The British Billionaire's Baby

by Cristina Grenier

  How could she? She wanted Sebastian more than just about anything at this point – except perhaps pickles and mint chocolate chip ice cream.

  But that was another issue entirely.

  “Hey, where are we going?” Eager to change the subject before she wet her panties through, she looked up to find them in the midst of a neighborhood she didn’t recognize in the slightest. “Are we even close to the manor?”

  Not that that was saying much. All of London was still pretty overwhelming.

  “We actually have some business to attend to today.” Before Sebastian had even finished his statement, Gabby was groaning in exasperation.

  “Sebastian, you know I never want to go anywhere after a Doctor’s appointment. My fingers are itching to get to my canvases! I swear, if you try to parade me into some tea room right now I will throw a goddamn fit.”

  Instead of annoying him, her childish antics seemed only to amuse him. He cast her an indulgent smile as he took the next left. “I think you’ll quite enjoy today’s errand.”

  Gabrielle only glared at him, silence falling between them for a good ten minutes before Sebastian pulled into what appeared to be an immense shopping district. Brand name stores lined the streets and the place exuded the glitz and glamour of Fifth Avenue – swarming with twice the number of people. Gabrielle opened her mouth to protest. Though she’d accepted the clothing Sebastian had procured for their public appearances, she was still stolid on her refusal to spend his money frivolously. She had never been that kind of girl.

  However, a quick rap on her window distracted her before she could speak a word. The young woman turned to see Phillip’s pale face beyond the glass. The man had grown a beard and cut his hair short, but he still wore the same coke-bottle glasses and dazed look she’d come to know.

  “Phillip!” She shrieked in excitement before almost tumbling out of the car and into his arms. “Oh My God, Phillip!”

  “Well, let’s just forget all about me, why don’t we?” With a sound of pure delight, she turned to launch herself into Tristan’s embrace. She was shocked to see that the man had shorn his signature braid to rock a shorter, shoulder-skimming style not unlike Sebastian’s. As always, he was the pinnacle of fashion in a pinstriped vest, slacks, a navy button up and gleaming loafers. “Careful there, darling. We wouldn't want to hurt the little one.” As she drew back, Tristan patted her stomach with a fond smile.

  “Jesus Christ, it’s been forever!” She couldn’t keep from grinning as she looked from one man to the other. She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see their faces.

  “A month and a half, something like that.” Tristan chucked her chin affectionately. “Glad to see you’re looking so well, sweetheart. Pregnancy seems to be suiting you.”

  “Ugh, it’s awful,” She only half-lied, “I’m sore all the time, my hormones are raging constantly and I’m gaining weight like no one’s business.”

  “Well, I can understand how the pain and weight gain might be pretty awful, but I can’t help but think that some of those hormones must be quite rewarding with Mr. Sebastian Delicious III at hand.” Tristan’s suggestive wink had her blushing to the roots of her hair as she whirled to see if Sebastian had heard the declaration.

  He had.

  He was leaning against the car, watching the scene with no small amount of amusement. Gabrielle tried not to drool over the picture he made, clad in deep brown slacks and a steel colored sweater with a white button up beneath. She knew that beneath those clothes lay a body that could rival Michelangelo’s David and the mere thought was enough to make her knees weak.

  When Sebastian met her gaze, it was almost as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and his eyes smoldered in answering desire.

  “Please, darlings, tone it down a bit.” Tristan’s voice cut into the moment as he looked on, his expression utterly scandalized. “We’re in a public place!”

  “How…how did you guys know we were going to be here?” Gabby changed the subject quickly, toying with her hair to hide her embarrassment.

  “His highness asked us to meet you.” Tristan smirked, nodding in Sebastian’s direction. “He mentioned you might need a break and have absolutely no fashionable maternity wear for the next two trimesters. Appalling.”

