Nicholas: A Corbett Brothers BWWM Billionaire Romance: The Corbett Billionaire Brothers

by Imani King

  …the fuck are we going through all this? he wondered for the millionth time that day. If he were to choose anything to do that day, aside from have roaring sex, it would be band practice. The next important tour was coming up, in America. It was going to be a big thing – biggest thing yet. Major arenas, heavily promoted. He pulled at his collar, the tie chafing his neck. It would have to be fucking incredible.

  The music is probably going to suck at this wedding. A string quartet? What is this, 1840? They should have asked Origin of Species. The band would’ve done a great job. He snickered to himself, imagining Nigel, the quintessential bad boy, jumping through the crowd with his guitar strapped around his neck, resplendent in his leather pants, and the shirt and tie he always ripped off to the roars of the crowd - then Colin bouncing after him, head banging.

  I’d like to see a string quartet top that.

  Wankers.

  His mind drifted back to the tour in the US. Will be good to get my hands on some American girls. They probably have special American ways of doing things. The corner of his mouth turned up in half-sneer, half-smile.

  He was just leaving the coolness of the castle, the heavy door closing behind him, when he heard a distinct American accent. It was a woman’s voice too. He had a strange moment where he wondered if he had managed to conjure up an American woman with his thoughts alone. Might’ve been the drugs still wearing off from the night before. He shook his head.

  “Excuse me, Sir, is this where the Earl’s wedding is being held?”

  “Who wants to know?” It was gruff, sure - but who the fuck walks into a castle and says something like that? Only – and definitely – an American. He’d know in a bloody second, even if he couldn’t hear the accent. Still, he liked Americans. They had managed to pull their heads out of their asses for the most part.

  “I’m terribly sorry to bother you but we are the string quartet, and we are supposed to play here today as a warm-up for the wedding tomorrow.” This last came from a woman’s voice in the back.

  “Ah yes the string quartet,” he said, barely able to keep the derision from his voice. “I’m sure you can set up wherever you like. But you should probably check with someone else. Someone who’s involved in the organization of this ridiculous wedding.” He went to turn away when he suddenly met the eye of the women who spoke last. She was young, curvaceous, with rich mocha skin, dark eyes that flashed, full lips perfect for... His cock strained against his pants, just upon seeing her.

  What was he, fifteen, for crying out loud?

  He had thought he was too jaded for that.

  He dismissed the thought that came to his mind unbidden: he wanted to bury his face in her chest. Inhale her scent. Taste her earlobe, rest in the soft skin at her neck. Push his fingers between her legs and feel her softness. Usually his fantasies were much darker. He ran his hand through his hair, took a last lingering look at her, and reluctantly but decidedly turned on his heel.

  “Best of luck,” he threw over his shoulder. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”

  He didn’t know why he added that last bit. What did he care?

  Her lips.

  More Reckless Love

  AND

  The Sweet and Sexy

  The Billionaire Baby Doctor

  Chapter 1

  He took me in his arms, hands slipping around my waist, and bent a little over my rounded belly to whisper in my ear. “God I want you, Teagen…” His voice was low, sexy, almost growling with desire, thrumming in my ears. “I’ve never seen you look so beautiful.”

  My cheeks grew hot. “You’re just saying that.”

  His sky blue eyes flashed stormy. “Not at all. The way your skin glows, the fullness of your breasts, your belly,” he paused as he kissed me, lips trailing from my neck to my cheek, my cheek to my mouth. The flame grew inside me as his tongue met mine, each touch a need, a desire, and a desire quenched, only to build more. My breath quickened as his lips slipped down to my collarbone, to my newly generous cleavage. My nipples pebbled under his touch.

  “Oh Christopher,” I breathed. “You’re making me crazy.”

  “Not half as crazy as you’re making me,” he said, slipping one hand around my ass cheek, and pressing me into his hard length. He began to pull down the fabric around my neckline, teasing my skin with his silky lips.

  It makes me think back to how this all started… and how unlikely it all was.

