The Billionaire's Baby Bargain (A is for Alpha)

by Shelli Stevens

  “We have doctors in the states,” she said with exasperation. “I promise I will take good care of myself and the baby.”

  “Perhaps, but I prefer to have you here.”

  He turned away from her and moved toward the bathroom, trying to give her a bit of space to adjust. “Would you care to bathe? I could have a bath drawn—”

  “No, I would care to be flown home to Seattle. This is madness.” She strode after him. “How long do you intend to keep me here?”

  When she touched his shoulder, some of his control snapped. He spun on his heel and caught her about the waist, hauling her against him; needing her lushness pressed against him and to reassure himself she was here in Spain.

  “Have I not been clear? Until our child is born, Chloe,” he muttered thickly, and slid his hand up her neck to hold her head still. “Then you will be free to leave.”

  Her eyes widened and he could see the pulse in her neck beating furiously. “Leave with my baby?”

  “No. Our child will stay in Spain with me.”

  “No.” Her body weakened against him.

  “I’ve told you. You may stay too, Chloe. As my wife.” His head lowered and he caught her mouth in a deep kiss, tasting her thoroughly.

  When he lifted his head again her lovely eyes flickered with a mix of helplessness and desire. “Please, Andrés.”

  Her whispered plea, combined with the press of her soft curves against his body, had his groin tightening. “I like it when you beg me. It reminds me of other times you begged.”

  Like when she’d been in his bed on that hot summer night, her legs wrapped around his waist while he’d driven into her. He didn’t speak the words, but by the way her cheeks turned pink he knew she thought about it also.

  “My job will wonder where I am,” she challenged huskily.

  “I’ve spoken with the restaurant owner and notified him that you will be leaving to move to Spain with me, your fiancé. I have also paid the rest of your rent and informed your landlord that your lease will not be renewed.”

  Tears filled her eyes again, even while they flashed with anger. “My parents will search for me.”

  “Your parents are deceased,” Andrés said softly, not surprised but a bit saddened that she’d tried to lie again. He’d been surprised to learn Chloe was nearly as alone in the world as he was.

  Pain flickered in her eyes, and then resentment returned. “Well, you’ve certainly thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  “And more.” He visually traced her body. “You are mine, Chloe, until I say otherwise.”

  He wanted to strip her naked and prove it. Kiss every inch of her body until she proclaimed herself his. But she was tired and shocked, and he wasn’t a complete bastard. He could wait. For at least a little while.

  “I have business. Please, make yourself at home in my room. I will have supper sent up shortly.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You will eat,” he said more curtly than intended.

  To soften his words, he slid his hand inward to caress her belly, trying to remind her of the baby. Instead, it was a reminder to himself when he found her stomach not quite as flat as it had been over the summer. Something tightened and then softened inside him when he thought of the child growing inside her womb. A child so helpless and innocent.

  “Eat, Chloe. You must think of the baby,” he said, his voice husky now and his brows furrowed. “I will return later.”

  Chloe watched him go and resisted the urge to throw something after him. Giving a soft sigh, she unthreaded the braids and fluffed her hair so that it fell in loose curls over her shoulders. She glanced at the closed door and wondered if it was locked.

  Most likely, and even if it weren’t, what would she do? Run free and beg for help from his staff? She pressed her palm against her forehead and bit her lip to stop a frenzied giggle.

  She shook her head and crossed the room to where she assumed the bathroom was. She’d stubbornly turned down his offer for a bath, but now a shower sounded exquisite after all the travel and time that had passed.

  The bathroom was just as fancy as the rest of his house, with marble countertops and a sunken bath. She cast a look of longing at the bathtub but pushed aside any notions of a relaxing soak.

  Instead, she stripped out of her clothes, folded them and set them on the counter, then stepped into the oversized shower.

