Keeping His Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

by Kira Blakely

  “I can do this. I can make this deal.”

  Funny how I’m just a bargaining chip.

  But for my mom and for my family, I’d do anything.

  Easing out of the door, I was about to pull my cell from my purse when I bumped into George. Apparently, he’d been waiting in the salon for me the whole time. Ugh. He was trying for casual, leaning against one of the sofas in the waiting room.

  “So, you ready for that lunch?”

  “I said no.”

  “Okay, then let’s really cut to the chase.”

  Not likely.

  “And?” I said.

  “I talked to Carol this morning when she came in for running some figures. She told me everything that dick McManus wants.”

  “What I agree to do is my own business.”

  He reached out and grabbed my forearm so tightly that I let out an involuntary yip, but still he held on. “Belle, you don’t have to do this. Think about us.”

  “First, we’re not an item and we never were.”

  He clenched his jaw, and I could see a vein popping out in his forehead before he spoke again. “You should be mine, Belle, and one day I’m going to find a way to make it so.”

  I jerked back from him. “No. I’m not yours, and I never will be.”

  Chapter Three

  Drake

  “Sir, I hope Ms. Fontaine arrives soon,” my driver Leonard said with his thick Haitian accent.

  Outside of Mrs. Johnson, he was my most trusted assistant. He was one of the only people I could actually laugh with, those times I could chuckle at all. Maybe it was because he’d seen his share of tragedy, too, things we didn’t get too deeply into that had sent him to the States almost fifteen years ago. Still, he was quiet and calm, a balance to the churning waves I barely kept clamped down.

  I nodded, folding my newspaper and setting it on my lap. Then I looked out the window of my private jet and out toward the tarmac. “She better be.”

  Leonard sighed. “Should I mention, sir, that I don’t approve of this strategy?”

  “You have, and you just did again.”

  “Good, because she’s not just a toy you can bid on.”

  I sighed and raked a hand through my black hair. Ever since I’d gotten out of the Marines, I’d hated having it short, anything that even came close to reminding me of a buzz cut. I was done with that life, even if it kept haunting me.

  “I’m aware, but I need this deal, too. My side venture, the talent agency for kids in the inner city, the one trying to help people in South Central Los Angeles, needs a more experienced hand. Someone like Maurice Fontaine can lead it and help it grow.”

  “Then why the games, sir? If you just explained it this way…”

  “Because games are what I have. It would be a publicity disaster for my greater company if people heard even a whisper of the idea that my charity was crumbling through mismanagement. Maurice might have no idea how to Tweet, but he knows how to groom and promote talent, and he’s a very dedicated father. I think he can both reorganize that charity and work closely with those children. The smokescreen, the swagger of the deal, it all keeps my image in place. When you’re the Sultan of Spin, the image is everything.”

  “And you luring a girl to your island, that’s all part of it, too?”

  “It’s already the talk of TMZ. It helps garner interest in both companies,” I objected, as if that was the only reason for me doing it. It wasn’t just about the publicity stunt, or I’d have chosen Carol instead and played checkers with her all month. Deep down, I knew that I wanted Belle. Had wanted her since the moment I’d first seen her. I wasn’t fool enough to believe I could convince Leonard of anything else. “It’s working.”

  “Sir, there’s a girl whose heart is about to be played with, so I hope you know what you’re doing,” Leonard replied, his deep brown eyes regarding me solemnly. “If you crush her, I’ll quit and then kick your butt myself.”

  I chuckled. I would have fired any other employee, except for Mrs. Johnson, for talking to me like this, but Leonard kept me honest. What little of my soul I had left and unsullied only existed because Mrs. Johnson and Leonard protected it so.

  “I’d let you do it.”

  He shook his head back at me. “Sir, I’m fifty, not dead. I can still kick your butt. Now, I’m serious; don’t you hurt this girl. She’s here to help her family, and you need to take it easy with her, maybe actually just focus on negotiations after all.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement,” I said, my tone clipped.

