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

by Shelli Stevens

When he lifted his head, she forced a steadying breath and lifted her chin. Even if this wasn’t her choice, she was going to throw everything she had into their marriage. Because though Andrés refused to love her—and had viciously promised never to—she knew she had to try and make their marriage work. For her sanity and the sake of the baby.

  There was good in Andrés; she’d seen the gentle and compassionate side of him. And up until he’d assumed the worst about her on the beach, she’d had hope things might turn out okay. Even now, despite the circumstances, her hope was not dead. She knew Andrés didn’t trust easily. That he was still that hurt, betrayed child who believed no one had loved him.

  Andrés had placed an arm around her waist, ushering her outside into the fall sunshine.

  “You’ll forgive me if we don’t spend our wedding night here in Gibraltar, Mrs. Montero,” he said, his tone mocking.

  Mrs. Montero. A shiver ran down Chloe’s spine. She was officially married to Andrés. There was a legal bond now that made it much harder to simply walk away. Perhaps that was his intention in marrying her.

  “Where are we going?” she asked cautiously. “Back to your villa? Don’t you have business in London?”

  Andrés’s mouth tightened. “No, I had to postpone it so we could come here.”

  “Why did we come here?” They crossed the road to where another sleek black limo awaited them. “Why travel to Gibraltar to get married, only to turn around and leave right away?”

  “So that we could be wed immediately,” he said calmly, helping her into the vehicle. “The waiting period for a marriage license is considerably shorter here.”

  The hired driver closed the door after Andrés slid in. “We’re flying to Paris soon.”

  Andrés intended to take her to Paris? Perhaps he wanted a honeymoon of sorts? She bit back a disbelieving laugh. Not likely.

  “There is a charity ball tomorrow night that I am scheduled to attend.” He bared his teeth in a hard smile. “What a perfect opportunity to introduce the paparazzi to my new wife, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Chloe slumped back against the seat, her mouth parting in dismay. The paparazzi. Jeez, how could she have forgotten that part of Andrés’s life? She was going to be scrutinized under a microscope and, unfortunately, she feared they would tear her apart.

  Andrés stared at Chloe, surprised to discover that the reality of being married did not make him feel as trapped as he’d expected. Instead, there was a surprising amount of relief. Chloe was his wife, and at this moment it took all his power to resist dragging her onto his lap and lifting that delicate dress around her hips to make love to her.

  But the anger from yesterday still burned in his gut, the sense of betrayal smoldering his soul. He couldn’t erase the image of her in another man’s arms. Beyond the anger and betrayal, there was also something raw and fierce. Screaming silently. An emotion that he recognized from his childhood. An emotion he had never wanted to experience again—had thought he’d protected himself against.

  But even still, his body and mind wanted Chloe with a thirst that was unquenchable. And now she was his wife, to touch and take whenever he desired. He observed her through hooded eyes. She wouldn’t stop him, not even if he chose to take her in the back of the limo. She seemed to need his touch almost as much as he needed hers. Even now she fidgeted with the ring he’d meticulously picked out for her, sliding glances his way when she thought he wasn’t watching.

  But he wouldn’t touch her. Not yet. He needed to prove to himself and to her that he still had a bit of self-control left. No woman should be able to wind him up inside in such a way. Cristos, but it was almost as if his every thought was about her.

  Andrés turned to stare out the window at the landscape of Gibraltar as the car made its way back to the airfield. It hadn’t been that much of an inconvenience to fly them here, and it had been worth it to expedite the wedding.

  Chloe had been surprisingly quiet. What was she thinking at this moment? Likely she resented him for forcing her into a loveless marriage.

  He pushed aside the first small sting of guilt, telling himself that her ideals of love were naïve and not pragmatic. That not everyone had the same romance her parents had found.

  He closed his eyes and stretched out his legs in front of him.

  It might take a bit of time, but Chloe would come around. His gut clenched. What if she didn’t, though?

