Baby Fever Bride: A Billionaire Romance Read online

  I'm heading to my sister's place for a family date. It's a rare chance to see my eight month old nephew. I don't know whether it's going to be an uppercut or a relief. Sure, it'll remind me Zeno has taken away my chance to have a baby of my own someday, but it's also a way to remember I can still be the best aunt in the world to my little guy.

  I've lazily counted about half the stops, reading an article on my phone about billionaire playboy Ryan Caspian. The Michigan hottie just married his high school sweetheart a couple months ago and took off on a honeymoon cruise around the Great Lakes. Looks like the happy couple just wrapped up a visit to Chicago. They deserve it, too, after the murder-mystery hell they went through.

  Ryan's love story, wealth, and prestige instantly makes me think about Hayden. Yes, I know it's a dumb comparison. There's a better chance of dinosaurs attacking this train than a handsome billionaire sweeping me off my feet, but if I can't have that, then maybe I'll at least get a one night stand with an equally sexy suit who makes six figures.

  A girl can learn to settle. I've had plenty of practice lately, considering the crap sandwich life just served me without even including a pickle on the side.

  Except settle doesn't seem like the right word for one night with him. He looks like the kind of man I always imagined going to bed with for the first time.

  Tall, dark, devilishly handsome. I see his blue eyes closing in, consuming me, his face buried in my thighs, just like he promised. Or maybe he's looking down at me, pinning my hands high over my head in one hand, his other pulling at my panties – one quick jerk away from baring me for his desires.

  His phone chooses to shake my purse like an earthquake just then, conveniently waiting between my legs. Wonderful timing.

  I hug my bag tighter, reach inside, and pluck out the vibrating device dangerously close to the part of me that's been pulsing just thinking about him. Looks like he's finally come calling to get his phone back.

  Or maybe not. When I swipe my finger across the screen, I don't recognize the name that materializes there. It's a text from someone named Brie.

  She could be anyone. Wife, girlfriend, sister...oh, God.

  What if she's just another girl he met in the windy city, and she's texting him to set up plans? What if he does what we did on the train all the time?

  It takes me about ten seconds before I force my eyes to study the letters on the screen.

  Brie: Talk to me, Hayden. I heard about your latest little problem in the Kayla saga. I can make it all go away. Last chance.

  Positioning my finger over the screen, I'm about to do something monumentally stupid. I can't resist not knowing who I'm dealing with, or what kind of 'little problem' he has. If he's been playing me while he has a wife the whole time, I'll make sure this phone winds up at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

  Besides, it's only fair, right? He could be dissecting two years of my lunch break thoughts right now thanks to my missing black book. Why should I respect his secrets, while he has open access to mine?

  Hayden: Yeah? What problem? Who told you, Brie?

  Brie: Well wellll, I didn't expect to actually get a response! My sister knows Kayla's lawyer. She dished some really interesting things. I'll tell you more, but first I want to hear you say it.

  Hayden: What?

  Brie: “Help me.”

  I chew my lip, wondering if I should back out now while the going is good. No, I'm already in too deep. I'm never going to find out anything unless I play along.

  Hayden: Okay, fine. I'd love to get your help.

  Brie: ...is something wrong? This is almost too easy. Look, we both know about the clause in the trust. I'm game. Treat me right, put a ring on my finger, and you'll never have to worry about your family fortune again. You need a wife if you want to beat Kayla. I'm giving you an easy way to get one.

  There's a long pause. Wife? I don't even know what to say to that. Brie isn't so patient. About thirty seconds later, my screen lights up with more texts.

  Brie: Come on. It's barely been three weeks. We have chemistry. We have history. We have sex that puts everybody else to shame.

  Brie: Answer me.

  Brie: Okay, whatever. That's as far as I go. I'm NOT begging. I want a real proposal, Hayden. I'm not asking you to marry me over a fucking text message. When you want to sit down and talk, let me know. I'm waiting.

