“He is a businessman, dear,” Ms. Brook said. “And to him, what is going on with you is simply business. He’ll try to dazzle you with kisses and compliments, because that’s how this strange business is done. But at that end of the day you will never know who he really is. You will never know the real Alexander Atherstone.”
I felt a surge of emotion rising up within me. Before I knew it, I was protesting. “It’s not just sex!” I said, instantly regretting my words. “I mean, it feels like there’s something else there…”
She gave me a tight smile, as if she was looking at some pathetic animal. “I know, love. That’s just how he does things.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not, Ms. O’Connor. I assure you. There is not a person on this earth anymore who knows Alexander as well as I do. You, meanwhile, are now his sexual plaything and will soon be an incubator for his child. Nothing more and nothing less.”
I frowned and looked away.
“I know it might be hard to hear, but I wanted to say it to you now, before you fell any further.”
She turned to leave. “Again,” she said. “You can stay as long as you like.”
As she opened the door to leave, she added one more thing. “If you still don’t believe what I’ve told you,” she said, her back to me. “Consider this: has he ever told you why he wants to have a child? Why he wants to do it this way? Do you really know anything about why you’re in this very odd kind of business relationship with one of the most powerful men on the planet?”
The door closed. Ms. Brook was gone. I was alone, with only lingering questions to keep me company.
The next couple of days were not good ones. Alexander was gone — away on business with no firm return date. And I, having no real job aside from being his eventual surrogate, didn’t have much to do to fill the hours. I spent a lot of time in my apartment, lying in bed and taking long showers. I thought a lot, and tried to work through what Ms. Brook had said to me.
I was analytical enough not to cry about it, at least. I was proud of myself for that. Mostly, I knew that doubting her would be a mistake. She was right when she said she knew Alexander better than anybody. And, while, yeah, it had sometimes felt like maybe Alexander and I were connecting on a level beyond the contract I had signed to carry his child, I had to keep in mind that the idea of him actually wanting to create any kind of life or relationship with me beyond our current circumstance was ridiculous.
He could have anybody, I reasoned. Why would he want me?
I wasn’t an actress or a model or a singer or European royalty. I didn’t come from a wealthy family. I was an heir to nothing and no one. The only guys who had been into me up until now had turned out to be slackers or jerks who ended up running off with blonder girls.
The truth about it was that Alexander was using me. But I couldn’t be mad at him for that, could I? He had been up front about what he was after. And I had agreed to it. I very badly want to be a father. That’s what he had said that first night. The meaningful looks, the stolen kisses and the earth-shaking orgasms couldn’t erase the fact that he didn’t so much want me as he wanted what I was willing to give him. He wanted a child.
Before Ms. Brook confronted me, I was desperate to please him — to get pregnant and move this process forward. But I had to admit that her stinging words had changed things. I knew it wasn’t honourable — I knew it was the wrong thing to think — but during those lonely few days in my apartment, I hoped against hope that all the pregnancy tests I was taking would come up negative. Because a positive test, I realized then, could mean the end of our relationship — the sex, along with the passion, would stop.
I knew that was an unfair attitude, but I couldn’t help it. Now that I had the billionaire, I didn’t want to give him up.
I got the call that Alexander was back in town on a Friday, a few days after he had left for Japan. Ms. Brook called.
“Mr. Atherstone would like to book another session with you,” she said. Sessions, she called them — so formal. Like I was a massage therapist.
Before, my heart would burst with excitement when I got calls like that. But things felt different now. I definitely wasn’t going to back out of the deal — I still needed the money, and I did legitimately want to help Alexander — but I realized I needed to quiet my enthusiasm and start treating this more like the job it was.
It’s a job, not a new life. I made that my motto.
I didn’t primp for this meeting as much as I had in the past, nor did I glide through the lobby of the Atherstone Tower like a pretend secret agent. But I arrived with a smile on my face, and when the private elevator went ding and I saw him standing there — clad, as always, in a well-cut suit — I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. It was hard not to, looking at him. He was so well put-together, with his strong dimples and piercing eyes. It was like he could cast a spell with just a glance.
But that was the problem, I realized. That was what Ms. Brook had warned me about. I had to be careful to not fall under this spell again. It’s a job, not a new life.
“Hey,” he said with a half smile as I stepped off the elevator.
“Hey yourself,” I said back, returning his smile.
He stepped toward me quickly, arcing a strong arm around my back and pulling my body close against his. I had opted against wearing one of his designer dresses that night, instead going for a look that was felt more me — a good pair of tight jeans and a purple T-shirt. He didn’t seem to mind.
His face was close to mine. I could almost feel the stubble of his five o’clock shadow against my skin. Our eyes locked as he moved in to kiss me, but just as our lips were about to meet I pulled back. My mind was racing. I kept hearing words echo through my head again and again and they would not stop.
Consider this, she had said. Has he ever told you why he wants to have a child? Why he wants to do it this way?