  He mentally shook off the small seed of doubt and hardened his jaw. She would. What other choice did she have?

  Chloe stood near the window of the penthouse suite, staring out over the Eiffel Tower that lit the nighttime sky.

  Her lips curled into a wistful smile that unfortunately her heart couldn’t begin to match. How many times had she dreamed about coming to Paris? Of seeing the Eiffel Tower and touring the sites of the city?

  And now she was here. Only it was because of Andrés’s work, and the city that was famous for its romance was anything but for her. She slid her hand to her belly, the ache in her heart easing as she thought of the baby.

  The swell of her pregnancy was somewhat hidden by the dark green gown Andrés had provided for tonight’s event. The strapless dress was stunning with a ruched bodice and intricate beading just above the waist, falling in layers of chiffon down to her ankles. With her hair swept up into a chignon and dramatic makeup, she felt every bit the wealthy tycoon’s wife.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Chloe stiffened, not having heard Andrés’ silent approach, but his image reflected in the window as he came close behind her. Without turning around, she drank his reflection in and her pulse quickened at how breathtakingly handsome and imposing he looked in his black tuxedo.

  Andrés lightly traced the back of her neck with strong fingers. Her knees weakened and heat slid through her. Her lower lip started to quiver so she drew it between her teeth.

  It had been days since he’d touched her; she ached for his touch. Physically and emotionally.

  For one swift moment she considered turning in his embrace, begging him to forget the ball and stay instead to make love to her. Let them rediscover the passion that now seemed extinct on his part.

  Her throat tightened with a new troubling thought. Perhaps now that he’d secured her as his wife, he would take a mistress on the side. Having a mistress wasn’t uncommon for men of power and wealth, but the idea that Andrés might have one while married to her had her stomach in knots and her heart aching miserably.

  The cold slither of something around her neck made her blink in dismay. She stared down at the emerald necklace Andrés had fastened around her neck.

  “What’s this for?” she asked huskily, momentarily captivated by the beauty and magnificence of the necklace.

  “Consider it a wedding gift.” He latched the necklace into place and then cupped her shoulders, turning her around to face him. His gaze burned with possessiveness as it lingered on the large green stone surrounded by glittering diamonds that nestled just above the swells of her breasts.

  Her breathing hitched and she shook her head slightly, the realization sinking in that her necklace could easily have cost the price of a luxury car. “I couldn’t possibly…”

  “You will, Chloe. You are my wife now,” he said brusquely, his thumbs tracing circles on her naked shoulders. “It is expected for you to appear the part.”

  Appear the part. She swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with her new life, but it was difficult. The lifestyle being thrust upon her had never even been a fantasy for her. She was a waitress and until recently, a magazine columnist from Seattle. She lived paycheck to paycheck. Her only fantasy, maybe, had been to fall in love.

  A lump formed in her throat and she closed her eyes against the sting of tears. Oh, she’d fallen in love, all right, but it just wasn’t quite as wonderful when the man you loved didn’t return the emotion.

  Andrés slid his hand to her elbow. “Come, Chloe. The limo is downstairs.”

  He hadn
’t called her cariño in days, she realized. A moment’s panic hit. Would he ever touch her again intimately? Had she just become his wife and the mother of his child, legally bound but emotionally distanced?

  They stepped out of Andrés’s hotel and into the waiting limo. The drive to the ball was made in silence. Andrés studied a file she hadn’t noticed him carrying earlier.

  Her palms dampened and her pulse raced as the limo glided through the bright lights of Paris. She’d been warned about the paparazzi but knew nothing would be able to prepare her for an actual encounter.

  When the limo pulled to a stop out front of another luxury hotel, her hands actually began to shake, worsening when she spotted the crowd full of photographers.

  Andrés set down the file and glanced up at her. He must have sensed her nervousness, because his expression softened and he reached for her hand. With a light squeeze, he asked, “Ready?”

