Billionaire's Baby Promise (Mills & Boon Desire) (Billionaires and Babies, Book 79)

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “I thought...” she said slowly, trying to wrap her head around it. “I thought you were a political consultant.”

  “I am. I mean, I was. My grandfather taught me a lot about manipulating the press and controlling appearances. By the time I went to college, I’d learned how to cover my tracks. I didn’t want him watching me and I didn’t want people to find out how much I was worth. If men like Brian White—” Christine physically shuddered at the mention of the name. “Yeah, that. If he knew that I was a billionaire...”

  “Wait.” Christine sat up. “You’re a billionaire?”

  His smile tightened. “It changes things, I know.”

  She didn’t know why she was surprised. After all, it made sense. He owned three homes in two different countries. He had a private jet on standby at all times. Everything in this apartment—he really was rich. She just hadn’t put a dollar amount to that. “Does it, though?”

  It was physically painful, the way his self-deprecating smile faded into something that looked much sadder. “It does.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought home with me. I don’t know what it is about you, Christine. Two years ago, I knew that I was crossing a line. But it was too late—I couldn’t stop what I’d started.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t regret making sure your father lost. But after what I did to you, I realized—that was what my grandfather would have done. He would’ve looked for weaknesses and exploited them mercilessly. It didn’t matter how innocent anyone was, not to him. And I...” his voice trailed off.

  “And you’re not him,” she said, her voice gentle.

  She could tell by the way he grimaced that he didn’t quite believe that. “After the election, I got out of the game. Zeb had decided to get control of the brewery and I knew I could help him accomplish his goals.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I spent so long trying not to be the man my grandfather demanded but when it came down to the important things—to someone like you—I realized I was exactly the man he’d created. And I couldn’t be that person anymore.”

  She tucked her head back against his chest and tried to make sense of it all. Even if it were the middle of the afternoon and she was fully awake, she wasn’t sure she could.

  As she thought back through everything he had just said—all those secrets he carried—one thing stuck out. She pushed herself off his chest and looked him in the eyes. “He was wrong about you,” she told him, hearing echoes of something he had said to her just a few days ago.

  His gaze shuttered. “What?”

  “All those things he said—because he said them to you, right? That you weren’t Korean enough, that you weren’t good enough? He was wrong. Just as my father is wrong about me.”

  He looked away. “I know that. I’ve known that for years.”

  “But it’s one thing to know it and another thing to believe it,” she pressed. “I don’t know what it’s like to have an unforgiving grandfather or what it’s like to be a part of two cultures or two families who don’t know what to do with you. But I do know what it’s like to grow up with a man who believes your very existence was a mistake and I know what it’s like to have that voice in your head reminding you how wrong you are no matter what you do or how hard you try.”

  That had been her whole life, hadn’t it? Trying to meet some impossible standard that would always be out of reach because, according to her father, she was a daughter of Eve and therefore a sinner. And she’d long ago decided that if she would always be a sinner, she might as well earn that title.

  “You don’t have to be the person he says you are or should be. And...” Unexpectedly, her eyes started to water. “And you don’t have to prove anything to him. My father will never know me and he’ll never know his granddaughter because that’s his choice. Who am I to argue with him?”

  She’d thought she had made peace with this years ago. But she had proven herself wrong. The first time she’d had sex with Daniel—hadn’t she decided that if wanting him made her an unnatural sinner of the first order, so be it? Those weren’t her words—they were her father’s. Even when she’d thought she had built a wall between them, he still found his way into her head.

  Daniel looked at her with such tenderness that she didn’t know what to make of it. “How can you stand it?” he asked. “How can you sit there and treat me like I’m a decent human being, after what I did to you?”

  She’d spent the better part of the last few weeks asking herself the same question. And she wasn’t any closer to an answer. “I don’t know. But we were both different people then, weren’t we? I changed because of what happened two years ago. And I think...” she touched his face. “I think you did, too.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I changed enough.” He tried to look away, back to the computer screen and the other half of his life that no one else knew about.

  But she wouldn’t let him. “Why did you tell me about this?” she asked, waving at the screen.

  He shrugged as if he were trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably. “You’re here. I owe you an explanation for why I was calling into a board meeting at two in the morning.”

  “I don’t believe that for one second, Daniel Lee. It’s because you trust me.” She took a deep breath, knowing it was the truth. “Just like I trust you. I forgive you for what happened two years ago, Daniel. I forgive you,” she repeated and the words seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders.

  Something flitted across his face that she couldn’t interpret. “I can’t promise you anything, Christine. We’ve got another day or two but beyond that...”

  Beyond that, there couldn’t be anything between them. Their worlds were too different. “I don’t want any promises, Daniel.” Because if he didn’t make any promises, then, when they went their separate ways, she wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t keep them. “Let’s just enjoy what we’ve got for the time being.”

  He stared at her for the longest moment. “Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “It’s time to go to bed.”

  * * *

  Like all good things, Daniel’s time with Christine came to an end. And when it did, he wished that it hadn’t.