  This is officially too much. Not just the line about sex – like I need to imagine my mystery man fucking this desperate bimbo who's worth more than I'll ever be stupid.

  My finger flicks the switch to turn off the screen, and I stuff it back in my purse, moving both hands up as soon as I'm done to massage my temples.

  The absurdity hurts me physically. She wants to marry him.

  Not because there's love, or understanding, or anything like it. Rather, because it's about money and business, a cold and clinical arrangement.

  Worse, it hasn't done anything to dampen my curiosity. Before I know it, I'm reaching for the phone again.

  Who is he?

  This time, I'm careful to avoid the texting app. I start looking through his contacts, searching for familiar names.

  I find dozens. Names I recognize from the news, charities, and even politicians. There are a couple frequent contacts that stand out near the top, starred. Shaw is the name behind most of them.

  One Google search later, I'm getting nauseous. There he is, his gorgeous face lighting up the screen, blue eyes glowing like diamonds.

  Hayden Shaw, real estate mogul, heir to a local real estate empire worth several billion. Owner of the Shaw Glass Tower, the building I've worked in for almost six months.

  Probably the man who has his own private elevator with the gold doors that are always roped off and protected by guards. Hell, the man with his own private floors in the building, the ones that are always grayed out, subject of the many rumors about reclusive Princes and Sultans living in exile, here in Chicago. I always laughed at them before.

  Now? It's not so funny.

  It's him. He's real. He's got my fucking diary.

  And I'm the one holding his phone, ensuring we're going to cross paths again, as soon as I hear the magic word.

  There's only a few more stops to go before the train gets to my sister's neighborhood, thank God. I couldn't have hung on much longer because I'm about to be sick.

  “Hello, hello!” Katie opens the door beaming, holding little Chris snug in her arms. My stomach threatens to turn over a second time after I've worked so hard to settle it.

  “Hi,” I say, saving all my smiles for the handsome baby boy.

  She moves aside while I step into her perfect house. Her perfect husband, Will, comes out of the kitchen a few seconds later, a perfectly average mug of sweet scented cocoa in his hands, topped with perfect fluffy marshmallows.

  Perfect, perfect, and perfect.

  Katie never goes out of her way to rub it in my face. It's not like she really needs to when it hits me from all sides every single time I step into their beautiful home.

  “Care for a cup, Penny?” he says, flashing his newly whitened grin. “There's plenty to go around. Katie and I are dying to sit down and hear all about your trip to Cuba.”

  My lips twitch sourly. I think having Chris passed into my arms stops me from bursting into tears, spilling everything about my recent tragedy that started with the trip I never should have taken.

  “It's a good day for something sweet,” I say, making my way to their big white sofa.

  Katie sits next to me, giving me a relieved look when she sees my nephew nodding off in my arms. “Oh, now he's tired. You must have the magic touch, sis. I couldn't get him to settle down all morning.”

  “He loves his aunt,” I say proudly, squeezing the little boy tighter. “He's precious. I mean it, too. Don't worry so much, Katie. You've got all the time in the world to learn, to sort this out.”

  “Please.” My sis wrinkles her nose. “You should be the one bragging about time. There's mor
e of that on your end than I'd know what to do with. So, how was it?”

  She sips her cocoa. I nuzzle the little boy in my arms tighter, wondering how I can talk about my trip without crying thanks to the Zeno factor.

  I give her a blow-by-blow account. The days on the beach, the rum and dancing in Havana, handing out food and medicine to the villagers. The humanitarian part, I'll never regret. The Cuban government still makes Americans hide behind a specific reason for visiting their country like support for the people. I was happy to play along to make the families in the villages a little happier, even though that was probably where I received my fateful mosquito bite.

  “Wow,” Katie says, shaking her head when I'm through. “Someone had to be the adventurer in the family. I'm glad it's you, sis. As fun as it sounds, it also seems exhausting. I couldn't have kept up, especially with Chris.”

