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  Accidental Pregnancy

  Mia Ford

  Copyright © 2019 by Mia Ford

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  If you are reading this book and book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Mia Ford 2019

  [email protected]

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Author’s Note

  Stay connected with Mia Ford

  Also by Mia Ford

  Author’s Note

  Accidental Pregnancy is a full-length standalone novel. At the end, I’ve included an excerpt from my Amazon TOP 100 Book Secret Desires.

  Accidental Pregnancy concludes at around 90% on your device.

  Happy Reading!

  XO, Mia Ford

  Blurb

  I fell in love with the enemy… and got her pregnant.

  This could probably be the biggest mistake of my life.

  Except that I don’t regret any of it.

  Amanda is beautiful.

  She’s with me for who I am… Not for my big bank account.

  I can’t keep my hands off her gorgeous curves.

  And my lips off her soft skin.

  She’s all I want.

  The problem?

  Her father who’s my biggest rival in business.

  He’ll do everything in his power to destroy what we have.

  But there’s one thing he has no control over.

  The baby that’s growing inside Amanda.

  I’m ready to risk it all… if that’s what it takes to claim my family.

  Chapter One

  Amanda

  The thump of the music, pounding through my body and driving everything else out, manages to finally settle the angry, rapid beat of my heart. I draw in a deep breath and cast all thoughts of my father from my mind.

  Only half an hour ago, I left the company that Alan Simmons, my father, once built from the ground up when he was a young man, the company that I should, by rights, take over one day if my father stopped being such a chauvinistic bastard. According to him, it’s alright if I just work there. Why does he need to train me? It isn’t like he’s stepping down any time soon.

  I scoff and knock back a shot of some sort of red alcohol; I’ve had enough by now that I really don’t care what I’m drinking anymore.

  “‘You’re only twenty-eight, why do you need to learn more about the company?’“ I say mockingly out loud, repeating the words my father had said to me earlier. I knock back another shot.

  “Because, Dad, I want to take it over one day!”

  At least he isn’t eyeing anyone else as a possible inheritor. If he did that, I might just give up and go over to Energy Plus Co., the company that is currently rivaling Tech Square Inc. in the technology and information field. A company which, my father doesn’t want to admit, is doing far better than ours.

  “A vodka and orange, please,” I say to the bartender, fishing some cash out of my wallet.

  The bartender raises an eyebrow at me, which tells me he’s probably close to cutting me off if I don’t scale back, and pours me what I’ve asked for. I don’t get this one down straight away, though; I nurse it in my hands for a moment, frowning down at the counter.

  It isn’t fair. Ever since I was a teenager, my entire goal has been Tech Square Inc. I studied business degrees in college, I learned everything I could about company maintenance and I even worked so well at the very bottom of the company when I first started that my father had no choice but to promote me. Now I’m one of the senior managers of the company, and my father still doesn’t seem to think I have what it takes to run it.

  I just don’t know why.

  I sip my drink, a morose mood settling over me. Every time I beg my father to teach me how the company is run, he refuses. Is he worried that I’ll want to take over sooner rather than later? I mean, it would be nice, sure, but I have no intention of stepping into the role until my father is ready to retire, regardless of how far away that is. I’ve told him that many times, but it’s something he doesn’t seem to want to hear.

  I glance out over the dance floor. There’s a press of moving bodies, packed tightly together until it’s hard to tell who knows who. I watch a girl twirl around with a young man before spinning toward another woman. They’re all laughing and having fun. I came to the club tonight in order to do the same, but the alcohol only seems to have made it more difficult to forget why I stormed here in the first place. A club like Grande isn’t a place I would normally come, but I needed to get away from everything.

  “Ugh,” I groan, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I sigh and glance at it. Of course the message is from my father.

  “Where are you?”

  I snort.

  “Out,” I text back.

  I don’t expect him to reply. He’s a man of few words, generally, and he doesn’t like texting so much, which is hilarious since he owns a company that deals with technology. He must have stopped by my apartment for some reason and discovered that I wasn’t there. Well, he can deal with it; I don’t want to talk to him or about the company anymore tonight.

  Now, to my surprise, my phone has vibrated with another message.

  “See me in the morning. I have a proposal.”