  For two more days, they essentially played house. Christine slept in his bed. They ate their meals around the table and visited the Chicago Children’s Museum at the Pier a second time. Minnie came over to play with Marie.

  Daniel got the chance to do something he rarely did—he relaxed and had fun. True, he couldn’t ignore reality for long. He had to get up for another middle of the night call to the board of Lee Enterprises. And he constantly monitored the impact of Christine’s interview. But when all that was done, she was waiting for him in bed.

  Something had changed between them. He didn’t want to be so naïve as to think those three little words—“I forgive you”—were the reason why. They were just words and, besides, he didn’t exactly deserve her forgiveness.

  He didn’t deserve her at all—not her affection, not her trust. He didn’t deserve Marie’s sweet smiles or her silly nickname for him. Christine was convinced she wasn’t good enough for him because of her past and his wealth—but she had it all wrong.

  He wasn’t good enough for her. Because if he were, he’d be able to keep his hands off her. He’d be able to give her space.

  And he couldn’t, selfish bastard that he was.

  As a piece of marketing, the interview was a success. It got some good press and one cable news show spent an hour debating whether or not Christine really had an impact on any election, present or past. Natalie fielded the media requests, but—aside from one or two news outlets that were clearly looking to sell a particular angle—the interview diffused the gossip.

  It also helped that Clarence Murray got a challenger in the Republican field—a state senator who just happened to be a moderate while at the same time being a Methodist minister. He was conservative but not on the fringe. Daniel could see Brian White’s h
and at work as the Murray campaign pivoted, leaving Christine behind.

  Which meant their time was almost up. Daniel needed to get her back to her life. But more than that, he needed to get back to his own—board meetings and beer tastings and expensive condominiums around the world, always watching. Back to being alone and somehow thinking that kept his grandfather from dictating his choices in life.

  No, that wasn’t true. He had things to do—companies to run, situations to monitor. He had plenty to keep him busy. Except...

  If Daniel chose to be alone in order to spite the old man—who’d been dead for almost thirteen years—then wasn’t he still letting his grandfather dictate his choices?

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he made his peace with Christine and fulfilled his promise to protect her and Marie. He was a man of honor. Maybe his grandfather would’ve been proud of him for that, if nothing else.

  Christine refused to take any of the clothes and toiletries, so Daniel left instructions to have everything boxed up and mailed to her. It wasn’t like he had any use for ladies’ tops or toddler jammies.

  His mother came over to say goodbye and Daniel was stunned when Minnie got teary. “You take care,” she told Christine, sniffing, patting Christine’s cheek and rubbing Marie’s back. “And if there’s anything I can ever do for you, please let me know.”

  “I will,” Christine said, wrapping an arm around his mother and hugging her tight.

  This tearful farewell made him feel things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling.

  Emotion was a weakness, a vulnerability. If he cared about something, that something—or someone—could be used against him. At one point, he had loved his grandfather. He had wanted his grandfather’s approval and the old man had used that against him, always dangling a kind word or an affectionate pat on the shoulder just out of Daniel’s reach, like a carrot tied to the end of the long stick.

  That hadn’t changed. If Brian White ever figured out that Daniel cared for Christine and Marie, Daniel knew what would happen. The man would come after them with guns drawn and murder in his eyes. White would convince himself his actions were justified because Daniel had dared care about someone.

  Because he did. It was pointless to deny it. He cared for Christine. He cared for Marie.

  So the best way to keep them safe was to stay away from them. He would go back to doing what he should have done from the very beginning—monitoring the situation from a distance, running interference with an invisible hand. He would keep Natalie involved for as long as needed. He would be vigilant. There was no room for error.

  So why did this feel like such a mistake?

  The flight back to Denver was nearly silent. What was there to say? He had already screwed up her life enough. Doing anything foolish like asking to see her again or even asking her to come home with him—even for one more night—would only prolong the inevitable.

  Daniel had, of course, planned for every contingency upon their arrival back in Denver. When the jet doors opened, suddenly he found himself talking. “Porter Cole is here with your car. I’ve arranged for him or one of his associates to shadow you for the next week or two, just to be safe.” Her eyebrows jumped up. “But I don’t think you’ll have any problems. The news cycle has moved on. You should be fine from here on out.”

  She was silent as they gathered up Marie and walked down the jet’s stairs. “So,” Christine said as they headed to her car. “This is it?”

  What he should’ve said was yes. A clean break. No one would ever draw a connection between Christine Murray and Daniel Lee. It was better this way.

  But that’s not what came out of his mouth. “For now. You still have my number?” She nodded. “Call me anytime, if there’s anything you need. Anytime,” he repeated, pointedly not cupping her cheek in his hand and not pulling her into an embrace.

  Marie blinked up at him sleepily. “My anal,” she murmured around the thumb in her mouth.

  “My Marie,” he said, patting her back. “You be good for Mommy, okay?”

