Free Affair with the Rebel Heiress by Emily McKay

craved for so long.
    What about Ford? What kind of father would he be? She bet he’d be the kind of dad who coached Little League and charmed all the teachers into rounding up his kids’ grades. He’d spend too much on birthday presents, and…
    Whoa. Where had all that come from? Wondering what kind of father Ford would make was the last thing she should be worrying about. It was a completely absurd exercise. Like wondering whether or not the tooth fairy was ticklish. Ford was Mr. Not-Willing-to-Be-Whipped.
    There was no way he’d be interested in coaching Little League. This morning, he’d given her the perfect opportunity to tell him about the baby, but she’d balked. She hadn’t exactly lied, but she hadn’t told him the truth, either. And she suspected it had less to do with her mental defenses than it did with the possibility that she already knew how he’d react.
    Ford wasn’t looking for long term. Not with her. Not with a child. When he found out the truth, he would cut and run.
    At least, dear God, she hoped he would. She could only pray he wouldn’t do something noble like offer to marry her.
    She’d been a burden all her life. For once in her life, she wanted to pull her own weight.
    Yes, being pregnant now was inconvenient, what with everything that was going on at Biedermann’s.But it didn’t have to be a bad thing. Not at all. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. She could be a good mother. She could do this. This was one dream that would not be snatched away from her.
    True, she’d probably never be able to run Biedermann’s the way she’d dreamed of. But being a failure as a CEO didn’t mean she’d also be a failure as a mother. After all, her father had been a fantastic CEO, but a less than stellar parent. That was proof enough, if she needed it, that the two jobs didn’t require the same skills. It came down to this: she’d have to be a good parent, because she was likely to be the only parent her child ever knew.
     
    Whenever he and Jonathon traveled together, they got a hotel suite. The combined living space always made it easier to have teleconferences with Matt and to work late in the evenings. It was an arrangement that had worked well. And Jonathon certainly didn’t care that Ford was returning to the hotel, having obviously been out all night. And had he slept with any other woman, Ford would have kept his mouth shut.
    But Kitty was not any other woman. This morning she’d seemed fine. But the truth was, he had no idea what she was really feeling. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he’d screwed things up. And if he had blown this deal because he couldn’t stop thinking with a certain male part, then Jonathon deserved to know the truth.
    “I made a mistake,” he admitted as soon as he walked into the hotel suite.
    Jonathan didn’t even bother looking up from his laptop. A fruit plate and a bowl of oatmeal sat untouched beside his computer. “That’s never a good announcement at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But you’re a big boy. I’m sure you can handle it.”
    “I slept with Kitty.”
    Jonathon’s head snapped up. “Kitty Biedermann?”
    “It was stupid, I know,” he admitted.
    A pot of coffee and a couple of cups sat untouched on the room service tray, so he poured himself a cup. He looked up to see Jonathon with a bemused half smile on his face.
    “We just got here. That’s fast, even for you.” When Ford didn’t answer, Jonathon’s smile morphed into a contemplative squint. “That’s not it, is it? You knew her already.”
    “I did. We met in Texas about two months ago.” He took a sip of the coffee, relishing the heat as it burned its way down his throat. A stiff drink was what he really wanted for a conversation like this. Scalding hot coffee wasn’t a bad second, though.
    Jonathon studied him for a long moment, absently popping a grape in his mouth as he did. “You were the one who wanted to buy out