Pregnant by the Billionaire (Billionaires & Babies Book 3)

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Pregnant by the Billionaire (Billionaires & Babies Book 3) Page 6

by Leslie North


  “Hello!” He beelined for Melissa’s mom, offering a hand, and then to her father. “My name is Donovan. It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

  Melissa’s parents introduced themselves, and her mom sent a very obvious wink over Donovan’s shoulder. Her mom was way too pleased with Donovan—exactly as she’d feared.

  “Now hang on a minute.” Donovan rested his hands on his hips, peering back and forth between her parents. He was using his charm full force right now, she could feel it. Practically smacked her in the face. “I recognize you two. You guys are…” He snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. This was all for show. “The Mesmerizing Bellinis!”

  Mom batted her eyelashes, playing the gracious part too well. Melissa bit back a smile. This was officially ridiculous.

  The three of them chattered about circus life and touring for a while, before Mom leaned forward, pawing at Donovan’s knee. “Now tell us what you do. Mel Belle told us you’re a work colleague. Is that so?”

  “Mel Belle told you that, did she?” Donovan swung his winning gaze her way, and she just blinked and crossed her legs.

  She cleared her throat. “Sure did. Donovan’s the lead in a show I’m producing. We’re going over the scripts for tomorrow.”

  “Scripts for the unscripted reality TV show,” her father moaned.

  “Dad,” Melissa chided.

  “You certainly look like the leading man,” her mom gushed. “Have you ever considered the circus?”

  “Mom,” Melissa said, the annoyance more than evident in her tone.

  “I’m just being honest. He has a very handsome face. If Mel Belle’s show doesn’t work out for you, honey, you’d always have a place in The Mesmerizing Bellinis.”

  There it was: the familiar rush of emotion once she’d reached her breaking point. She hated having to constantly defend her career. To prove to her parents that reality television was just as viable and valid as what they did. Maybe Donovan could sense the overwhelming emotion, because he responded quickly.

  “The show is already working out, actually. You both should be very proud of Melissa. She’s producing a real hit.”

  Her mom and dad murmured something quietly. Melissa swallowed the emotion that had cinched her throat tight and said, “I appreciate you two visiting. But Donovan and I have a lot of work to go over. We should really get started if we’re going to finish tonight.”

  Her mom sighed dramatically, coming to her feet. “Ah, well. I’m glad we got to see you at least. Can we get dinner tomorrow?”

  Melissa nodded, walking them both to the door. They both pressed quick kisses to her cheek in the doorway.

  “Marry that man,” her mom said in a low voice, searing her with a look.

  “Bye, honey,” her dad said.

  Melissa shut the door behind them, gripping the knob for a few extra moments once they’d gone.

  “So your parents are nice,” Donovan said a moment later. Something in his tone undid her. Laughter erupted from deep inside, and she collapsed into a fit of giggles. She leaned against the door until the wave passed, then made her way back to the couch.

  “Yeah. Nice is one word.” Melissa shook her head, sitting on the opposite end. Sitting too close to Donovan didn’t seem wise. She feared her body might take her attraction into its own hands. Might start rubbing up against him against her will or something. She couldn’t trust herself anymore. “Now you’ve seen them for yourself.”

  Donovan nodded, scooting an inch closer to her.

  “They’ve just turned me off to the limelight,” she went on, trying to ignore when he scooted toward her again a minute later.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Why are you coming over here?”

  “You’re so far away,” Donovan protested, bringing himself within kissing distance. “I can barely hear you all the way down there.”

  She fought a grin. His leg brushed hers, and warmth flooded her. Damn this man. Damn this spotlight-hungry god and all the ways in which he thrived on the very thing she wanted to stay away from.

  “Are you going deaf early?”

  “Maybe. We might need to test Donny Junior for it.”

  A snort escaped her. “Listen. Let’s stay on task.”

  “I am on task.” He gestured to the folders on the coffee table in front of them. “You’re the one hurling insults.”

