A Baby for the Billionaire
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About the Author
Discover more category romance titles from Entangled Indulgence… The Billionaire’s Reluctant Fiancée
The Penthouse Pact
Far From Perfect
Suspicious Ways
This book is a work 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.
Copyright © 2018 by Victoria Davies. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 105, PMB 159
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Candace Havens
Cover design by Liz Pelletier
Cover art from iStock
ISBN 978-1-64063-482-4
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition February 2018
To my paternal grandmother, Virginia. She never doubted I would one day publish books, even though she didn’t live to see a single one of them come out. I am beyond grateful to have had her cheering me on for so many incredible years.
You are missed.
Chapter One
“I need you.”
Clara rolled her eyes, not even bothering to glance up from the magazine she was reading.
“I told you,” she said into the cell phone. “I need some me time this weekend. Work has been ridiculous. Not that you would know the feeling.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Be a good billionaire and entertain yourself for a few days. We can grab drinks next week when things calm down.”
She flipped a glossy page, wondering what Walker was on about now. It’s not as if these calls were infrequent. No matter what divergent paths their lives had taken since their college days, Clara could always count on a call or two a week. Usually her bestie just wanted to chat about whatever new piece of code had sprouted in his brain. Not that her journalism degree had prepared her for trying to understand complex computer engineering but she did her best.
“Whatever bit of software you’re developing, I’m sure it will earn you another billion.”
“This isn’t about business,” he said. “I need your help.”
She put down the magazine. “Help consuming the leftovers from some fabulous party? If champagne is involved I’m there.”
“No, this is more of a real problem.”
The plaintive cry of a baby rang from the speaker.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded, pushing to her feet.
“The problem.”
“Please tell me you’ve got the TV on.”
“I’m afraid that was the sound of a 100 percent, bona fide tiny human.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m surprised you let a kid through your front door instead of demanding it wait in the lobby.”
Walker groaned. “I’m not a monster, Clara.”
“I’m just saying…”
“I’m well aware I’m not the most comfortable person around children. Why do you think I’m calling you?”
Walking around the sofa, she headed for the kitchenette built into her one-bedroom apartment. “What do you want me to do about it?” she asked, pulling open the fridge. “Just ask the parents to take it to another room until the crying stops.”
He sighed into the phone. She could picture him now, pinching the bridge of his nose while he counted to ten in his head.
Grabbing a bottle of cider, she kicked the fridge closed. “Look, my Sunday night plans consist of watching a bad movie and eating popcorn. It might not be a helicopter tour of the city, but I’ve been looking forward to it. Let’s hang out next week.”
“You’re not getting the urgency here. I need you to come over right now. I’ve already sent a car to get you.”
She set the bottle on the counter. “That’s high-handed even for you.”
“I can’t make this baby stop crying.”
“I told you. Just ask the parents to—”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m the parent.”
Ice raced through her veins. “What did you just say?”
More cries poured from the phone. “Please, Clara. I’m in over my head here.”
“You have a—”
“Baby. It’s news to me too.” Another cry sounded. “Dammit. Get here fast.”
The line went dead.
Clara stood in the middle of her kitchen, frozen. Walker Beckett had a baby. The man she’d seen switch tables in a restaurant just to get as far away from a potentially disruptive child as possible had one of his own.
With who?
He hadn’t done this all by himself. Which one of the women rotating through his life had managed to leave such a permanent mark?
For the past ten years, she’d been the most important woman in his life. Not in a romantic way, of course, but she was as close as he’d been to a stable relationship. Ever since their friendship had formed in college they’d been inseparable. The odd couple. The pair of unlikely companions. The billionaire and the pauper. She’d told him every secret she’d ever had. A habit she’d thought had been a two-way road.
How did I not know this?
She pressed a hand to her chest, massaging away the invisible ache. They were supposed to be closer than this. Weren’t they?
Taking a deep breath, she rolled back her shoulders. She’d been guilty of many things in her life but leaving a friend hanging wasn’t one of them.
Glancing at her watch, she ran back into the living room and grabbed the purse she’d tossed onto an armchair. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging above her mantel, she groaned. Yoga pants that had never seen a day of yoga. A tank top that boasted a ripped hem, and a cardigan she’d chosen for comfort rather than style. Throw in the curly brown hair gathered in a messy bun plus the freshly washed face without a speck of makeup and this was pretty much as far from the way she wanted Walker to see her as possible. But when the doorbell rang there wasn’t much she could do about it. Her friend was in trouble. That took priority over vanity.