  “Sure, but at least I’ve warned you. I’d be a bad assistant if I let you rush into a burning house.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, gripping my armrests.

  “I think Penelope and I disagree on that.”

  I glanced out the window and was partially relieved to see that Belle was gathering her bags. However, I was shocked when some prick with slicked back hair was trailing behind her. Seriously, what the fuck? Did this asshole not know she was mine? Had she lied and decided to bring someone else along with her? Hopping out of my seat, I rushed down the stairs to see what was going on.

  “Oh, princess, you’re right on time. I appreciate the professionalism,” I said. Then I glared at the dick who’d followed her. Some corner of my brain, some still rational part that had done the research on the company, supplied that it was George Peters, but I didn’t give too much of a shit. He was here, and I was not letting him come to the Bahamas with us. “Mr. Peters, I think that the deal was to have Belle do the negotiations solo.”

  He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. If he thought he looked like a superhero striking that pose, he was wrong. Instead, he looked more like a self-important rooster strutting in a barnyard. He was definitely cocking things up for me.

  “I thought she could use an escort.”

  She pursed her lips and clearly wasn’t any happier to see George than I was. “I said goodbye to the family today before I left my house. You can imagine my surprise when he showed up at the parking side of the jet yard and followed me here.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to calm myself. If I had my hands free, then I might have clenched my fists and taken a swing. “Again, Mr. Peters, I don’t think that Ms. Fontaine requires your presence here.”

  George glared back at me, and I wanted to laugh in his face. I would’ve if Belle hadn’t been there. “I don’t think she requires going to the Bahamas either. You think I don’t know what you’re about, McManus? I know your game, and I think it’s sick that you’re using Belle like some kind of bargaining chip. I know that no one else will rock the boat, but I’m going to.”

  Belle put a hand on George’s forearm. “It’s okay.” She turned to me, her eyes darting around quickly. “He sprang this on me. Trust me; I’d never bring him with me on purpose.”

  “I can bet on that,” I said dryly. Then I snapped my fingers signaling for a few of my security detail to come forth, one of the perks of being a billionaire. Two of them grabbed Mr. Peters by the shoulders. “I hope you’ll be okay with my staff seeing you out.”

  “This isn’t over, McManus. I’m not going to forget what you’re doing to Belle or to her family. I know you’re a complete cold-blooded snake, and I’ll be on your ass if you even touch her.”

  Belle rounded on him and shook her head, a fierceness flaring through her that I’d never seen before, one that had my dick hard immediately. “George, enough. I’m a big girl, and you’re not my boyfriend or my brother, but you are an officer of this company and you need to respect the deals the rest of the executive team makes. Now back off.”

  “Agreed,” I said, nodding to my agents.

  It was gratifying to watch that weasel be dragged away.

  Frowning at Belle, I asked, “Are you okay? I’m sorry that asshole was following you. If you want, I can call my team and ask them to have a few bones broken when he’s dropped back off at his house.”

 
Belle eyed me, and finally seeming to get I was joking, offered me a dazzling smile. “That’s a tempting promise, but I think I’ll pass. I hate George, but he doesn’t deserve that. Well, probably doesn’t deserve it.”

  Nodding, I crooked my elbow for her to take. She paused for a few moments before humoring me. There were a lot of things that I was planning on having her do with and for me in this month; the least of it was going to be taking my elbow. Still, I loved the heat of her, the feel of her soft body near mine, even if it was just an arm against my own.

  “Well, the offer stands, so you only have to let me know.”

  ***

  “Champagne?” I asked, pouring a flute for myself. “We’re going to have seven hours to the Bahamas. You might as well relax.”

  She sat ramrod straight in her seat and kept gazing out of the window to the fluffy clouds beside us. “Do you want to go over some figures? Carol and I went back through some plans and changes that I think you’ll like. I think we can really make the eighty cents on the dollar exchange worth your time.”

