The British Billionaire's Baby Read online

  What the hell was he supposed to do now?

  **

  Today was quite possibly the worst day of her life.

  Despite her queasiness, Gabby broke into a sprint the moment she left the Doctor’s office and made it about three blocks before lack of air got to her and she halted, leaning against the brick wall of a firehouse to catch her breath.

  Around her, the city carried on its harried pace as if nothing had changed, but everything had.

  She was going to have a baby. She, perhaps the one woman in Manhattan least suited to raise another human being, had been knocked up.

  By a fucking British Earl.

  She should have known. The man was too poised. Too rich! He was a beast in bed, but hell, for all she knew that could be a thing among modern day British nobility. He’d lied to her.

  Well, lie was a strong word. She’d known the man for all of twelve hours.

  And now she was going to have his baby.

  “Fuck,” she whispered desperately, her eyes sliding closed as she braced herself against another wave of nausea. She was closer to crying in that moment than she had been when they’d discovered her mother’s cancer. “Fuck.”

  “Gabby.” She flinched at the sound of Tristan’s voice. As much as she loved the man, right now, she wanted to be back at her apartment, alone, curled up in her bed. “Darling, wait.” Of course, he was much more in shape than she was. The run had hardly winded him. At his gentle hand on her shoulder, Gabby shuddered, blinking back tears. “It will be alright, darling. This doesn’t change anything. We’ll figure things out.”

  She turned to face him, her gigantic pregnancy how-to bag thudding to the pavement. “There is nothing about this that is alright! I’m completely unprepared for this.” She clutched her still deceptively flat stomach, “I can barely take care of myself, Tristan.”

  “Honey, slow down. There are a lot of options. The Doctor caught things fairly early on. Maybe we could go visit a…clinic together. Just to see what kind of information they could provide.”

  He didn’t have to go into specifics. Gabby automatically knew exactly what kind of clinic he was referring to and she herself was surprised by the vehement protest that rose to her lips. “No.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s my baby. I did this. I’m not going to any clinic.”

  Tristan returned the sentiment with a thin smile. “Well, you hardly did it alone.”

  Groaning, Gabby blew out a breath. Fucking Sebastian Hunter. He seemed hardly thrilled to hear the news himself. She was stunned because utterly misjudged the man. Not that she’d expected him to be perfect, but the way he’d reacted? Christ, the memory was enough to incite a kind of queasiness that she knew had nothing to do with morning sickness.

  “It doesn’t matter. He knows now and that’s honestly all I owe him. I can work the rest out on my own.” Did she have any other choice? In the space of one doctor’s appointment, her life had been changed irrevocably.

  “That’s my girl.” Tristan chucked her chin affectionately before exhaling slowly. “Phillip is going to flip.” Honestly, Gabby doubted that Phillip was going to do much more than accept what Tristan told him. It was the way he usually handled things, and at this point, it would make her life a hell of a lot easier.

  “Gabrielle!”

  She stiffened at the accented tones of the absolute last person she wanted to see at that moment. Gabby had been positive when she’d left the Ritz Carlton that it would be the last time she’d ever see the man. She’d felt the exact same way when she’d run out of the doctor’s office, her heart pounding with distress and confusion.

  He’d proved her wrong both times.

  Taking a deep breath, Gabby steeled herself. She hadn’t made it this far in life by running from her problems. When Tristan touched her arm in concern, she shrugged him off gently, turning to face the tall, breathtakingly masculine figure striding towards her. In the doctor’s office, she had lost her cool. While she might not be British nobility, it was time for her to show Sebastian that she could act with just as much poise as he could.

  “Sebastian.” It was no small matter to keep her voice neutral. Being confronted with the man only made her remember how good he was capable of making her feel.

  “Gabrielle, let me apologize.” He looked absolutely delicious, clad in a crisp navy suit that set off the color of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply anything…untoward.” Surprisingly, the sheepish expression on his face had her believing him.

  “Forget it.” She waved him off, trying to still the rising butterflies in her stomach. “It’s over. What’s done is done and you’ve got business to attend to, I’m sure.”

  His eyes widened slightly. “Just like that? What about…the child?”

  “I’m working on it. You don’t need to worry. I won’t be sending a request for child-support payments to the royal manor.” He winced at the sheer snark in her voice and she couldn’t say she was sorry to see it. Turning on her heel, she raised her hand to hail a cab, only to have the infuriating man catch it halfway.

  Gabby immediately jolted at the heat that shot through her at his touch. “Gabby, wait. I want to talk.”

  She eyed him in surprise. “What’s there to talk about?”

  Sebastian seemed to struggle for words for a moment before inhaling slowly. “Look, Gabrielle,” He ran his free hand through his raven locks, mussing them ever so slightly. “I know this may sound strange, but hear me out, please.”

  They were in the middle of a crowded New York sidewalk and he had a firm hold of her. She supposed if she wanted to make a scene, she could call on Tristan, but her interest was piqued by what he might say. When she made no move to rebuff him, he went on slowly. “I…I happen to be a member of a quite prestigious family in Britain, and I currently find myself in a position that we could both possibly benefit from.”