  Surprised, Gabby looked to her “husband” in incredulity. He had called Tristan? The man who had, as diplomatically as he possibly could, informed her shortly after his mother’s arrival that he couldn’t be seen with the man or risk the Duchess’ backlash? “You…you called Tristan?”

  Sebastian shrugged sheepishly. “He’s followed you all the way here and you’ve barely seen one another. Besides, he does come in handy. I certainly can’t get you to buy clothes.”

  She allowed the snide comment to pass in her confusion. “But what about…the Duchess?”

  The earl merely curved his lips upward in a secretive smile. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. We’re halfway across town and we’ll be discreet.”

  For a moment, Gabrielle stared at him, overcome with an emotion she couldn’t quite explain. Sebastian was risking his mother’s wrath to do something that made her happy. He was stepping outside of all the protocol and pressure to let her live a little.

  And thanks to the pressures of British high society, she realized exactly the scope of the sacrifice he was making. “Thank you.” She said the words before she lost the gall, her expression soft as she took in the man before her.

  She was beginning to discover she didn’t know Sebastian anywhere near as well as she’d thought.

  “Of course.” The man fixed her with his clear blue gaze, and in that moment, something twisted inside Gabrielle that had her flushing as she looked away quickly.

  Clearing his throat, Tristan once more intruded on their moment. “Apologies, you two, but we don’t have much time and there are a hell of a lot of clothes to buy. And have you even started to buy for the baby?”

  “Nothing I’ve seen for myself.” Gabby scowled. “The Duchess has ordered a shit ton from shops I’ve never heard of. She won’t even let me see the catalogues.”

  “Well, fuck her.” Tristan replied primly, linking his arm with the young woman’s as he winked down at her. “No offense meant.” He shot the statement in Sebastian’s direction and the earl merely smirked.

  “None taken.”

  “We’ll get things for you and the little squirt.” Tristan began steering her in the direction of a cluster of shops across the street. “Come on, Phillip.”

  As the man’s husband and Sebastian trailed behind them, Gabby eyed the designer at her side with no small amount of suspicion. “Whose money are we using to buy all this stuff?”

  “Darling, please.” Tristan’s tone was long suffering. “What does it matter? It’s there to spend and I haven’t come halfway across London to spend the only time I might see you arguing over trivialities. Suck it up.” He bent to pat her stomach with a fond smile. “It’s for the baby. Think of it that way.”

  Well, when he put it that way…the baby did need clothes – something that didn’t look like 1890’s pinafore at least. She was sure the Duchess had chosen something awful and dated. If she had any say in things, her son or daughter was going to be stylish. Luckily enough for her, her best friend was the foremost authority on the subject.

  “Sebastian, dear, do try to keep up.” Grinning, Tristan steered her towards a shop that reeked of three hundred dollar perfume. “We’ve got a busy evening ahead of us.”

  **

  “She doesn’t seem to protest nearly so much when she gets into it.”

  Sebastian was seated on a couch next to Tristan, both of them sipping from cups of tea with copious amounts of milk and sugar. Phillip had been employed to help the numerous sales women to bring their mountains of selections over to Gabrielle to try on. While she’d been hesitant at first, the longer the shopping excursion went on, the more the young woman began to accept her lot and actually started to enjoy herse
lf.

  Sebastian and Tristan were surrounded on all sides by the innumerable bags containing their purchases and even Amir had been called in to help. The stolid man never missed an opportunity to assist Sebastian and the earl knew he could depend on him to keep his mouth shut.

  “Yes, the problem is getting her into it. She’s so damn stubborn.”

  Sebastian repressed a smile as he watched the man beside him sip his tea primly. He didn’t know what his mother had against gays, really. He’d seen more flamboyant men at his own family gatherings.

  “That she is.”

  They watched Gabby gush over a tiny white and green onesie as she herself pranced around in a flattering marigold hued sundress that accentuated her rounding curves. It was the happiest Sebastian had seen the young woman in a long time, and the sight warmed him quite a bit – at least as much as listening to his child’s heartbeat on the monitor in the hospital.