  When she emerged, Chloe felt half alive again, if not at least a bit cleaner. She wrapped a towel around herself and then looked for her clothes she’d taken off earlier. They were gone. Her mouth dried up and her pulse quickened.

  Had Andrés been in the bathroom while she showered? She glanced toward the door and discovered a dress hanging from it. Frowning, she slowly moved forward to touch the simple pink cotton dress, which was close to, if not exactly, her size. And then next to it, on the marbled countertop, she noticed the pale pink matching panty and bra set. This time, after checking the tags, she realized they were exactly her size.

  Her cheeks flushed and for a moment she was tempted to sit around all evening in the bath towel rather than put on the clothes Andrés had bought her. Then she realized he might return at any minute, and the idea of being caught with just a towel on spurred her into action. She changed into the underwear and dress quickly, every muscle in her body tense until she was once again clothed.

  Chloe left the steamy bathroom a moment later, pressing a hand nervously down the dress that clung to her breasts but had an empire waist, allowing the fabric to flow around the rest of her body. It would work well for the changes her figure would experience during pregnancy.

  She sighed and observed the rest of the room again.

  Lush and opulent, Andrés’ bedroom didn’t fail to impress. The bed itself was wide and raised off the ground to where she knew she’d have to put a little effort to climb onto it. On top of the mattress were oversized burgundy pillows and a luxurious gold and burgundy embroidered coverlet.

  A fireplace lay on the north side of the room, with oversized comfortable-looking chairs and a couch nearby.

  She strode to one of the windows and peered out at the view. Her stress faded a bit; she let out a sigh of pleasure, the ache in her heart easing. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved Spain.

  “Absolutely beautiful,” she murmured.

  In the fading light, the land stretched out in valleys of green, with patches of trees scattered about and a fence that weaved throughout. Off in the distance, she could just make out the ancient buildings of what looked like a medieval village.

  There were no other houses within view and she swallowed hard, wondering if everything she saw nearby was Andrés’ property. Excitement buzzed through her veins and she found herself itching to go beyond the house and explore.

  Then she remembered where she was and her situation, and backed away from the window. This was not a vacation. She’d been taken back to Spain against her will, and she’d best try to remember that.

  Chloe turned her attention to the structure of the room. The high ceilings and beams made her wonder what century the villa had been built in. It truly did have the feel of an old castle. She walked to the wall and ran her hand over the stone, a bit awed by the beauty of it all. They simply didn’t have places like this in America, let alone one that was the residence of a random person. But then, Andrés wasn’t just anybody.

  She grimaced at the reminder. Andrés was a powerful and wealthy man. She’d hit the nail on the head that first night when she’d asked him if he wasn’t used to hearing the word no. It was probably about as common for him as snow was in Los Angeles.

  But it wasn’t right. Andrés couldn’t just pluck her from her life and expect her to be okay with it. She still was in shock at his gall.

  And what really terrified her was that every moment she spent in his presence, she was reminded how potent he was, how he went to her head like a fancy bottle of champagne. It was quite clear how easily she could lose her
heart to him. She’d already come dangerously close when she’d been here just months ago.

  Closing her eyes, she pressed her head against the cool stone of the wall, letting out a soft groan. She was trapped in Spain. In Andrés’ house. In the clothes he’d bought for her. She was the puppet and Andrés the puppeteer. Her life wasn’t her own anymore.

  A sharp knock came on the door and she spun around, her pulse quickening.

  “Come in,” she called, not sure if the person was waiting for a response or not.

  The door opened and a man came in, carrying her food. He delivered the plate with a smile but made no attempt at conversation otherwise. A moment later he’d left.

  Alone again. Isolated and vulnerable, Chloe turned her attention to the plate. She wasn’t hungry, she told herself. But soon the smell of food made her mouth begin to water. With a small groan, she plucked the silver lid from the plate.

  Her eyes widened at the variety of temptation on it. There was chicken and rice, beans with ham, vegetables, and a glass of juice. Despite her protests of not being hungry, actually seeing the food made her realize how long it had been since she’d eaten.

