by Ana Sparks
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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
Epilogue
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
Epilogue
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Quadruplets For The Billionaire
Ana Sparks
Layla Valentine
Contents
Ana Sparks & Layla Valentine
Quadruplets For The Billionaire
Want More?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Want More?
Layla Valentine & Ana Sparks
Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Layla Valentine
The Boss’s New Plaything
Introduction
Copyright
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
Epilogue
Layla Valentine
Do Me Doctor
Introduction
Copyright
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
Epilogue
Layla Valentine
Steal The CEO’s Daughter
Introduction
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
Epilogue
Layla Valentine & Ana Sparks
Fake It For Me
Introduction
Want More?
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Quadruplets For The Billionaire
Ana Sparks & Layla Valentine
Copyright 2017 by Ana Sparks and Layla Valentine
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author. All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
Ashley
It was a miserable day all around, if I was being honest. I was tucked away in my office on the top floor of GlobaPharm Headquarters, busying myself with the day-to-day tasks that took up the majority of my time. Work wasn’t particularly bothersome, just the opposite in fact. My boss, the only other resident of the top floor, was a handsome man with a winning personality and a charming smile. He treated me well, more like a friend than anything, though I never used that as an excuse to flake out on my work.
To say we both had the blues that day would be an understatement, though I’ll admit my reasons for feeling so down were less serious than those of Jensen Elliott. With my thirtieth birthday looming in four months’ time, a dream of mine felt as if it were drifting further out of reach as the days went by. I wanted to have a chi
ld before I hit thirty. I just couldn’t find the ideal man to do it with.
Seeking the perfect man to father my child was as difficult a task as one might guess. I had very specific desires for my sperm donor. Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, dagger-sharp wit. A good personality tacked on to all of that meant my perfect man was pretty much nonexistent, save one particular man who was decidedly off-limits. As much as I had ruminated over the possibility of settling, I couldn’t deny that I was repeatedly struck by a single thought: my boss would be the perfect father.
To make matters worse, my infatuation with Jensen made it difficult for me to simply ignore his moping around. He was always so cheerful, but that was the one day a year that he was especially cold and aloof. Very few of his employees knew the reason for his shift in attitude, though he chose to spend most of his day locked away in his office. The poor guy didn’t even feel as if he could face me the year I started working here. That was three years ago, and I could even admit to myself that I would have found his behavior rather…odd.
Over the following years, however, Jensen chose to let me in. It only made sense, I suppose; I was his personal secretary, and the man, for all his charm, wit and good looks, had trouble making friends outside of the office. He was so work-oriented that he could scarcely focus on anything else, even after everyone had clocked out. That was perhaps a troubling fact about him: he never mentally clocked out. I could respect his passion for his work, but a small part of me wished he would notice other things that were right under his nose.
For example, my painfully obvious crush on him. I knew a man like him could never see anything in his secretary, but I still held onto the hope that he would fall totally and irrevocably in love with me. Jensen was tall, with gorgeous blond locks and ocean-blue eyes that women went wild for. Truthfully, it was a wonder he wasn’t married to some lingerie model or something equally suitable for a billionaire.
A part of me felt guilty for thinking about how hot my billionaire boss was, especially obsessing over the idea while he was deep in mourning. That day marked the anniversary of his father’s death, and God help me, I should not have memorized the exact amount of time that had passed. It had been five years since the elder Elliott had died, and it clearly hadn’t been enough time to mend Jensen’s wounds. I suppose one doesn’t get over losing a father easily, though I would have been the one exception to the rule. My father ditched my mother and me before I was even old enough to walk. I couldn’t even remember his face.
By contrast, Jensen and Papa Elliott had been closer than most father-son duos. In the few times I had talked to Jensen about his father, he had described him as a wonderful man. I had no reason to doubt him, though I’ll admit it struck me as somewhat odd that the world seemed to weigh so heavily on Jensen’s shoulders. The weight only seemed to grow with every passing moment, and it all came to a head on days like this. To know Jensen was to know the happy-go-lucky person he was. It wasn’t an act; most days he was genuinely happy. To know the entirety of him, however, was to know the burden he carried.
There was also the matter of Jensen’s younger brother. Their family had anticipated that Jeffrey Elliott would be the one to carry on the family name. In other words, they expected him to live a long life with a large family. Things rarely went as planned, however.
Six months prior—also to the day, in a bizarre and terrible stroke of luck—Jensen’s younger brother had passed away at the age of twenty-seven. It had been a long time coming, and he’d suffered greatly in the last few years of his life—an agonizing battle with cancer that he ultimately lost. Jensen had confided in me that he had not been present for his brother’s death, and it was the one thing he would never forgive himself for.
