The Billionaire From Chicago_A BWWM Billionaire Romance

by Simply BWWM

  “Probably one of the last times I really get to drink, if we want to be serious about this,” she said wryly.

  “Well, I think you can probably at least keep drinking until you’re ovulating,” Luke pointed out. “Maybe treat it like Mardi Gras and have one last, big night of getting just absolutely sloshed before you have to abstain.”

  “I might, at that,” Elizabeth said, as if the idea amused her. “Though I hope I have the presence of mind to stop short of actually getting sick.”

  “As long as you’re in top shape when we start trying to make this baby, I have nothing to say about what you do beforehand,” Luke told her. They both sipped their sparkling wine, and Elizabeth bent back over the paperwork to fill out her banking details.

  Luke decided to turn the TV on to have some background noise going while they went through the paperwork. The fact that they had managed to transition into kind of a more professional setting, a more business-oriented activity, had thrown metaphorical cold water over him, which was--he thought--a blessing. He picked a series at random from his Netflix queue and started it up.

  “Let me know if you have any questions,” he told Elizabeth. She nodded, still filling out the details for the bank transfers, consulting her phone every few moments.

  “I think that’s about it,” she said. She looked over it one more time and then nodded to herself, confirming it.

  “Sounds good then,” Luke said. “Do you want the whole tour of the place?” Elizabeth looked around her, sipped her wine, and then nodded.

  “I think I’d like to see how a billionaire lives in the Chicago suburbs,” she told him with a little grin.

  So, they both got up, and Luke made sure that Elizabeth’s glass was still full as he showed her around the spacious townhouse. There was a ground-level patio and a tiny almost-yard, with a table and chairs for those nights and mornings that he wanted to eat outside, and a formal dining room attached to the living room, which he hadn’t done nearly as much with as he had the rest of the place; there was a long table that he had taken from his parents’ place when they offered it to him, and his mother’s china hutch, but not much else.

  “This is the guest bedroom that’s actually a guest bedroom,” he told her, opening the door to the room where half a dozen of his friends had crashed over the past few years. He’d gotten a decorator to do most of the design of the house, and she’d done him proud in the guest room: it looked comfortable without looking overly masculine or feminine. The bed was comfortable enough that, more than once, Luke had crashed there--from being too drunk or too exhausted to feel up to taking the stairs up to his own proper bedroom. There was a guest bathroom attached to that, with a tub shower and two-sink vanity.

  “It looks really nice in here. Hell, if I was your guest, you’d have a hard time convincing me to leave,” Elizabeth told him with a little grin.

  “I had them redo the counters and the floors,” Luke said. “Same with the master suite upstairs--you’ll see.”

  He showed her the office, which did have a small twin-sized bed in it as a backup, and then led Elizabeth upstairs. “This is where the baby’s bedroom is going to be,” he said, opening the door to the almost-empty room that used to be his office. The lights came up as they entered, revealing the new paint job he’d had done: a soft, buttery yellow colored the walls, perfect for either a boy or a girl. Everything had been swept, and the wood floors had been steamed, and he’d gotten the dimensions written down so he knew what size furniture he could put in for his future child.

  “It’s kind of amazing that you’ve actually already gotten this far,” Elizabeth said. “You must be really into the idea of having a kid.”

  “I am,” Luke said. “Also, I figured it would be easier to start the process before the pregnancy actually happens. That way when it gets closer to the end, there’s not as much of a transition to take care of.” Elizabeth nodded.

  “So, I guess that just leaves your refuge in this big old house,” she said with a playful smile, and Luke rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, but you’re not allowed to say that I have to give you the same,” he told her jokingly. “I am not investing that much money in a place you might only live in for a year.”

  “I fully intended on doing my own decorating, thank you very much,” Elizabeth told him tartly.

  “I know, I know…” Luke led her away from the almost-empty room and down a short hallway into the master suite.