  Christine buckled her daughter into the car seat and then turned back to Daniel, her face so blank it hurt to see it. “You won’t call me, will you?”

  Daniel had never let himself fall in love and, therefore, had never let his heart get broken. He wondered if this was what it felt like. “No.”

  She tried to smile, but the corner of her mouth pulled down into a frown. “I see.” Then, unexpectedly, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him and, fool that he was, he let her. He did more than that. He held her tight and kissed her back, thinking that this was it. The End.

  “Phones work both ways,” she whispered. With that, she climbed into her car. With a dawning sense of horror, all Daniel could do was watch her drive away.

  “That must have been some trip to Chicago,” Porter said as he walked over to Daniel. “You’re really going to let her go?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be following her?” he demanded, trying his best to ignore the stab of... something Porter’s observation sparked in his chest.

  “Yes, sir,” Porter said with a mocking salute. He climbed into his own vehicle and took off, leaving Daniel alone.

  Just like always.

  He could call her. Just to check in, see how she was doing. He could ask about Marie, make sure she got the clothes and things. He could...

  No. To keep in contact with Christine—or, worse, see her—would be a risk. To both of them.

  So what if he’d been able to relax around her? So what if he’d brought her to his home, his bed? So what if he’d told her who he really was and so the hell what that she had understood, damn it—understood the impossible burdens his grandfather had put upon Daniel’s shoulders at an age when most kids were worried about learning to ride bikes and play video games?

  None of it mattered, as long as she was safe from the damage he’d unleashed upon her life. From him.

  She might have forgiven him.

  But he couldn’t forgive himself.

  Fourteen

  A week passed. Christine tried to go back to normal. She returned to her job at the bank and made up a story about staying with an old college friend. Not that Sue or anyone else at the bank bought that, but they didn’t press her.

  Things with Marie were rough. The little girl wanted to do all of the fun things with Daniel and Minnie. And when neither of those two people appeared, she threw a fit that seemed to last for days.

  Which just reminded Christine how much she had enjoyed the vacation, as well. It’d been such a relief to have Minnie there to watch Marie for a little bit while she...

  It felt wrong to admit that it had been a relief not to have to think about Marie—but it was the truth. For a few days, she had taken some time for herself.

  And what had she done with that time?

  Nothing much. She’d only fallen in love with Daniel.

  She wanted to think that, with time and space, she would get over it. The daily grind would wear her down until that time in Chicago was little more than a dream.

  It had very nearly been a dream come true.

  More than once, Christine called up Daniel’s contact information. She hadn’t heard from him. She hadn’t expected to—but there’d been a kernel of hope that he’d miss her, that maybe she’d meant something to him.

  After all, he’d told her about his life in Korea and his grandfather and the fact that Daniel was a billionaire but worked as an executive vice-president in a midsized brewery in Denver, of all things. He trusted her. He liked her. He’d introduced her to his mother, for crying out loud.

  These thoughts were the quickest way to madness because he had also told her he would always keep his word and he had, for better or for worse, promised that he would not call her again. And he hadn’t.

  She knew he wouldn’t. The simple fact was that, until he accepted that she’d forgiven him for what had happened two years ago, he wouldn’t.

  No, that wasn’t r
ight. She wouldn’t hear from him until he’d forgiven himself. And she didn’t know if he was capable of doing that.

  Which was reassuring, in an odd sort of way. He wasn’t treating her like a convenient bed buddy. Which was why she wasn’t going to call him, either. She simply didn’t want him to think she was only interested in him because of what he could do for her—the clothes, the jet, the luxury condo.

  All of those things were nice but they weren’t what made Daniel who he was.

  He was gorgeous and rich, true. And maybe for a lot of people, that would’ve been enough. But he was also the only man who had ever stood up for her, with her. Every other man had cut her loose the moment the shit hit the fan. Her father had turned on her and Doyle had abandoned her. But Daniel?

  He ran toward the danger. He told her she was worth defending.

  More than that, he made her feel beautiful and whole and valuable—things she had been taught she didn’t deserve.

  Then the boxes arrived—four boxes of designer clothes and makeup, toys and outfits for Marie. There was no note—of course there wasn’t. But they were from him.

  She sat in her bedroom, staring at it all and trying not to cry. The cardigan she’d worn the afternoon he’d taken her to bed was in there—she lifted it out and it smelled like him.

  This was fine. Everything was okay. All these things were just...souvenirs from the most unusual, wonderful vacation she’d ever had. Yes, that was it. And she was only sad because the vacation was over. Not because she didn’t know if Daniel had sent her these boxes to purge any trace of her from his apartment—and his life—or if he’d wanted to make sure she had something to remember him by.

  Because she certainly wasn’t ever going to forget him.

  * * *

  It was Sunday—two and a half weeks since Christine had returned to Denver a changed woman. Marie was having a fussy morning after a night of broken sleep but Christine was going to church, darn it. Because if she sat home with Marie, she would start to wallow in unproductive self-pity and who had time for that? Not her. Besides, Marie was already wallowing enough for both of them.