As much as I tried to assure Jensen that he had done his best, that his family knew how much he loved them, he never felt as if he were enough. When Jeffrey died, so did the thoughts of carrying on the Elliott name. “It wouldn’t be the same”, he often told me. I couldn’t blame him for enjoying the single life, but a small, selfish part of me wished that things were different. It’s not like I wanted him to carry the burden of continuing the family name, but if he already had the intentions…
Shaking my head, I internally berated myself for being so self-absorbed. In spite of my adoration for the man, the throb between my thighs that became apparent every time I was fixed under his stare, I was Jensen’s friend first and foremost. Even the job came second, if I were being honest. That wasn’t to say my job wasn’t valuable, especially considering the fact that I would likely end up a single mother if I ever found a suitable sperm donor. As a matter of fact, Jensen had just given me enough of a raise to encourage my pursuit of other options besides a conventional family.
While a part of me still ached for a man to hold me in his strong arms at night, I was running out of time. Some stubborn, instinctual part of my mind insisted that I get pregnant by the time I turned thirty, and my ovaries were working in overdrive, sending sharp pains through my chest every time I saw the smiling face of an infant or toddler. At one point, I thought I was dying, but no. I was struck with baby fever through and through.
Hysterical is a word I would use to describe the place I was in. Not ha-ha hysterical, but driven so mad by the thought of spending my life childless that I was torn between laughing and sobbing at any given moment.
I took a calming breath, trying to focus my attention on the work that I was, as mentioned, receiving ample pay for. I wasn’t getting a paycheck for having a nervous breakdown on the clock, so I resolved to let the misery out as soon as I arrived at my apartment. My empty, lonely apartment.
Slamming my hands on my desk, I pushed away from it and rose from my plush office chair. I walked toward the window, staring out at the San Diego skyline. GlobaPharm Headquarters was by far the tallest building in the city, and looking down, I could barely make out the people on the streets below. I wish it had put things in perspective, but it only served to heighten the ache in my heart. I felt so alone, up in this towering building.
One thing kept me steady in that grim moment of not knowing where my future would lead. It was a simple thing, likely laughable for anyone else I may have divulged it to: the fact that Jensen was just in the next room was all it took to bring me down from a ten to a two on the anxiety scale; well, maybe not a two…more like a low six. It was better than being on the verge of sobbing, anyway.
I inhaled another calming breath, closing my eyes and focusing on the moment. Once I was calm enough to open them, I walked back toward my desk. Sinking into my chair, I let out a frustrated sigh.
It was bad enough to be lovesick. It was even worse when accompanied with that strong dose of baby fever. I took a long sip from my water bottle, focusing my attention back on my computer monitor. It was nearly lunch, which gave me an idea that was paradoxically both horrible and fantastic: maybe seeing Jensen would cheer us both up a bit.
Chapter 2
Ashley
I didn’t expect Jensen to emerge from his office anytime soon, not even for lunch, if previous years were any indication. I pushed away from my desk once more, ticking off my mental checklist as I strode to the elevator. There was a small café on the corner, and they were well known for having the best pastries in town. I knew they were something of a weakness for my handsome boss, so what could be better than bringing him one of his favorite treats?
Maybe he would even ask me to join him for the impromptu snack, though I could certainly think of things I’d rather be doing with him. For example, getting bent over his desk and thoroughly plowed. Call me crude, but a girl has to know what she wants, even if there was no chance in hell of me getting it.
Trying to banish thoughts of what Jensen might look like under his suit from my head, I pressed the button to slide the elevator doors open. Waiting casually, I was grateful that I didn’t have to fight dozens of people for access on this floor. It was only Jensen and me at the top, so I suppose it could be viewed as lonely. I only ho
ped that he knew he could come to me at any time, regardless of how hot I was for him. I wondered if it was as obvious as it felt, if he were hyper-aware of my feelings for him and tried to play nice in an effort not to break my heart.
The thought was a worrying one, but as the elevator dinged pleasantly, I focused on the task at hand and stepped inside. I should have tried to slip away before the lunch hour was in full swing, but there was nothing I could do about it at that point. I could only press myself against the back corner of the elevator while more and more people piled inside.
“Ashley! How’s the boss doing today?” a coworker whose name I couldn’t place asked me. I did little more than smile and shrug my shoulders, not knowing what a more appropriate reaction would have been.
The guy seemed to scrutinize me for a moment, but he was quickly pushed to the opposite side of the elevator as more people piled inside. I prayed under my breath that we would descend the last few floors without needing to stop.
Fortunately, it seemed the gods were on my side that day. As soon as we hit the ground floor, everyone spilled out as quickly as possible.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head and tried to remain dignified as I stepped out as well. I glanced at the clock hanging above the reception desk, noting that I was making decent time at the very least. I walked quickly toward the exit of the building, smiling contentedly to myself as I stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. The hustle and bustle of city life was something I wouldn’t have traded for anything. It was probably strange, but I had a soft spot for the sound of traffic, people shouting to be heard over the ruckus, the towering buildings that reminded me just how small we all really were.
The café was a short walk from the office, and I was glad to be outside. Nary a cloud was to be seen in the sky, the sun shining brightly upon the city sidewalks. I realized that I was romanticizing things again, and quickly darted in the direction of my destination. The line wasn’t too long, and I drew a few dollars from my wallet, stepping up to the counter to order a fruit-filled puff pastry, along with a cappuccino for Jensen and a caramel macchiato for myself.
