Triplet Babies for My Billionaire Boss (A Billionaire's Baby Romance)

by Lia Lee

  “I mean, it’s just another homicide. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal.” Michelle set her knife down and ran her fingers through her hair. Michelle’s hair was the same color as Anne’s, but it was long and straight, and Michelle normally wore it completely unadorned. She looked loose and relaxed as she sat there with her work.

  Should I tell her about William? Anne wondered. It might help to unburden herself, but strictly speaking, it wasn’t a good idea to share details of a case with a civilian.

  “Okay. It is a big deal. You don’t have to make that face at me,” Michelle said.

  “I wasn’t making a face,” Anne protested.

  “You were making Mom-face,” Michelle said flatly. “Mom-face at Evie; don’t Mom-face at me.”

  Anne smiled a little. “Well, I didn’t mean to. I’m just preoccupied.”

  “Is it a nasty one? The deep evil?”

  Anne rubbed circles on Evie’s back. She was getting sleepy. Anne tossed a toy on the couch aside and sat down.

  “No, not deep evil. Just personal.” Anne pinched her lips to the side. “You remember how I told you that William got out on appeal?”

  “Yeah?” Michelle’s eyes went round. “Oh, God, did someone, I mean, is he…?”

  “No! No, he’s fine. He’s just, you know, a suspect.”

  Michelle’s mouth hung open. “Oh, my God.”

  “Yes.” Anne gave a nod and looked down at Evie’s face. Out cold. It was late. She should’ve stopped obsessing over the case in her office an hour ago and put Evie to bed.

  “Do you think he did it?”

  Anne ran a hand over Evie’s curls. “I’m not sure. I can’t really talk details, but there’s a connection for sure. I just wish I could trust that he would tell me the truth. Or that I’d be able to know when he’s hiding something from me.”

  Michelle sucked in her lower lip and raised a brow.

  “What?”

  “I mean, between the two of you, I dunno how either of you could guess when the other one was lying.” She held her hands up. “Not that I blame you for not telling him about Evie, but he’d for sure want to know.”

  “That’s not an option.” Anne scowled. “He was in prison, and I know he did everything they said, no matter what witchcraft his lawyers pulled. Even worse, his father? God. If I don’t trust William, I sure as hell don’t trust that man. Anthony Spencer is the worst crime lord in Europe.”

  “Point. But still. William’s around now. What if he finds out?”

  “Then, I take a cue from him and lie my ass off. He’s not the only tall, gorgeous man with golden hair in Vegas.”

  Michelle laughed and nodded.

  “And if he comes around—” Anne started.

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “I was going to say, don’t let him anywhere with you alone.”

  Michelle flipped her hair. “Hey, he always liked me. He acted like I was his little sister.”

  “He’s dangerous. No matter how nice he seems, he’s a criminal. I want you to be careful.”

  “Fine, fine, Mom-face.” Michelle rolled her eyes and then flopped on her stomach to finish her homework.

  Anne pointed at her with mock judgment before rising from the sofa to go put Evie to bed. As much as Michelle teased Anne about the “mom-face,” she had essentially been Michelle’s parent for almost six years now. Ever since their mother had died of cancer, the two of them had been on their own, and Anne had been determined to keep the two of them together. That meant getting a job, forgetting whatever she might have planned for her own life, and making sure no one could have a reason to take her little sister away from her.

  Michelle had been young when their mother had passed, but not so young that she couldn’t take some responsibility for herself. It had been a challenge for Anne to go from an older sister to the single mom of a thirteen-year-old, but in the end, it had been worth it. No matter how stressful, even with the surprise addition of Evie, Anne’s family was her life. She would never do anything to jeopardize that.

  Anne placed Evie into her bed, on her back, and locked the side rails into place. Evie, now slightly awake, caught Anne’s sleeve and murmured, indignantly, and without opening her eyes, “‘Mm, not sleepy, Mommy!”