  Gabby blinked, slowly. “Go on.”

  “I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. From my family, the media and the political body itself to…to marry and produce an heir. I’m close to forty and there’s no insurance for the legacy of my family. I’m the only son.”

  She still hadn’t the faintest what this had to do with her. “If we could come to some sort of…arrangement where you could return with me to London and we could pretend to be wed”, Gabby’s eyes flew wide, “only until the birth of the baby, at which point I could devise some sort of reason for our split. You could return to New York, I would have my heir, and we could divide custody of the child.”

  He had absolutely lost his mind and Gabby opened her mouth to tell him so, only to have him cut her off. “You’d have the most luxurious comforts that money could buy. And the child’s development would be overseen by all the best doctors. His…or her health would be ensured.” Her protests died on her lips.

  She didn’t think Sebastian any less insane for suggesting such an outlandish scheme, but the mention of her baby’s health…it reminded her of her current state. If she was going to be any kind of proper mother at all, she was going to start putting her child’s needs before her own. While she might want to tell the man to screw off and work things on her own, this would be a chance to procure healthcare for her baby that she’d never be able to afford otherwise.

  Tristan would want to help, of course, but she never liked to take anything from him unless she absolutely had to. This way was more viable. As much as she might like to forget, Sebastian was the child’s father. She really had no right to deny her child its father, if he actually wanted to be involved in its life.

  Now, the idea of the baby holding some kind of title…being shuffled into the world of British nobility, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but Gabby supposed that if she did agree to this foolishness, she had a good nine months to make sure her opinion was heard.

  She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this.

  Leaving New York – her life and her work. She’d barely even set foot outside the state before! Sh
e’d have to find some way to take her canvases and her paintings with her – she’d need some kind of studio –her own space to think and breathe…

  “Two conditions.” She spoke before she could change her mind, reminding herself that she didn’t give a shit who Sebastian was or how much money he had. This was about the baby.

  The earl’s relief was palpable, his shoulders sagging as the tense muscles in his face relaxed.

  “Name them.”

  “Number one: I get a space to continue with my painting. It can be a closet for all I care, just as long as I get it.”

  “Of course.” Sebastian seemed astounded by the simplicity of her request. “Consider it done.”

  “Number two," Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “Separate bedrooms.”

  Sebastian choked. “Pardon?”

  “You heard me.” She pressed. “Separate bedrooms. I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you again. Once was quite enough.” Indeed, once was enough to fuck her over entirely, no pun intended.

  “Impossible.” It took the man less than two seconds to find his voice, and the firmness in his tone irked her somewhat.

  “What do you mean ‘impossible’?”

  “If we’re supposed to be married, we’ll be occupying the same house, the same room, and the same bed. Anything less would give us away. Questions would be raised and the child’s legitimacy would be in question.”

  Meaning no healthcare. She got the picture loud and clear. Frowning deeply, Gabby glared at him for a good minute, fuming. It seemed there was no way to acquire what was best for the baby other than to go along with Sebastian – the man she was beginning to see as an obstacle to be overcome.

  “Fine.” She snapped. “Same bed. But if you try and touch me, you’ll lose your fingers.”

  Sebastian held up his hands defensively. “Understood. I’ll stay on my side if you’ll stay on yours.”

  Gabby gaped in outrage. Was he implying that she would…in his dreams! “Let’s get one thing straight here, my Lord,” She sniped, raising a hand to poke his rock-like chest. “I’m doing this for the baby. That’s it. Nine months and I’m gone. Is that clear?”

  “We have an accord.” Holding out his hand, Sebastian fixed her with what she supposed was his most serious expression. It was too bad all she could recall was the way his elegant face contorted in pleasure as she rode him to completion. Swallowing her trepidation, Gabby reached out to shake his hand and seal the deal.

  She only hoped that she wouldn’t live to regret it.

  CHAPTER 5 - Facade

  Three weeks later

  “And this is the kitchen.”

  Sebastian didn’t know which was more amusing – watching Gabrielle’s eyes grow wider and wider with every additional room that was revealed to her or watching the staff whisper about her as they passed. So far, the story he’d concocted about her being a wealthy daughter to an oil baron hadn’t been questioned.

  This was, of course, because the young woman had showed remarkable restraint when it came to speaking with members of his household and the media that had mobbed her the moment she’d stepped from the plane. Thankfully, the public had taken this to mean she was demure and shy. Sebastian knew it to be because the poor woman was so overwhelmed by her surroundings that she couldn’t react on the spot.

  In three weeks, she’d packed everything she had, gotten on a plane and crossed the Atlantic Ocean to re-settle in the heart of London. He’d picked his London home because he’d deemed it far enough removed from his parents in Raithwithe that they couldn’t cause much trouble and because they might as well face the most hectic and rabid public before them and rip the Band-Aid off the wound.

