CEO’s Secret Baby
Iona Rose
CEOs Secret Baby
Copyright © 2020 Iona Rose
The right of Iona Rose to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Publisher: SomeBooks
Contents
Author’s Note
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
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Coming Soon… Sample Chapters
About the Author
Also by Iona Rose
Author’s Note
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Chapter 1
Leah
“Leah…” Anne groaned. “Shut that thing off!”
I came to from my light doze. The crowing from my phone’s alarm finally pierced my subconscious. My eyelids lazily fluttered open.
“Leah!” She groaned again.
It took me a few more seconds to process what her complaint was about. I reached for the phone on the stool by my side and cut the ringing.
“We’ll burn, Leah,” Anne complained. “Set it for another half hour.”
I turned from my front, and rested on my back. I ignored her for a moment as I tried to recollect myself. My eyes opened fully then, squinting a little at the daylight’s sharp reception beyond the shade of our wicker parasol.
There were now hordes of people in the ocean and around the sandy beach, much more than had been present when we’d arrived about two hours earlier.
I picked up my phone, and reset the alarm.
Slender, but hostile hands reached out to repeatedly tap my arm. “Change the sound from that damn crowing cock. It’s driving me crazy.”
I turned my gaze to my pestering friend.
Laid out by my side in an orange gingham bikini, Anne’s blonde hair looked matted wildly on top of her head, akin to a bird’s nest. Her expression looked drowsy as her face contorted irritably.
“You’re becoming a nightmare,” I growled as I lifted my hands above my head. The stretch was almost magical, the creaks and soreness I hadn’t even been aware of smoothened out of my overly rested bones.
She sighed and went back to sleep.
I turned to the beach bed by my right, to see that the third member of our party was missing. “Where’s Tracy?” I drawled.
I didn't get a response so my gaze roved across the expansive stretch of sand and people, hoping to spot her one-piece Coca-Cola swimsuit somewhere amongst it all.
I had no luck, so I gave up and was about to shut my eyes when I heard her high-pitched call. I looked over at the shout.
Tracy was waving excitedly from the distance with one hand, while the other supported a basket of snacks as she headed over to us. Behind her was Mehmet, the genie from the beach’s snack bar we had acquainted ourselves with since our arrival two days earlier.
He was approaching with a tray of colorful fruit garnished cocktails.
This sight instantly made me sit up.
“Anne, I brought you a Mai Tai,” Tracy announced as she arrived. “Leah, the Hurricane’s for you.”
“Thank you,” I cheered as I reached out with both hands for the red gradient drink. “Thank you, Mehmet.” I smiled at the gaunt, bearded server.
“You’re welcome ma’am,” he said, his eyes lowered to the ground, his response was somewhat shy.
I couldn’t blame him. We were all half-naked.
I took a good long sip of the fruity rum punch, and it made me feel like I’d been resurrected from the dead. A moan escaped my throat, as I thanked the gods for a good life.
Tracy settled into her bed as Mehmet placed the remaining cocktail on the stool by her side. “Anne, I'm taking yours,” she said.
Our presumably sleeping friend got up instantly. With a sharp look at Tracy, she rounded our beds and picked up her drink. Then she grabbed some cookie packets from the basket, and returned to her corner.
It was amusing enough.
We all soon settled in, watching the vastness and flurry of activities beyond as we consumed our light refreshments.
“I want to lounge there tomorrow,” Tracy said.
I turned to see her longing gaze on the beds and parasols on the pier extended over the sea.
“Keep dreaming,” Anne said. “In order to get a spot there you have to be up at the crack of dawn to make the reservation.”
“I’ll do it,” Tracy said brightly and picked up her phone. “I’ll set the alarm for 6 am.”
Anne shared a look with me.
I couldn't help snorting with laughter into my drink. “We came here to get away from alarms, Tracy,” I said. “Not continue to set them.”
She was adamant. “Well, I want to lounge on the pier, so I'm going to get up to reserve it.”
“Good luck with that,” Anne said. “By the time we get back from Pirates today, who knows if we’ll even be able to walk.”
Tracy and I both turned to her.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We’re going back there?” Tracy complained.
“There’s a foam party tonight,” Anne replied. “The hot bartender told me.”
“Foam party?” Tracy spat, her
