Billionaires & Babies: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

She gave a low hum as she sank into the water. Soon she was covered up to her shoulders, treading water, looking at him with eyes that said come here.

  “Maybe I do need you for my aquatic therapy.” Her voice came out husky, edged with desire. Yeah, she wanted it. “Doctor said so.”

  “She wrote me into the recommendations, did she?” Donovan shucked his briefs. He dove in and reached her with one strong kick under water. When he surfaced, their noses brushed, and she giggled. “I’m glad to help.” He smoothed his hands over the swell of her hip, jerking her closer, guiding her legs around his waist. “Therapy Donovan is here.”

  A giggle escaped her, and Donovan’s lips found the cool, damp hollow of her neck. Her head lolled back, and he held her tight against him, devouring her, claiming every inch of her that she offered up. The weight and feel of her against him was perfect—the type he didn’t want to let go of. He cupped her ass cheeks in his palms, giving them a big squeeze.

  “How’s the therapy working so far?”

  She hummed low, digging her fingernails into the top of his own ass cheeks. “I think there’s a real chance this could solve my problems.”

  His cock had been at attention since she shucked her clothes. His cockhead nudged for entrance, the heat of her pussy standing out even more against the cool water of the pool. He usually liked to take his time, but something about this felt urgent. Necessary. The guise of therapy only vaguely covered the fact that there was something that sparked deep and hot between them.

  Donovan pushed himself inside of her, the hot silk of her pussy making him grunt. A long, breathy sigh escaped her. Donovan filled her slowly, steadily, until he was buried balls deep. Even then, he wanted more of her. Wanted to go deeper, find a depth that couldn’t possibly be reached. He wanted to fill her and be filled with her.

  His mind spun as they fucked in the middle of the pool, the crystal blue waters sloshing around them as he drilled into her under the surface. Melissa clung to him, both helpless and complicit in his arms. He wanted this honey blonde in his arms way more often than he was getting her. Way more than she would allow.

  Melissa’s fingernails dug into his shoulders at the same time a low, throaty moan shuddered out of her. Her pussy clamped around him, and he thrust into her one last time, cock spasming as he filled her. The water sloshed choppily around them and then slowly stilled as Donovan swayed with Melissa in his arms.

  He slid himself out of her slowly, and she gave a weak laugh. “Now that’s what I call therapy.”

  Donovan dunked under the water, taking a few cleansing moments beneath the surface. When he broke the surface again, Melissa was nibbling on her lip.

  “I’m sorry for, I don’t know. Using you like this.”

  “Using me?”

  “Yeah. It’s just…these hormones. I’ve got an itch that needs to be scratched.” She sent him a coy smile. But he wasn’t falling for it. And he wasn’t letting her write it off as hormones alone.

  “But is that all it is?” He tried to keep his tone playful, but he couldn’t efface the tinge of curiosity behind his words. He wanted to know. “Is that what this is to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He sighed, suddenly irritated. “You know what I mean. This. What we do together. The fact that the only woman I want to sleep with is you. The reason why I’m not hooking up with anyone on the show. This.”

  His heart raced as his truth circulated out in the open air. He’d said it. And he hated how vulnerable it made him feel. As if she held all the cards and he couldn’t even sneak a peek.

  Melissa’s face turned into an impassive mask, and her gaze dropped to the ground. She took a few moments before responding.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Donovan. It needs to be about scratching an itch. And nothing more.” Her lips tugged downward. “Because I can’t be with someone whose life involves the spotlight like yours does. I just can’t.”

  Donovan could feel a scowl coming on. “And you can’t see past that? Not when this is right in front of you and I’m asking for a chance?”

  Melissa hesitated, her bottom lip trembling. But then she caught it. She shook her head. No.

  “All right then. I guess that’s clear.” He strode through the water toward the stairs, a bad mood just moments away from taking root. It would be better for him to leave. Go lock himself in his gaming cave upstairs and not come out for a while.

  Part of him wanted to beg, but to what end? She’d made up her mind.