  “No?” Anne suppressed a laugh. “Well, obviously. Would you like me to read to you until you are?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay then. Snuggle in, and I’ll get you a book.” Anne looked through the books piled on Evie’s nightstand and selected one about a plucky narwhal that wanted to be a dolphin. “For all intents and porpoises,” Anne read. “This is a completely true story.”

  Evie opened her eyes and, holding onto her blanket, leaned over so she could see the pages. Anne was about seventy percent convinced that the girl was memorizing the stories because sometimes she would “read” them back to Michelle to impress her.

  Damn brilliant kid.

  ***

  “Bloody cops,” William muttered to himself. He stepped back into his shop and made motions as though he’d forgotten his jacket.

  He could spot a tail from a mile away on a bad day, but the force must have cheaped out on training in the last couple of years because while they’d been ever-present since Anne had shown up accusing him of “murder most foul,” they’d barely made an effort not to be seen. It was more than irritating being followed everywhere. He’d expected they might tap his phones, too, if they hadn’t been so determined to nail him good and proper this time. He had half a mind to march up to the police station and demand that they take him out for dinner, first.

  Ideally, Anne would do the honors, but he was a bit miffed at her for giving them his scent. No one else would’ve been so sharp to catch that the ring at the crime scene had been his. And it was all the more difficult to do business with police lurking around all the time.

  On the outside, his business was Spencer’s Rare Books and Antiques. The deals he made on the side that were covered by importing and trading more mundane items, well, those were of the type that would’ve made dear old Dad proud. If he’d been bothering to talk to William since his arrest, that was. There were a lot of expectations, being the son of an international kingpin. A pity that these expectations never did William a damn bit of good.

  “They’re right outside my door,” William said the moment his contact picked up.

  “Are we still meeting tonight?”

  “I don’t think I could possibly shake them. Puts a real damper on the evening, you know?” William leaned against a table and flicked a mote of dust from his vest. “We’ll have to have a bite some other time.”

  “That’s disappointing.”

  The voice on the other end was equally as British as his own, but a bit posher. William had never quite perfected the Received Pronunciation demanded of him when he’d been set off to school. As a result, his own accent was more inflected and less proper. He sort of liked it that way, sometimes. When in the right mood, he’d even play up the south London-ish bits. Seemed to make folks think he was a bit dangerous.

  The fact that he could be, if he liked, probably helped that thought along.

  “Isn’t it? We’ll have to go out proper sometime. Or order some takeout and catch up.”

  After they’d said their goodbyes, William checked the locks on all the doors and headed outside to his dark gray Aston Martin. There, instead of getting inside immediately, he loitered, pulling out a cigarette and a flip-top lighter. After applying one to the other, he took a long drag and looked out toward the road. It seemed long and dry and almost endless, but he knew that if he went far enough, there would be life and bustle and sex. Antique shops and other curiosities tended not to be located on the Strip, but often just off, or further out into the dust. He’d considered locating his new business nearer to the university, but the chance that he might run into the little sister there was high, depending on what the girl’s interests were now. When he’d known Michelle, she had been a
n adorable little nerd. Dead obsessed with Harry Potter. Either way, William suspected that she wouldn’t be too friendly and that Anne would be less than pleased if he tried to buddy up to her sister again.

  William let out a long string of smoke. He could see the lights of the Strip from here. It was harder to trail him when he was down there. Especially when he slipped on down to Freemont, where a lot more deals went down. He had no plans of being so obvious, however. He dropped the butt and ground it out with his heel, then got into his car. He started to drive back to the hotel.

  As his Aston Martin zipped down the road, William could almost see Anne in his passenger seat, her hair billowing behind her as he revved the engine. It had been a different car. Same brand, different model. Up until that point, he’d never seen her look so relaxed. So free. From top to bottom, Anne had always been just a cop, wound too tight, with too much to prove. That night though, with the uniform at home and her hair loose, the other parts of her had seemed to unfurl, a vibrant young woman with layers and layers of wit, kindness, loss, and beauty. That had been the night that they’d told one another about losing their mothers. It had been the night when he’d devoured her tempting neck with kisses, and the night she’d let him.