  Chapter 2

  Dr. Marcus Finnegan, the old, kindly doctor I’d seen for years, looked at me sympathetically. After knowing me for so long, I was sure it was difficult for him to tell me anything bad.

  “I am sorry, dear,” he said, “to be the one to say this, but I am afraid it is possible that you likely won’t be able to have children. We don’t advise infertility treatments for single women, in general, as they aren’t covered under insurance for one. Especially at your age. You’re a young thing! And when the time comes, you can always adopt. You never know what life will throw at you. Maybe you’ll marry someone with a whole slew of kids.”

  He patted my hand, but to no avail. The message hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t have a clue what to say, especially since my throat seemed to be closing up with held-back tears. “I understand, Dr. Finnegan,” I said. “Thank you for your kindness.” This last came out a bit choked.

  “I’ll leave you be, dear,” he said, standing up. “You take the room for as long as you want. We can use the other examination room while you collect yourself.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I burbled, grabbing my things, and stuffing them in my purse. Everything was growing blurry as my eyes were filling with tears. I don’t know why it’s so important for me to have a baby now.

  Yes I do.

  When my little sister passed away, I knew that my first priority was going to be to fill my household as soon as possible with the sound of giggling, shouting, running, stamping – even crying. The kind of crying you do when you skin your knee, or drop your ice cream cone. Not the silent tears you try to hold back in front of your other daughter. No, I wanted a household that was like we had until she was seven. Happy, loud. Not the mausoleum it turned into. My mother, Shandra, was devastated. Of course. Losing a child must be the most difficult thing in the world. But sometimes, the grief of the parents is like a pall that fills the entire household, and the surviving children get buried under that weight. This was something I knew all too well.

  “Teagen,” my mother would say, from the couch, hand draped across her forehead. “Please, I have a headache. Don’t make so much noise. Not today, honey.” Some days I would skulk away to my room, trying not to pout, trying not to be angry at my poor sister. Other times I would lay next to her and watch the faraway look in her eyes, cuddling and hoping for a squeeze or a hug. Instead I’d wipe away a tear. Hers, or my own.

  And I knew if I did have a kid, my mother would be so happy to hear that laughter too. We both had so much love to give.

  All this was flashing through my mind as I pulled my bag over my shoulder and followed the doctor out of the room, still trying to keep my composure, trying to stay as strong as I have always had to be. Always wanted to be. The doctor knocked and entered another room, and I was making my way to the door, when the receptionist called me back.

  “Teagen,” she nearly stage-whispered, beckoning with her hand.

  “Yes, Natasha?” I approached the desk hesitantly.

  “You’re a nurse, right?” She picked up a card. “I’ve been asked to pass this out if I see anyone who might be right some work at a doctor’s office. He’s an OB-GYN, and he’s fantastic. Beautiful grounds, I understand, very posh. But all signs point to him being a great guy. And I never said this, but he’s gorgeous as well. You should go over for an interview.”

  Hmm. Well, if I can’t have a baby, at least I can be around them. Help them come into being. And besides, it beats working at the office I work in now.

  “Thanks Natasha,” I said, putting
the card in my pocket. “Wonderful of you to think of me.”

  Chapter 3

  I spent a couple of days vacillating between calling this doctor and not calling him.

  “You have nothing to lose,” said Maia, my friend and roommate of two years. “You might as well just call?” She wrinkled her nose in a sympathetic way.

  “I know. But will they be interested in me? Will it hurt too much to work there? Considering I am so desperate to have kids when I don’t even have a husband yet?”

  “Your doctor is like, a hundred years old, he’s not going to be in favor of you having kids right now!” She laughed and poured another glass of Pinot. “But this guy sounds a lot younger, a lot more approachable. A lot hotter, too, by the sounds of things. You should go meet him.”

  “What does that matter?” I said, handing her my glass with a decided motion. “I just want to get a better job and have a baby some day, I don’t care if he’s green and has three heads.” “Wait – you don’t care if the baby has three heads?” She laughed. “Maybe you need to think this through, girl.”

  “Nah, the doc!” I swatted her with the pillow. “Though it’s true, he is a fox. Do you want to see him?” I gestured to my laptop, which I had been using to research him.