  Another laugh escaped her. She hated how funny he was. How easy to get along with. Hated it as much as she loved it. “Saying you’re going deaf early is hardly an insult. It’s just something to bring up with your doctor.”

  “You know what I don’t need to bring up with my doctor?”

  She narrowed her eyes, already sensing where this was going. “What?”

  “Erectile dysfunction.”

  She fought the laughter as hard as she could, keeping her eyes slits. But the corners of her mouth tugged upward. Donovan watched her gleefully.

  “You know all about that, huh, Melly?” he went on.

  “Oh my God.” She shook her head, turning back to the folders. She whipped one open, struggling to ignore his words, the tempting heat at her side, the way she just wanted to fold into his arms and giggle and fuck until the sun came up. “Let’s focus.”

  “Fine.” He laced his fingers together.

  She paused, unsure where to begin. Donovan had managed something spectacular without knowing even the half of it. Usually when her parents came, she existed in a tense, dark cloud for a few hours afterward. He’d managed to dissolve it within seconds. That, at least, deserved a mention.

  “I’m really happy you showed up while they were here,” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “It’s not always easy for me to see them. You made it a lot better.”

  Donovan nodded, rubbing the small of her back. Part of her knew she should protest it, but the other part of her couldn’t bring herself to.

  “I really don’t like the spotlight,” she went on. “I know I’ve said that before. I’ve agreed to do this show, but as soon as it’s over, I need to be done.” She X-ed her hands through the air for emphasis. “That means the baby gets no air time either. For anything. We both fall off the map.”

  Donovan nodded, squeezing her hip. “Yeah. I get that. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you two are invisible.”

  Relief threaded through her, but it wasn’t complete. Something still lurked.

  It was the gnawing sense of disappointment.

  For so much of her adolescence, she’d pined for obscurity. For the comforting dullness of a plain husband and a boring life. She knew it was backwards, but her teenage hormones pushed her to rebel in the opposite direction of what she’d always known.

  Part of her, to this day, still wanted that plain partner and their quiet, boring life. Her life would never be boring as a television producer, but she could at least shoot for quiet.

  So why did she have to get knocked up by the loudest, most media-friendly man in her sphere?

  11

  Melissa ran her thumb over the face of her smartphone. She’d been contemplating calling Donovan for at least fifteen minutes now. Dying to send him a text. But too scared to learn the truth.

  Everyone was scattered around the house today, far flung and hidden. Donovan was nowhere to be seen, and a lot of the girls were missing, yet everyone was most definitely on set. Melissa worried they were off having an orgy somewhere. Or maybe that Donovan was getting closer to making the decision of who should be kicked off next.

  The footage told a strange story. Donovan wasn’t interacting with the girls much and made out with them only in front of the cameras when prompted by her or Frank. There were no nighttime shenanigans going on. No sordid love triangles coming to light. There was plenty of drama implicit in the show, however, since all the girls were primed and ready to win. But still. Melissa was scared to hope that she knew the reason why Donovan wasn’t acting the man whore part he’d promised.

  Could it be that he wanted Melissa?


  She refused to entertain the idea, hating that she even wanted to go there. Donovan was a hard no. Sure, he was a great guy. Sure, he was hot as hell. Sure, he was the father of her unborn child. That did not mean he was partner material. Being with him would mean a life in the limelight. And she knew better than to get mixed up in that.

  Melissa had been wandering the house for too long. She either needed to find Donovan or call him and end her agony. She wandered into the backyard. Nobody back here, either. The party shed caught her eye—she hadn’t checked there. She walked through the grass, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to remind herself to calm the hell down.

  It was just that waiting was the worst. Because the outcome was inevitable—Donovan choosing some other woman to be with, even if it was just for show.

  She shouldn’t want him. And she still believed that she could talk herself out of it.

  Melissa peered through the small windows of the party shed, squinting to see through the dirty pane. She rubbed an elbow against the glass. She couldn’t tell what was in there. Nose pressed to the glass, she jerked when a door to her right swung open.