  I blink at the message. That’s…odd. Curiosity burns in me, but I know he won’t tell me via text, and I’m not calling him only for him to make snide comments about me getting drunk at a club. I push my phone back in my pocket after sending an “Ok” in response and frown.

  What was that all about? Has he actually thought about what I said and decided on something?

  Part of me wants to simply leave now to find him. But if my father actually is proposing to give me more responsibility, showing up with alcohol on my breath wouldn’t be a good idea. In fact, it would give him just the ammo he needs to change his mind.

  No, the best thing I can do is stop drinking (after this last drink, I decide after remembering that I’d just ordered one) and freshen up in the morning. He probably knows where I am, anyway, but I’m not going to give him proof.

  I don’t know what it’s all about. But I can’t help the excitement that’s building in me. This could be what I’ve been waiting for, a big break to prove to my father that I can handle the responsibility of one day running the company.

  I drain the last of my drink.

  “Any more?” the bartender asks.

  “No more,” I say cheerfully.

  The bartender nods and I slide off the stool. Common sense tells me I should probably leave the club now and get some sleep. But I’ve spent most of the night moping. Now I have something to celebrate. A little fun won’t hurt.

  I push my way onto the dancefloor. It’s packed and people are bumping into me as they move in the limited space they have. Drinks are sloshing on the floor, making it slippery as the pungent smell of alcohol fills the air. Someone bumps into me and the world tilts as I fall sideways.

  I don’t hit the ground, though. Arms catch me, preventing me from tumbling down. Surprised and grateful, I look up.

  The first thing I see is a gorgeous pair of hazel eyes on a male face. They glitter in the strobing lights, framed by long lashes. There’s bemusement in those eyes, and I pull back to take in my rescuer.

  If his eyes were amazing, the rest of him is even more so. He has the kind of model looks that I would expect to see in a magazine, with an angular face, straight nose and smooth chin. His brown hair flops over his head, styled in a way that accentuates his high cheekbones and almond eyes. He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt, though the top two buttons are undone to show the smooth chest beneath. His jeans are tight, fitting perfectly.

  He’s very, very hot.

  “Thank you!” I say, trying to shout over the music.

  He frowns and leans in, giving me a whiff of the musky cologne he must be wearing. It’s heady and I’m no longer sure if I feel light-head
ed because of the alcohol or because of him.

  “What?” he asks, his voice still sounding low despite shouting.

  “Thank you!” I say again.

  He blinks and then grins, hearing me this time. A smile suits him; it spreads across his face and lights up his features, making him even more attractive.

  “No worries!” he says. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine!” I shout.

  And I really am. I wasn’t hurt, but bumping into this man is definitely the highlight of the night. He grins at me again and turns to face me. I wonder who he’s with. He doesn’t seem concerned about any companions he may have.

  Now he’s moved in closer and started to move, bobbing up and down to start with to indicate that he wants to dance. I can’t help but laugh at his awkward movements, the sound lost in the beat of the music, but he laughs with me anyway, winking at me. I start to move as well, snapping my hips to the beat of the music and moving my feet in a simple pattern that makes my body sway. He attempts to copy me; however, as graceful as his lithe body looks, he has two left feet.

  I don’t mind. It’s amusing and he’s attractive enough to make up for a simple flaw. No one else cares, either; everyone is just moving on their own, hearing whatever beat and rhythm they wanted to.

  There is something about this man that is intriguing and intoxicating. I can’t help but stare at him, trailing my eyes over his body as he moves. I lean in toward him, suddenly wanting to know who he is; if I know, then maybe this connection I feel won’t have to end tonight.

  “I’m Amanda!” I shout.

  “What?” he shouts back.

  “Amanda!” I try again.

  “Who?” he asks, frowning.

  I laugh and gesture to myself. His expression clears and he waves his hand toward himself as well.

  “Lyle!” he shouts.

  Lyle. I look him over and smile. It feels good to know who he is. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but it feels as though meeting him here tonight is the reason I’m here. I wonder how I’ll feel about it in the morning.

  Then I decide that it doesn’t matter; right now, I’m with Lyle, and dancing with him makes me feel good. I’m happy and having fun; there’s a prospect of things getting better tomorrow and the thrumming music makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine. That’s all that’s really important at this moment.

  “Are you here with anyone?” I ask.

  “Nah!” he says. “You?”

