The British Billionaire's Baby

by Cristina Grenier

  The man had begun creeping up on her at all hours of the day and night, without warning. He would catch her in the hall bedroom, in her studio, or even in the kitchen, inching up her dresses and drugging her with kisses until she let him have his way with her – more than once within earshot of his staff. He was absolutely shameless – and Gabby found that she loved it.

  There had been a two week period when she’d realized, with no small amount of horror that she was developing stretch marks and that her breasts would probably never regain their former perkiness. She was swelling like a balloon and her face had become round as a ripe peach. She’d been utterly mortified and suddenly struck with the notion that Sebastian would never want to touch her again.

  He’d quickly banished the notion from her mind and Gabby had watched in the massive bedroom mirror as the man had set his talented mouth to work for hours, until she couldn’t move a muscle and her mind was numb with pleasure.

  He was a different person without his mother around to pressure him – and it wasn’t just that; the man seemed to have broken from her completely when it came to matters concerning the child. There were no more boarding school pamphlets or horse showings. In fact, Sebastian had recently taken her to one of Britain’s most renowned toymakers to commission some things for the baby. He’d made a ridiculously long list, his eyes alight as he’d done so – and his good mood had been infections. So much so that they’d had to stop off on the way home in a discreet location to calm themselves somewhat.

  All the drab decorations that the Duchess had bought for the nursery had been taken down – and indeed, the location of the room had been changed entirely. Sebastian had suggested that a guest room filled with light and hosting breathtaking views be newly appropriated, and Gabby couldn’t have agreed more. The new suite had been rapidly filled with plush furniture, its large closet filled with infant clothes. The room was painted in hues of green and yellow – gender neutral, Gabrielle insisted , though the closer she grew to her due date the more she felt the baby was bound to be a boy.

  It was boisterous inside her, kicking far before she was ready to wake up and keeping her up late into the night. However, nothing gave Gabby more pleasure than to lay on her back in bed, rubbing over her belly and feeling the life inside her. There was no feeling like it in the entire world.

  She remembered the expression on Sebastian’s face the first time he’d felt the baby kick. His eyes had lit with a wild pleasure as he’d looked from her belly to her face and back again. He’d laid his head against her stomach reverently, stroking it gently as the child within her squirmed against his cheek.

  And Gabrielle had known, quite suddenly, that leaving him in two months was going to be easier said than done. Things had…changed between she and Sebastian. Every time she lay in his arms after they’d been together – the heart-achingly soft kisses he placed on her stomach when he thought she was asleep….the way he insisted on rubbing her feet after she’d painted all day or stroked her belly when it felt particularly heavy…it wasn’t just for show anymore.

  She had very real feelings for him. Despite the promise she’d made to herself – despite the fact that she knew that she had no place in his world – she had fallen desperately in love with the man.

  “Did you just go into labor for real?” She jolted as Tristan’s inquiry broke her from her thoughts. She looked up to see the man extending a cup of tea with cream and sugar to her. If there was one British custom that the man had taken wholeheartedly to, it was tea time. He had, she didn’t dare say out light, gained at least five pounds from tea cakes alone – though she had to admit that it still looked good on him. “That expression…you look like you’re in pain.”

  “Oh, fuck off.” She rebuffed him playfully, merely shaking her head. “You’re such a comedian.”

  “Headlined all the clubs back home.” He sank down on the couch next to her as she took her tea. “But seriously, darling, what’s the matter?”

  Gabrielle groaned before downing half of her tea in one gulp. “That’s just it: nothing’s the matter. Everything’s perfect.”

  Her lower lip jutting out in a pout, she set her teacup on the coffee table.

  Tristan arched a brow, sipping from his own cup. “Everything’s perfect, but you’re throwing a tantrum? I’m a bit lost.”

  “Tristan, none of this makes sense. I’m a nobody from Harlem – a bottom of the rung artist. Yet here I am, living the high life in London, about to have the Earl of Raithwithe’s baby, and I can’t think of any need I have that hasn’t been provided for.”

