The Billionaire's Bauble

by Ann Montclair

  “Sloane?” her mother asked. “Sloane, are you there?”

  “Mom, I did something really stupid.”

  Sloane was beginning to realize that she might have wrecked what could have been the best day of her life. She rubbed her belly and felt an uncomfortable twinge.

  “What, honey? What’s wrong?” Sloane’s mother waited while Sloane massaged her belly worriedly.

  “Mom, he asked me after I told him about the baby, so I said no.”

  “You what?” her mother’s voice bit into Sloane’s ear.

  “He had a ring and everything. He was going to propose anyway, but I told him right away and he … He asked me then, and I … I said no.”

  Sloane was about to cry.

  “No? Why? What did you expect him to do? What did you want him to do? I’m confused, sweetheart. I figured you’d want to get married to the father of your child. You do love him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I love him. I said no because he expected me to say yes. He expected me to settle.”

  Sloane heard how lame her excuses sounded. She clenched her teeth.

  “Settle? For the man of your dreams? For a billionaire who is crazy for you and would do anything in the world to please you? Settle?”

  Her mother’s voice was getting higher and higher as she spoke. Sloane felt like crawling under a rock.

  “I am sooooo dumb, Mom.” Sloane admitted. “I asked him if I was his soul mate, and he said he wouldn’t say those words until we were married. He is quite stubborn, Mom, not the easy going guy you imagine. Really!”

  Sloane’s mother laughed, and Sloane felt another twinge.

  “Well, Sloane if you want a fairy tale, you have to work at it. Do you think your father came to me perfect? I had to help him along. Get used to the idea that you won’t always get your way exactly as you want it. You’re going to have to concede now and again that men aren’t perfect. But some are close. I think David is pretty close to perfect, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess . . .” Sloane capitulated, gnawing at her finger nails.

  “Stop chewing your nails and listen to me,” her mother, the psychic, said.

  “Go to him, Sloane. Tell him you made a mistake. You need to grab up your happiness and hold it tightly. If you need a poet, go back to school and find one. Just know, he won’t be David, and he probably won’t be rich. Actions are worth a thousand words. At least in my book.”

  “You’re right, Mom. Thanks. Thanks for listening. Thanks for the advice. I think I’ll take a little nap and then see how I feel. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Sloane clicked off her phone and got to her feet slowly. When she bent back down to get her tea cup, she saw spots of blood where she’d been sitting.

  Chapter 17

  David circled Fairbanks several times, driving past Sloane’s apartment complex as many times as he could without being accused of stalking. He wanted to call her, to see her, to tell her he loved her and couldn’t live without her, but he knew she’d just get mad and tell him he was pushing too hard, too fast. The woman was a control freak, no doubt about it, but maybe he needed to exercise some self-control, too.

  David knew he could have said yes to the soul mate question, but he’d been angry and hurt. He didn’t want to lay his heart bare again and have her pulverize it. Sloane was a tricky animal, and he wished he could tame her, just a little. He remembered how her eyes had gone all velvet soft when he made love to her, how she could be as sweet as a lap cat. Too bad she was half tiger most of the time. He chuckled aloud at the thought.

  Truth was, he admired her fire, loved her spirit, adored the way she made him work so hard to be her man. She deserved every bit of what she demanded. He simply needed to follow her lead. Of course, he couldn’t, and that was the fun of it all. Married life with Sloane would be a roller coaster of excitement, and he would enjoy every breathtaking moment.

  On his fourth time past the complex, he saw her emerge through the door of her apartment. He pulled over to the side of the road and watched her walk to her car and get in. He knew he shouldn’t follow her, but something about her quickened gait made the hairs on his body rise. He had similar premonitions before she fell from the ATV back in New York. David’s heartbeat doubled and his palms became clammy. Stop it, he told himself. He was getting all worked up over nothing. Maybe she was going to find him. Maybe she was going to Forster or Grant.

  Sloane exited the apartment’s parking lot and turned in the opposite direction of his house, of Forster, and of Grant. He followed ten or twelve car lengths behind her, hoping she wouldn’t notice his conspicuous car. Where was she going? And why was she driving so fast? Sloane was a careful driver, and she seemed to be maneuvering her sedan as if she were driving his Maserati. He sped to keep up with her as she drove toward the outskirts of Fairbanks.

  When she made a quick left into the county hospital’s driveway, he passed the turn and struck his fist against the steering wheel in agitation.

  He wheeled his car around in an illegal U-turn and sped back toward the hospital. He saw red lights flashing in his rear view mirror and cursed as a siren blared. He pulled over, and a police car stopped behind him.

  Sloane rushed into the emergency room entrance and almost ran into a man being pushed out in a wheelchair. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she spirited past him to the receptionist’s desk.