  Some of her anxiety faded, just from his reassuring touch. It irked that she was so easily calmed by him. Lifting her chin, she gave him a brilliant smile. She would fake confidence even if it killed her. “Of course,” she lied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Surprise and maybe a bit of admiration flickered in his eyes. He gave a slight nod.

  Cameras flashed when the chauffer opened the door to the limo. Andrés’s expression again became unreadable, and he climbed out of the vehicle.

  He reached a hand toward her and leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.

  “And please, at least try to pretend that you’re in love with me, Chloe.”

  Pretend? Right. She bit back a miserable, high-pitched giggle and allowed herself to be helped from the limo.

  Andrés watched Chloe carefully as cameras flashed in an explosion of lights all around them. Despite her confident assurance that she was comfortable with facing the paparazzi, he’d seen her hands shaking in the limo. And now, the hint of panic flickering on her face as she stepped from the limo. He tightened his hand around hers and was rewarded by her hesitant smile.

  She was lovely. Pride and desire rushed through him at how beautiful and poised Chloe appeared as she moved to his side. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling their bodies flush together so they could turn to face the paparazzi.

  “Señor Montero, how is the hotel business?”

  “Who is the new woman, Andrés?”

  “Is it true that you were married recently, Andrés? Is this your wife?”

  Questions were shot at them in rapid fire, spoken in various languages as flashes from cameras continued to explode.

  Andrés lifted his hand to garner silence. Answering in English, he replied. “I would like to introduce you to Chloe Wilkinson, or as of yesterday, Chloe Montero—my wife.”

  More questions followed, even more urgent and excited, and the camera flashes doubled in intensity. He glanced down at Chloe; another surge of pride hit his blood at her mesmerizing smile.

  Her gaze lifted to his and a surprising tenderness, paired with respect, flickered in her eyes. For a moment it was just the two of them, and the air nearly sizzled with intensity and emotion.

  His blood fired and his breath caught, while his heart pinched a bit. Oh, how he wanted her. When he’d first seen her in the hotel suite, he’d been sorely tempted to cancel tonight’s appearance and carry her off to bed.

  And now, after having not touched her since their kiss in the courthouse at the end of their marital vows, he wanted her more than he could ever remember.

  Knowing Chloe would assume it was just for the paparazzi, he caught her chin in his hand and lowered his mouth to take hers. Needing to taste the sweetness of her, if even just briefly.

  Her palms moved to his chest and she gave a small moan of pleasure. Her body molded to him as her lips parted beneath his, and the tiny thread of control he maintained threatened to snap. Before he could give the paparazzi a most interesting story, he lifted his mouth from Chloe’s.

  Her cry of protest was quiet enough for his ears only as she clutched the lapels of his tuxedo. When her eyes opened and she stared up at him, there was emotion so soft and intimate, with a hint of shyness, that he silently applauded her acting abilities on convincing the media they were in love. And for the briefest moment, he didn’t want it to be an act. But he refused to dwell on the unsettling realization.

  “Thank you,” he called gruffly to the paparazzi. “Enough questions for now, I think.”

  Moving a hand to the small of Chloe’s back, he guided her through the doors of the hotel to where the ball was already in session.

  “You handled that quite well,” Andrés murmured.

  Chloe wasn’t able to hold back the disbelieving laugh. It was amazing that she hadn’t fainted on the black carpet rolled out for the guests.

  And then the way Andrés had kissed her in front of all the photographers… Her cheeks burned with the memory. She’d completely forgotten where she was and who was watching. All that had mattered was having him touching her again and being in his arms. A seed of hope had bloomed inside her with the way he’d kissed her. That maybe Andrés wasn’t putting on a show. That maybe he missed her, wanted her as much as she did him.

  But hope faded when he switched easily back into business mode. She was smart enough to realize his kiss hadn’t been emotionally driven. It had been a calculated move to convince the paparazzi that they were madly in love.