  He had devoted the largest part of his budget to that space and told himself at the time that it was the only real choice to make: after all, he planned on living in the townhouse for years to come, and he wanted everything to be exactly right for his tastes. As they stepped into the room, the lights came up, and Luke watched as Elizabeth took it all in. “I actually had them expand the room a bit--not a whole lot, but some--to fit everything,” he explained.

  “It does kind of look...well, huge,” Elizabeth observed.

  “The bed is a custom job, a little bit larger than king size,” Luke explained. “I had the hardwood floors replaced, commissioned a rug for the floor space.” He opened the closet to reveal its contents: mostly clothes, with a few other odds and ends that were neatly arranged. There was a couch in the spacious room, positioned next to the fire but with as good a view of the big, flat screen smart TV that dominated one wall.

  The real selling point of the room--and where he’d invested the most money--was the master bath: a big tub, large enough for two people to lie in it, along with a smaller walk-in shower cubicle. One wall of the bathroom was dominated by the vanity: two sinks with a mirror inset into the wall from just above waist height to the ceiling. The floors and walls were done in marble, and he’d had an infrared heating system installed. “This way, I can avoid that whole situation where you get out of the shower and suddenly you’re freezing,” he explained to Elizabeth.

  “The ultimate in comfort,” she said dryly. Luke grinned.

  “You’re just jealous because when you get out of the shower, you have to grit your teeth and bear it while you dry off,” he told her. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “I think that billionaires solve problems that barely qualify as problems,” she countered, moving a little closer to him. In spite of the warning bells going off in his mind, in spite of the little voice telling him to keep things professional and businesslike between them for at least another week, Luke couldn’t help himself. He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body close to his.

  He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, giving her plenty of opportunities to pull away or tell him no if she wanted to. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he murmured, holding back for a moment longer before he deepened the kiss. Elizabeth responded almost immediately, her arms draping around his shoulders as she leaned up onto the balls of her feet, pressing her body against his.

  Luke felt the heat gush through his body, headed straight for his groin. Even just kissing Elizabeth was enough to make his cock start to harden, and for a little while, Luke gave into it, letting it happen. But after a few minutes, as things began to intensify between them--hands wandering, almost groping and caressing each other--he started to pull back. It felt like trying to dig a fish hook out of his skin; he didn’t want to break away from her, didn’t want to stop things, but he knew that for his own peace of mind, he had to.

  “We shouldn’t do this again--not yet,” Luke murmured against Elizabeth’s lips.

  “Why not?” The disappointment in her voice cut through him, and Luke almost gave in, almost gave up any pretense of keeping things businesslike.

  “You aren’t ovulating,” he said. He kissed her lightly on the lips again and then pulled back completely. “We should save it for the time when you’re most likely to conceive.” Elizabeth frowned up at him, and Luke wanted more than anything to apologize, but he knew if he did, he’d have to explain more: she was already worried that he was going to back out, and while he had no
intention of doing that, he couldn’t help feeling like he was going to lose control of his feelings, his ability to keep them separate from what they were doing, if he went all in.

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said. “Though I should point out that there are studies that suggest that having sex more often--even when you’re not ovulating--increases the chances of conception.” Luke smiled slightly.

  “I know,” he said. “If you don’t get pregnant this month, we’ll work out a weekly schedule for next month.” He resisted the urge to kiss Elizabeth again, knowing that if he did, he’d give into the whole thing for sure, and that would just open up new complications. She’d only just signed the paperwork; she’d only just officially, formally agreed to let him get her pregnant and have his baby. He had to keep his head on straight if he wanted to see this through without causing a boatload of legal trouble for the both of them.

  “Why don’t we finish off that bottle downstairs?” Elizabeth suggested. “It would be a shame to let it go flat.”

  “Let’s do that,” Luke agreed. “And then I’ll get David to take you home.” Elizabeth still looked a little hurt, but she nodded, giving him a smile. The moment--such as it was--between them had passed, and Luke hoped he hadn’t managed to screw things up even worse in his attempt to avoid screwing them up in the first place.