  “What’s the problem?” the nurse asked, eyeing Sloane with an evaluative once over.

  “I am pregnant and bleeding,” Sloane said, trying not to let terror overcome her.

  The woman looked at Sloane’s belly and said, “Are you sure you’re pregnant and not menstruating?”

  “I had a pregnancy test several days ago—at a hospital, and it was positive.”

  “How far along are you?” the nurse asked, typing into a computer as she spoke.

  “Seven, eight weeks. I had some cramps, and then I saw some blood.”

  “Please calm down,” the nurse said, and Sloane exhaled, trying to ease her fear.

  “I will need to see your insurance card.”

  Sloane reached into her purse and searched for the card Forster had assigned her. She couldn’t locate it in the vastness of her Vuitton tote. She pulled out the card David gave her the day they met at Grant, the one with Tony’s name and number on it.

  “I work for Forster. I have my boss’s card, but I can’t find my insurance card.”

  Sloane was very close to tears, and she could hear her voice shaking.

  The nurse said, “Since you’re so frazzled, I will call the number and get the insurance information from him.”

  Sloane smiled in relief, and as she handed the card to the woman, for the first time she read the words David had scribbled on the back: Could this be destiny?

  “Officer, please. My fiancé has gone to the hospital. I need to get to her. Can you let me go, give me a ticket in the mail—maybe give a nincompoop like me a break?” David pleaded.

  The officer said, “Wait right here while I run your license and registration.”

  David rubbed his palms together, trying to calm his rising anger. He wanted to rush across the road and go into the hospital. He was 100 yards from Sloane’s car, but she was nowhere in sight. What had happened to send her to the hospital?

  David felt like punching a hole through the windshield, but he remembered how Sloane did yoga-breathing to calm herself, so he tried to breathe in through his nose and exhale through his mouth as she had done. If he got crazy now, he’d go to jail. Then he’d be unable to get to Sloane at all. Damned authority figures. They always picked the worst times to assert themselves.

  The officer came back to the car and said, “Your record is clean. I’ll let you go this time, but you better head straight into that hospital, or I will pull you over again, and I won’t be as nice.”

  David took back the proffered materials and set them on the passenger seat. He thanked the police officer and started his car. Within moments he h
ad parked in the crowded lot and was running into the emergency room entrance, hoping against hope Sloane wasn’t inside. Maybe she was visiting someone.

  He saw her in the registration room and bolted toward her. Was she crying? He was on his knees at her side before she even saw him.

  Throwing her arms around his neck she sobbed, “I’m bleeding, David.”

  “Where? I don’t see any blood. What happened?”

  He scanned her quickly, then held her close and smoothed her long hair over her back.

  “I got up from the couch and there was blood on it. I think it’s the baby.”

  The nurse said, “Bleeding is not uncommon in early pregnancy. Could be anything. We’re going to get you into a room, and the doctor will take a look. Do you have an OBGYN?”

  “No,” they spoke at once, and that made Sloane laugh a little so that snot bubbled from her nose. David wiped it with his sleeve as the nurse handed him a tissue.

  “That’s better,” she said. “I’m glad Daddy is here. He’s good for your spirits. Come on now, and follow me, Sloane. You too, Dad.”

  David helped Sloane up and looked at the chair expecting to see blood. There wasn’t any, though he could see the back of her dress had some dried red spots. David prayed their baby would be fine, that Sloane would be even better. He held Sloane’s arm as they walked behind the registration nurse.

  Sloane was asked to remove her panties and put a gown on over her dress. Tenderly, David helped her accomplish those tasks, and then he sat beside her, holding her hand. He kissed her knuckles and said, “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. No matter what, we’ll be fine. I promise.”

  Sloane closed her eyes and exhaled a gust of air. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “Me, too,” he said.

  A moment later a doctor came in and said, “Hello, I am Dr. Paul Vincent. I read the intake and am here to check you out. I see you’re in the first trimester, and you experienced some bleeding. Can you tell me what precipitated the incident and how much you bled?”

  Sloane explained that she’d been talking to her mom on the phone, and she’d had some cramps. When she stood up, she saw blood and came straight to the hospital. David listened intently and squeezed her hand. He looked at the doctor’s kind face and registered no concern there. Good sign, he thought.

  “As the registering nurse said, bleeding, most often called spotting, isn’t unusual. We’ll draw some blood to get an HCG reading, and we’ll try to get a heartbeat on the Doppler, but it isn’t likely we’ll hear one this early. We can do an ultrasound if the fetal heartbeat can’t be detected. That’ll tell us if the fetus is viable.”

  The doctor’s words hit David’s heart like poison darts.

  Viable?