  “Nope!” I say cheerfully.

  So, for whatever reason, we both came here alone. I push closer to Lyle, my hips brushing against his. The contact sends sparks of electricity through me, making me shiver. It’s hard not to imagine how this would feel if we weren’t separated by the thin barrier of our clothes. I can feel the way his muscles flex as he dances, and we’re pressed so tightly together that I can feel his quickly growing interest.

  Fuck, this feels good. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life than I do Lyle right now. I’ve always been so focused on my career and proving myself to my father that I never made time for myself to really look at others. A small voice in my mind tells me that this might be the alcohol talking and that I might end up regretting throwing myself at the first attractive stranger I saw, but I ignore it.

  Regrets or no regrets…none of it matters. Lyle is in front of me, moving with me and touching me, and that contact drives all other thoughts from my mind. I want him to keep touching me. I want to pull him away and ravish him until there are no other thoughts in his head but me.

  Lyle ducks his head down. Our lips are almost touching, his breath tingling against mine. It’s so intoxicating that my eyes flutter before I surge forward and kiss him hungrily, needing to taste him.

  He kisses back with equal fervor and I find myself pulled flush against him, my breasts pressed against his strong chest. I don’t care who can see us. I just want this. I’m aching so badly for Lyle that it’s almost painful to pull away from the kiss, gasping for air. I’m gratified to see the same naked lust in Lyle’s eyes; he wants me just as much as I want him.

  And neither of us can wait any longer.

  “Want to get out of here?” he asks, his voice low and rough. “I know a place nearby.”

  I should go home. My father wants to speak to me about something important in the morning, and I need to be presentable for that. Staying up all night with a stranger is not the way to show how responsible I am.

  But there is nothing in the world that could make me deny Lyle right now.

  “Sounds great,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Two

  Lyle

  On my way to Grande in the back of a taxi, I close my eyes briefly, trying to control my raging headache.

  I’ve only just left work. Part of me just wants to run away from it all and forget about all the problems I’m leaving behind, but I know I can’t do that. Energy Plus Co. is a legacy that my parents left behind two years ago after they passed away in a car crash. Whether or not I was ready to have the responsibility of the company foisted on my shoulders didn’t matter; it’s mine now, whether I like it or not.

  And, honestly, I’m normally okay with everything. I enjoy the day-to-day running of the company and interacting with my employees. I like discussing new ideas. When I was a teenager, I never would have expected that I’d be running a billion-dollar company by the time I was thirty-four, but I’m happy doing it.

  Yes, everything will be fine…if it wasn’t for Alan Simmons.

  I press my forehead against the cool window, scowling. That man is going to be the fucking death of me, I swear. It isn’t my fault that my company is larger and more popular than his. Having two technology-based companies in the one city was always going to cause drama when one inevitably won out over the other.

  I’m thinking about the contract that’s currently on my desk. I’m not stupid. I’m not going to fight against someone when it just means losing out. In fact, just three days ago, I started a proposal with Alan; if we work together, we could further both our prospects. I’ve been interested for some time, in branching into the field of cell phones, a device that everyone uses. If Energy Plus Co. and Tech Square Inc. combine their resources, we should be able to make a device that tops anything else in the current market.

  I have a feeling, though, that it’s not going to happen. Alan Simmons is stubborn to a fault; it was hard enough for my parents to work with him, and he at least respected them. As for me, he just looks down on me as a young interloper who doesn’t deserve to be where I am.

  When I first took over the company two years ago, I might have agreed with him. But I’ve worked damn hard since then. I’ve more than earned my place by now.

  My people are already prepared to have to work on this project alone, at least, but I still believe we’d get further with the help of Tech Square Inc., and I really had hoped that Alan would have seen the benefits of a strategic alliance between us. It’s frustrating to know, however, that no matter what I propose, nothing will be good enough for him.

  I think back to the last message I got of the day, before I left work. It had been from Alan, picked up on voicemail because most of my staff had gone home. I’d checked the phone before I left out of habit.

  “Tomorrow, I will send a representative to speak to you regarding this proposal,” Alan had said, his dry voice giving nothing away. “I hope we will be able to reach a profitable outcome.”

  So, the man can’t even come himself to talk to me. Well, screw him. If he wants to send a representative, I’ll send one of my employees to talk to them.