  Chapter9

  Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling of the doctor’s office where she’d been waiting for about an hour, between the waiting room and the actual office itself; she’d gone in two days before to get the bloodwork and other tests actually done, and thanks to the money that Luke had been willing to pay to have the results expedited, she was ready to hear the results. She’d had a preliminary fertility test done when she’d signed up for the surrogacy site; after all, there was not much point in signing up if it turned out that she was unable to have children at all. That had confirmed that she was, at least, able to carry a child, and healthy enough to do so.

  The tests that Luke’s doctor had wanted to do were more intensive, and Elizabeth was surprised to learn that it was even possible for so many tests to be done in such a short timeframe. Amazing what money will get you, she thought idly, waiting for the doctor to come in.

  There had been an ultrasound, an x-ray of some kind, a pelvic exam--all of which had been sent to some kind of expert, and which Elizabeth had signed off on Luke receiving copies of--and blood tests. “Normally, we have to do some of these tests on certain days of your cycle,” the doctor had said; the woman had given Elizabeth a wry grin with that news. “But if you’ve tracked cycles and you know down to the day about when in your cycle you should be--and you do, thanks to that clever app you have--then we can extrapolate data a little bit. Of course, ideally, we’ll have you in again just for the bloodwork parts when your period happens, so we can get a full profile.”

  So, Elizabeth waited, knowing that Luke was waiting to hear from her as well. He would be getting the reports from the doctor and probably a call from the woman as well if he wanted to discuss them. There was something in Elizabeth that squirmed slightly at the idea of a semi-stranger having such intimate knowledge of her body, but she reminded herself that Luke had hired her to carry a child for him; if it hadn’t been him, then she would have had similar experiences with whoever might have chosen her profile, for the sake of carrying their frozen embryos or something similar to that. She had to count her blessings that at least it was someone who she knew a little bit of.

  Finally, the doctor came in. She was a woman of about fifty years of age with graying blonde hair and a slightly weathered look to her face; wrinkles had already started to show themselves on Dr. Marchman’s face, but she had a kind of crackling vitality that belied her age. “I’m sorry for the wait,” the woman said, bustling into the room and closing the door behind her. “I just had to counsel a couple who found out that it’s dad who’s the problem.” She shook her head, sighing. “Lord save us all from fragile masculinity.”

  “It’s all right,” Elizabeth said. “I didn’t have much planned for today, anyhow.” Dr. Marchman laughed and sat down, opening up the file.

  “You work freelance, you said, right?” Elizabeth nodded. “Then I’ll believe it and not think you’re trying to make me feel better. In any case, we can get you out of here quickly, because the results are all very favorable.” She looked over the charts and reports in the folder and nodded to herself.

  “That’s great news,” Elizabeth said, smiling.

  “I’ll want you to come back in for another blood draw when your period starts, to look at your hormone levels and get a full portrait,” the doctor said, looking up. “But there are no blockages, and while your uterus is slightly tilted--that’ll cause you some discomfort during the pregnancy itself, and is probably why your cramps are so bad--you should have no trouble getting pregnant. Your hormone panels all look good, and your nutrient levels are great.”

  “And you already know that Luke’s…”

  “Luke’s results are favorable as well,” the woman confirmed with a nod. “From what I can see, there’s no reason that I can predict for you to even need any kind of fertility-boosting treatments--either of you. Of course, stress and other factors can lead to some trouble, but if you’re just starting out, there’s no reason to think it will take less than about three months for you to get knocked up!” Dr. Marchman beamed. Elizabeth couldn’t help laughing at the slightly sardonic twist to the woman’s words.

  “You’re going to be my doctor throughout the process, right?”

  “Luke has asked me to be, yes,” the doctor replied. “If you’re interested in a different obstetrician…”

  “No--no, I was hoping I would just work with you,” Elizabeth said. Dr. Marchman smiled broadly.