  His thoughts were drifting toward the image of her thighs peeking out of a pair of jean shorts when the blue and red lights began to flash behind him. What now? He’d done precisely nothing to warrant being pulled over. He’d even kept to the speed limit, something that he was almost morally opposed to, due to his stalkers with badges. With a huff of irritation, William pulled over and reached for his license.

  Chapter Four

  Anne reached blindly over to her nightstand. Was that her alarm? Normally, she woke before it. Her fingers slid over the screen, expecting silence.

  Instead, a peeved British voice snapped: “Could you possibly call off your dogs, pet?”

  Pet? Anne sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the phone. The number was unknown, but that was obviously William.

  “What are you talking about?” Anne said after she picked up the phone.

  “Look, I can handle you people following me everywhere, but when you pull me over and search my car for no bloody reason, I’m going to have a bit of a problem. There was no probable cause, it took forever, and one of your moron rookies scratched my Aston Martin.”

  “Oh, my God, William. It’s so early. Why are you calling me about this?”

  “Because you are the one who told them about my ring and caused this moronic pack of roaches to scuttle after me everywhere I go!”

  Anne got out of bed and ruffled her hair as she squinted through the blinds at the rising sun. “If you’d give us a straight answer about the ring, then maybe they’d lose interest.”

  “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten the Los Vegas police’s motto: Harass until you find a reason to call them guilty.”

  Anne winced. “Okay, fine. You’re right.”

  “God, that must’ve hurt to admit.”

  “Cut me some slack, Will. I just woke up,” Anne snapped. “Have you called your lawyer yet?”

  “No. I have business this morning, and it was too late last night.”

  “I would appreciate it if you held off.”

  “I’m sure you would.”

  “I just need to talk to the guys at the station. No one wants to taint this investigation. I’m sure it was just a couple of rookies trying too hard to prove themselves.” Anne paused. “Thank you for calling me before you did anything. It means a lot. Having this case explode wouldn’t be good for me right now.”

  “Didn’t do it for you, love.”

  Love. Anne sighed, uncertain what to say next. “Too bad. You’re thanked.”

  William was quiet for a moment. She could imagine him pursing his lips and his sharp cheekbones sticking out even more as he did so.

  “I don’t have any information for you,” he said finally. “I’ve hardly had the opportunity to go anywhere but work and the hotel.”

  “Have you been looking?” She made no effort to keep the surprise out of her voice.

  “Only inasmuch as I would prefer to stay on this side of the prison walls. As you might imagine, it’s no vacation.”

  Anne smiled reluctantly and picked up her brush. “I’m sure.”

  The tottering steps of her daughter caught Anne’s attention, and her heart pounded in alarm.

  “I’ve got to go, William. Thanks again for the heads up.”

  She hung up before he could reply and opened her arms for the toddler rushing toward her.

  ***

  William spared an offended look at his phone, then set it aside and propped his heels on his desk and rested his laptop on his knees.

  “Well, that was rude, wasn’t it?” he said to no one.

  The bit about having a meeting was a lie, in a way, although he did have plans. After he’d finally gotten home last night, he’d met up with Erin O’Malley who had come to his suite on the pretense of making a delivery, just as they’d specified on the phone before he’d left the shop. He’d been lucky that she’d waited. There had been loose ends to tie up from his trip to California, and anything that looked remotely shady right now could be a huge liability, with all of these police around.

  At least Anne hadn’t orchestrated this extended harassment. It didn’t mean their relationship could be salvaged, but he would take it.

