
“Believe me,” Julia said, “I know. But that night I spent with him was an aberration. I mean, things got all hot and heavy so quickly I didn’t have time to think and then the deed was done and Max was telling me he wasn’t interested in anything more than a mutually satisfying sexual relationship.”
“Idiot,” Amanda offered.
“Thanks for that.” Julia smiled. “Anyway it seemed that that was the end of it, you know? Max wanted uncomplicated sex and I wanted more.”
“Of course you did.”
She dropped her head against the chair back and stared up at the ceiling. “Now everything’s different and I don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, you do. You just don’t want to do it.”
“I suppose.” Blowing out a breath, Julia said, “He deserves to know about the baby.”
“Yep.”
“Fine. I’ll tell him tomorrow.” Decision made, Julia actually felt a little better about things. After all, it wasn’t as if she was going to ask Max to be involved in his child’s life or even to pay child support. She could afford to raise her baby on her own. So, all she had to do was break the news of impending fatherhood, then let him off the proverbial hook.
“Why have I been obsessing about this?”
“Because you’re you,” Amanda said, smiling. She gave her friend’s knee a pat. “You overthink everything, honey. You always have.”
“Well,” Julia said wryly, “don’t I sound exciting?”
Amanda laughed. “Hey, don’t knock it. You overthink and I act on impulse too often. We’ve all got our crosses to bear.”
“True. And it’s time to pick up yet another cross.” Julia pushed herself out of the chair, then tugged at the hem of her white linen blouse. “I’ve got to go to that residents’ meeting.”
“Lucky you.”
“I really wish you could come with me,” she said.
“Not me, thanks,” Amanda countered. “I’m meeting a friend for dinner, where I will have a lot more fun than you will tonight. Personally, I’m glad to be only a roommate, with no place at those meetings. I’d be bored to tears in ten minutes.”
Sighing, Julia said, “Five.”
Julia checked the slim, gold watch on her wrist and just barely managed to stifle a sigh. The residents’ meeting in Vivian Vannick-Smythe’s apartment hadn’t even started, and already she was wishing she could leave.
She felt as though her insides were twisted into taut knots that kept getting tighter. Despite that talk with Amanda, the tension gripping Julia felt as tight as ever. She could hardly remember ever feeling calm.
This whole thing with Max had gone on too long. She was just going to have to face him and tell him the truth. Tomorrow, she promised herself, she would call him, arrange to meet and drop the bombshell in his lap. Then, duty done, she could go back to her life secure in the knowledge that a man so dead set on avoiding any kind of emotional attachment wouldn’t be bothering her again.
“You look bored,” a soft, female voice said from beside her.
Julia smiled in spite of her thoughts and shifted a glance at Carrie Gray. The woman’s green eyes were hidden behind a pair of too-practical glasses, and her long, chestnut hair was pulled into a high ponytail at the back of her head. She wore jeans, a T-shirt and sandals that showed off a dark red pedicure. Carrie was officially a house sitter for Prince Sebastian Stone in 12B, but she was also a talented—though currently unemployed—graphic designer and a good friend.
“Not bored,” Julia whispered, leaning toward her, “just preoccupied.”
Hard to keep your mind on what was happening in the apartment building when it was already focused on something far more profound. Far more personal.
“Anything I can do to help?” Carrie asked.
“No,” Julia said, knowing no one but her could handle the situation she found herself in. Still, she added, “Thanks, anyway. I appreciate it. Anything new with you?”
“Just working. Or trying to,” Carrie grumbled.
Julia smiled, instantly understanding. “Still getting Trent’s drop-bys?”
Carrie rolled her eyes, pushed her glasses up to rest on top of her head and said, “It’s a nightmare, Julia. Trent Tanford must spend every spare minute trolling for women, because they’re trooping down my hall night and day.”
Trent was a notorious playboy. A favorite of the gossip rags, he had a new woman every other day. And those women continually made their way to 721 Park Avenue.
“I swear,” Carrie said in a hiss, “these women are all looks, no brains. They keep ringing my doorbell, thinking it’s Trent’s place. What? They can’t tell the difference between 12B and 12C? Tanford doesn’t date women who can read?”
