Saving Hope: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Lucy Wild

  *

  We got married on the island. Words I never expected to say. But then maybe it was fate. It had never occurred to me that there would be a postmark on the letter I sent him, I just wanted to return the money I’d borrowed. But things happen for a reason sometimes. Maybe all the time. If I hadn’t been with Jason, I wouldn’t have run, I wouldn’t have met Rob, I wouldn’t be standing next to my husband on the beach, looking out at the ocean as the sounds of the entire village celebrating rolled slowly in from behind us.

  It didn’t take long to plan. Rob was happy just inviting a few people from his life. Anthony stood on the front row next to Annie and I noticed they were holding hands. The next story was beginning as mine was coming to an end. It was a perfect ending too. I only wished my mum had been around to see it.

  Morag acted like my mum though, telling me how proud she was of me, crying at the sight of me in the dress.

  It felt like a lifetime since I’d left Rob behind and come to the island. It was a lifetime ago really. I was entering a new life, a life with him. It was a life I was looking forward to more than anything in the world.

  After the ceremony was finished, Rob and I stood on the beach with Faith, looking out at the sea. The rest of the village was in the pub, celebrating for us while we took some time to ourselves.

  “Are you sure you want to stay here?” Rob asked, turning to look back at the village. “You don’t want to go back to England?”

  “There’s nothing there for me,” I said. “But is there enough here for you?”

  “There’s plenty,” he said, looking down at Faith in her buggy. It was an off road one, top of the range, Rob had insisted on buying it for her. It meant he could take her walking around the island, something he’d done on a daily basis since arriving.

  “Can you run things from here?”

  “Anthony’s doing most of the work. Besides, it’s about time I took a bit of a break.”

  I looked at him and thoughts of the wedding came flooding back. It had been a whirlwind at the time but now I could breathe, memories came back to me in a rush and I could suddenly picture every moment. Me standing in the tiny little church, the entire population of the village beaming at me from the ancient pews. I wore the white dress that had belonged to Morag’s grandmother, making me terrified I might tear some of the intricate lacework.

  Rob walking in, his eyes fixed on mine. My heart bursting with pride and love at the sight of him The sun shining just as we said our vows. Me looking at his face and trying to understand why I’d thought it was a good idea to leave him behind.

  Never again, I told myself.

  “I’ve bought you something,” Rob said, interrupting my thoughts. “I hope you like it.”

  “What?” I asked as the waves began to lap at my feet. “You’ve been buying me more things?”

  “Just one more thing,” he said, taking hold of the buggy and pushing it whilst we walked back up into the village. “Maybe two.” He stopped in front of my little house, the place Morag had rented to me when I’d first arrived, the only vacant property on the island. “I bought you two things.”

  He told me to close my eyes and I did, feeling his hands slide to the back of my neck. “What is it?” I asked.

  “Open your eyes and see.”

  I looked down and found myself staring at the necklace from his mansion. “Cleopatra’s?” I asked, running my fingers over it.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Hope’s.”

  “It’s too much,” I said. “I can’t take it.”

  “You can and you will and you can take this present too.” He pointed at the house and I looked at it and then back at him.

  “You didn’t? You bought the house?”

  “Morag wanted some retirement money,” he replied. “Is that enough proof that I want to stay here?” he asked, turning me to face him.

  “You shouldn’t have bought it,” I replied, shaking my head coldly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I heard that it’s haunted.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yep. I bet you’re too scared to stay in it now you know that.”

  “Stay in a haunted house?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve done it before.”

  “I bet you won’t last the night.”

  “How much do you bet?”

  “A pound. The traditional amount.”

  He shook my hand firmly before kissing me. “You’re on.”

  Then he took hold of the buggy and the three of us went up the path and into the house together, closing the door behind us.

  EPILOGUE

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” she yelled over the sound of the rotor blades turning. Her voice came through the headset as I looked across at my wife.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” I replied, leaning across to kiss her. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  It had taken some planning. First of all I’d had to leave the children with Morag. Faith was old enough to ask where we were going but little Charity just gurgled up at us both when we said goodbye.

  It had taken more than a year to sort out but at last it was happening. We flew across the ocean and then down over the border into England, the pilot knowing exactly where I wanted to go.

  We came in to land in a field next to a farm track, the rotors slowly coming to a stop as I jumped down and took Hope’s hand, leading her far enough away for us to talk to each other in a normal voice. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around her at the building in the distance.

  “Don’t you recognise it?” I asked, leading the way forwards.

  She shook her head. “It’s kind of familiar but I don’t know where from.”

  “Well, you were taken away from here when you were very young. It took me a very long time to track it down. If Harry was alive, he’d probably have done it in a week but…” I lapsed into silence, taking a moment to pay silent respect to him.

  “Rob,” Hope said, stopping dead. “Is this…?”

