The Billionaire’s Sudden Christmas Baby (Christmas With the Denton Billionaires Book 2)

by Leslie North

  Jules covered her face with her hands, and Mitch swooped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She cried into his chest, clinging to him as pulled her into a tight hug. It felt so right—so undeniably right—to be in his arms.

  “Will you take a chance on me?” he murmured into her ear. She squeezed her arms tighter around him, feeling the decision reverberate through her. She nodded, unable to speak or potentially ever leave his embrace.

  Because there was one place she wanted to be, and it was right there.

  In his arms. Bathed in his scent. Right alongside him on this crazy journey they’d started together.

  When she finally found her voice, she tipped her head back to look at him, tears shining in her eyes.

  “I needed you to be an asshole,” she said quietly, “because that’s what my mom taught me all rich men are.”

  Mitch snorted.

  “But you’re not. An asshole wouldn’t climb a fire escape at midnight to profess his love. An asshole wouldn’t choose his new family over partying all night at the best gala of the entire year.”

  “I don’t even want to be there if I’m not at your side,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips against hers for a kiss.

  Happiness and certainty swirled through her, making her dizzy. But Mitch grounded her—his embrace and his solid heat kept her from floating off into space. Because that’s what partners were for. They were the complements you didn’t know you were even looking for.

  “Just look at us,” Mitch murmured. “We started perfect strangers, and now we’re a perfect family.”

  She dissolved into laughter, more tears escaping. Because it was true.

  It was so, so true, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  “Jules! Come here!”

  Mitch’s voice boomed through the penthouse. She looked up from where she’d been playing with Noelle on the carpet of the living room. Their little squirmy eight-month old was more inquisitive and exploratory than ever, which meant Jules couldn’t turn her back on her for a second. She scooped her up and followed the sound of his voice toward the balcony.

  Her brows shot up as she stepped onto the expansive balcony. A dinner table had been set up out here, complete with a highchair for Noelle. The table was set for two, with a covered dish in the center.

  “What’s all this?” Jules asked.

  “Just my secret service elevator missions while you were occupied in the living room,” Mitch said, a knowing grin on his lips. He took Noelle from her arms to get her settled into the highchair, and Jules looked out over the city. Her breath caught as it often did, beholding the incredible sight. She’d never tire of this city or this view.

  Or this family.

  “That’s my little love nugget,” Mitch cooed as he strapped Noelle into the seat. “Daddy cooked something very special for you.”

  “He did?” Jules asked, easing into her chair. She’d been entirely unaware of this happening, but she blamed that partially on being a little tired from Noelle’s recent nighttime teething pain, and just generally getting lost in playing with the child-size xylophone their daughter loved.

  “Oh, yes. But he did it secretly, in the kitchen downstairs, so as to not alert the family.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Noelle’s head, and then turned his attention to the table. “Behold!” He uncovered the plate in the middle of the table, revealing an array of cooked vegetables—asparagus, potatoes, purple carrots and more—alongside what looked like sirloin steak.

  “This looks amazing,” Jules said, gaze darting between the food and Mitch’s apron. “Though I’m not sure what looks better. The food, or you in that apron.”

  “I understand if you choose the food. After all, I’m still wearing clothes.”

  Jules snickered, unfolding her napkin. Mitch settled into his seat, reaching over to Noelle to tweak her button nose. The girl giggled, slapping her hands against the highchair table.

  “I got some news today,” Jules said once they’d both filled their plates with food. “I’m getting a promotion at work.”

  Mitch paused, his eyes going wide. “That’s amazing, honey.”

  Jules grinned as she cut up her steak into very tiny pieces for Noelle to try. “It is. But I’m not going to take it.”

  His brow furrowed. “You aren’t?”

  “No. Because I want to start my own business.”

  A coy grin crept across his face. “Do you now?”

  “Yep. Learned some good business tricks from this guy I know, so it might be time to take a stab at the ol’ entrepreneur thing.”

  “I’m proud of you, Jules. Either way. You have my full support.”

  “I know.” She transferred the tiny bits of steak to Noelle’s tray, grinning over at Mitch. “And I love you for that.”

  “I have some news for you,” Mitch said as he chewed. He leaned back in his chair, looking over at Noelle. The evening sun had just sunk low enough so that the entire balcony was bathed in red-tinted light. “The adoption is moving along. It’s just short of one hundred percent official.”

  Jules’s heart leapt into her throat. Extensive review of the security camera footage from that early December day last year revealed enough information about the lady who left the baby that they were able to track her down—and begin a formal adoption process. The biological mother had agreed to terminate all parental rights, so Jules and Mitch could be sure that nobody would be showing up someday down the road to try to take Noelle.