  He realized in just the few hours since he’d known about the baby he was already attached. He didn’t want to lose the child, and he could see how much a miscarriage would devastate Sloane.

  She nodded her head bravely.

  “Is this your first pregnancy?” The doctor asked as the nurse drew blood from Sloane’s arm.

  “Yes, sir,” she answered in a small, scared voice.

  David felt as helpless as the baby in Sloane’s womb.

  “Well, let’s take a listen.”

  The doctor put a large stethoscope type object on Sloane’s jelled up belly, and nodded his head, a smile spreading across his face.

  “I hear it,” he said.

  Sloane and David said, “Thank goodness,” in unison.

  That made them all laugh.

  “You two are certainly in sync,” the nurse smiled. “This is one fortunate baby.”

  David looked into Sloane’s green eyes, and he saw how clear, how bright they had become.

  “My fiancé has taken excellent care of herself and our baby, so I am the fortunate one.”

  Sloane laughed, “Indeed,” and David grazed her lips with his, unable to suppress his joy.

  “My Sloane,” he murmured.

  The doctor said he wanted to do an ultrasound.

  “That’ll give us an idea of how far along you are and how big the baby is. The heartbeat was strong, but it sounded a little unusual for such an early pregnancy. Are you sure you’re only eight weeks along?”

  David was positive of the exact date of conception and told the doctor so. When the physician put the ultrasound wand on Sloane’s belly, the image on the monitor was unrecognizable to David. Sloane and he scrutinized the picture to no avail.

  The doctor, still smiling, said, “Ah, I thought so. Uh-huh.”

  With a plastic gloved hand, he pointed to a couple of bright spots on the monitor.

  “What doctor? What do you see?” Sloane asked eagerly.

  He smiled into Sloane’s questioning eyes and heartily patted David’s back.

  “You’re having twins.”

  Epilogue

  “I look like two brides,” Sloane laughed as her mother made the final adjustments on the long white veil. Sloane smoothed the silk over her enormous babies bump and attempted to pull up the bodice to cover her blossoming bosom.

  “Nonsense. You’re stunning today. I’m so glad the seamstress could find a way to add extra fabric to my gown. Your breasts are just barely covered, though I’m sure my newest son will love it! I’ve never seen a more devoted or attentive man . . . except your father, of course. Oh, Sloane, I’m thrilled for you. I can’t wait till we have our grandchildren here to spoil. Didn’t I predict we were having twins? Sweetheart, please stop pulling on the bodice. You can’t cover them, so stop trying. Isn’t she breathtaking, Maya?”

  “I have never seen a more lovely or well-endowed bride,” Maya agreed.

  She wrapped her arms around Sloane and the babies in a warm hug.

  “But if we leave David waiting much longer, he’ll send out a search party. Are you ready, Sloane?”

  Sloane laughed, “Well, he won’t let me drive anything anywhere anymore, so he should know I’m safe and sound just as he likes it!”

  “Can’t blame him, dear,” Sloane’s mother chuckled.

  Gazing into the floor length mirror that stood in the corner of her childhood bedroom, Sloane nodded, “I am ready. We better get down to the pond before I burst out of this dress. But, wait. First, tell me, where did David go this morning? It seemed he had some big, secret errand. Do you know, Mom, Maya?”

  Both women smiled and shook their heads no, feigning ignorance.

  David stood in his tuxedo, waiting at the white gazebo, Tony at his side. When Sloane came toward them, David gulped in a giant breath of fresh fall air. The trees tinged brilliantly, orange, red, and yellow—a celebration of color, a celebration of life. He saw the simple flowers she held close to her chest. They had picked them from the family garden, just as Sloane insisted.

  “Here comes my bride,” he managed.

  Tony slapped him on the back, helping David catch his breath.

  Tony whistled long and low at the vision approaching. “Wow, those women are gorgeous. How lucky are we?”

  David admired his spectacular bride as she passed their family, their friends and drifted into his embrace. Her diamond engagement ring caught the late afternoon light, and she whispered into his ear, “Hello, handsome. Did I ever tell you how much I love my ring? It compliments my grandmother’s perfectly.”

  “Wait till you see the bands, sweetheart.”

  David smiled, marveling at her and their ever growing son and daughter. As he enveloped them in a hug, Sloane kissed his cheek lovingly, and the gesture made his heart feel full, confirmed he would never be alone again.

  “I have the rings,” he said, before the minister even had a chance to ask.

  The last minute delay for the engraved platinum bands was well worth the wait he’d endured that morning.

  After the minister proclaimed them married, and before he slipped the ring on his wife’s finger, David showed her the inscription.

  “Soul mate” was etched on each band.

 
When David put the ring on Sloane’s finger, he finally knew the words by heart.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue