One

Present Day

"Merry Christmas, I'm having a baby. Your baby," Brooke Garrison corrected the phrasing, wanting to get it just right before the father of her child walked through her office door.

Any second now.

She shifted behind her sleek metal desk from where she managed the family's Sands Condominium Development. She toyed with her hair. Longed for more peppermint ice cream—yes, she'd eaten a scoop with breakfast.

Damn. Time was ticking away faster than the blinking lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of her office, and she still didn't know the perfect way to tell Jordan about his impending fatherhood.

"I'm pregnant, and it's yours." She practiced another tact. "The birth control we used apparently failed. Probably when we were in the hot tub."

Hmm…She shook her head. Bad idea thinking about sharing a bath with Jordan. She swiped back a lock of hair that had slithered free from her French twist. As manager of Sands Condominium Development—a segment of the Garrison family empire—she should be more decisive than this.

Except nothing had ever been more important.

"I'm expecting." Expecting what? That sounded like FedEx should be showing up soon with a package. She kicked off her heels that had long ago started pinching her swollen feet, even without panty hose.

Thanks to her ever-present tan, a by-product of living in Miami's South Beach, she could go without stockings. And why was she thinking about clothing accessories?

Likely to avoid the subject that jangled her nerves.

She should have already prepared the flawless speech. The Garrison family perfectionist, never making waves, she was always organized. Not so much now.

Worst of all, there was no excuse for her lack of prep work. Once she'd dropped the pregnancy news bomb at the weekly family dinner, she'd known it was only a matter of time until word got out. Eventually her future brother-in-law, Emilio, would unwittingly say something to his own brother—and business partner.

Jordan Jefferies.

When her secretary had buzzed her with the news that her family's biggest business rival would like to see her, Brooke had known that eventually had arrived.

Sooooo, what about, "Remember that night five months ago after they read my father's will? When I actually indulged in three sips of wine?" Dumb move having any at all since she never drank for fear of being like her alcoholic mother. "And after that, we had wild monkey sex in a hotel room until—"

The door opened and her mouth closed.

Jordan didn't fling it wide or send it crashing against the wall. He didn't need to. The man in a gray pin-striped suit had the kind of presence that resonated through a room more than any echo of wood pounding wall. The diamond cuff links and tailored perfection of him contrasted with her memories of their raw, heated night together.

Six feet three inches tall, he nearly skimmed the mistletoe dangling from her door frame. As quietly as he entered, he closed the door behind him.

The lock snicked. She flinched. His baby kicked.

Jordan turned to face her and strode toward her desk, his handsome face an unreadable mask. As she took in his perfect blond hair, she resented her stubborn strand that wouldn't stay in place. He knelt briefly and straightened, coming back up with her shoes. A whiff of his aftershave drifted across the steel desk, sending her back to the morning she'd hugged a hotel pillow to inhale the scent of him. Before she'd left him sleeping.

"Hello, Brooke." He placed one shoe on her desk, but kept the other black leather pump cupped in his hand. "Don't bother getting up on my account."

"Since you have my shoes, I believe I'll keep my seat." And camouflage her burgeoning stomach behind the office furniture for a few more minutes. A technicality, sure, but it offered a semblance of control.

At least he wasn't shouting, but then he'd had time to absorb the news about her pregnancy. She just needed to be sure he knew—believed—the child was his.

An odd thought struck her. Could she have used telling the family—in front of his adopted brother—as a passive-aggressive way of getting the news to Jordan? While she considered herself a savvy businesswoman who earned her place in the family corporation, she had a reputation for avoiding all-out confrontations in her personal life.

Had she dodged a bullet? Or merely made matters worse? She tried to get a read off Jordan's expression, but he kept her shuttered out with his best executive poker face.

His thumb caressed the leather shoe—and, my, how she hated the way that simple gesture had her curling her toes against a shiver of longing for his hands on her again. It must be hormones. She'd read in one of the pregnancy books that the middle trimester brought an extra surge of sensuality, something she hadn't believed until this moment.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted. So much for a dignified speech. Definitely not a time to add Merry Christmas.

"So I hear." His blue eyes heated over her, unblinking.

"And it's yours."

"Of course."

Arrogant, sexy ass. All wishes to avoid confrontation slipped away as something unusually contrary snapped inside her. But then she never acted as expected around this man. "Why are you so sure?"

"Because you told me." He walked around the edge of the desk and set her shoe on the mouse pad. "I've doubled my father's fortune by knowing who to trust and who's a liar."

"You're awfully sure of yourself."

"I've never been wrong before, Brooke. I'm assuming it was during the hot tub. We got a little carried away then." His silky blue eyes oozed sensuality at just the mere mention of that steamy encounter.

Copyright © 2007 by Harlequin Books S.A.