  “Give yourself some credit. You're living your dreams here at home, and carrying on the family line so mom won't jump all over me.” I nod to the baby in my arms. No matter how tragic it is that I'm never going to have kids, just seeing him brings a smile to my face.

  My brother-in-law puts a steaming cup of cocoa down next to me. “Thanks, Will,” I say.

  I'm not taking a sip until somebody else has Chris safely away. My arms fold tighter around the little boy, thinking of everything I have, and everything I've lost.

  It helps, knowing I'll always be his aunt. But it also hurts like hell, knowing I'll never have this every night, bringing up a son or daughter. I'll never have the joys that make Will's face light up when he sees his son, or the bags under my sister's eyes, suffering through the late nights.

  “I think you're holding out on us, Penny. When do we get to meet your hot new Cuban boyfriend?” Will flashes me a wink.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Please. There's nobody in the picture. I haven't had much luck finding anyone here in Chicago, much less in another country.”

  A new whirr in my purse interrupts us. Should've turned the damned phone off. I look down uneasily, wondering if it's Brie again, or if it's finally the billionaire mystery man himself, coming to find out when we can get together so I can get it back to him.

  Hell, knowing what little I know about him now, I'll probably hand it off to an assistant.

  I don't care if he was sincere about swapping numbers. There's no way he wants me for anything more than a quick, messy fling. And the more I think about that, the more used I feel. I don't think I can go through with it, even if he pulls me into his arms a second time, and reminds me how good they can be.

  “That's him now, isn't it?” Will asks, wearing his goofy smile.

  Katie turns to him and playfully lands a punch through his sweater vest. “Come on. Leave her alone. Penny here doesn't date much. That's her business. Mom gives her enough crap over it, so let's not pile on.”

  My ears are turning red. “It's not for lack of trying. I just haven't found the right man yet.”

  My stomach churns. Deep down, I can practically hear the steady tick-tick-tick of my biological clock, beating a hundred times faster than ever before the virus burns it out.

  “You look flushed, sis. What's wrong?” Katie narrows her eyes, studying me. “We're really not here to put you in front of a firing squad, you know. We're not mom.”

  I don't say anything. Thinking about our crazy mother jabbing me one more time about how I should already be married isn't helping.

  I look down, passing Chris back to her, reaching for the divine cup of chocolate at my side to take the edge off. Something stronger would be nice, but the sugar coma will do for now.

  “It's nothing. Just shaking off a cold I caught overseas. Sorry. Everything's been a little off since I got home.” Isn't that an understatement? I hold my hands up. “It's not contagious anymore, so don't worry. I had an appointment with the doctor the other day.”

  Will looks like a deer caught in headlights. I should have bitten my tongue a lot sooner, knowing what a germaphobe he can be. Katie gives him a stern look that says, don't start.

  She turns back to me, smiling sweetly. “I'm glad you're feeling better. A few sniffles are a small price to pay for adventure.”

  Next to her, Will still looks uneasy. Katie practically rolls her eyes as she turns toward him, reaching out to ruffle the tiny crop of hair on Chris' head. “Why don't you put him down, honey? I'll stay here and man the sick ward.”

  Will stands up, smiling nervously. “Kids, you know. It was great to see you again, Penny. We'll head out to dinner real soon.”

  My sister and I watch him shuffle down the hall, and then take the stairs up to the baby's room. She needles me in the side, almost making me choke on my cocoa. Germaphobe or not, the man she's married knows how to make good chocolate.

  “The things I put up with.” She smiles sadly. “Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade my family for anything. I just wish he wasn't so timid sometimes...”

  “He has a stressful career,” I tell her, trying to be reassuring. “He's in the thick of it now, isn't he? Grading papers?”

  My sister nods. Will works at one of the local colleges teaching math, making up in brains whatever he's lacking in courage. He's a good guy, even if he's a bit of a dork. I don't see the appeal, but then, it's not like I've ever had a serious relationship. I've never shared anyone's bed, waiting for perfection. My mistakes hit me hard, forming a new bitter lump in my throat.

  Why did I have to put that part of my life on hold? Too long, in fact, because the odds of ever catching up to my older sister are dimming by the minute.

  “Now that he's out of earshot, how's dating? I mean, really? You said you were looking for someone last time we met? Chatting with a few guys online?”

  Ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

  If only she knew the only person I've been texting is the spoiled ex of a love interest who will never reciprocate. I'm ignorant about dating, but I'm not stupid. I know Cinderella is just a fairy tale, and I'll be the luckiest woman in the world just to have a one night stand with Mr. Shaw.

  “Wait, what? Why are you smiling?” Katie grabs me by the shoulder. “You've been acting weird all afternoon. Better dish now, before the babysitter gets here for dinner.”

  “There's someone I'm interested in. I really don't know if it's going anywhere, but I'm going to meet him later this week. We'll see.” She looks gobsmacked. Honestly, so do I, unable to believe the lies coming out of my mouth. “You know I don't like to jinx things. Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Sis, I'm happy for you! I really, really am.” Katie lights up, scooping my hand up in hers. “I didn't want to say this, but for awhile, I was starting to worry you just weren't a social person.”

  “Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.

  She's definitely inherited mom's judgmental tone. Now, I don't feel so bad about lying on the fly.

  “I'm not trying to be mean. I just...well, the whole family thought maybe you'd turn into one of those crazy cat ladies. You know, still on your own into your thirties, no kids, clinging to your arts and crafts, scribbling day dreams in your diary. I had faith – I always did!”

  How fucking reassuring. I pull my hand away, doing my best to keep a fake smile plastered on my face. “Well, it's a little early to celebrate.”

  Celebrate? God, I'm being gracious. I should stand up and walk out the door, flipping her the middle finger on my way.

  Hayden's phone chooses to buzz away in my purse again that very second. I shove it deeper behind me into the cushions, trying my best not to look angry.

  I'm not giving my sister's secret bitchy side the satisfaction of knowing she's gotten to me. Hell, she's probably jealous, thinking about my non-existent date. She's telling the truth about being happy in her married life, but she's also bored out of her skull, wondering if she could have done better.

  “Wow, Will wasn't wrong. That's him, right?” She parrots her husband, careful to keep her voice down in case he's coming downstairs. She never gives him the s
atisfaction when he's right. “No, don't say anything. It's none of my business. Here, I'll take our cups, and give you a few minutes alone. I'd better check to make sure he doesn't need any help up there, anyway.”

  I'm not sure whether to be relieved or mortified at her skipping away. One thing's for sure – I'm not sorry I lied.

  There's a bitter, angry current welling up inside me. I don't want her sympathy, treating me like the ugly kid who might finally have a prom date.

  I'm sitting here, staring at the perfect coat of paint Katie splashed over her worn, neurotic life. Okay, so the perfect house with the perfect husband and the perfect baby boy is mostly an illusion. Mostly, I say, because Chris is going to grow up better than both his folks, and I'm sure about it.

  But she still has more than I ever will, thanks to Zeno, and it isn't fair.

  For twenty-three years, I've played it safe. Willed myself to hold on, evaluate every man who ever showed any interest with a microscope, and then paid for it big time when I finally stepped outside my normal routine and took a trip outside the States.

  Where the hell has it gotten me? I'm still wondering when I look behind me, careful to make sure Katie and Will are really gone. Then I pull his phone from my purse, staring at the battery warning in the corner. There's just enough juice left to see what's going on, maybe type a quick response.

  That's one reason the notification buzzed the phone. The other is the text waiting on the screen, and it causes muscles I didn't know I had to coil, burn, and want.

  Actually Hayden: You have something that belongs to me.

  Not Really Hayden: Yeah, you do, too. How do you want to trade?

  Waiting is agony. Thankfully, it's just a few seconds before I see the dots at the edge of the screen moving, and then it dings again.

  Hayden: Preferably somewhere private. Naked. You on your knees, handing it off to me so I can replace it with ten inches of steel you'll never forget.