In that moment, with the billionaire about to kiss me, all I could think about were those words. I had tried to train myself to let it go. I didn’t really have any right to even ask the question, I realized — it was none of my business. But it still ate at me. Why would a single man his age want to have a child so badly? And why do it this way? He had no biological clock. There was no reason to rush things. Why not find someone to marry and have a child with them? Why go through all this trouble?
Lost in thought, I had unconsciously pulled away from his kiss. “April?” he asked, still holding me close to him. “Is something wrong?”
I pulled together all my courage. I wasn’t going to let myself be weak in this moment. We had a business relationship. I was going to live up to it.
“No,” I said, flatly, doing my best to betray no emotion. “Nothing at all. Let’s just… um, go to the bedroom. I’m ovulating. It’s a good night for it.”
“Something’s bothering you,” he observed, his hand on the back of my T-shirt, tracing the counters of my spine. “You can talk to me.”
My face fell. I broke our shared eye contact and looked away. “I can’t,” I admitted. “It wouldn’t be right.”
He put a hand to my chin and softly lifted, so that I was looking into his eyes again. The look on his face was so sincere and so kind. So much so though that I started to wonder if maybe Ms. Brook was wrong. Maybe Alexander did want something more with me — maybe this wasn’t just business. Maybe it was emotional. Maybe he wanted to let me in.
I didn’t stop to think about what I was saying. I just spoke. “I just… want to know why we’re doing this. Why you’re doing this. Why is it so important you have a child? Why this way? Why me? Why?”
The look of kindness and sincerity on his face vanished almost immediately. He stepped back, no longer touching me. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and stared tersely at the floor of the penthouse. A long pause held the air.
“Maybe another night,” he said flatly. I didn’t know what exactly he meant. Did he want me to leave? Did h
e just mean that maybe he’d explain and answer all my questions on another night?
But he didn’t say anything else. There was no sound in the room except for the ticking of a clock. I realized quickly that I had crossed a line.
“I’m sorry,” I almost whispered, worried that I had screwed everything up. I sighed deeply, fought back tears, then just started rambling. “Look, Mr. Atherstone, it wasn’t — I don’t know. I talked to Ms. Brook and she got me thinking and maybe I was also worried a bit that I was falling into something. You know, with you. And for you. And for this penthouse and this tower and, well, everything. And I just…”
He silenced me by quickly raising his hand, still looking at nothing but the floor.
“Wait,” he said. “What did Ms. Brook say to you?”
“She said I would never really know you.”
He looked up at me, locking his eyes with mine. “Did she? Well, I guess she’s right. No one can ever know me. Not anymore. Look, Ms. O’Connor, we have a contract…”
“I know!” I said, pleading with him. “And I want to keep that contract! Let’s just start again. I shouldn’t have asked!”
He walked over to the big floor-to-ceiling windows. It was dark outside. The lights of the city twinkled like stars.
“You shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “But you did. And now everything is different. This isn’t a game, April. You knew what you were signing up for. If you had questions, you should have asked them before you signed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, wanting to sink into the floor. “But I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe we were moving beyond the contract. I thought maybe you cared about me. And I know now that was stupid and wrong. And I just always say the wrong thing. And I want you to know, Mr. Atherstone, that I’ll just be 100% professional from here on out. No more questions.”
He turned from the window but said nothing. I just kept talking.
“I should have just realized that Ms. Brook was right. That there was no way a man like you could really picture himself with a girl like me.” I forced a small laugh. “I mean, come on — that’d be crazy, right?”
He breathed in deeply. The lights from the city illuminated the faint scar on the side of his face. I hadn’t been fishing for an answer, but for a moment he looked like he was about to give me one. But he didn’t speak. My face went flush and I realized I had been sweating. I knew then that I was in no condition to try to make love with this man — or any man.
“I’ll go,” I said quickly. “We’ll start again tomorrow. Again, you know, I’m so sorry. I know I was prying. I know that was wrong. I’ll just leave…”
I whirled around and pushed toward the nearest door, not looking back or hanging around to hear if he had anything else to say. I didn’t want to wait for the elevator, but I knew there was a stairwell accessible through one of the hallways. I pushed through a heavy door, then another one, but I didn’t find any stairs to descend. Instead, I came out in the open air, high atop his tower on a landscaped rooftop terrace. Just a few feet away, I could see the large rotors of a helicopter with Alexander Atherstone’s name written on the side.
I had tried to escape him. But I couldn’t.
I shivered in the cold air on the rooftop, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. I couldn’t go back inside. I didn’t want to face him again — not tonight, anyway.
It’s not that I was mad at Alexander. I wasn’t. I was mad at myself, mostly. Mad because I once again had maybe screwed up something good by putting my foot in my mouth. Mad because I had let myself start to fall for this man. Mad because I knew I was better and stronger than this — that I wasn’t a girl who was slave to her emotions all the time.
My brain knew all that, but then there was my heart. I couldn’t deny what I was feeling when I looked at him. I like to think I’d be mature enough to have a purely business relationship like this with anyone else. With anyone else, I could shut off my emotions and focus on the job. But Alexander was different.
