Carrying the Billionaire's Baby

by Susan Meier

  Well, that wouldn’t do. Not when he was having fun. They were having fun.

  He rose from his seat. “You know what? Maybe it is time to head back to the hotel.” He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he was doing, but he did know Avery was probably tired. If he wanted to extend this night, it wouldn’t be on the dance floor—or with his mother and her friends watching.

  She looked up at him, her green eyes confused. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll probably want an early start in the morning. The time difference works in our favor, but we still need to get some sleep.” He pulled out her chair for her. “Annalise and Julianna, always lovely to see you.” He helped Avery stand. “Mom, I’ll be in touch when you get back to New York.”

  He didn’t give his mother a chance to argue, just ushered Avery out to the coat room. As she slid into her wrap, he texted his driver and they stepped out into the unusually warm night.

  “Typically, it’s colder than this in Paris in September.”

  She smiled slightly. “Global warming.”

  He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Probably.”

  The limo pulled up. Avery got inside and he followed her. They made the trip in silence but when they were a few blocks away from the hotel, he leaned forward and said, “Can you let us out here?”

  The driver slowed the limo, then pulled up to the curb. As he walked around to open the door, Avery faced Jake. “What are we doing?”

  “You’ve never walked in Paris at night.”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “No. I guess I haven’t.” Her eyes clouded as she considered that, but there’d be no need to think about it, if she wasn’t tempted.

  He coaxed her. “It’s a beautiful night. Our last night here.”

  The driver opened the door.

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  They got out, and the limo pulled away. The street still bustled with tourists. It wasn’t crowded, just busy enough to give the sense that they were part of something bigger than themselves.

  He slid her hand beneath his arm and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. He expected her to argue, but she was too busy looking around.

  “It’s so beautiful here.”

  “And, as I mentioned, the night’s warmer than usual. Seemed a shame to waste it.”

  “Yes.” Her soft voice tiptoed into the night, as the moon tossed silvery light across the Seine like glitter. Subtle noise from the other tourists surrounded them.

  He tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to him. Right now, in this minute, making her happy, making sure she didn’t regret this trip, was the only thing he wanted—even if she was back to being the woman who argued with nearly everything he said.

  They stayed silent, as she glanced around. “You know, when I was a little girl, before all the craziness of my dad being arrested and going to prison, I used to dream about becoming a high-powered business person in New York City and coming to Paris anytime I wanted. Maybe having my own apartment here.” She laughed. “A second home.”

  He almost stopped walking. Was that a secret? From her? The woman who neither wanted nor needed anybody’s help?

  “Then I’m glad I twisted your arm to come with me.”

  “You didn’t have to twist my arm. We made a deal, remember?”

  He remembered. She’d already told him her biggest secret, but as part of a negotiation. Admitting childhood dreams was different. It was like telling him that before her father’s troubles she’d wanted all the things everybody wants. What had happened to her dad had shaped her world, her goals, her dreams.

  Part of him rebelled against that, if only because it wasn’t fair that an event in someone else’s life would form her dreams as it stole a bit of her childhood and most of her innocence.

  “Even without you coming here with me, I wouldn’t have used what happened to your dad against you. It’s the past.”

  “I know that now.”

  Ridiculous pride filled him. His honesty had made her feel better, but she’d made him feel honest, trustworthy, good just as he was—a feeling he’d never had before.

  The hotel came into view. They walked the rest of the way without speaking. He didn’t want to break the mood, or think too hard about what all this might mean. He just wanted to enjoy Paris. When they stepped into the bright lights of the lobby, he was almost sorry.

  Riding in the elevator, he remembered how the evening had begun, with him teasing her. Walking down the corridor to their suite, thoughts of dancing with her almost made him laugh out loud. Then she’d confided in him. For real this time. Not as part of a deal.

  It had been one of the happiest nights of his life.

  He opened the door and she stepped inside, immediately turning to the right to go to her room.

  He didn’t even think about it. He caught her hand and twirled her around to face him, then pulled her into his arms. His lips met hers softly at first, then when she didn’t protest, he deepened the kiss, opening her mouth, tasting her. His hands ran down her bare back, then smoothed up again, enjoying the feel of her luxurious skin.

  She slid her arms around his neck. The kiss went on and on, as if they’d done this a million times, and in a way they had. But never like this. Never a kiss of happiness. Or joy. Or a whole jumble of confusing emotions that culminated in one thought.

  What if this was love?

  Real love? Not the feeling a person had when they were dating somebody with whom they were compatible. But real, honest-to-God love.

  The idea was so foreign he almost stopped kissing her, but her warm lips lured him back. Tempted him to go further, faster, indulge his cravings—

  And that’s when the real debate began.

  Did he want to fall in love with somebody he usually argued with? Someone who wanted a life totally different than the one he had planned? He’d already lost control with her. No, he’d given up control to please her. And that was dangerous. Not that he thought she’d use him, but they were about to negotiate the most important thing in his life: the fate of his child.