  William took a sip of tea as he typed with one hand. The police servers weren’t particularly well-guarded, and with the password Erin had given him (he wasn’t going to ask how she’d gotten it), it only took a few minutes for him to get into their files. He combed through each file with a critical eye. There was a lot here that would be beneficial to know for future business, and some that would help if he ever needed to blackmail a few officers, but he had to focus. Jarvis Pigg, everything about him. Life and death.

  Unsurprisingly, Pigg hadn’t been a model citizen while alive. What bothered William was the fact that he’d never met this bloke. He would’ve thought that there might be more of a connection, or that perhaps he’d run into him during a deal, or in prison, but he’d never seen him. He didn’t even recognize the tattoos clearly visible from the autopsy photos.

  William bit down on his thumbnail and increased the picture size. Nothing better in the morning than scanning the naked corpse of some pasty white thug for clues. Pity the police didn’t bother to do this. It took three scans before he saw anything of interest. He made the image bigger still, but the resolution was too low. He could barely make out the mark. It might’ve been something else. A cat scratch, or a papercut. But maybe not.

  Setting the laptop back on his desk, William sighed heavily. If he were right, there would be more than one murder for the Vegas PD to investigate. Well, more than usual, since Vegas tended to average about 130-150 murders per year. That part wasn’t particularly compelling to William. The problem was that if that mark meant what he thought, he might be one of them. There was no guarantee that he’d still be a target. Logically, if someone had wanted him dead, it would’ve been easier to take him down while he was still in prison. However, he’d just gotten his life back. He had no desire to lose it.

  He rose and headed to the kitchen, considering his next move. There were ways to get information to the police, but since he didn’t know the name or the current alliance of this killer, it would be difficult to tip them off without simply walking into the station and telling them to look at the evidence more closely. Then there was the problem of his missing ring. The police weren’t looking in the right places, all because of that red herring dropped by a common thug’s foot.

  As William poured his tea, his thoughts drifted to Anne. This killer, in particular, had once favored knives. Now he was using bullets. There was nothing to suggest that he might not target her if she got too close. He remembered a time when an officer who had simply been following him had gotten put down for getting in the way.

  “Goddammit, Anne.”

/>   He watched the brown tea billowing up against the water in his cup. Anne could really die. She hated him, and she’d shown no care for his well-being… but she could die.

  His heart constricted as he remembered the feel of her skin against his own. The way she had always stomped away after a fight in those heeled boots of hers that she tried to use to make up for her height. The way her breasts hung above his chest as she straddled him. How when they’d first kissed, their mouths had come together so passionately and so hurriedly that their teeth had clicked. It had been as though they both knew they had to be together right then, or never.

  William had no shortage of memories of Anne. She had taken a decidedly law-oriented life path, but she could dance as well, as if she’d spent every day in high school and beyond in the worst of the clubs in the Las Vegas Valley. He remembered one night they had come home together to talk. She’d started to unbutton her blouse, and the air left his lungs. They’d been teasing at that point. A seemingly unending back and forth. He’d laced innuendo into every word he spoke to her, knowing that all of her resistance was fortified against him. She was the law; he aimed to subvert it. Their flirtation shouldn’t have gone further than that.

  But it had, that night. Anne had unbuttoned her shirt halfway as William stared at her stupidly. His groin gave a tug, and his stomach seemed to flip. Her lips smiled, teasing, and she rolled her shoulders. He’d even forgotten that he’d put on music when they’d stepped into his house. His hand still at the door, he threw the deadbolt and closed the distance between them. Her hips moved fluidly, as though detached from her. They had a life and movement of their own, and they captivated him as he stood there, for the first time since meeting her, unable to find something to say.

  Her blouse fell to the floor, and she stood there in a camisole and tight pants that hugged her hips and dipped below her navel. William was drawn to her. His hands cupped her sides as he took her mouth in a forceful kiss that she seemed to beg for. She gave back as good as she got, and soon he almost felt breathless. His hands had drifted to her back, and then slipped lower, lower…