  “You’re lucky, you know.”

  He looked over to see Tristan gesturing to a nearby salesgirl for more tea. Arching a brow, he set his own cup down. “Am I?”

  Tristan turned back to him to fix Sebastian with an amber gaze that spoke volumes of the world it had experienced. “You are. You might think that Gabby’s the one with all the luck – pushed into the spotlight and pampered by a rich handsome man – mother of the child that will surely capture the adoration of the British public…but really, you’re the lucky one.”

  Sebastian didn’t know quite what to say, and so, he simply let the man continue. Tristan nodded in the direction of the woman holding up a red silk maternity top to her torso. “Gabrielle’s been through a lot, Sebastian. She lost her mother when she needed her the most and her father doesn’t give two shits about her. The only thing that’s ever made her truly happy is her painting…until now.”

  Looking over his shoulder at Gabby’s radiant smile, Tristan’s lips curved in what was unmistakably love. Not the kind of love that one had for a romantic interest, but the kind of intense loyalty that connected people across lifetimes. “Pregnancy has changed her. Even through all of the hoops she’s had to jump through, she’s genuinely anticipating motherhood. Her panic has turned to excitement. She is going to love this baby like she has nothing before – which means that like it or not, even after it’s born – whatever reason you concoct for sending her away – she’ll remain a part of your life by default. So, whatever you’re planning, do it gently.”

  The saleswoman poured him another cup of tea and Tristan fell into a discreet silence until she had moved away. When he looked at Sebastian again, his honey colored gaze held a touch of something dangerous – something that inspired trepidation in the earl as nothing had since his years in the armed forces. “If you hurt Gabby, I will find you. I’ll get to you through that hunk of Arabian man flesh that you keep around and I’ll snatch your balls out through your throat so I can watch you bleed your highborn blood all over the Duchess’ marble foyer.”

  The man’s smile was nothing but cordial as he sipped at his libation, his hair perfectly coiffed, and Sebastian didn’t think he’d ever been more intimidated in his life. “Are we perfectly clear?”

  “Absolutely.” What else could he say?

  Though he doubted that the man was capable of so crude an act, the mere fact that he’d uttered the words demonstrated his absolute devotion to Gabrielle. He might not kill him, but Tristan would certainly see that he suffered, and that was enough.

  “Wonderful that we’re on the same page.” Tristan’s smile was, once again, saccharine sweet, as if he hadn’t been threatening Sebastian’s manhood only moments earlier. He extended his teacup for a toast. “To the little bundle of joy then!”

  Sebastian touched his cup to the smaller man’s, caught somewhere between amusement and nervousness. Gabrielle certainly kept some…interesting company. However, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that she inspired such loyalty in the people she was closest to.

  She was, after all, quite the unique woman.

  Raising her hand, Gabrielle waved at them as she raised a bundle of the garments she’d chosen. Tristan arched a brow, glancing over at him. “Is it my go or yours?”

  Sebastian chuckled. “I wasn’t aware that we were in a pissing contest of riches, Tristan.”

  “Oh, we’re not.” Tristan set his empty teacup on the small table before them, rising. “Trust me, you’d lose.” Sebastian was left to stare after him, wondering who on earth the man could be working for that he could be making enough to rival an earl.

  Though everything around Sebastian was hectic, he was glad to see that at least his business ventures were thriving. Gabrielle was more than halfway along in her pregnancy and things had been going as smooth as could be expected – considering that his mother was still driving them halfway out of their minds.

  Though he had stopped letting her blatantly insult Gabrielle in his presence, it was harder to stop her hand when it came to planning out her grandchild’s future. It seemed that every day he received a call from some new boarding school or prestigious tutoring center inquiring about enrollment. There were orders for a pony for the developing baby and an expense account had been opened for it as well.

  One hundred thousand pounds in the bank four months before one was born – it had to be a record.