  “Can I help you?”

  Donovan’s stern voice startled her, but she could hear the humor in his voice. She stumbled backwards.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “I always knew you were my secret stalker.” He stepped back from the doorframe, waving her through. “Come on. Get in here.”

  She stepped through the doorway, relieved to find that he was alone in there. Not surrounded by the other missing contestants. Not buried balls deep in anyone. Just blissfully, thankfully, alone.

  But what he was doing in here was another story. She knit her brow, looking at the seeming miles of toy train tracks crisscrossing the room. “What is going on in here?”

  “Welcome to my secret laboratory,” Donovan said. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black workout shorts. “You’ve discovered the geekiest thing about me. My toy train.”

  She blinked a few times, taking it all in. The tiny tracks twisted around miniature mountains with painted snow peaks, down through valleys full of artificial trees, through several villages with clustered old-timey houses and horse stables and tiny people with vibrant yellow hair.

  “Wow. This is incredible. I thought this was just your workout and party shed,” she said, unable to rip her gaze from the labyrinthine construction.

  “Yeah, well, this is another one of the off-limit spaces.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even tell you. And I wasn’t going to, until I saw you mashing your nose up against the window like a lost puppy.”

  “Hey,” she countered, “I came on real business matters.”

  “Yeah, right,” he shot back. “You just wanted to see my face again.”

  Ugh. She hated that he was sort of right. “Your ego knows no bounds.”

  “That’s why I got the show.”

  “Fine. It’s the show we need to talk about. We need to discuss—”

  The door creaked open, and both Melissa and Donovan turned to look. Jasmine poked her head inside, her normally suspicious yet picture-perfect pout turning into shock.

  “Hey, you two.” She laughed a little. “What the hell is this? A freaking kiddie paradise? Don’t tell me you made this for your kid already. It’s a little overboard.”

  Donovan’s eyes narrowed. Melissa knew it was time for damage control.

  “Can we help you?” she inquired pointedly.

  “I saw you disappear in here,” Jasmine said, “and I thought you might know where Donovan went. But I guess I found out. You two are always together. Makes me think there’s no point in the rest of us even competing.”

  “Jasmine, I’m the producer,” Melissa said, trying hard to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I’m creating the show.”

  “Kind of a lame show if the main guy won’t even hook up with anyone,” Jasmine said. “But whatever. What do I know?” She pursed her lips and walked away, leaving the door to the secret train room partially open.

  “Wow,” Melissa said. “I’m not sure where to begin. I came in here to ask you who we should kick off next—”

  “Her,” Donovan answered flatly.

  “Yeah.” Melissa rolled her lips inward, thinking about how to bring up the next topic. “So, you didn’t hook up with her?”

  Donovan shook his head.

  “But there was the footage of you guys going into the bathroom together.”

  “I wasn’t feeling it.” Donovan sniffed, crossing his arms.

  Melissa nodded, trying not to feel excited. Hopeful, even. These emotions had to be pregnancy-related, or else she was really losing her mind.

  “Well, luckily we can suggest enough to the audience with the footage we have.” She paused, measuring the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “But you’re going to have to do something eventually.”

  “Yeah.” Donovan fiddled with the controls of the toy train. “I know. I got it covered.”

  Melissa offered a small smile before letting herself out of his train sanctuary. She, maybe more than anyone else in their potential viewing audience, was waiting with bated breath for what Donovan would do next.

  12

  Donovan’s conversation with Melissa weighed on him the rest of the day. He needed to do something about it—about her. Let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted her to be the contestant he ended up with.

  Maybe it was the baby making him feel like this. But something had shifted. Deeply. It had started the day she’d first come over to his house. Maybe he’d still feel this way even without their unborn baby in the mix. It was hard to know. But it was real.

  Donovan jogged to her trailer that evening, before she was scheduled to head home. He knocked on the door, trying to ignore the pulse of anxiety in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Melissa pulled open the door a moment later, looking surprised.