  If dealing with his father had taught him anything, it was that opponents were opponents. It didn’t matter if it was his father or a total stranger. One never gave up control. Never trusted someone so much that he put important things in jeopardy—

  No matter how well his opponent kissed.

  He pulled back, watched her eyes open, held her gaze long enough to hope that something in her pretty green orbs would ease his fears, but all he saw were her fears.

  He released her. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  Her gaze clung to his. “Thank you too.”

  He turned and walked into his room, deciding the kiss had been the perfect way to end anything between them except parenting their child.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY RETURNED ON Sunday to seventy-degree temperatures in New York City. Jake had missed four days of work and was eager to get to his apartment, his computer and the forty-two messages in his phone. Avery was told via email to report directly to Pete Waters’s office the next morning.

  Vacation was over. And, from Jake’s cool behavior on the plane, so was anything that might have been budding between them in Paris. It could have confused her, could have hurt her, except she knew Jake McCallan. The fun Jake she’d danced with was an aberration—thank goodness. She did not want to fall in love with the guy who’d probably be taking her to court.

  When she arrived at Waters, Waters and Montgomery on Monday morning, Pete explained exactly what she’d expected, including reminding her of the firm’s stance on “even the appearance of impropriety.”

  She resigned, so he didn’t have to let her go, and, grateful that she had, Pete volunteered to write a glowing letter of recommendation and provide three months’ severance pay—her salary right up
to her due date.

  Given that that was all she’d anticipated earning, it wasn’t a financial hardship to leave. She returned to her condo, changed out of her work clothes and slid into sweatpants and a big T-shirt.

  With a pint of ice cream in one hand and the television remote in the other, she sat on her sofa, preparing to channel surf.

  She’d never had this much time off in her life. Part of her wished she’d stayed in Paris—but being that far away from home or her doctor wasn’t a good idea. Just like that kiss hadn’t been a good idea.

  But, oh. It definitely had been a Paris kiss. Filled with passion and emotion but with an underlying—something. Maybe regret. With the way he’d pulled away and then barely spoken to her on the plane home, it was clear even he knew they couldn’t get involved. Not when they hadn’t resolved all their issues about the baby.

  She took a bite of the chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream, as the unvarnished truth poured down on her. She was pregnant, had no job and had kissed a man who would be on the opposite end of her custody battle.

  But, oh, that kiss. So surprisingly romantic from such a by-the-book guy—

  Was she crazy? Did she really want to be pining over someone so different than she was? Someone who had to be told how to be spontaneous? Someone who would never move to her small town—which meant she’d have to stay in New York City and give up her dream? Which would mean losing herself. Losing the person she’d worked to become since high school. Or, the more likely scenario, getting her heart broken when she left him.

  Because she would leave him. She could not give up her dreams.

  She spooned another bite of the ice cream, this time just chocolate and strawberry together. As the smooth flavor rolled across her taste buds, she closed her eyes in ecstasy. But that kiss wouldn’t leave her brain. It had been so romantic. A kiss like they’d never shared before, if only because it had been filled with emotion.

  Real emotion.

  From the stuffiest guy on the planet.

  She stopped that thought. Squelched it before it could take root.

  That kiss played fast and loose with her heart when she needed to be stable. Getting involved with Jake was just plain foolish. Stupid. And she was neither foolish nor stupid.

  The adrenaline of drawing that conclusion filled her with energy. Instead of kicking back, she should be doing something. And Lord knew, she had enough to do. She might not be working, but she had to take the Pennsylvania bar exam. She had to sell her condo. She had to move to Pennsylvania.

  Well, actually, she couldn’t move to Pennsylvania until after the baby was born. She wasn’t switching doctors this late in the game. Still, it would take time to sell her condo and probably time for the purchaser to get a mortgage.

  So maybe it was good she didn’t have a job? She could call a Realtor, get the condo on the market and spend her time making sure it was spotless for showings—as she studied for the bar. It would be good to do that exclusively for three months. No job taking up her study time. No making notes, reading law, into the wee hours of the morning.

  She took one last bite of vanilla mixed with chocolate, and strode to the kitchen. After returning the ice cream to the freezer, she picked up the phone and dialed the number for her Realtor. The sooner she put her condo on the market the better.

  Her agent eagerly agreed to meet her that night to get the required information and take pictures to get the condo up for sale.

  Short, blonde Eileen Naugle arrived around eight, all smiles and happiness. “This place is gorgeous!” She spun away from the kitchen and grinned broadly at Avery. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to sell it.”

  As Eileen snapped a few pictures, Avery said, “Moving back to Pennsylvania.”

  The agent grimaced and said, “Pennsylvania?” as if Avery was nuts.

  She shrugged and pointed at her belly. “I want to raise the baby with my family.”

  Eileen clasped Avery’s hand. “Yes. That’s a good idea. You are so lucky.” She glanced around the condo. “And so am I. This place is fantastic. Nicely designed.” She winked at Avery. “It’ll sell in a heartbeat. Did you just redo it?”

