by Sandi Lynn
All of a sudden, a severe cramping overtook me as I placed my hand on my belly and doubled over.
“Whoa!” I yelled.
“Anna, what’s wrong?”
“Just a cramp.”
“Have you been experiencing them all day?”
“Yes, but they’re just Braxton Hicks. I think I just need to go home,” I spoke as I got up from the bench.
We began walking towards the entrance of the park when another one hit me.
“Holy shit!” I yelled as my mother took hold of my arm.
“That was too close, Anna. I think you’re in labor.”
“I’m not in labor, Mother. I’m not due for another two and a half weeks.”
“You were born at thirty-seven weeks. Babies come when they’re ready. They don’t care how many more weeks are left or have passed.”
Chapter 38
Wes
My meeting finally ended, so I pulled out my phone on the way back to my office and noticed I had three missed calls from Anna and a voicemail. I brought my phone up to my ear to listen to her message.
“Wes, just so we’re clear, I’m going to kill you when I see you for not answering your phone! I’m on my way to the hospital. I’m in labor. Get there as fast as you can.”
“SHIT!” I yelled as I ran out of the building and hailed a cab.
The driver pulled up to the entrance of the ER and I threw some cash at him and told him to keep the change. Running through the doors, I saw Franco standing at the nurses’ station.
“Franco, where is she?”
“I just got here myself. I’m trying to find out.”
“Where is my wife? She came here in labor. Her name is Anna Carter.”
“Your wife has been taken up to the OB unit, Mr. Carter. Take the elevators up to the fifth floor and the nurses will take you to her.”
“Thank you. Come on, Franco.”
We took the elevators up, and when we stepped off, I rang the buzzer on the door.
“May I help you?” a female voice spoke.
“My wife is up here in labor. Her name is Anna Carter.”
The door buzzed and Franco and I went inside.
“Mr. Carter, I’m Casey, your wife’s nurse. Follow me and I’ll take you to her.”
We followed the nurse down the hall and into Anna’s room. The moment I saw her, I ran to her bedside.
“Sweetheart.” I kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I was in a meeting.”
“I figured.” She squeezed my hand.
“How are you, Momma?” Franco smiled as he grabbed her other hand.
“I’m okay. But once a contraction hits, you might want to run.”
“Wes, there’s something—”
“Anna, I brought you some ice chips,” a woman walked into the room.
“Holy Mary mother of God,” Franco spoke as he stared at her. “That’s Anna’s mother.”
“What?” I looked at Anna.
“It’s a long story.”
“Franco, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Look at you. You’ve grown up into a handsome man.”
“Hello, Anna’s mother. Long time no see.”
“I didn’t know you and Anna were still friends,” she said.
“Anna and I will be best friends until the day we die.”
“You must be Anna’s husband.” She extended her hand to me.
“Yes, I’m Wes Carter.” I lightly shook her hand. “May I ask why you’re here?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Franco spoke.
“My husband Paul and I were in the cupcake shop. I had no idea that Anna owned the place. We went to talk in Central Park, and she went into labor.”
“Are you living in New York?” Franco asked.
“No. Not yet anyway. We’re here looking at places to live.”
“Oh,” Franco said as he looked over at Anna.
I looked at Franco and tilted my head towards the door, gesturing that he take Anna’s mother out of the room so the two of us could talk.
“Anna’s mom, why don’t you come with me and we’ll go get a nice cup of coffee. Tell me what you’ve been up all these years.” He smiled as he placed his hand on her arm.
“Sure. Okay. And please, call me Carla.”
They left the room and I looked at Anna, leaned in, and kissed her lips.
“Are you all right? Is she the reason you went into labor? Did you get yourself all worked up?”
“No, Wes. She’s not the reason. I guess those weren’t Braxton Hicks I was having all morning. And, I’m fine. We talked. When I went into labor, she had a security guard get me a wheelchair and she wheeled me out of the park and got us a cab. She was yelling at the driver to step on it. For the first time in my life, she took care of me.”
“That’s good, sweetheart.” I pressed my lips against her forehead. I still had my concerns.
After eight hours of labor, our daughter, Aubrey Paris Carter, was born at six pounds, ten ounces. She was beautiful and looked exactly like Anna. I was going to have my hands full with her and the boys. I could already tell.
I sat by Anna’s bedside as she breastfed her for the first time. I had a family. A beautiful family who were my entire reason for breathing. I stepped out of the room and called Dr. Stark to tell him the news and to also tell him that Anna’s mother was in town.
“Dr. Stark,” he answered.
“Dr. Stark, it’s Wes Carter.”
“Wes, how are you?”
“I’m good. Anna had the baby.”
“Excellent. How is she doing?”
“She’s good, but there’s another reason I called. Her mother is here with us. They went to Central Park to talk and Anna went into labor.”