  “Come and see,” I said, pointing at the house as it grew nearer.

  There was someone on the doorstep and as we approached she took a faltering step towards us. Hope’s grip on my hand fell away as she looked at her mother for the first time since she’d been torn away from her.

  “Hi, mum,” she said, sprinting over to her and throwing her arms around her back.

  I stood and watched, smiling gently as they embraced. They both cried and I gave them a minute together.

  “Mum,” Hope said, pulling her over to me. “This is Rob. Rob, this is Mum.”

  “Hello, Rob,” she said. “We spoke on the phone but it’s lovely to finally meet you in person.”

  “And you,” I replied, letting her shake my hand. “You weren’t easy to find, it must run in the family.”

  We were all huddled together in the parlour of the little farmhouse a few minutes later, Hope still wiping away the last tears from her cheek.

  “I can’t believe you have two children, I’d love to meet them.”

  “Then why not come back with us?” I asked, looking across at Hope. “Reckon there’s room in there for three?”

  Hope nodded, turning to nod to her mother. “Want to come with us?”

  “In the helicopter? I don’t know. I’ve never been in a helicopter before.”

  “You soon get used to it.”

  “Well, I packed a bag like you told me to, Rob. But I don’t know about a helicopter, aren’t they dangerous?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Hope said, taking her hand and leading her outside.

  I followed with the suitcase, catching up with them in time for the three of us to climb aboard. The pilot got things ready as we strapped ourselves in.

  “Ready?” Hope asked as the rotors began to whir.

  “Ready.”

  “Time to go meet the grandchildren,” I said as we slowly lifted into the air, leaving the farmhouse and the past far behind us.

  THE END<
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  If you enjoyed this, you may also like Kept Safe. Turn the page to sample the first few chapters for free.

  KEPT SAFE

  (SNEAK PEEK)

  PROLOGUE

  JACK

  She was waiting for me. I had to be quick. I didn’t want to leave her alone for too long. I picked up the knife and sliced through the sandwich, dividing it into quarters, the way she used to like them. I hoped she still did. Two types of cheese, grated, not sliced, ketchup not mayo, no butter. I made the same for myself but left mine on the counter. I’d eat after I’d made sure she’d had hers.

  I walked through the house, thinking how different it was now I had her company. It looked the same as ever, there was no sign of another person anywhere. But I knew she was there, and that was what mattered. She was there with me, where she was meant to be. The loneliness I’d felt for so long was gone, vanished as if it had never been. I had a purpose for the first time in years. It was my job to keep her safe.

  I carried the plate carefully, balancing it in my left hand while I rummaged in my pocket with my right. I found what I was looking for after a few seconds.

  Sliding the key into the lock, I turned it slowly. With a quiet click, the door opened. The stairs on the other side descended into the darkness. I felt a sense of excitement. She was down there. In the dark. Waiting for me.

  I had barely taken a single step down before she began to scream. I quickly shut the door behind me, locking the sound in the cellar with us where no one else would hear it. As I began to walk down the steps, her screams grew in volume and pitch, muffled in the bag but still loud enough to make my ears ring.

  “Cut that out,” I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs. She was there on the bed, just where I’d left her, making such a racket. Naked, limbs bound, bag over her head, squirming and fighting to free herself. She continued to scream, thrashing about like a fish out of water, her delicious ass pointing towards me. She looked sexy as hell. “I said cut that out.”

  A new pitch to her screams.

  “You either stop screaming or there’ll be trouble.”

  She ignored me. What choice did I have? Sighing, I put the plate down on the cabinet next to the bed. Twisting on my feet, I raised my hand and brought it slapping down onto her ass. It sure stung my hand so it must have stung the hell out of her. At once, two things happened. A bright red palm print appeared on her buttock. She also stopped screaming.

  It was only a momentary silence but it was enough to tell me she was starting to pay attention. She began with the noise again, tugging at her bonds, as if she’d be able to get free from my knotwork. I spanked her harder, whipping my hand down on her ass as she struggled to get away. Sinking onto the bed, I knelt on the back of her legs, holding her in place so I could swat her ass more easily. Then I went to work.

  By the time she finally stopped screaming, my hand was aching from spanking her for so long. Her ass was burning hot, something I could easily tell as I let my fingers remain on her for a few more seconds, brushing downwards towards her thighs, my cock hardening at the slight flash of what dwelt between her legs.

  I wanted her so badly.

  I wanted to shove her legs apart with my knees and ram myself into her. Then she could scream all she liked. Instead, I stood up. “That’s better,” I said, taking advantage of the bag over her head to stare at her body without her knowing I was doing it. She looked incredible. Her legs were slender, pale in the sickly glow of the cellar light. Her ass was perfect, curved and flawless. I wanted to kiss my way up her back, twist her round and make her mine.

