by Leslie North
Billionaires & Babies
The Billionaire’s Accidental Baby
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Matchmaking the Billionaire
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Pregnant by the Billionaire
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, MARCH 2019
Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.
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All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Connie Bonner has spent her life working hard and following her passion, never too worried about how things will work out or where her life is headed. But after one unforgettable, passionate night with Brian O’Leary, her gorgeous former boss, her life has ground to a halt. Now, she’s pregnant. Facing the biggest responsibility of her life. Worse, Brian’s new girlfriend and soon-to-be fiancée is demanding Brian not be named the father and that Connie sign a non-disclosure agreement. But when Brian begins to help Connie prepare for the baby, she finds herself dreaming about not just their child but a family with the billionaire as well.
Brian is convinced that Connie’s pregnancy is just a small hiccup on his way to the perfect life he’s dreamed of since he was a poor kid on the wrong side of the tracks. He’s already amassed fortune, and has found the perfect, practical fiancée who comes with a major tech deal, putting his goal almost in reach. He has no room in his life for the always-cheerful Connie, but he finds himself more and more drawn to her despite his looming goal. She’s the opposite of everything he needs in life. But if that’s true, why is it so hard to resist her?
As the pregnancy progresses, Connie wants Brian to see that there’s more to life than making money, and that they’re meant to be a family. But with everything working against them and a baby on the way, time is running out for them to find their happily ever after.
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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
Epilogue
End of The Billionaire’s Accidental Baby
Thank you!
About Leslie
Sneak Peek: Matchmaking the Billionaire
Also by Leslie
1
Brian O’Leary didn’t do patience very well.
Which is why the Saudi prince currently lollygagging around Brian’s San Diego headquarters made him clench his fists behind his back.
He was steps away from closing the deal. Steps that he could count on one hand. Hell, he could practically feel the signature already scratching over paper. The deal that he’d worked tirelessly to organize, to orchestrate, like the delicate masterpiece it was—the deal that would push him over the threshold of billionaire.
He’d been working his entire life for this moment.
And Prince Yariz was intent on inspecting every square inch of the office, as if he might find a deal breaker by the water cooler.
“Sir, if I could accompany you back to my office, we can—” Brian began.
“What about the development offices?” The prince arched an eyebrow. Brian understood that signing today’s contract meant five years of dealing with this guy and his software company. But sacrifices had to be made in the name of financial security and goal achievement. At this point, Brian would offer one of his own limbs to get this guy’s signature on the paperwork.
Brian had been crafting triumphant emails and celebratory phone calls in his head for weeks now. He could already imagine the pride in his mother’s voice when he called her up in South Bay to tell her about the deal. She hadn’t been struggling for a good number of years—not since Brian made his first million, at least—so it wasn’t so much about taking care of her. She was proud of him, no matter what; at least that’s what she always told him and he almost always believed her. Getting Prince Yariz’ signature on the contract would be the icing on the cake and he’d achieve his goal of reaching billionaire status five years earlier than planned.
Growing up destitute and desperate, after his dad had skipped town leaving his mother, him and his younger siblings struggling for survival, his ten-year-old self promised his tearful mother that he would always take care of her and he had.
Brian straightened his back, trying not to let his irritation seep out and stain the whole deal. He gestured toward a nearby hallway, which led to the development area. The two walked down the neatly carpeted hall, decorated in beige and brown tones. Brian’s favorite. It was calming. Neutral. Distantly woodsy. He pushed open the glass door at the end of the hallway. The open-plan work space of the development team greeted them, lined with wall-to-wall windows overlooking downtown San Diego.
At first glance, it was a pristine image of industriousness and productivity. A snapshot of the modern American workplace. Brian smiled. Yes, let Prince Yariz take it all in.
The distinctive sound of feminine laughter sent a ripple of interest through him. From across the room, Constance Bonner sat at her desk surrounded by several of the male developers as they watched something on her computer. The laughter from the other developers dried up as one by one, they noticed our arrival and quickly slunk back to their desks. All except for Connie who had yet to notice us. Realizing that she was now alone, she looked up, her thick, black ponytail swishing over her shoulder. Pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, she leapt up, tugging at her black button-down shirt and too short plaid skirt. He could just make out the print on her socks, which stuck out above her black boots. Unicorns? Of course, it would be unicorns.