“Hmm. Okay. I’ll come by the hospital and pay Anna a visit, in case she wants to talk about it.”
“Thanks, Dr. Stark. I appreciate it.”
Chapter 39
Three Months Later
Anna
The love I felt for my daughter was so overwhelming, I didn’t think it was possible. I sat on the bed with my back against the headboard and my baby on my legs. She was alert and awake as I talked to her and told her how much I loved her.
“There are my two favorite girls in the whole world.” Wes smiled as he walked into the room and kissed us both.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“It was all right. I spent most of it missing the two of you.”
“Is that why you’re home so early?” I smirked.
“Actually, it is.” He smiled as he picked up Aubrey. “If you need to rest, then rest. My daughter and I are going to spend some time together.”
“I pumped some bottles today. Don’t forget, it’s your turn to get up with her tonight.”
“I haven’t forgotten, sweetheart. We’ll be downstairs if you want to join us.” He kissed my head.
Wes was the perfect father. In fact, he was too perfect, and I feared little Miss Aubrey was going to be incredibly spoiled by him. But not only by her daddy, but also by her uncle and godfather, Franco.
After Aubrey was born, I continued my therapy sessions with Dr. Stark, and I continued my yoga and meditation. Everything I feared all these years about having children was for nothing. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
My mother and I slowly started to get to know each other. She was a different person now than when she had me and I realized that everyone deserved a second chance. She was good with Aubrey and I could tell she loved her. I had finally met my half-siblings. I had a sister and a brother. Allie was twenty-one and Michael was nineteen. Wes was afraid that all of this was too soon and that I’d be overwhelmed, but I wasn’t. All of a sudden, I had this instant family and I embraced it.
When I think back to the chain of events that led me to Wes, I knew he was the one I was meant to be with for the rest of my life. The natural forces of the world made sure we met in Paris, and they also made sure it didn’t end there. One night in Paris w
as all it took to change my life forever.
“Anna, can you take her please?” Wes asked as he walked into the room and handed her to me. “She’s been changed and now I need to do the same.”
I looked at his shirt and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Did she?” I asked.
“Yes. How does one child have that much poop in her? She exploded all over me.”
He took off his clothes and went into the bathroom to clean up. Once he changed, he climbed on the bed next to us, hooked his arm around me, and placed his finger in his daughter’s hand while she wrapped her tiny fingers around it.
“I love us.” He smiled as he looked at me.
“I love us too.” I kissed his lips.
“When can we start working on the next one?”
“When can you stop asking such silly questions?”
“Right.” He grinned as he kissed me.
Playing The Millionaire
New York Times, USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author
Sandi Lynn
Copyright © 2017 Sandi Lynn Romance, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Photo & Cover Design by: Sara Eirew @ Sara Eirew Photography
Models: Alex Boivin & Pamela Brisson
Editing by B.Z. Hercules
Mermaids
www.whats-your-sign.com/mermaid-meaning-and-symbolism.html
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Chapter 1
Kate
My eyes were closed, but my mind still planned my next move. My move to leave Seattle and go home. I slowly opened my eyes as I lay there on my side with his arm stretched out over my waist. He was a good man and my time spent with him was coming to an end. Nigel Thorne was a fifty-year-old millionaire who liked to devour younger women. He’d charm them, use them, and then discard them when he got bored. He became bored quickly, which was good for me because I had no plans to stick around. But he said I was different. Great. He said I was a keeper. Shit. For how long, I didn’t know. His first mistake was trusting me. He was a charmer, but I charmed better. He was a seducer, but I had seduced him first. He told me he loved me and I told him not to be silly. We had only known each other a little over two months, just enough time for me to find out his weaknesses and play on them. He bought me expensive handbags and designer clothes, as well as diamond earrings and a bracelet that were worth over twenty thousand dollars.
A small smile crossed his lips as his eyes opened and locked on to mine. His hand swept through my hair as he leaned in and brushed his mouth against mine.
“Good morning,” he whispered.
“Morning,” I spoke with a small smile.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Six thirty.”
His chest heaved as he let out a sigh and rolled onto his back, folding his hands behind his head.
“I have a meeting at eight. Don’t forget about the dinner party at the Andersons’ tonight.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” My finger ran down his chest.
He kissed my forehead before climbing out of bed and hopping into the shower.
“I’ll go make some coffee,” I spoke as I slipped on my red satin robe.
“Thank you, darling.”
He liked his coffee French pressed. Once it was finished, I poured some into his favorite brown mug with one cube of sugar and two splashes of skim milk. Taking it into the bathroom, I set the mug on the counter while he stood in front of the mirror and shaved.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked.
“I thought I’d do some shopping, perhaps buy a new dress for the dinner party tonight.”
“Good idea. Make sure it’s black, tight, and short.” He winked. “Take my credit card and spare no expense.”