  She was in more danger than she realised. The first time I’d seen her, she was in danger too. She was three years old then, playing in her backyard without a care in the world. It was the middle of the day. The sun was high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen anywhere. But to me when I arrived, she looked like was playing in the dark, an oncoming storm rumbling in the distance that she couldn’t see but I could. She was blind to the danger, oblivious to what was building around her.

  I could hear her mother and father arguing through the open window. Could she hear them too? Or was she concentrating so hard on lining up her dolls that it washed over her, the yelling growing louder as their fight grew more vicious? She was singing quietly to herself. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word…”

  I knew she was in danger, that much was obvious. I didn’t know that fifteen years later, to keep her safe, I’d abduct her from her house, carry her naked to the boot of a car, bring her here, tie her up in the cellar, leave her screaming for her freedom. Back then, I had no idea any of that was going to happen.

  All I’d wanted to do back then was protect her from what was happening in the house. I usually didn’t give a shit about kids. But there was something about her. I still remember the argument. Her mother was demanding he back off, yelling at him for wanting to take her away. “You can’t stop me seeing my own daughter.”

  “I can if you’re drunk when you turn up. You stink of booze, Zoe.”

  “Fuck you. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life anymore. I’m taking her.”

  “Try it.”

  It wasn’t my place to take sides. I knelt beside her in the garden. “Hi,” she said, smiling up at me. “Want to play?”

  From playing in the grass to bound in my basement in fifteen years. Life is pretty strange sometimes.

  She began to scream again, bringing my attention back to the present. “If you keep quiet, I’ll take the bag off,” I said. “Scream and I’ll spank you again. I can do this all day to an ass like yours.”

  She kept quiet. She might have been crying. It was hard to tell. Her shoulders were hitching but she was silent. I reached down and took hold of the bag on her head, pulling it upwards, sliding it off her messed up hair.

  She twisted her neck round as her head came into view, glaring at me with such venom that I almost fell backwards. She hated me. Sheer, unadulterated hatred. I didn’t mind. When she realised why I’d brought her here, she wouldn’t hate me, she’d thank me.

  She looked beautiful, even with her features twisted in a mixture of rage and fear. The fear enhanced her innocence. The rage made her look sexy. It was an intoxicating mix. As I looked at her, her eyes widened, her brow furrowing as she opened her mouth and said quietly, “I know you.”

  ONE

  BELLA

  When I first set eyes on him, I was naked. It feels strange now to think that my first reaction wasn’t fear. But then, why would it be? I had no reason to suspect what he was going to do to me, that he was going to kidnap me and do all of those things to me.

  It was another beautifully sunny day. The spring had been hotter than usual and it had turned into the hottest summer in as long as anyone could remember. By the time August came around, the grass in my garden was dying, yellowed and parched, no matter how often it was watered. The flowers were wilting and so was I. I’d been inside all morning, working on my book.
<
br />   Procrastinating would be a better way of putting it. The work had consisted of everything but typing. I’d rearranged my desk, organised the bedside drawers, swept the kitchen floor, the open laptop shouting at me to come and start actually hitting the keys. I finally succumbed after every item of crockery I owned had been washed up, dried, and put away.

  I managed to get halfway through chapter seven before the heat inside the house got too much for me. “Just an hour,” I told myself as I went upstairs to change into my bikini. It wouldn’t kill me to sunbathe for an hour. I’d get the rest of chapter seven done afterwards. What was the point of working from home if you couldn’t enjoy the sun from time to time?

  I was in my bedroom when he arrived. Having removed my clothes, I was just reaching down to pick up my bikini top when I caught sight of movement out of the window. It was a removals van. I paused to look, watching as it pulled up outside next door. Behind the van, a red car stopped and a man climbed out of it, arching his back before he turned towards the van. He glanced my way and I ducked out of sight, not wanting the first impression I gave my new neighbour to be that of my tits flashing him through the window.

  He had to be my new neighbour. The way he was directing the removals men couldn’t be interpreted any other way. A new neighbour. And a handsome one at that. Once my top was on, I looked out less shyly, watching as he walked up the path to the front door and unlocked it. He looked hot, very hot. Six foot at least, solid looking, tidy black suit, dark brown hair over a face that screamed mature, confident, all the things a man should be. I felt a fluttering deep inside me and I became very aware that I was wearing nothing on my bottom half.

  The height of the window meant at least no one outside could tell but I felt as if he knew. Even without him looking my way, I felt he was judging me, seeing me as nothing more than an underdressed child. I shook my head. Why did I even care what this stranger thought? I was eighteen. I was an adult. If I wanted to bend over and moon him, I could. He wasn’t the boss of me. No one was. Apart from my agent. I could flash my ass and press it against the window. Now that would be a way to break the ice. And the window.