  “And there’s something wrong with that?”

  “Yes…no. I don’t know!”

  Eying her curiously, the man set his tea aside before crossing his legs primly. “Alright, when’s the last time Sebastian tickled your fancy?”

  Gabby’s checks flushed crimson. “What? What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re pissy when you’re horny. It’s a pregnancy thing. So, come on, dish. When?”

  Gabby swallowed thickly as she remembered. It had been barely an hour before she’d left for Tristan’s house – in the shower. Sebastian had bent her over the marble seat and taken her from behind until her knees had turned to jelly.

  Her face must have said it all. “So, recently then. That rules that out.” Tristan peered closely at her red face before his eyes widened. “Wait a minute…you haven’t…oh, no, Gabby.”

  “’Oh no’, what?” She demanded, her voice cracking over the statement. But Tristan was merely shaking his head, his expression utterly solemn.

  “I suppose it was inevitable.”

  “What’s inevitable?”

  “He’s charming, rich, amazing in the sack and now that his mother’s gone…” Tristan sighed, reaching out to cover her hand with his own. “You’re in love with him.”

  Gabby gaped at him for a moment before she began to splutter, gasping for words “I-I mean- you-Tristan! No! That’s not it at all!”

  “That is exactly it. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. It’s written all over your face. Isn’t it dear?” Phillip had chosen that moment to meander through the living room in his boxers and robe and glanced up at the two of them, Tristan’s inquiry having drawn his attention.

  “What’s written all over her face?” He sounded like he’d just woken up from a rather nice nap.

  “That she’s head over heels for Sebastian,” Tristan repeated helpfully.

  “Oh.” Phillip peered at Gabby in much the way his husband had before nodding curtly.

  Gabby was flabbergasted. How on earth could they possibly know? She was on the verge of denying it once more, only to find that, embarrassingly, her eyes were beginning to blur with tears.

  “Oh, darling.” Tristan was immediately alarmed, pulling her into his embrace. “We’re sorry. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m in love with him.” Gabby hiccupped, cursing her damn hormones. “What the hell am I going to do, Tristan?”

  “There, there, sweetie. It’ll be alright.” Tristan pulled a few tissues from a box helpfully extended by Phillip as he rubbed her back gently. “We’ll figure things out. We always do. The man does appear to have genuine feelings for you and the baby. Who’s to say he doesn’t feel the same way?”

  “But I’m a nobody,” Gabby sniffled. “An accident. Once the baby’s delivered, I’m done. He’ll never want to see me again.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  Both Gabrielle and Tristan looked up in surprise at the usually quiet Phillip’s sudden statement. Bending down, the older man touched Gabby’s cheek gently, his smile warm and reassuring. “These eyes see a lot, Gabby.” Tapping the thick lenses he wore, Phillip straightened them on his nose. “I’ve been watching the earl since we arrived. And I’d be willing to bet money that he isn’t just going to let you leave.”

  Gabby’s eyes widened.

  Could Phillip really be on to something? W
as it at all possible that Sebastian wanted something more from her than an heir to bolster his family name and maintain his reputation?

  Gabrielle realized, very abruptly, that those things were what the Duchess had wanted; and while things might have been that way when she’d first arrived, everything was different now.

  Sebastian was different.

  Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as much of a nobody as she’d thought.

  **

  Sebastian was sprawled over the bed, gazing up at the black and white image held loosely in his hand.

  Heir to the Hunter title.

  His child.

  At eight and a half months, eyes, nose and mouth were clearly visible in the womb, as well as tiny fingers and toes. It was a marvel, the earl told himself time and time again, what humans could create.

  He’d watched Gabrielle’s body grow and change for the past few months with a rising sense of humility. Yes, he had assisted in the short act that had produced the biological catalyst for their son or daughter, but she had carried the child for over eight months, enduring mood swings, odd cravings and a body, she constantly attested to him, that she barely recognized any more.