  But Sebastian knew that money wouldn’t go towards sweets and playdates and daytrips. It would be spent on learning French, Latin and other difficult languages. There would be violin and piano lessons, hours of etiquette and outings only with children of equal social stature. The Duchess would dictate the child’s every move and the more he thought on the subject, the more conflicted Sebastian became.

  He didn’t want to subject another child to the cold loneliness of his own upbringing. How many times had he seen families picnicking with their children in Trafalgar square or flying kites in the countryside? They were all smiles and contentment – and more importantly, they were together.

  He and Gabrielle would be split apart after the birth of the child – it would already be shuffled from one parent to the other. His mother wanted to keep it from its parents almost entirely for the sake of breeding, and Sebastian was beginning to realize that he detested her method of child rearing.

  Unfortunately, telling her such a thing to her face was still easier said than done. Upsetting his mother could have disastrous consequences. If she decided to go digging, there was no telling what she could find. She had the power to send Gabrielle packing at a moment’s whim, and the child with her.

  Shaking his head, Sebastian tried to concentrate on the figures on the screen before him. As he did so, the phone beside him buzzed and he cringed. If he had to answer another of his mother’s mindless messages today, he thought he might go insane. Reluctantly, he reached for his phone to check the text and his mouth fell open.

  It was Gabrielle.

  She had sent him a racy image of herself in one of the lacy nightgowns she had bought the previous month. She was stretched out on the silken sheets of their bed, her hair spread out like a dark halo around her head as she gazed into the image with a come hither expression. Her breasts, filled out at the impetus of the child growing in her belly, pressed alluringly against the neckline of the scant fabric and he could clearly see the hardened nubs of her nipples and her distended, minute belly button atop the swell of her stomach.

  Sebastian stood quickly as all the blood in his body surged downward. Good Lord, was she waiting for him, in that, right now?

  It was time to take a break from his investments.

  “Sebastian, sweetheart?”

  Instantly, he dropped back into his chair to hide his burgeoning erection as his mother’s voice carried to him. Within an instant she had breezed into the office, smelling of expensive floral perfume and clad in an elegant Prada sheath. On her arm was that aggressive little poodle she loved – Yates, if he recalled correctly. He’d often contemplated packing the little ball of fur in a miniscule box and shi
pping it to China. “There you are, darling.”

  Amelia strode across the office to deposit a number of leaflets on his desk. They were, he noticed, for another round of finishing schools that she expected him to read about, and he frowned, preparing for a lecture. “I’ve just picked these up. You can give them a quick little read through and let me know what you think. Munster’s in Switzerland is ridiculously exclusive – they only offer ten places to foreign students a year, but I’ve managed to get us an interview.”

  “A secondary school?” Sebastian attempted to keep the exasperation from his voice. “Mother, don’t you think it’s a bit early?”

  “It’s never too early, darling! The early bird gets the exclusive finishing school slot!” She laughed winningly, the sound grating on Sebastian’s nerves. “Which reminds me.” Within moments, she had dropped Yates on the floor and the little thing had pounced off to chew on a pair of his loafers. His mother dropped into the chair across from him, her expression eager. “How did the doctor’s visit yesterday go? Surely they must have some idea of the sex by now?”

  Sebastian grit his teeth, praying for composure.

  They’d given Gabby and himself their first opportunity to know their child’s sex over a month ago – they had simply elected not to be told. Gabby remained adamant every time they visited the doctor that she wanted to be surprised and the glow of anticipation in her eyes warmed his heart. He knew she would love the child regardless of its sex – she wasn’t playing favorites.

  He himself secretly hoped for a girl - a tiny thing with Gabrielle’s breathtaking eyes and curly black ringlets.

  But the Duchess demanded to know the sex as soon as they had discovered it; not because she genuinely preferred one or the other, but because knowing whether the baby was a boy or girl was vital to her plans for its future. Sebastian had been brushing her off for weeks by simply sidestepping the subject, but he knew that wouldn’t last for much longer.