Brian pressed his thumbs against his temples as Prince Yariz began moving toward her like a moth to a flame. Connie was one of the top developers at the company. She was gorgeous, too, not that it mattered. But she was chronically, relentlessly, friendly.
It was a nice trait for an employee to have.
Except for right now.
Connie’s eyes seemed to grow bigger as she saw us walking toward her. Audio from her computer caught her attention and she quickly tried to close out of whatever had everyone engaged prior to them coming in the room. Her mutterings of, “Oh, no, no, no” almost had him feeling sorry for her but he also knew that everyone had been apprised of today’s VIP visit.
“Ms. Bonner,” Brian began, but Connie was too busy unsuccessfully trying to close out of whatever she had running. Realizing it wasn’t going to happen, she quickly tu
rned off the monitor before fumbling for the audio on the speakers. In her rush, she ended up tipping over the speaker, which continued to torment her. With a loud sigh of defeat, Connie flashed one of those show-stopping smiles. Privately, he considered her a model who didn’t realize her potential. While his office didn’t adhere to a particular dress code, most of his employees chose to wear standard office attire while Connie’s wardrobe tended to fluctuate somewhere between gothic punk and computer nerd. At least she wasn’t wearing one of her more questionable graphic tees today. Brian said a silent thanks for small favors even as the noise from her speakers continued to draw attention.
“Brian. Hi. I, uh, wasn’t expecting the VIP to visit us.” Connie’s eyes darted back and forth between Brian and the prince, as she bit her lower lip. She seemed to be at a loss as to what to do with her hands and flailed them at her side before setting her hands on her desk and holding them there. Brian could sense Prince Yariz stiffening at his side.
“The Prince wanted to see all of our offices.”
“Oh, I see. Well, welcome.” Connie went to sit back down, not realizing that her office chair had moved. With a stumble and an almost fall, she awkwardly landed back in her chair, her skirt flying up, giving the both of them a clear view of her Captain Marvel underwear. Letting out a loud breath of air, Connie blew on her bangs before she straightened out her skirt again, in what Brian was realizing was a nervous gesture. “Okay, so I should get back to work.”
Reaching to right her speaker, Brian could now make out the audio, which sounded very much like a woman in the throes of an orgasm.
The prince’s complexion paled. Eyes mere slits, his gaze swept toward Brian.
“We need to go,” Brian said tersely, stepping toward the door. He gestured for the prince to follow him. “Prince Yariz, we can continue our tour now.”
Connie watched with wide eyes and a clamped-shut mouth as Brian ushered the prince out of the development office. The only sound as they walked down the hall was the muffled fall of their steps. Yet confusion rang shrill between Brian’s ears. Wondering how to cover this gaffe. How to play it off. How to send Connie an email that told her exactly how he felt without having her report him for excessive use of exclamation points.
“Is that how employees behave here?” Prince Yariz finally asked.
“No,” Brian rushed to say. “Not at all. It’s not—”
“What a rude, inconsiderate woman,” the prince went on.
“I agree,” he said. “Completely.”
“And you allow her to work here?”
Brian gritted his teeth. Connie was one of the best developers he’d hired. But she’d barely made it through the initial interviews without raising plenty of eyebrows in HR. Not because she was unqualified or inappropriate, but simply because she was too damn friendly. Almost nobody in the jaded tech bubble here could find it within their parched souls to actually enjoy interpersonal communication.
It was one of the reasons Brian had opted for the open floor plan in the developers’ area. To force a modicum of human interaction.
“She’s very good at what she does,” Brian began.
“That’s not worth your reputation,” the prince sniffed. The air between them tightened. Brian could sense the direction this was going, and his stomach pitched to his feet. “Your employees are like family. And your family must be honorable. Immaculate. Well controlled.”
Still, Brian thought he should continue as though he hadn’t just boarded a high-speed train heading for a brick wall. “Prince Yariz, your words are well-received and absolutely understood. Now, if you’ll follow me to the office, we can get the papers signed.”
The prince slowed, his face grave. Not an ounce of amusement anywhere. His words coming like slow motion daggers. “Mr. O’Leary, I’ve changed my mind.”
2
Connie had shredded approximately thirteen napkins since arriving at the bar. She kept her head down, focusing on the napkin as her penance.
Overexuberance getting in the way of the job.
Distracting, unproductive office relations.