I walked through the rooftop garden atop the tower until I came to the edge of the building. I sighed deeply and looked at the city. I wished so much then that I was a stronger person. I wished that Ms. Brook hadn’t said what she said and hadn’t forced me away from the safety of my innermost hopes. I wished Alexander could just be honest with me — not because I wanted to be his lover, but just because I so badly wanted to know him. To really know this mysterious man who had come into my life.
But that was too much to ask. I knew that now. Asking may have ruined everything.
I found a small stone bench next to an ornate fountain, and sat down heavily. The weight of all the emotion and confusion of the evening pressed down on my shoulders. I did my absolute best not to cry, thinking about him and even more thinking about what I’d have to say when I talked to him next. Which, I figured, would probably have to be pretty soon — because the only way off this rooftop was through his penthouse.
That cold night was alive with sounds and crackling energy. The fountain behind me babbled. Beneath me, traffic hummed and honked. I could hear the buzz of overhead planes. It all came together as a kind of peaceful urban tranquility.
But then there was another sound. Soft footsteps. And the sound of Alexander’s voice.
He appeared as if in a dream, walking slowly, hands in his pockets. He spoke without looking at me, his eyes turned downwards at the terrace.
“I was married once,” he said. “Not very many people know that. We kept it as quiet as we could. I hate the tabloid stuff. It’s not for me.”
He paused and walked over to the edge of the rooftop, putting his hands on the smooth steel rail, his back to me on the bench.
“Her name was Eva. She worked for an NGO opposed to ruthless capitalism. I was a ruthless capitalist. It should not have worked, but it did. We found something in each other that, well… that I didn’t think I would ever find with anyone.”
I could see his hands gripping the steel railing tightly.
“I had never wanted children, really. I always thought I was too busy — too focused. But she wanted children. And so I started to want them too.”
He turned around now, looking at me, his face stony as if he was trying to hold in emotion.
“It was not easy for Eva and I to get pregnant. I had to bring in some of the world’s top fertility specialists. But we did it. She did it.”
He stepped toward me. I shifted instinctively to make room on the bench beside me. I was so glad when he sat down beside me.
“I still remember so many things about the night she told me the news. We were in Zurich. I had bought this garish flashy red sports car. It was winter. We had dinner at the Spice im Hotel, laughing in the dim lights of the restaurant. She didn’t order her wine, and that was all the indication I needed. I knew. We didn’t need to talk, her and I. I always loved that about her. We never needed to talk. After her drink order, I just looked at her with hopeful eyes, and she looked back. Then she smiled.”
He let out a small smile.
“She never looked more beautiful.”
I watched his face as his spoke, but he didn’t look back at me. His words got more pronounced, almost spiteful — syllables trembling as they tumbled out of him.
“We had dinner. I don’t remember what. It didn’t matter. I was just happy to be with her in those moments — to be with her and our future child. But then the valet pulled up to the curb with that stupid flashy red car. I remember that kid tossing me the keys with a smile. But, well, there was ice on the bridge. The car didn’t handle well in the snow. We hit the river like a brick wall. The water was so cold and I looked and looked and looked for her — for them — but…”
In the dim light of the terrace, I could just faintly see the outline of the scar across the side of his face. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to put my arms around him. I wanted to hold him close to me and tell him it was all right. I wanted to show him how much it had meant to me that he was sharing him
self with me like this.
“By all rights, I should have died that night, Instead of her. Instead of them. That would have been better.”
He turned to look at me finally, his face still stoic.
“I have really enjoyed our time together, April. But you have to understand that I can’t ever replace her. I have tried and failed at that. But maybe I can have something like the family she so wanted us to have. That’s why you’re here. That’s why I made you the offer. Because I still want the family she wanted.”
I finally knew exactly what to say. I reached out and put my hand on top of his.
“I can give you that,” I said.
And I knew it was true. Listening to the billionaire’s story, I could only think about how selfish I had been. This was never about me. This was about him. This was a man who desperately wanted something, and I could help him have it.
A heavy silence held the night air. His fingers thread through mine, his hand feeling warm pressed against mine.
“I’m…” he started, but I stood up, silencing his words. Our eyes locked as I stood in front of him.
“Shh,” I whispered to him. “We don’t need to talk.”
I turned to face him and wordlessly gripped the sides of my shirt. I pulled it up over my head quickly and kicked it to the side. The night air caressed my skin, so cold that I could barely stand it. But I was determined to give Alexander what he needed. I wanted him to put his seed inside me tonight.
I undid my jeans and slipped them down, standing in front of him in just a mismatched set of bra and panties. I wished for a second that I had made more of an effort to dress up for him, but then he stood up quickly and slipped his arm around my back — his hands so warm against my bare skin — and I knew he didn’t care.
“Take me?” I whispered, my lips close to his ear as he embraced me. I didn’t meant it to sound like a question, but after all the emotion of the evening, a part of me still worried he wouldn’t want me to carry his child anymore.
Carrying the Billionaire's Baby, Book 2: The Billionaire's Gift Page 2