  “What’s up, Donovan? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Can we talk for a minute?”

  She stepped aside, gesturing for him to step inside. She’d relocated her office from the sunroom to this portable trailer after being roped into the show. Donovan just suspected she wanted to get away from the drama as much as possible, even while fostering it. Her laptop sat open on her desk along the wall. The heading caught his eye. BEST BABY NAMES.

  Everything that had been poised to come out of him dissipated. He cocked a grin. “Were you looking at baby names?”

  She rolled her lips inward, hurrying to her laptop. She toggled to a different screen. “Well, it’s just a page that I had pulled up…”

  “We haven’t talked about this.” Possibilities flowed through him. Holy shit. They needed to start thinking about this now.

  “I know. It’s a big deal. It’s so overwhelming.”

  “Show me your favorites.” He pulled up a folding chair and sat next to her, jerking his chin toward the laptop. “Come on.”

  “I don’t have any yet.” She slumped against her chair. “All I know is our child will not be named Xander.”

  Donovan snorted. “Why? Family name?”

  “No. The asshole monkey we used to have in the Bellini show was named Xander. Tormented me the entire year before my twelfth birthday.”

  “Noted.” Donovan scrolled through the page a bit, glancing at names. “But I would like to at least have a dog named Xander.”

  “Never.”

  “Fine.” Donovan hummed while he looked at names. “Hey, what about this? Donovan.”

  “Ha ha,” Melissa remarked. “Very original.”

  “Oh, come on,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. He couldn’t be this close to her without touching her. “Donovan, Junior. It’ll be perfect.”

  “And if it’s a girl?”

  “Donovina.” When she snorted incredulously, he hurried to add, “Okay, so what about Rose?” He leaned back into the chair, shrugging. “That’s my g
randma’s name.”

  “But then it’s all your side. Shouldn’t my side get represented somehow?”

  “Xander,” Donovan said, unable to stop the grin from forming. Melissa thwacked his shoulder.

  “Not in a million years. What about Martha for a girl, or Gregor for a boy?”

  Donovan frowned. “Those aren’t particularly exciting.”

  “I didn’t see the ‘Particularly Exciting’ category on the baby name site,” Melissa cracked. “I’ll have to look harder.”

  The two settled in to looking through the names page again. After a lot of suggestions that were shot down, Melissa looked like she’d had it.

  “Okay. Let’s approach this from another angle.” She tapped a finger against her chin, that pretty pout in full force. “Let’s think. What does a baby bring?”

  “Responsibilities.”

  She smirked. “More than that.”

  “Late nights and diapers?”

  “Come on,” she urged him. “Think broader. A baby brings…healing, sometimes. Union. Happiness.”

  “Joy,” Donovan offered.

  Melissa’s face lit up. “There it is. Our baby girl is named Joy.”

  Donovan peered at her for a few moments, letting the suggestion settle in. It wasn’t half bad. And hell, she was right. This baby had already brought a lot of joy to his life.

  “I see where this is heading. But what if it’s a boy? Can we name him Responsibilities?”

  Melissa dissolved into laughter, and all he could do was smile and watch the show. He loved it when he reduced her to a helpless pile of laughs. It felt like a personal victory.

  “As attractive as that suggestion is,” Melissa said, “I still think we should try something else.” She went back to the browser, thumbing through names and pages. After a couple grunts and one “Ah ha!” she turned to him with a broad smile.

  “Gale,” she said. “We should name him Gale. If he’s a boy.”

  “Gale?” Donovan asked.

  “Yes. Do you know why? Because Gale means joy in Gaelic.”

  He nodded, studying the hopeful curve of her lips, the honey gleam of her hair, those big, brown eyes that always roped him in, no matter where he was, or what he was doing. Something shivered between them, and the answer was yes, but no words came to him. Instead, he leaned forward, claiming her lips with his own.

 

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