  “I know other things that are worth my time,” I said, lowering my voice to a rumble. I’d sent Leonard to the cockpit. I didn’t need his knowing disapproval as I started negotiations. “Seriously, you need to relax.”

  “You sound like George,” she said, her tone honest and not bitter.

  I frowned and set my champagne down. “I don’t. He was trying to protect you out of a misguided sense of honor. Make no mistake, princess, I don’t have that. I do intend to actually negotiate.”

  She sighed and pushed her hair off the back of her neck. “But you have other things to do first, like me. I know I’m naïve and almost a dozen years younger than you, but I’m not a complete idiot. I just… I don’t know if I’m ready yet for everything.”

  I leaned forward in my seat and it gave me a better look at the way her blouse dipped low over her cleavage. In all the arguing with George, a button or two must have come loose, or maybe they’d been defective to begin with. Whatever the reason, I was able to catch a glimpse of her bra, a hint of red lace I was dying to see more of.

  Reaching out, I stroked her hair. “You will be, but you’re right. We have a month to discuss business and everything else.” I dropped my hand back from her face, but stayed leaning forward. “This month doesn’t have to be onerous, doesn’t have to be hard.” I said that last word slowly, stretching out every syllable.

  “No, but I’m just trying to steel myself for a deal with the devil.”

  I leaned back and stroked my chin for a second. “Do you think that’s what I am?”

  “I know you have charitable interests, quite a few. I know that what you’ve done with Drake’s Kids in South Central L.A. has been nothing short of miraculous.”

  If I can keep it open and secure with the right man to run the day-to-day operations, yes.

  “See, then I’m not the Big Bad of your nightmares, not some dastardly vampire in an alley or whatever else is on your mind.”

  “Hardly, but I also know how you go through more women in a year than you’d think are even in Southern California.”

  “They all came willingly, Belle, and eventually so will you.”

  “I don’t have any illusions, Drake. I know that whatever we decide to do, then I’m going to be just another story you’ll save up, something you’ll probably brag about with the other masters of the universe over coke and too much Cristal. You can’t say I’m wrong.”

  Reaching out, I let a finger trail over one of her shoulders. “You’re incorrect though, princess. I like having you to myself. It’s why I’ve brought you to my island retreat. This is about you and me, about whatever has been smoldering between us since we met. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice me right off. Your gaze never strayed from me the other day; you never took your blue eyes off me.”

  “I… I can’t completely lie about that, but this is like going from 0 to 60 in no time. I’m trying to read you, Drake, because I have no idea what you’re thinking.”

  I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. “That’s all part of my charm.”

  ***

  Mrs. Johnson took Belle back to her wing the minute we landed. I sensed a lecture coming from Leonard St. Croix, and I had exactly fuck all interest in that. I didn’t need a knowing glance or an impassioned speech from Leonard about how I needed to give up romancing her and just stick to actual business. I knew what I wanted, what was burning through my veins. I could feel it in the way my cock throbbed and my balls were tight and heavy with need. Just being near Belle left me horny as fuck. It was something wild and almost inhuman running through me, something beastly. I needed her, and I’d wanted to touch her in the worst way.

  That was why I came back to my private quarters right away. We had dinner scheduled later tonight, but if I didn’t take the tension off, then I wasn’t going to make it.

  Surging into my bathroom, I slipped quickly out of my suit and tossed the pants and shirt into the hamper. I tried to avoid the mirror. The images I saw there, like the anchor and the logo, brought me back to Iraq. Back to the war and things I wished to God I could change. But still, out my periphery, I caught sight of the sleeve of tattoos up my arm, the “Semper Fi” declaring my loyalty to the Marines. I got it at eighteen, when I was young, fresh, and on my first leave. Now, it’s almost a bigger pain to me than my other mark, the one I try to avoid at all cost. I’d consulted with doctors about getting it removed and the cost wasn’t an issue, of course, but the ink for the sleeve was very dark, harder to remove than most would have thought and I was too busy with meetings to be out of it for a week or more with laser treatments. I’d do it someday and soon, but I needed to make sure my company wouldn’t fall apart during my recovery. So, the tattoo remained, a reminder of my sacrifice written deep into my skin.