Grabbing her coat, she opened the door to the waiting chauffeur.
“Mr. Beckett is expecting you,” the driver said, giving her a once-over.
“I know,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
Pulling the door closed behind her, she followed the driver into the elevator.
“Did he give you any sort of message or information for me?” she asked as the floors descended.
“Afraid not, ma’am,” her companion replied. “But we’ll be there shortly.”
Pulling her jacket around her to keep away the spring chill, she climbed into the back of the car.
As the world flashed by outside her window, Clara couldn’t keep her mind from returning to one burning question in her mind.
Who’s the mother?
Not that it really mattered who it was. That woman would be stepping into Clara’s role now. She’d be the one Walker called in emergencies. The one he ordered takeout for while they binge-watched their favorite shows.
They’d start talking less. The time between hang outs would stretch longer and longer. Then they’d only get together at Christmas and make promises to make more effort to stay in touch. Eventually their friendship would fade to a fond memory. They’d move on with their lives. Without each other.
Clara shook her head to banish the sobering thought. Any dreams of the two of them ending up together had died in college, but she’d enjoyed the quasi-girlfriend role she’d played in his life. It’d been nice, in the absence of a real partner, to have someone she could turn to no matter what.
But everything would change now.
The car slowed to a stop outside the skyscraper she’d come to know well. Saying goodbye to the driver, she strode into the elegant lobby. The concierge waved her toward the elevators, recognizing her immediately after all this time. Within seconds she was standing outside the penthouse on the top floor of the building.
Courage. Whatever lay beyond that door, she could deal with it. Even if it meant her life was about to change in an irrevocable way, just as Walker’s was.
Lifting her chin, she knocked on the gleaming wood.
The door jerked open.
“Hi, Walker,” she said.
“Clara.”
His velvety voice rolled over her, sending a shiver down her spine. Walker looked as good as he always did, even under less than ideal circumstances. His black hair was tousled in all the right ways, hanging around his chiseled face. She’d always thought he looked more like a movie star than a technological visionary. With his piercing blue eyes and the hint of stubble along his strong jaw, he could have held his own on any film poster. To add insult to injury, he’d never even lost his athletic build from college, despite the long hours staring at a computer screen. And unlike her, his impressive body was covered in clothes with designer tags. Even alone on a weekend evening he looked impeccable, whereas she wrapped her coat more firmly around her curvy body.
“Come in,” he said, holding the door open for her.
She stepped over the threshold into the luxury that was his life. Her little apartment didn’t hold a candle to the sweeping penthouse with all the top-of-the-line toys. Just one more reminder that even though they began their adult lives together, they were now from completely different worlds.
“I think you need to start from the beginning,” she said.
He nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s fair. Come this way.”
She followed him through the entrance hall and down into the sunken living room. Her gaze zeroed in on the only thing in the room that mattered.
The tiny squirming bundle of joy sitting in its baby carrier on Walker’s expensive coffee table.
“Hell,” she said, unable to tear her eyes from the child. “This is real.”
…
Walker looked down at his son, echoing Clara’s sentiments. Everything was still surreal, as if he were watching someone else’s life play out before his eyes.
“This is your baby?” Clara asked, tearing her gaze from the baby as she looked up at him.
“That’s what the note says.”
“Note?”
He picked up the letter from the table and handed it over to her. As she read, he collapsed onto the sofa, praying she’d be able to make more sense of this than he could.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he waited for her to catch up to where he was. His gaze drifted back to the baby who couldn’t be more than a few months old cooing on his coffee table. The child didn’t seem at all phased to have been dropped into a stranger’s lap. No, it was just the adults in the room struggling to make sense of the nightmare they’d stepped into.
“He was just dropped off?” she asked, looking up from the letter.
“Left on my doorstep just as he is now. He must have been marched right past the concierge,” Walker confirmed. When he’d gone to answer the door the last thing he’d expected was to find a baby waiting from him. The letter that had been pinned to his blanket offered an explanation that was next to useless.
“‘I’ve tried to look after him,’” Clara read aloud, “‘but this isn’t what I signed up for. You can do more for him than I can. I leave him to you.’”