  She ran her palm over her stomach, reassured by the thought of their baby snuggled in her womb, and ran her gaze absently around the crowded room. Everywhere she looked, slender women wore expensive designer dresses and sparkled with jewels. The men looked dapper in their black tuxes. Overall, the crowd screamed of wealth and exclusivity.

  As a waiter walked by a tray of champagne, she bit back a groan, wishing she could have a glass to settle her nerves.

  “Andrés!”

  Chloe took an unconscious step back as a red-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes sashayed over to him, but Andrés’ grip around her waist tightened.

  “Danielle, how are you?” he murmured with a welcoming smile and kissed the woman’s smooth cheeks.

  Jealousy slid through Chloe’s blood; she snapped her teeth together. Was this just another one of Andrés’ women? She curled her hands into fists to control her emotions, to keep a pleasant smile on her face, until the effort had her nearly piercing the skin of her palms with her nails.

  “Danielle, may I introduce my wife, Chloe,” Andrés tone was lazy with amusement.

  “No,” the woman gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “Andrés, you are married? Impossible!”

  Chloe flushed, humiliation causing her cheeks to further heat. This just wasn’t right, having to attend a ball where she would doubtless meet countless past, or perhaps even present, lovers of her husband.

  But as the woman’s gaze slid to hers, Chloe saw only curiosity and shock in her eyes.

  “Chloe, may I introduce you to Danielle? I was best man to her husband at their wedding.”

  Chloe went weak with relief that the other woman was not, and likely never had been, Andrés’s lover.

  “Wonderful to meet you,” Danielle said warmly, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze. “I must say, I’m delighted to see Andrés has finally found the woman who stole his heart.”

  Stole his heart? Chloe forced a responding smile, though inside she flinched. That would probably be the only way she would ever have Andrés’s love, since he didn’t believe in it. And as of a few days ago, the only emotion he seemed to have for her was disdain.

  “If you will excuse us, Danielle, I would like to introduce my wife to a few other guests.” Andrés leaned down to kiss the woman’s cheek again. “Should your scoundrel of a husband comes around, do send him my way.”

  “I’m sure he’ll find you soon enough,” Danielle said with a dry smile. “Enjoy yourself, Chloe. Perhaps we could have a drink later.”

  Having found herself a likely friend, Chloe latched onto the woman’s offe
r eagerly. “I would love that.”

  As Andrés led her away from the other woman, Chloe bit back a sigh. She didn’t want this to be a charade. A pretense. Andrés was her husband now and she truly did want to make this marriage work.

  “Andrés,” she began warily. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’ve agreed to this marriage and I only want to look toward the future.” She bit her lip, deciding to take the risk and confess, “Besides, I think you know how I feel about you.”

  Andrés’ lips tightened. “Sí, I know exactly how you feel, and it is something we both will have to simply tolerate.”

  She flinched, trying to find a way to breathe past the breath locked in her chest. Her heart twisted painfully. So Andrés had guessed she loved him, then? And obviously the idea was not a welcome one.

  But then, why should she have expected anything less? It must be a huge emotional weight to be loved by someone when you couldn’t love the person back.

  Chapter 10

  Andrés force his expression to remain neutral, and as a waiter approached them he accepted a glass of champagne and requested sparkling water for Chloe. His mood had turned significantly dark since Chloe had reminded him of her feelings toward him.

  He knew without a doubt that she wanted him physically and that her body welcomed, even craved his touch. But emotionally, Chloe loathed him for forcing her into marriage. At their wedding she’d appeared almost sickened by what was happening.

  Giving a strained smile, Chloe accepted the sparkling water from the waiter who approached. Andrés’ gaze narrowed as he noticed the slight unsteadiness of her hand. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought her out to a society event so soon.

  “Come,” he murmured gently, placing his hand against the small of her back. “There are still many people to meet.”

  After they’d made their rounds through the massive room, Andrés was amazed at Chloe for her poise and charm. With each introduction, she’d captivated his friends and business associates alike.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, moving them away from another lavishly dressed couple.