  “That’s amazing,” Jules said, but her voice betrayed the worry she felt down to her bones.

  “But…?” Mitch prompted. After so little time as a couple, he knew her so well it seemed like they’d been together for fifty years.

  “But…” She sighed, shaking her head. “What if they decide that we’re not fit to adopt her?”

  “Honey, we are the fittest people to adopt this little bundle of energy.”

  “Right, but you never know what could go wrong.” She wouldn’t rest until the entire process was over with. The constant waiting was driving her nuts. “I don’t trust bureaucracy.”

  Mitch nodded, his jaw flexing as he studied something in his lap. “I know what you mean. And I’ve been thinking…” He fiddled with something in his lap, and then looked up at her, his icy blue eyes filled with mischief and something more. “I know what will seal the deal.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Mitch stood and came around the table. When he towered over her, smiling mysteriously, Jules knew that her racing heart was a sign. She just wasn’t sure of what.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  Mitch dropped to one knee, fishing something out of his pocket. He presented her with a ring—a diamond engagement ring.

  “Now do you?” he asked, the smile spreading ear to ear.

  Jules gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Are you serious right now?”

  “Jules Cardwell. Event planner extraordinaire. Top-notch mother. The only lover I ever want in my bed again. The perfect partner I never knew I needed.” He paused, wetting his bottom lip. “Will you be my wife?”

  A sob wracked her body. Holding back the tears was hopeless. A few trickled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Yes! Of course! Oh my god, why wouldn’t I?”

  Mitch laughed, pulling her into a hug. She clung to him, her tears dampening the shoulder of his shirt, knowing down to her bones that this was the only man for her.

  This was the only family for her.

  In the background, little Noelle clapped her hands and gurgled happily.

  Their perfect family was about to get just a little bit better.

  End of The Billionaire’s Sudden Christmas Baby

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Fiancée, December 5 2019

  The Billionaire’s Sudden Christmas Baby, December 12 2019

  The Billionaire’s Second Chance Christmas, December 19 2019

 
PS: Do you love being swept off your feet? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from The Billionaire’s Second Chance Christmas and A Sheikh for Christmas.

  Thank You!

  Thank you so much for purchasing my book. It’s hard for me to put into words how much I appreciate my readers. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to leave a review. Reviews are crucial for an author’s success and I would greatly appreciate it if you took the time to review the book. I love hearing from you!

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  About Leslie

  Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.

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  BLURB

  Billionaire celebrity chef Christopher Denton is back in his hometown, hoping to win a local baking contest and gain some much-needed publicity before launching his new show. The only possible glitch in the plan is knowing Mara Lancaster, the girl who broke his heart back in high school, is his competition. Though his pulse is racing in that old familiar way, he plays it cool, not wanting Mara to know how much seeing her has affected him. Maybe if he acts like he doesn’t care, his traitorous heart will listen. But as the competition heats up, so do his thoughts about her. Mara’s even more gorgeous now and he’s finding it difficult to keep his eyes—and his hands—off her.

  Mara has to win the Christmas gingerbread house competition. This isn’t a game to her: it’s her entire future, because she needs the prize money to start her own bakery. Nothing will get in the way of that dream. Certainly not an egotistical, bad boy billionaire chef, even if he makes her blood sizzle and her mind turn to cookie batter—just like he did when they were teenagers. She can’t deny their attraction, though, and the more time they spend together, the more Mara sees the boy she loved before accidentally breaking his heart. And she likes what she sees. Chris is kind and really a bit of a softy, despite his hard exterior.

  But just when Mara thinks things between her and Chris might end sweetly, her ex shows up on the scene and leaves Mara wondering if it will all crumble—just like a gingerbread house…

  Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Second Chance Christmas

  Available December 19, 2019

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Flashes popped and burst as Chris Denton’s limo slowed to a stop in front of the Glenford Community Center. The press was here, because they were always here. Not at this exact place, per se, but wherever Chris was.

  As a celebrity chef, it was hard to sneeze these days without the press catching wind.

  And honestly? On days like today, he didn’t mind it one bit. His smile grew wider the closer the photographers swarmed.

  Eat it up, guys. Your hometown hero is back.

  Once the limo stopped, he pushed the door open and stepped into the fray. This was his hometown, the small city of Glenford, New York. Although he’d grown up here, it was no longer home—that title was reserved for New York City. But still, he knew this place like the back of his hand.

  Even though reporters and photographers hadn’t clambered over each other to snap his picture like they did now.

  “Chris! Chris!” Shouts pierced the air, and the bodyguard hired by the network carved a path for him through the people. “How are you feeling about the competition? Are you worried that your show’s ratings might fall if you don’t win?”