Connie’s nostrils flared as the fateful words echoed through her head. When Human Resources had called her into the office just before she left for the day, she’d felt down to her bones that it wasn’t going to be good. Maybe it had been the look of sheer horror on Brian’s face when she couldn’t shut that damn video off and that same scene kept repeating over and over through her speakers. Or maybe this had just been a long time coming.
Like every other job she’d found and then lost. The problem was always her. She shredded another napkin, adding the sad strips to the pile she’d made on the bar counter. Then she reached for her margarita, took a healthy swig, and set the glass down.
Officially unemployed. Again. Never mind that it had to happen in front of the sexiest boss to walk the planet.
Connie rubbed at her forehead, willing the memories to evaporate already. She’d be haunted for life as it was by the humiliation of single-handedly sabotaging her former company’s biggest deal ever. It didn’t matter that it was accidental. Yes, as she’d told HR, she did get the company-wide email warning everyone that a VIP would be in the building, but she never intended for them to come walking into the Developers area right as she was playing a hilarious video that she suddenly couldn’t cancel out of. HR had told her that her choice of video was inappropriate but if they’d only seen it, they’d agree that it was funny. In a hilariously inappropriate way. She groaned, dropping her head. She’d screwed up. Huge
She drew a shaky breath. Human Resources had been terribly impassive while firing her. Or maybe there had been a secret glee behind that forty-something’s blank corporate gaze. It was hard to know anymore. It seemed like everything she did was wrong, or somehow unacceptable, or just outside the fringe of societally normal.
Connie gulped back the rest of the margarita. Story of my life.
She lifted a finger, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. It had been hard enough to get the first drink. Apparently she didn’t dress the part for this corporate-friendly bar. Pure suits and Botox in this place. Why had she come here? It was the nearest bar to her former place of employment, and she’d wanted a drink, now.
She wasn’t sure if she should hate or sympathize with Brian O’Leary. He’d been a fine enough boss—emphasis on the fine—with the expected amount of distant interest in her personhood and a general sense of “I’m a busy man, make this quick” when around his employees. He looked like Prince Harry, too. Except ten times buffer.
He’d been the one to expedite her removal. She couldn’t blame him. She could see the steam coming out his ears. This was all her fault and she’d own that, just as soon as she finished feeling sorry for herself..
But Prince Harry wasn’t supposed to fire her. He was supposed to secretly pine for her from his big, glass-walled office while reviewing her specifications.
The bartender looked her way, then over her shoulder. His face lit up in recognition. Connie slumped into her seat. More waiting for her. What would it take to get service around here? Flashing a summary of her 401(k) investments?
“O’Leary.” The bartender grinned, heading a few seats down the bar. Beyond the pair of graying executives speaking in hushed tones to her left, a very familiar redhead slid onto a bar stool. “You’re early today.”
Connie gaped as Brian let a ragged sigh. Eyes half-closed, he shook his head, as if saying, That’s enough. “Yeah. Which means I need a whiskey, neat.”
Connie clamped her mouth shut and stared ahead at the glittering shelves of top-shelf alcohol bottles. She was frozen, like a deer in headlights, wondering what her next move should be. The man who’d ended her career at O Developments sat three seats down from her. And surely she was the cause of him needing that whiskey neat.
She took measured breaths as the bartender and Brian went through a basic routine of questions and answers: happy hour wasn’t so happy this time, stress
ful day at work, whiskey to take the edge off. When the bartender finally handed over the tumbler of alcohol, his gaze swept toward Connie.
“Another one?” he asked, his tone significantly less friendly than how he’d greeted Brian.
Her mouth parted. She needed to ask for the check, but speaking might draw attention to herself. And right now, she just needed to shrivel. All she could do was nod.
The bartender got to work mixing her another margarita while Connie fretted. She gripped her handbag in one granite fist, thighs tensed. Maybe she could run out before the bartender turned back around. She didn’t have enough cash on her to leave it on the bar, maybe they’d let her pay up front or next door or mail them a check from out of state. Anything to avoid the impossibly sexy but newly off-putting former boss of hers spotting her.
She started to slide off the stool. It creaked. She didn’t take her eyes off the fascinating shelves of liquor, her heart pounding and reinforcing the goal with every beat: Get. Out. Of. Here. As if not looking at him would help him not notice her. The pair of executives to her left downed their drinks and stood, adjusting suit jackets. Now nobody blocked her from Brian’s view.
Over the low din of conversation, Brian groaned. “Oh, Christ.”