  Melissa didn’t say anything else as Donovan strode toward his discarded clothes on the tiles around the pool. He snatched them up, not bothering to get dressed as he headed for the house.

  He wanted there to be more—a lot more—between him and Melissa. But he couldn’t convince her to want the same. And if all she could handle was coparenthood, then he’d have to start getting used to that idea.

  The sooner the better.

  15

  Donovan’s words were still ringing in Melissa’s ears weeks later. After all the weekend home visits with the remaining four contestants, she still wondered if he felt the same way about her. She’d watched the footage of all the necking and heavy petting on camera with each of the four girls. Seen the way he wooed aging parents and won over skeptical brothers and sisters. The man was charm on legs.

  And even if this was all an act for the show, he was fooling her now, too. They’d barely spoken since that evening in the pool, and when they did, it was all business. Melissa tried to engage him, tried to get even a little hint of that spark back between them, but Donovan had locked it down tight.

  And maybe she deserved it. She’d rejected the most handsome, most hilarious, most special man to cross her path. And now he was off courting women with hot-air balloon rides, which he did with Tara last weekend, and romantic dinners, like his most recent date with Gemma. She and Donovan had never dated, but would he have done things like that with her?

  Part of her wondered what romantic strategy he might have used with her. The other part was already bitter that he hadn’t taken her on a hot-air balloon ride, even though it was perfectly absurd to feel that way. This unreasonableness, of all things, had to be the pregnancy hormones.

  Which meant that it was more important than ever to keep her shit together. Donovan was on his way to her trailer for a scheduled meeting with her, Frank, and another executive for a final push, where they’d seriously analyze the feedback so far and make all the outstanding decisions for the rest of the show. Melissa was excited to see Donovan again, since it had been a while. Frank had offered to oversee the weekend visits, which Melissa didn’t hesitate to accept. She wanted the time away from him. But that time away now made her nervous. Maybe he’d seriously fallen in love in the four weeks they’d been apart. Maybe any inkling of affection between them had been totally destroyed.

  Which meant she’d just have to be content with the success this show would bring her. That was enough. It would have to be.

  Knock knock knock. Melissa jolted, and she moved to get the door, but Frank shushed her and opened it. Donovan’s large frame filled the doorway as he stepped inside, and her heart raced even though she hadn’t moved. She couldn’t rip her eyes off him. Donovan shook Frank’s hand, and then their boss Pamela’s hand. Donovan nodded toward Melissa.

  “Hey,” he said, sounding breezy and unaffected. As if he hadn’t thought of her even once during the past four weeks. His gaze fell to her belly. “Wow. You’ve popped since the last time I was here.”

  Her hands automatically went to her belly, which had rounded out nicely. She officially looked pregnant, it was true. But no response came to her; she gaped up at him, feeling a lot like a schoolgirl coming face to face with a crush.

  “Shall we get down to business?” Pamela asked, always good for keeping a meeting on task. The four of them launched into the agenda, and the first talking point was a doozy. “Here’s the deal. Test audiences aren’t loving the early episodes. Now we pla
yed it safe by coming out about Melissa’s pregnancy, but these results confirm that’s not enough.” Pamela looked over the rim of her glasses at Melissa, which made her stomach shrink to a nut. “We’ve got a couple options to get the ratings on track, but if they don’t recover, then this project will have to be scrapped.”

  Donovan looked genuinely upset. “Okay. What are the options?”

  Pamela didn’t look his way. Instead, she directed her statement to Melissa. “You need to be the star of the show, darling.”

  Melissa knew this was coming. Pamela had warned her, and she’d been sitting with the idea for the entire day. Her gut reaction was of course. She’d be the star of the show, if it meant the show had a chance at success. Even though she’d tried to compromise, tried to stick to the sidelines while still compromising her morals, the reality TV gods would be displeased until Melissa threw herself onto the pyre. And now it was time to burn.

  Pamela carried on without waiting for her answer. “Donovan, we need you to make a decision about who you’ll pick to marry. And if you’re uncertain, just pick Melissa. We want you to propose to her if you don’t pick the gaming CEO, to be honest.”