Chuckling, Julia just patted her friend’s hand and turned back to listen to the rest of the meeting. At least half listen. Hard to concentrate on resident business when her mind was racing in circles.
Julia glanced around 12A, the Vannick-Smythe apartment, and as always, couldn’t find an ounce of taste in the place. Everything was cluttered to the point of chaos. It was so gaudy, Julia’s eyes hurt just looking around. So expensively tacky, it was impossible to get comfortable there. Which was probably a good thing. Since no one was at ease in the apartment, these terminally boring meetings never seemed to last long.
Just at that moment, Vivian Vannick-Smythe herself, the de facto leader of the residents’ group—since no one else wanted the job—clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. In her early sixties, Vivian had been Botoxed within an inch of her life and as a result, her thin face was nearly expressionless. Only her icy blue eyes snapped with emotion. She was very thin, dressed in stylish, classic lines, had short, elegantly cut silver hair and the bearing of a military officer.
Thankfully, tonight Vivian had corralled her two shih tzus, Louis and Neiman, in her bedroom. But even the heavy door separating the twin terrors from the meeting didn’t completely muffle their frantic barks and yips.
“I thought,” Vivian said once she had everyone’s attention, “that before we actually begin the meeting, we should have a moment or two of silence for Marie Endicott. I didn’t know her well myself, but she was, however briefly, one of us.”
Obediently, the restive room fell silent as each of them supposedly focused on the death only the week before of a young woman who’d lived in the building. Julia and Marie had been no more than nodding acquaintances, but Marie’s death in a fall from the roof had made quite an impact on everyone’s lives.
Newspaper and television reporters had been staking out the front of the building for days, harassing residents, scrambling for quotes or, better yet, some hint of scandal.
“Do we have any more information on what exactly happened to her?” Tessa Banks, a slender blonde, was the first to speak after the silence.
“Good question.” Elizabeth Wellington spoke up next. “I actually heard a few of the reporters saying that the police think Marie might have been pushed off the roof.”
“That’s just speculation,” Vivian assured her.
“Did anyone find a suicide note?” Carrie called out.
“Not that I know of,” Vivian said, frowning a little. “The police aren’t very forthcoming with information, after all. But I’m sure none of us has anything to worry about and soon enough, this tragedy will be supplanted in the news with something else.”
True enough, Julia thought as her fellow residents continued to talk and wonder aloud about Marie Endicott. In a few days, the reporters would give up and go away and life would go back to the ordinary.
Well, not for her.
“I have a couple of other announcements,” Vivian proclaimed, her voice easily carrying over the rumble of mixed conversations. “I’m sorry to tell you all that Senator and Mrs. Kendrick, long-time residents of 721, have moved. I’m not sure where, but I believe they’re somewhere in the city. Their co-op is officially for sale.”
More rumbling, more conversations, and Julia slid her glance across the small crowd gathered there. Gage Lattimer sat off by himself, no surprise there. A tall, gorgeous man, he rarely attended these meetings and when he did, as now, he didn’t mingle.
Reed Wellington, Elizabeth’s husband, sat beside her, but his scowl made it clear he wasn’t happy to be there. Elizabeth, too, was holding herself stiffly, her body language declaring she’d rather be anywhere else.
Tessa was tapping the toe of her shoe against the carpet, and even Carrie, beside Julia, was beginning to fidget. Julia, though, had been trained by enough nannies to know how to sit still when you wanted to move. To know how to keep your emotions from showing on your face. To know how to bottle up everything inside, where no one could see.
“Just one more item now, if you’ll all give me your attention,” Vivian said. “I have an announcement. It’s very exciting and I’m sure you’ll all be as pleased as I was to hear.” She waited until everyone was focused on her before she gave them all a tight smile and said, “I’ve recently been informed that our home—721 Park Avenue—is up for Historical Landmark status!” She waited for a buzz of excitement that didn’t come, then frowning, said, “I think we should have a party to celebrate!”
As Vivian moved around the room, talking to people, trying to spur enthusiasm for her celebration, Julia edged her way to the door. Carrie had already beaten her to a quick exit, but Julia would be right behind her.