  She lifted the plate onto her lap and took a bite of chicken. Her eyes closed as the spices and meat exploded in sensation on her tongue. Amazing.

  A half hour later, she was full and growing drowsy. The chair was so large and cushiony, she was able to curl up into it and lay her head on the arm.

  Despite the delicious meal still in her belly, she couldn’t help thinking about her future and just how dim it was. She replayed the events of the day and realized the magnitude of what had happened. Her fears rushed to the surface and suddenly it was too much. She wept silent tears that she didn’t bother to wipe away.

  Finally, limp with exhaustion, she let her eyes close. A few minutes later, she was asleep.

  Andrés made his way down the hall, loosening his tie and fighting back the fatigue from the last forty-eight hours.

  He hadn’t meant to leave Chloe alone for so long but had gotten stuck on a call to his London resort. He grimaced and wondered how strong her anger would be when he went into his room.

  Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and pushed the door open. His blood quickened and the muscles in his shoulders tensed when he did not immediately see her. But then his gaze landed on her form, curled up in one of the chairs and fast asleep.

  The tension eased from his body and a soft smile curled his mouth as he crossed the room to her. He tossed his tie over the couch then undid the first few buttons on his shirt.

  Reaching her chair, he stared down at her and discovered how deeply asleep she was. Her pink lips were parted and her expression peaceful, even though her cheeks were stained with tears.

  Guilt pricked lightly that he was the reason for causing them.

  He ruthlessly cut the softer emotion down and hardened his heart. He’d done what needed to be done to ensure the safety of his unborn child, seeing as Chloe had given him very little reason to trust her.

  Andrés leaned down to scoop her up, lifting her high into his arms. He carried her across the room to the bed; Chloe emitted a soft sigh as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  This time, when a twinge of tenderness hit him, he didn’t fight it. Reaching the bed, he lay her down and smiled at the image of her body stretched out in the lovely pink dress he’d brought. She should not sleep in the dress, though. The buttons in the back would prove a discomfort throughout the night.

  Though he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it, he set out to remove her clothing himself. A few minutes later he had her stripped down to the pink bra and panty set. She had barely stirred; only once to roll over to face him. For a moment her lashes had fluttered up and she’d stared at him. Her mouth curled into a sweet smile and she closed her eyes once more.

  Now, he couldn’t help but notice how her breasts strained against the pink lace of her bra and her legs stretched out from the tiny scrap of lace panties. His groin tightened and his blood hummed possessively at the sight of her. She looked all too natural in his bed, as if she’d always belonged here.

  He pushed a curl off her cheek and leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips. Soon he would have her again. But unfortunately, not tonight.

  After pulling the blanket to cover her, he straightened with reluctance and left her side, crossing to the bathroom to shower.

  Chloe awoke the next morning alone in bed. She sat up and glanced around, clutching the sheets to her as the memory of the last couple of days rushed through her head.

  Oh no. It was real. She bit her lip and whimpered. For a moment, she’d prayed that it had all just been a nightmare. That Andrés hadn’t swept into her life like a tornado, leaving nothing behind but chaos and destruction.

  But it wasn’t a dream. It was her new reality. And the fact that she was lying in just her underwear in Andrés’s bed in Spain proved it.

  She froze and then let out a sharp gasp. Underwear? How on earth had that happened? Goodness, she didn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone undressing.

  Had Andrés been the one to remove her clothing? Heat slid through her body at the possibility.

  A sharp knock came at the door, followed immediately by Andrés striding in. He appeared as handsome and intimidating as ever, dressed in another expensive black suit. Was he leaving for work?

  Her mouth dried when he approached the bed, his gaze sliding over her tousled hair and the sheet clutched to her chest. His lips curved in amusement, and she had to resist the impulse to throw a pillow at him to wipe the smirk from his face.