I had no intention of attending that party because I’d be long gone before he even got home from the office. Seattle was nice and all, but my time here was up and I had other prospects to check out. As I was leaving the bathroom, he called my name.
“Becca?”
“Yes?” I turned around.
“I think you should move in with me.”
Ugh. I hated when they suggested that. Walking over to him, I placed my hand on his back and stared at him through the mirror.
“We’ll discuss that later. You’re going to be late for your meeting if you don’t hurry up.” I smiled.
“I’m in love with you, Becca Wright.”
My lips pressed against his bare shoulder before I walked into the bedroom and laid out his suit. Once he was dressed and headed out the door, he kissed me goodbye. Little did he know that the kiss he gave me would be his last one. As soon as the front door shut, I showered, got dressed, and went into his home office, where I removed the large painting of a hunting dog that revealed his wall safe. His combination was heavily guarded by him and nobody was allowed in his office when he opened it. I had placed a hidden camera amongst the books that sat on the bookshelf across from the painting. 25 left, 10 right, 5 left, 6 right, and voila, it opened. Inside sat piles of cash, two Rolex watches, a diamond ring that belonged to his grandmother, and important documents that pertained to his business. Documents that could ruin him if anyone ever got their hands on them. I placed the three-carat canary diamond on my finger and held my hand out in front of me. His grandmother raised him his whole life and before she died, she was the most important person in the world. I grabbed a few stacks of cash—about a hundred thousand dollars’ worth—and the two Rolexes and shut the safe. As I was putting the painting back on the wall, my eyes caught sight of his grandmother’s ring. Guilt started to wash over me. As much as I wanted to keep the priceless beauty, I knew it would devastate him if it went missing. He was already going to be devastated enough once he found out I had conned him. So I reopened the safe and placed it back inside the little red velvet box that kept it secure.
I grabbed the small overnight bag that I packed, shoved the money and the watches inside, and headed out the door back to my apartment, which I rented from week to week, took off my short platinum wig, put on my long brunette one, and called for a cab to take me to the airport.
When I arrived, I checked in and placed my luggage on the scale. When I handed the short stocky man my driver’s license, he looked at it and then handed it back to me with a smile.
“Have a safe flight to New York, Miss Greaves.”
“Thank you.” I flashed my pearly whites at him.
I entered the plane, set my carry-on under the seat in front of me, and sank into first-class seat 2D. It always had to be the second row and the window seat. If that seat was sold out, I’d have no problem getting the person who bought it to switch with me. First row was out of the question because they always made you stow your carry-on. Any rows beyond the second always ran out of the first choice of food before the flight attendant reached you. That pissed me off more than anything. And the window? Always the window. It was all about the view and the peace and serenity that I felt when I saw the fluffiness of the clouds that enveloped the sky. Not to mention the fact that I hated people climbing over me to get to the bathroom or the food carts bumping me as the flight attendants made their way up and down the aisles.
I laid my head back and took in a deep breath, my brunette wig still in place and my Chanel sunglasses covering my eyes.
“So you’re the one who booked the window seat?” I heard a man’s powerful voice speak.
I turned my head and slightly lowered my sunglasses only to find a well-tailored black Armani suit staring me in the face. All six foot two o
f it. My eyes watched as he put his carry-on in the overhead compartment, shut it, and then took his seat next to mine. Short light brown hair that was cut in a classic crew. Simple. Stylish. All American. A strong masculine jawline with a perfectly manicured five o’clock shadow, alluring lips, and a pair of men’s Phantom Aviator glasses that covered his eyes. He radiated a scent. Warm yet cool. Sophisticated. Sea-like with a hint of patchouli. He reeked of wealth.
“Excuse me?”
“When I booked this flight, I was disappointed to see the window seat was already taken.” The corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards.
A rush of warmth flooded my panties and I swore I’d just had an orgasm.
“When did you book this flight?” I asked.
“Yesterday.”
“Then maybe you should have booked it sooner if you wanted the window seat.” I smiled.
“Perhaps. But my business in Seattle finished earlier than I expected.”
“May I get you a beverage?” the perky young flight attendant asked.
“Tequila with a splash of lime, please,” I replied.
“And for you, sir.” Her “I want to fuck you” smile widened.
“I’ll have a vodka cranberry. Light on the cranberry.” He grinned.
I glanced down at his arm, which was sitting on the armrest, and took note of the Cartier watch that sat proudly on his wrist. Elegant, powerful, and out-of-this-world expensive. He didn’t remove his sunglasses, but neither did I, so I couldn’t very well say something to him. But I was dying to see his eyes. He wasn’t complete until I saw the color of them. Actually, he would never be complete until I saw firsthand what kind of package he was sporting underneath his expensive designer pants. He was the type of man women fell to their knees for, and I could understand why. He was beyond gorgeous. In fact, I don’t think my eyes ever laid on anyone sexier. He looked to be early thirties, thirty-two at the most.