  As far as the Marines went, I’d never trade the camaraderie, the amazing men and women I served beside were still the best people I’d ever known. But it had its own tolls, the life that I couldn’t deal with, that I buried with sex and booze, with long nights out on the strip. I could run from it, or at least I could try, but I never seemed to run far enough, never blacked out quite enough. I always ended up back there somehow.

  Usually in my nightmares.

  The steam rose from the shower, and I slipped into it, placing my palms on the tile on the back wall and hunching over, letting the hot water splash over me, cleaning me, as if that was something I could ever be after—

  No.

  Not now.

  Now, I was going to be absorbed by Belle, by the woman I wanted, from her fabulous, rounded breasts—not too huge or fake, but just right—to her amazing, pillowy lips that I’d been fantasizing about for days. That would ease my mind, would ease the trouble rolling through my mind. Keep me from slipping back into my nightmares.

  I lathered up the soap and placed my hands over my cock. One hand was cupping my balls, which were tight with need still, almost ready to go, and the other was stroking my long, thick erection. I closed my eyes and thought about her, about the brown hair I wanted to fist as I pumped into her mouth. I thought about that creamy skin that I longed to stroke and mark while I was fucking her. I thought about everything I could have with her.

  I could have everything this month, and I wanted it. I didn’t want to be cautious or follow the rules. I was goddamn Drake McManus, top of the Fortune 500, and I made the rules, always had.

  Now I had Belle where I wanted her, where I’d craved to have her.

  I thrust into my hand, feeling my balls tense, and I pumped harder, the rhythm of my strokes getting more intense, the heat of the shower merging with the heat pumping through my veins, and I was on fucking fire, consumed by heat as thoughts of her drove me on. I came then, shooting all over the tile, my jizz thick against it.

  I was gasping for breath afterward, inclining my head up to catch the water in my mouth. My knees shook, and an idea came to mind, something that would move too fast even f
or such an arrangement, but something I was dying to do. I would be surprising Belle after dinner, and I hoped she accepted what I’d be offering.

  If she resisted, I’d work hard to convince her, seal that deal.

  It was what I did.

  Chapter Four

  Belle

  I didn’t know how to take all this in. When we landed, I was confronted with the ultimate tropical paradise, a giant compound with a huge wraparound porch in a pale peach color. It looked like it would be at home in Havana or in any Spanish island, even if we were in the Bahamas. Rationally, I knew that Drake was rich, a type of rich my father had always worked and scrabbled toward but could never reach. But it was another thing to see it in person, to see a mansion the size of the average college dorm looming up from the sand and surf. God, the place even had wings. I know because his older, slightly rounded housekeeper, Mrs. Johnson, was showing me to the direct opposite side of the house—-no, estate—from where Drake was headed.

  It took quite a few minutes of walking down labyrinthine halls before we reached my bedroom. I gasped at the tropical island paradise that awaited me: white wicker furniture, a four-poster bed with mosquito netting hanging down from it, and soft, pale lilac walls. Walking farther into the room, I spied an open door that led into a closet overflowing with clothes. I hadn’t checked the labels yet, but I was sure they’d be designer ones, only the best for me this month. I’d had some money growing up before the business went bad, and I liked a fancy dress as much as the next girl. Still, it had been years since I’d even thought of pampering myself. We’d had such a hard time since my father’s money troubles and my mom’s sickness had affected things.

  Nevertheless, it felt like a magnet was pulling me closer to the amazing assortment of finery, as if playing dress up could help this crazy stunt make sense.