  “I was going to say that I know some excellent men and women, but it’s nice occasionally to spread out from my usual specialty arena and focus on one patient from beginning to new beginning.”

  “Can I get copies of the reports?” the doctor nodded.

  “Absolutely! We’re happy to supply them. Luke’s already gotten his copies by courier as of maybe ten minutes before I came in, so when you meet with him later and he tries to convince you to try something--some treatment or something like that--you’ll have your own paperwork and my advice that you not try anything until you’ve gone at it for three months and haven’t gotten results.” Elizabeth snorted.

  “You don’t really think he’s going to try that, do you?”

  Dr. Marchman shrugged.

  “He seems like a reasonable guy,” she admitted. “But these billionaires--sometimes they expect the stars and moon on a silver chain, delivered to their door without any talk of physics.” Elizabeth had to laugh at that image.

  “I think I’ll be all right, but I would like a copy of my paperwork just to have it,” she said.

  “Like I said: happy to oblige. One recommendation I’ll give you is to find a good prenatal vitamin now--some of the iron in the formulas can upset your stomach--and start taking it right away. Your nutrient levels are great, but the transition to a new vitamin regime can shake things up, and if you’re going to have stomach problems, it’s better to have them before you get pregnant.” The woman turned in her chair and opened up a drawer in the little desk she’d sat at. Elizabeth watched as she reached in and pulled out a bunch of sample packets.

  “Wow,” Elizabeth said as the woman began sorting through them, picking out one of each type.

  “There’s a lot of options out there,” Dr. Marchman said with a little grin. “Some of these have pretty high iron, which you don’t really need, but you also don’t have the genetic issues with accumulating too much iron. Each packet has two to three days’ worth of vitamins, so enough time to know whether you’re going to react poorly. Find the one you like the best, and when you come in again, I’ll write you a prescription for that.”

  The rest of the visit went quickly, just as the doctor had promised; the longest that Elizabeth
had to wait was for the office manager to print out copies of her paperwork. She took her phone out of her purse as she walked out of the doctor’s office and found Luke’s contact information in her address book. While looking around to try and remember where she was supposed to pick up the train, she called Luke, knowing that he expected to hear from her as soon as she was out of the visit.

  “Just got the results about twenty minutes ago,” Luke said as soon as the line connected. “Do you want to meet with me for lunch? I know it’s a bit early, but some of the places in town are open already.”

  “Why don’t we get some of that pizza you were talking about before?” Elizabeth gripped the paperwork in its folder a little tighter, realizing that if he just gave her a location to go to, it was going to be a little bit tricky for her--she still wasn’t sure about the trains. But she was determined to get used to the transportation system in Chicago and not rely on her car or the offer that Luke had made to get her a driver. Even he didn’t use his driver all the time, Elizabeth knew.

  “If you want to meet me at Giordano’s, that should be pretty straightforward from the office,” Luke suggested. “About five minutes by train.”

  “Aren’t there like five of those?” Luke chuckled.

  “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” he admitted. “Meet me at the one on Jackson Boulevard, that’s close to both of us right now.”

  “Give me a second to look it up, so I can make sure I know where to go,” Elizabeth told him. She opened up the Map app in her phone and found the address, confirming it with Luke quickly. It was, as he said, just a quick train ride; it would put her deeper into the city, closer to the Loop, but the train ride back to her apartment would be fairly direct afterwards.

  She told him she’d be there in ten or fifteen minutes and hung up, feeling weirdly hot and cold all over. It was one thing to move to Chicago, another thing to sign a contract, and yet another thing still to know that she and Luke would be trying to make a baby in a matter of days. Do you really think you’re going to get pregnant on your first try? I mean...even people who have sex all the time don’t always “take” for a few months, and Dr. Marchman even said to give it three months before you try anything more intensive.