  He just smiled tightly as the questions rained around him. Not winning wasn’t an option, hometown niceties be damned. The Glenford annual gingerbread baking competition was locally famous, but this year, it would become internationally famous. All because of Chris.

  Which meant the pressure was on.

  “Chris!” A familiar voice broke through the din as he strode through the double doors of the community center. The late November air was crisp and cold, but inside the heat made him eager to shrug off his expensive overcoat. In New York, he fit in with all the other rich celebrities. But here, back in his hometown? He already stood out like a sore thumb.

  Chris’s assistant, Damon, wove toward him through the crowd. The only familiar face from New York City that he’d be seeing over the next few weeks of filming this competition reality show.

  “There you are. We need to get you into the staging area. Everyone’s ready to get this show on the road.”

  Damon led him through the humming front hallway and toward the auditorium where the meet-and-greet would happen in advance of filming. Tucked into the back of the center was a multipurpose room where they’d be doing the bulk of the filming. Chris kept himself alert and smiling as he followed Damon into the auditorium. Who knew who he might see here, who he might need to be “on” for?

  There was one person he already knew he’d be running into, and his entire body prickled with anticipation over it. Coming home to Glenford was one thing. But coming back here to face off against his first love—and first heartbreak—Mara Lancaster? It added an annoying dimension to the next few weeks of his life.

  But it wasn’t like he could say no to this opportunity. The network wanted him to blow the competition out of the water as part of their efforts to expand his demographic and take his success to new levels. And Chris wanted to please the network, come Hell or high water, because he had plans of his own for his career, and they involved the network saying yes to whatever he came up with.

  People filled the first couple rows of seats, and Chris hadn’t taken three steps before he saw her.

  Mara lingered near the stage, leaning against the small stair railing as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Back in the day, he used to joke and called her Ginger Sinner—a nod to her fair complexion and strawberry blonde tresses and her total disregard for any propriety when it came to making out behind the bleachers during football games.

  But now? She was pure Ginger Stunner. Taller, somehow, and more elegant, as though the ten years since high school graduation had only served to refine her into a sharper, more breathtaking version of herself. Chris gritted his teeth as Damon led him closer to her.

  Why did she have to be the one to win the Glenford baking contest? He’d asked himself this question a thousand times. The television network thought that the premise was infallible—hijack the local annual baking contest for Glenford residents so that they could find the best of the best to square off against Chris. It had the right amount of small-town charm, boosted by the Christmas spirit and everyone’s favorite vice these days—baking shows. It was a homerun, and they hadn’t even started filming.

  But Chris would have paid money for the other contestant to be literally anyone other than Mara. The past was past, but he suspected that being around her again was going to be something of a challenge.

  Mara straightened as he approached, her mossy green eyes whipping his way. Electricity shivered through him, and he could feel the frown settling onto his face.

  Even though the past was way past, part of him still hadn’t forgotten how she’d broken his heart senior year. And sure, they were damn near thirty years old now, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t racing just from the sight of her.

  All those unspoken words and unresolved sentiments from eons ago were suddenly busting down the door, begging for their chance in the limelight.

  Chris realized he’d been staring at her, while she stared right back. Her gaze was a tractor beam he was hesitant to rip himself out of, but dammit, he needed to focus. Damon gestured toward an open seat in the front row, and Chris made a big display of taking off his coat and folding it over the back of the auditorium seat. Anything to kill time and not focus on Mara.

  “Let’s get st
arted, everyone.” The director of the show called the event to order and began his introductory spiel. Chris was aware of Mara slinking toward a different seat further down his row, but he forced himself not to watch her walk away. Every inch of him was curious if she still smelled perpetually of strawberry lip gloss. Surely, at almost thirty, she didn’t hold the same habits as her eighteen-year-old self.

  Or did she?

  Chris’s nostrils flared as he shoved the thought from his mind.

  “And that brings us to our competitors! Mara Lancaster, local baker extraordinaire!” Polite applause filled the auditorium as the director introduced her. Chris made a point not to clap, or even look at her.

  But when the attention turned his way and the director began the introduction about his famous show, Chris Cooks, and all the recent accolades and touring and the third cookbook he was set to release, it was hard not to glance at her.

  To see if she gave a damn. If she was impressed. If she even remembered who he was.

  Mara’s moss green gaze sizzled on him, and for a moment, Chris forgot where he was. What he was doing. What this was all about.

  He swallowed a knot in his throat, jerking his gaze off her once the applause around him died down.

  This baking competition was a piece of cake—literally.

  The real challenge was going to be having Mara within arm’s reach again, twenty-four seven, for the next couple of weeks.