  Gabby seemed to be handling the entire situation in a state of dazed acceptance. Luckily, Tristan and his husband had been only too happy to pick up his designing practice and follow her across the pond. The man asserted that he’d been looking for a reason to expand internationally, and so far as their presence helped Gabrielle get through the next nine months, he could see no problem with their presence. Of course, he’d sworn them to secrecy, installing them in one of his smaller London properties rather than have them beyond his reach.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gabby or her friends, but what they were attempting was very delicate. If even the slightest hint of her real identity leaked, or the smallest rung of some back alley tabloid discovered that they weren’t really married, the entire thing would fall apart. Nine months, that was all they had to endure.

  And it truly was endurance.

  Sebastian was rapidly finding that the things that had first drawn him to Gabrielle were also the attributes that made her hard to live with. She was stubborn, headstrong, and fiercely independent, insisting on doing everything for herself. When he’d suggested that she buy herself clothes that might be more suitable for a countess, she’d marched herself down to the nearest thrift store to be the most uptight, stuffy and stale smelling garments she’d ever encountered. He supposed, in a way, they did make her look like a countess – if that countess was fifty years old and owned twelve small dogs.

  He would have to procure some better clothing for her, but he was fighting his battles one at a time. The clothes were only the beginning. Gabrielle absolutely refused to let him help her with any of the physical aspects of her pregnancy. While she was now taking medicine for morning sickness, she still woke on a few mornings out of the week rushing for the toilet.

  She remained stolidly in bed on days where cramps consumed her with discomfort and refused his offers of backrubs or hot pads. While Sebastian knew she was furious with him for being dishonest with her – and even more so how he’d reacted to the news of her pregnancy, he didn’t see why they couldn’t be civil with one another. They were going to be in close contact for the better part of a year, and they had to pretend to be desperately in love.

  Easier said than done.

  “This way.” Gabby was still gaping at the expansive manor kitchen when he gently nudged her towards a recessed staircase that led to the back part of the house – a portion still in renovation. However, there was one large room that he thought would suit her very nicely. When he opened the door to the gigantic, wood-floored room stocked with sheets of canvases and buckets of paint, Gabrielle emitted an audible gasp. “And I thought this would serve well as the studio you requested. I’ve already had some things brought in for you. What do you think?”

  For a moment, Gabrielle only gaped. Despite the ridiculous ancient gray sheathe she wore, the excitement gleaming in her eyes made him want her desperately – much more desperately than he should considering that she wanted nothing more to do with him physically.

  “It’s…it’s…” He thought he might be on the cusp of a breakthrough for a moment before Gabby caught him looking at her and quickly masked her delight. “I suppose it’ll have to do.” Sebastian repressed a groan as she crossed the length of the room to take in the paints he’d selected. There were a wide variety stacked on a table, as well as brushes of varying size. He’d tried to provide her with a wide array of choices, glancing at the pieces he’d bought from her for reference.

  The moment the tentative deal between them had been struck, he’d sent all of the paintings to Raithwithe. While they might be sharing the same living space, there were a few secrets he still wanted to keep – and exactly how much the young woman’s paintings moved him was one of them. Sometimes it was hard for him to reconcile that the passionate woman who’d so entranced him upon their first meeting was the same infuriating female that faced him now.

  “I’m so glad you approve.” His answer was dry as he turned to leave her there. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be in my study if you need me.”

  “Sebastian!” He jolted in surprise at the desperation in her voice, immediately cresting the stairs once more to search the room wildly in worry. Gabrielle stood there much the same as he’d left her, one hand resting unconsciously on her still very flat stomach. Upon th
at hand winked the substantial diamond that served as their “engagement” ring as well as a platinum wedding band. Though he knew their relationship itself was a farce, he couldn’t help but think the rings suited her. They were simple and unruffled, much like the woman herself.

  “What is it?”

  “I…” She seemed on the cusp of saying something prolific before the light in her eyes died and she wrapped her arms around herself in a reflexive gesture of isolation. “I just wanted to ask when we’ll meet the doctor for the baby’s first appointment.”

  He managed a thin smile. If one thing was certain, it was that the baby’s health never left Gabrielle’s mind – not for a moment. It was clearly the only reason she was playing along with him, and so making sure everything in that arena was in order was high on his list of priorities. “Friday morning, eight am. I hope your jetlag will have worn off by then.”

  With that, he descended the staircase, leaving her alone in her makeshift studio. As he did so, Sebastian exhaled a sigh of frustration. Nine more months of this...and then he’d have to see to the breeding and pedigree of a child that would be groomed for the position it would occupy in society. He didn’t think it had quite hit him that he was actually going to be a father yet. Yes, he knew that Gabby was pregnant, but he was still having trouble coming to terms with the duties he would have to fulfill.

  His own childhood had been somewhat dull, ruled by protocol and social functions that had led to tears of boredom. He’d taken lessons in piano, archery and etiquette, despite disliking all three, and been forced to mingle with painfully self-centered children that dropped their family names at the slightest opportunity. The idea of raising a child like that made him shudder.

  He made his way through the kitchen and parlor, back to the east wing of the house and his comfortable study. It was the only room in the house he wouldn’t let the maid touch. He liked his office in a bit of tidy disarray. It was easier to find things that way. Now, he booted up his computer to check on some of his choicer investments, hoping to banish any impending thought of fatherhood.