  “Good morning, Chloe,” he murmured, and moved to open the curtains on the far side of the room. “You should rise. The obstetrician is on her way to the villa as we speak.”

  Chloe blinked in dismay. “Excuse me?”

  “Your obstetrician. The doctor who will handle your pregnancy and deliver our baby.”

  “She’s coming here?” Chloe flailed out of bed, forgetting her state of undress until the heat in Andrés’s hooded eyes reminded her.

  Her nipples peaked from his masculine appreciation, while a slow ache gathered low in her belly. Oh, damn her treacherous body. She should not feel an ounce of attraction to this awful man right now.

  “Pregnancy agrees with you,” he murmured, catching her around the waist and halting her attempt to dart past him. “You are more beautiful than ever.”

  “Let me go, Andrés,” she pleaded. “I would at least like to put on some clothes.”

  “Why?” He gave a lazy shrug and traced a finger over the swell of her breast peeking above the lacy bra. “You will simply need to remove them again when she does the ultrasound.”

  Her breasts rose under his light touch and the ache in her body grew greater.

  “You sure don’t waste any time,” she accused, trying to hold on to the anger instead of the other emotion that threatened. “I haven’t even been in Spain for a day yet. Is it normal for you to have doctors at your beck and call?”

  “I promised you would be well taken care of, Chloe.” He arched a brow. “Surely you’re not surprised that I want to ensure the health of my baby.”

  “I’m not sure anything could surprise me at this rate,” she muttered and crossed the room to pluck a silk robe draped over the chair. She donned it and tied the belt fiercely around her waist. Turning, she glared at him. “You’re leaving for work, I hope?”

  His gaze grew hooded and he gave a slight nod. “Yes, once the ultrasound is complete.”

  Another knock came at the door. Still watching her, he called from the person to enter.

  The doctor came inside then, pushing a cart that held an ultrasound machine. She was a beautiful woman in her thirties whose face shone with admiration when she spotted Andrés. She introduced herself to Chloe as Dr. Flores, then turned back to Andrés and jumping into a conversation in Spanish.

  Chloe tried to follow along and was able to deduce the doctor was thanking Andrés pr
ofusely for a large donation to the clinic. Surprise slid through her. For all Andrés’s austerity, apparently he gave back to his community.

  Eventually Dr. Flores ushered Chloe back into bed to do the ultrasound. Her belly was smothered in a cool gel and the doctor moved the transducer over the barely noticeable swell of her abdomen.

  “Congratulations,” Dr. Flores said in thickly accented English and gestured to the screen. “There. You see? That is your baby. And if you look, you can see the heartbeat. The size and location appear normal…”

  Chloe stopped listening completely. Her heart twisted and emotion rocked her to the core as she stared at the tiny flicker on the bean-shaped image. The flicker that symbolized the steady beating heart of her baby. She was really going to become a mother.

  Tears of amazement thickened in her throat and she blinked rapidly.

  Her joy was cut brutally short when she caught sight of Andrés’ stoic profile. He nodded at whatever the doctor was saying, but his stare remained void of emotion. There was no happiness, no excitement, just the same expression he’d probably have if he were being briefed on the latest figures for his resorts.

  “Thank you, Doctor. I wish I could stay longer, but I’m afraid I’m needed at work,” he said flatly. Without even a glance down at her, he strode from the room.

  She went strangely numb and couldn’t even begin to answer whatever question the doctor was directing her way. Finally she swallowed. Once. And then again. But the bile wouldn’t be kept down.

  She struggled to sit up and muttered, “I’m sorry, but could we take a break? I think I might get sick.”

  Andrés buried himself in his work, ruthless in his daily dealings and driving his staff harder than he had in years. But he didn’t apologize or explain his actions, and no one would have expected him to.

  Now, halfway through the day, he unfortunately had to take a break to eat lunch. And it gave him just enough time to think about her. Chloe and the tiny baby growing within her womb.