  “The remodel was finished last year. But I work a lot.” She walked Eileen back through the hall and motioned for her to look into the half bath. “I don’t think this bathroom or the full bath for the guestroom have ever been used.”

  Eileen peered in and gasped. “Oh, it’s lovely.” She took two pictures.

  Leading her to the master, Avery said, “This room is the one room of the house that got the most use. I ate out. I worked late. The only thing I really did was sleep here.” And fool around with Jake. But there was no reason for Eileen to know that. No reason for it to pop into her head either. Anything between her and Jake was over...

  Still, they were fun memories.

  They arrived at the decent-sized master with the same wide-plank hardwood floors that were throughout the home. A queen bed with tufted gray headboard sat on top of a white shag area rug.

  She snapped three pictures. “This is perfect.”

  “And, of course, the bathroom.” She and Jake had had some fun times in that shower too. But instead of seeing the scene as it had happened, she pictured it with the emotional, happy Jake who’d kissed her in Paris and her chest tightened.

  She had to stop thinking about it...

  About him.

  But dancing with him and then sharing that kiss had stirred up memories. Or maybe longings.

  Which was wrong. Totally, totally wrong.

  Walking inside the master bath, Eileen glanced around nodding. “This is good. You might have used it but you’re a very neat person.”

  After Eileen took a few pictures, Avery led her back to the living room. As the Realtor removed the agency agreement from her briefcase, Avery made her a cup of coffee in her single-serve coffee maker.

  She read the agreement while Eileen sipped her coffee.

  “The price is based mostly on square footage and location,” Eileen said. “The condition of the unit is a bonus. We can advertise as move-in ready. Though I’m not going to put it on the market yet. I have a few private clients who will want to see it first.”

  “That’s fine,” Avery said, signing the agreement. “Since I’m no longer working, just give me a call before you show it and I’ll disappear for a few hours.”

  She rose and Eileen rose too. “This will be so much fun!”

  Avery glanced around her perfect condo. The first slice of sadness hit her. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she would call it fun to be moving out, leaving the job she’d loved and the city that had somehow gotten in her blood—or the guy who was the father of her child.

  As they walked to the door, she said, “Thank you for your help.”

  Eileen smiled. “My pleasure.”

  Avery opened the door and there stood Jake, hand raised as if he was about to knock. The bedroom and shower memories tumbled back, heating her face and scrambling her pulse.

  Eileen smiled. “Well, hello.”

  Lowering his arm, Jake said, “Hello.”

  Avery said, “Eileen was just leaving.”

  But Eileen’s smile grew. “You’re Jake McCallan, aren’t you?”

  Jake held out his hand to shake hers. “Yes.”

  “I’m Eileen Naugle.” She reached into her pocket and presented her card to him. “If you ever need assistance buying or selling, I’d be happy to help you.”

  Jake looked at Avery. “She’s a real estate agent?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re putting your condo on the market?”

  “I told you I was.” Avery quickly turned to Eileen. Stuffy Jake was back with a vengeance. “Thank you very much. Call me if you need anything.”

  Eileen said, “Sure.”

  Avery caught Jake’s arm and yanked him into the e
ntryway as Eileen walked to the elevator.

  Closing the door, Avery sighed. “She probably feels like she just won the lottery.”

  “The lottery?”

  “Connections are everything to real estate agents. Expect a fruit basket and a nice-to-meet-you card in your office tomorrow morning.”

  He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “I’d gotten the impression you weren’t moving until after the baby was born.”

  “I’m not. It’ll probably take a few weeks to sell the condo and then even more time for the buyer to get a mortgage.”

  She wanted to invite him to sit, ask him if he wanted some coffee, maybe tell him about her day, but she stifled that urge. Stuffy Jake wasn’t the kind to want to hear about her day. The man who’d kissed her so eloquently in Paris hadn’t flown home to New York. No matter how much she’d thought about him that afternoon, no matter how easily she superimposed fun Jake into her memories, she and the real Jake McCallan weren’t a good match.

  “So you’ll be around?”

  “If by around you mean will I still be living in New York, then the answer is yes.”

  “Good because my mother’s talking about going shopping with you. She got in this afternoon.” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. “I’m texting her number to you. She feels it would be imposing for her to be the first one to call.”

  Avery laughed. “That’s very sweet.”

  “She also wants to be part of the pregnancy but she’s concerned about being a nuisance.”

  “I’m out of a job. I resigned this morning to save Pete the trouble of letting me go. I’m getting a decent severance package, but I’m left with three months of nothing but studying for the Pennsylvania bar exam. She won’t be a nuisance. She’ll be a welcome break.”

  He frowned. “You’d welcome the chance to spend time with my mother?”

  She casually said, “All my friends will be working from nine in the morning till nine at night,” but she suddenly missed the man who’d danced with her at the ball. The man who’d taken her for a moonlight stroll along the Seine and kissed her in the dark, quiet sitting room between their two bedrooms.