  He, of course, had no problems recognizing it

  If anything, Gabrielle’s rounded form now ignited his lust even more than when he’d first met her. Knowing that his child was growing inside her – that they would soon be graced with a baby he hoped would carry her features…it was enough to take his breath away. He had never imagined he might so anticipate being a father, but with the day almost here, he found himself waking every morning with a thrill of excitement.

  Though Doctor Bletchley insisted that Gabby would carry to term, Sebastian longed to meet the new addition to their family.

  For a moment, his eyes darkened.

  Their family.

  The entire time Gabby had been in England, they’d been putting on a show for the press and high society – a show that was becoming less and less feigned every day. When Sebastian put his arms around Gabrielle, it was because he wanted to – not because he was expected to. When he held her hand at some positively boring social event, it was because he knew she shared his sentiment. And when he rubbed gently over her stomach, feeling the life within her gently undulate, it was because the gesture elated him.

  Their time together was rapidly drawing to a close and Sebastian felt more family to Gabrielle and his unborn child than he ever had with his mother and father. To be completely honest, he hadn’t even begun to concoct what story he would use for their split. He told himself it would be better to wait until the baby was a few months old…perhaps a year. He was sure Gabrielle wouldn’t mind.

  But, deep down, Sebastian knew, it wasn’t a matter of waiting until the time was right.

  He didn’t want her to leave. Ever.

  He had come to a point where he couldn’t imagine a life without the vivacious artist at his side.

  They might not be truly married, but what were papers and a religious ordaining when, in his mind, Gabrielle was already his wife. She belonged by his side.

  The question was: how on earth was he going to convince her of it? The woman was fiercely independent. She treasured her freedom. How could he possibly ask her to go on putting on a façade at social events and dealing with the media’s antics? It wouldn’t be fair. He had promised to release her after the birth of the baby. To suggest anything otherwise would mean breaking his word.

  “Oh my dear sweet Lord, I’m fucking exhausted.”

  He jerked upright as the woman at the forefront of his thoughts entered the room. Though she often complained of the waddle her full belly had awarded her, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel that pregnancy had bestowed upon her some inherent grace. At any rate, she dealt with the baby’s weight far better than she dealt with heels.

  The woman wore a paint splattered t-shirt and leggings, her hair falling in a braid straight down her back. Both palms rested against the base of her spine as she made her way across the room. Sebastian immediately rose to help her to the bed, her immense stomach brushing against his side.

  A groan of pleasure escaped her as she collapsed to the mattress, her eyes sliding closed. A faint smile spread across her face. “I finished it.”

  Sebastian settled on the edge of the bed next to her, his heart light as he returned the gesture. “Did you? I can’t wait to see it.”

  “I’m not sure what I want to call it yet. I think this baby is leeching my brain cells.”

  Sebastian chuckled in amusement. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

  Her gray eyes opened as she stared up at him in mock irritation. “How would you know? Last time I checked, I was the pregnant one.”

  “Well, you still seem very mentally capable to me.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips briefly to hers. When he attempted to pull away, her hand reached up to slide through his hair and she drew him down again for a far more lingering gesture. The slide of her tongue against his had Sebastian instantly straining the front of his slacks and he groaned, lowly. Breaking away, he took a steadying breath. “Perhaps we shouldn’t, Gabby. You’re so far along-”

  “Don’t be a prude.” She teased softly, her smile absolutely wicked. “The doctor said it’s fine. Rising into a sitting position, she reached for the buttons on his shirt. “You wouldn’t want to deny a pregnant woman what she needs, would you?”

  Sebastian watched his shirt part beneath her slender fingers before she pushed it from his shoulders to expose his bare chest. When her fingers ghosted over his nipples, he shuddered in sensation. “I…I know what the Doctor said.” He wanted her badly enough to ravage her on the spot, but part of him feared being too rough with her. The woman did like to be manhandled and he didn’t want to run the risk of hurting her or the child. “I just want to be careful.”