  Each additional word out of Pamela’s mouth felt like tiny knife wounds. This meeting was actually a living nightmare. Not only did her own feelings about Donovan muddy the situation, but now any chance of a happily-ever-after with Donovan would be forever stained with show business. It could never be a real thing, because they were pushing it into a performance.

  Donovan sent her an uncertain look. He cared, at least—that much, she could tell. “Melissa? What do you think about this?”

  Melissa took a deep breath, trying to keep the pinch of her throat from altering her words. “I think that we should do whatever necessary to get the ratings.” Even at the cost of my child’s privacy…and my heart. “Have you heard from editing about how to work me into earlier episodes?”

  “We’re on that right now,” Frank said, adjusting his dark-rimmed glasses. “You showed up plenty in the early footage, mostly just throughout the course of the day doing your check-ins and whatnot. Preliminarily speaking, it seems like we’ll have enough to create a storyline there with that footage and some frankenbites. And from here on out, we’ll plot our scenes with you in them.”

  Melissa squeezed her hands together, nodding, trying to maintain the producer’s attitude about this cavalier alteration to her near future. And really, she was less upset about the fact that she was being unforgivably thrust into the spotlight than she expected. No, now it was mostly the fact that anything real that might have existed between her and Donovan was now going to be tainted. It would become a shtick. A bit. A storyline for ratings.

  “I don’t want to do it this way,” Donovan blurted. She jerked her gaze up to find real concern written into his face. “Melissa doesn’t want to be in the spotlight, so she shouldn’t have to be.”

  “She said she’s fine with it,” Pamela said.

  “I’m fine,” Melissa reiterated.

  Donovan sent her a look that said oh, come on. “Then maybe everyone will be fine with the fact that I’m not proposing to her.”

  Pamela and Frank exchanged a glance with Melissa. Frank shrugged. “The choice is yours. But we need the decision today, so we can finalize our marketing efforts before this show premiers.”

  Melissa studied the worn brown carpet of her trailer, trying not to let Donovan’s comment affect her. Why did it hurt so much to hear him say that? This was business. It had started that way, and it would end that way. Even when it came to their unborn child.

  Still, part of her wanted him to be excited about the prospect of proposing to her—not outright dismissive. But maybe she’d pissed him off enough that he wouldn’t even marry her for show.

  “Sure. I’ve made up my mind. It’s Gemma.” Donovan leaned back into his seat, crossing an ankle over his knee. Melissa’s stomach pinched tighter. This was the truth she’d been worried about. Donovan had fallen for Gemma. The other CEO. The woman he could relate to and run an empire with. Bathing in the spotlight.

  “Okay. Well, I think that about covers our agenda for today.” Melissa made a show of checking her wristwatch. “I’ve got some other things to plan out, so I’ll have to take my office back now.” Even though other things was an ugly cry in the corner. “Good progress, team. Looking forward to the success of the show.”

  Donovan excused himself first, and then Frank and Pamela covered a few last things between the three of them. Once everyone was gone, Melissa crumpled onto the couch and let the tears flow. This was the definition of a clusterfuck.

  And somehow, she knew that Donovan could make it all better. She only wanted him. To turn to, to laugh with, to cry with.

  Except she’d already burned that bridge. And it seemed clear that he was a man who once he moved on, he was gone.

  16

  Melissa needed a break. As she set the final production schedule for the show, she worked in a long weekend off so she could go to Vegas. In the midst of all the emotional upheaval and the long stretch of the second trimester, she needed to see The Mesmerizing Bellinis.

  She hadn’t often consulted her mother and father for advice growing up. Really, they’d always seemed utterly removed from regular situations, and since regular was all Melissa had craved as a kid, that sort of ruled them out.

  But now, in the thick of her pregnancy, it was time to let the proverbial cat out of the bag. Her mom and dad still didn’t know. Besides, she just wanted someone to tell her it was going to be okay. That being a single mom wasn’t the worst idea she’d had. That she’d be a good mother, even if this reality intrusion wasn’t the best start.