“It doesn’t even say his name,” Walker said, waving at the baby. “I don’t know what to call him.”
“Walker,” she breathed.
He flinched from the pity he heard in that one word. He’d spent his life building an empire to ensure he’d never hear that tone again and here it was, back on the lips of the one person who mattered most to him.
Pushing to his feet, he paced around the coffee table.
“What are you going to do?”
He looked back at his oldest friend. Who would have thought when they’d met ten years earlier she’d still be beside him now? He remembered the moment he’d first seen her. He’d been dating her friend and one night his girlfriend had insisted on taking her bookworm of a roommate to a party with them. The inexperienced Clara had dumped a Coke on his shirt for his troubles when he’d gone to check up on her. Instead of being a ball of nerves and apologies, she’d snapped into problem-solving mode, determined to fix the mistake. He’d been in awe of her as she’d ordered the drunk frat boys around her to help her find wet rags so they could clean the spill before it stained. And to everyone’s surprise, the boys had snapped to attention and done exactly what she’d wanted.
Her roommate might have called her mousy, but even back then Clara had always been clear on who she was. Though not as outgoing as his girlfriend, there’d been a quiet strength in her that never failed to draw people in. He’d often been jealous of how easily she could make people love her. He might have only made it two years through his degree, but he never counted that time as wasted years. Not when it had brought him Clara.
And now he was about to test their friendship.
“I need help,” he said.
She scoffed. “Yeah, no kidding. Let’s hope there’s a hotline for twenty-four-hour nannies.” She leaned down to inspect the baby. “Heaven help us when this kid gets hungry. Is there anything in this place we can give him?”
“You think I keep baby formula around in case of emergencies?”
She shot him a dirty look. “You had time to order a flunky to pick me up. Surely you could send someone out for groceries.”
Not a bad idea.
“This is why I need you.”
“Because I know the basics of keeping a human alive? Hate to break it to you but I don’t think I’m the first one to figure that out.”
“No.” He strode toward her. “You think of things I don’t. I know how to deal with computers, not people.”
She shrugged. “You’re about to get a crash course.”
“Yes, I am.” His gaze went back to the baby. “And I need your help.”
“I can see that.” She sighed. “Okay, I can help you make a list of things he might need. Then we can plot out your next steps.” She looked up at him with her wide brown eyes. “This is a far cry from what I thought I’d be doing tonight.”
“Tell me about it,” he said. “But I need more than a night from you.”
She arched a brow, a familiar sight that brought a smile to his face even as his life was falling apart. Yes, this was the right choice. He could navigate this unexpected twist as long as Clara was by his side.
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Move in with me.”
Chapter Two
He did not just ask me that.
Sure, she hoped at some point her life would move in the direction of living with another person, but not Walker. And not like this.
When she decided to move in with a man she wanted it to be because they never wanted to be apart, not because she had a skill a friend needed. But then again, it’s not like her fantasies about Walker ever played out right. She should know by now he never did the expected. No, he was a man who’d marched to his own drummer from the moment they’d met.
And now it looked like he was going to bring his more unconventional practices to child rearing as well.
“I’m not going to be your nanny,” she told him, point-blank.
“That’s not what I’m asking,” he replied. “I’ll have a nanny show up first thing tomorrow. What I need is…”
She crossed her arms, waiting him out.
“You,” he finished with a shrug. “I don’t know what to ask. What to think about or provide. I’ve never even touched a baby let alone tried to keep one alive for an extended period.”
“You realize that time is at least eighteen years, right?”
He ran a hand down his face. “Obviously, I don’t expect you to be around that long.”
There was no stopping her flinch.
“Dammit, I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant,” she said, focusing on the child rather than looking at him.
“I just need help. Please, Clara. I can’t do this without you.”
She crouched in front of the baby carrier, studying the little life asleep on Walker’s far too expensive coffee table. The tiny boy’s face was smooth of worry. Miniature hands fisted as his head lolled against the side of the carrier. She couldn’t help wondering if he had the same ice blue eyes of his father.
This is Walker’s flesh and blood.
She still couldn’t believe it. He’d gone and made a whole new human being.
Without me.
“I can’t be a part of this,” she said as she rose to her feet. “Of course, I’ll support you and help you as your friend, but I can’t be your surrogate wife.” She shook her head. “It’s not fair.”