  “Thought you’d never ask!” She scooched beside me and sat down, eyes sparkling. “Let’s see the hot baby doctor!”

  I opened my browser and immediately his page popped up. Lots of medical stuff, but in the center was a picture of Dr. Christopher Fox. His eyes were a penetrating blue, his dark hair pushed back from his face contrasting with a crisp white coat.

  “Oooh,” said Maia. “Now that is a Dr. Fox!” She whistled low.

  “I know – but look at this. It says he has a really high success rate. I’ve been researching it and nobody can touch him. I could never afford treatments, but if I worked there…”

  “You should get him to inseminate you,” she said, half-joking, but half-seriously. “Those would be some awfully cute babies!”

  “Well if it were that easy!”

  “So why isn’t it?” Maia looked quizzical. “Well I guess they’re not sure. A blockage, maybe due to scar tissue,” I said. “Or it could be hormonal. Regular doctors don’t have access to this kind of equipment. Or Insurance doesn’t bother with funding it.”

  “Well looks like Dr. Fox has all the equipment you could ever need,” Maia grinned, raising her eyebrows up and down.

  I bopped her with the couch cushion. “Oh hush now! “ We collapsed in giggles. But inwardly I have to admit that this doctor was tempting, and not only because of his magical abilities with baby-making. A girl could get lost in those eyes, and never find her way out again.

  Chapter 4

  When I woke up the next morning, I was resolute. I was going to call this doctor. Good looking or no, that didn’t matter. I might be able to get a job, and who knows, maybe even a baby, as I always wanted! I nearly bounced down the stairs, truly happy for the first time in a while. Hope is a wonderful thing. I pictured my little girl (or it could be a boy, it didn’t matter – as long as it was a baby) in her high chair, waiting for her bottle. Looking adorable with her sweet eyes and fat cheeks. Or maybe a few years later, a boy running around in swim trunks, water wings flaring his spindly arms.

  The smell of the freshly brewing coffee hit my nostrils and I breathed in happily. I could picture the boy running up to me, calling for a popsicle, looking at me with his big blue eyes – wait . Blue eyes. My hand flew to my mouth.

  They were the blue eyes of Dr. Fox, not my big baby browns. I shook my head, trying to dispel the silly visions. But I had to admit, they were beautiful.

  Chapter 5

  The phone rang.

  “It’s Natasha? From Dr. Finnegan’s office? We spoke the other day?”

  “Ah yes, Natasha! How are you?”

  “I’m good. Look I just wanted to see how you are doing with that information I gave you. Have you made any decisions about moving forward?”

  “Well nothing firm, but I am definitely interested.” “I’m glad to hear that because their office just called and they asked me if I could recommend someone to interview. Only thing is, is – it’s this afternoon.”

  “I see.” Racing over to my calendar, I whipped it open. Scanning it. There was nothing I couldn’t move. “I can set it up for you if you can make the appointment.” I could hear her concern over the phone. “I’d love for you to get this job!” “Book it,” I said, the words flying out of my mouth as if they had a will of their own. I could hear her smile over the phone lines.

  “Sounds good, Teagen. 2:45 today…” As she rattled on, with directions and things to bring and ask, my mind was racing. Would it be possible? Could I possibly have a baby? I had everything else I needed in life. A decent job if not perfect, a house that I was paying off. If I could some day have a baby too, my life would be complete. A small voice piped up from the back of my mind, but I pushed it away. What about a man, Teagen? Don’t you want a man?

  Who needs a man when you have a great roommate and a baby?

  More The Billionaire Baby Doctor

  AND

  The Romantic First Act for the Billionaire

  About the Author

  Imani King is a small town girl with a big imagination. She nurtures a passion for yoga and can often be found in the studio when she's not writing.

  In her fantasies, she and her billionaire Mr. Right travel the world, exploring different cultures (and each other!). These daydreams are the inspiration for her sizzling stories, so what are you waiting for? Give one of them a try, and let her know what you think.

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  To keep up with Imani, check out:

  Imani King

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