  “We are being careful.” Gabrielle’s hot mouth pressed hot kisses against his neck, just under his ear, and his stomach muscles clenched reflexively. “Extremely careful. So...careful…” Now her hands were slipping into his trousers to cup the straining heat of him and a choked breath escaped him.

  “Gabrielle…”

  “Shhh. Let me take care of you, Sebastian. Like you take care of us.” Rising to her feet, Gabrielle eased him down onto his back before stripping him of his pants and loafers. When he was laid completely bare on the bed before her, she gazed down at him for several long moments before licking her lips indulgently. “You are a ridiculously gorgeous man, do you know that?”

  “Now I do.” He returned faintly, watching with rapt attention as she stripped her shirt over her head to reveal the swollen hill of her belly and the ample v of her cleavage in a dark, lacy bra. Gabby slid her leggings down to her knees before kicking them off, and her panties and brassiere quickly followed suit, leaving her gloriously naked.

  She was utter perfection – a ripe goddess of fertility personified. She ran her hands leisurely down the length of his body and Sebastian’s erection leapt against his stomach. When Gabby observed his reaction, she laughed softly. “You can’t play coy with me, Sebastian. This fabulous body gives you away.” His mouth dried as she knelt at the edge of the bed, nudging his legs apart as she took hold of his erection.

  At the first stroke of her fingers over the weeping flesh, he groaned, grasping handfuls of the coverlet beneath him as she tortured him. His thighs and abdomen tightened in anticipation at the feel of her heated breath against the tip of his cock and Sebastian raised his head to watch her.

  Gabby had absolutely no reserve when it came to pleasuring him with her mouth. She sucked him in immediately to the root and he inhaled sharply through his nose, resisting the urge to buck his hips into the clenching wetness of her mouth. One of her hands crept downward to cup and massage his bullocks as she began to pop her head up and down, stimulating him leisurely – mind-blowingly.

  “Gabby.” He gaped her name raggedly, utterly transfixed by the sight of his member disappearing down her throat
. “Bloody hell, Gabby…”

  She hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through him so he shuddered, finally raising himself quickly to a sitting position to take her braid in a firm grip and draw her glorious mouth from him. “Christ, woman. You’re out to kill me.”

  “Not to kill you.” Gabby gasped as he drew her braid taut a moment before releasing it. “Just to get you a little riled up.” She raised one knee onto the bed, and then the other, straddling him so he was forced backwards once more, onto his forearms.

  Gabby reached down to position his throbbing erection at her drenched entrance. It took so little to arouse her these days - of times he was tempted to see exactly how little. The thought, however, was driven from his mind as she sank down on him, taking the length of him completely inside her until her full belly rested against his own.

  Groaning, Sebastian immediately grasped her hips, his own pressing up instinctively into the tightness of her.

  “God…Sebastian…” Gabrielle’s head fell back as she undulated her hips against him. “So good.” She began to move, raising and lowering her hips so he rubbed deliciously against her inner walls. Her hands found his broad shoulders, curling into them for purchase as she rode him.

  A low epithet escaped him through clenched teeth as he urged her on with his grip at her hips, relishing the way her eager muscles devoured him. This was his woman… his artistic goddess and the mother of his child. Leaning forward, he took the tip of her breast between his lips to suckle gently so Gabby cried out atop him.

  He was rewarded with a few drops of saccharine sweet liquid against his tongue and groaned, envying his son or daughter their decadent fare. Gabby’s hands suddenly cupped his face, drawing it upward so that her mouth could fuse against his.

  Sebastian held her tightly against him, his hips bucking against hers as their pace increased. Faster – deeper until she was murmuring his name in a mindless litany and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Burying his face in her shoulder, he came with a hoarse shout, his entire body tightening as he spilled himself within her.