  Her parents were shocked to see Melissa show up on their doorstep that Friday. But as they swept her inside for tiny bologna sandwiches and soda, Melissa’s favorite from childhood, she started to fall hard down memory lane.

  “You always had a thing for white bread and bologna,” her mother remarked as Melissa stuffed a fourth triangle into her mouth.

  “Yeah, well, it’s good.” She swallowed her bite. “Just don’t let anyone from work see me eating this. They’d probably fire me.”

  “Bunch of crunchy organic types, right?” her dad asked.

  “Some of the worst.” She sipped at her soda, then sighed. “It’s good to be back here. I’d like to see a show, too.”

  “We’ve got one tomorrow, Mel Belle,” her mom cooed, swatting her knee. “And you can even perform, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  Melissa snorted. “Definitely not.” She grunted as she sat up straighter. The round belly was beginning to make certain movements harder. “Haven’t you caught on by now? I’m not the type to thrive in the spotlight. I’m the behind-the-scenes person. Besides, I’m not sure I’d be able to in my condition.”

  A deep silence emerged. Her father’s pencil-thin mustache curved down slightly as he frowned.

  “Is there something you haven’t told us?” her mom asked.

  Melissa cleared her throat, fingers twitching with the urge to grab another tiny sandwich. She smoothed her flowy top over her growing belly, showing off the roundness there. “Here’s a clue. This belly isn’t just from bologna sandwiches.”

  Mom’s gasp rocketed around the world. “You are not!”

  “Mel Belle, are you serious?” Dad’s voice came out an awed whisper.

  “Please tell me the father is that handsome man who showed up at your apartment,” Mom added. “Are you seeing him? How long have you been together?”

  Melissa thinned her lips. Of course they’d be curious about their single daughter getting knocked up. She wished it were a simpler situation. “It’s…a friend’s. And no, I’m not seeing that man. His name is Donovan, by the way.” Her heart squeezed, and she reached for another sandwich. Screw it all to hell. “Sort of an arrangement we have.”

  Mom looked a little disappointed when she didn’t cop to Donovan being the father. “What do you mean a
n arrangement?”

  “It’s not a romance baby, it’s more like a business baby.” As soon as she said that, she knew it was wrong. “I mean, we’re going to both raise the baby but not be together.” Her heart squeezed again, so she took a gulp of soda. Her OB wouldn’t be super pleased about that. “But the baby will be loved. Very loved.”

  Dad frowned a little. “That seems pretty progressive.” The way he said it, she knew it wasn’t exactly a compliment.

  “What do you mean? People do stuff like this all the time. Since the beginning of time.” Melissa huffed, reaching for anther sandwich, which her mom proffered more eagerly now that the pregnancy was in the air. “Besides, it’s no more progressive than my whack-a-doodle childhood.”

  Her mom cocked her head, eyebrows forming a straight line. “What exactly was whack-a-doodle about it?”

  “Mom. Come on.” Melissa ripped into another sandwich, chewing as she talked. “We were constantly on the road. I was terrorized by a monkey growing up. All of my friends wore leotards and were home schooled.”

  “And you turned out fine, didn’t you?” Mom lifted a brow, smirking like this ended the discussion.

  Unfortunately, it sort of did. Melissa hesitated. “Well, yeah. But I’m just saying, I sort of wanted my baby to have a different upbringing. One that was less…on the road.”

  “One that involves reality television,” her father summarized.

  Melissa groaned. “You had to bring that up.”

  “Listen, honey, all we’re saying is that whack-a-doodle isn’t bad,” her mom went on.

  “Your kid is going to grow up whack-a-doodle no matter what,” her father said, slicing a hand through the air. “There’s no getting around it. He or she is a Hampton, which means they’re already branded for life.”

  Melissa laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But you’re right. Whack-a-doodle is par for the course, I guess.”

  “And once he or she is of performing age,” her mom said, leaning in close with a bright, cloying smile on her lips, “we’ll make a spot just for them in the show!”