Quadruplets for the Billionaire (Babies for the Billionaire Book 2)

by Ana Sparks

  “It’s almost time, Miss Calhoun. Just sit tight,” one of the nurses assured her. Her eyes widened in a blind panic, and she made an effort to sit up. I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, cooing softly into her ear.

  “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be fine, the babies will be fine. This is the moment we’ve waited so long for,” I whispered. She nodded jerkily, gripping my hand tightly enough that it felt as if the bones might crack. “Just try to relax. Lie back and think of the good times we’ve had these past few months,” I said soothingly. Ashley made a valiant effort, eyes fluttering shut as she exhaled deeply.

  “I hope they like the nursery. Green is a nice color, isn’t it?” she asked, obviously forcing her voice to remain level. I could only smile fondly at how hard she was trying to stay composed.

  “Gender neutral as well,” I replied, glancing up as an entourage of doctors and nurses stepped into the room.

  Ashley’s eyes shot open, and she inhaled a shuddering breath as the group began to crowd around the bed. The nurses busied themselves with thoroughly preparing the area where the incision would be made, the doctor accounting for each individual tool he needed. I wasn’t the only one to notice that Ashley was getting a bit green around the gills.

  “Oh, honey, with the epidural you won’t feel a thing,” a nurse assured her. Ashley hummed her acknowledgement, watching as they sterilized a large area of her lower stomach. Before we knew it, the time had come for the procedure to begin.

  One by one, the doctor carefully extracted four healthy-looking babies from my lover’s belly. Ashley caught her breath and watched with bleary-eyed fascination as each of the babies was lifted into view. With each infant delivered, the doctor announced the genders in a booming voice.

  In what felt like the blink of an eye, everything was finished. Ashley had successfully delivered our four perfect children: three girls and a boy. She looked utterly exhausted, but before she lost consciousness altogether, I asked her about names.

  We’d known we were having four children, but somehow we hadn’t really discussed names. We’d been sure that the right thing would strike us when we saw our children for the first time.

  “The boy, his name is Jeffrey,” Ashley managed, looking at me with tears in her eyes. I felt my own eyes grow moist—we had truly honored my brother.

  We gave the girls names starting with Js as well: Jennifer, Jessica, and Julia. The doctors allowed us a brief moment to embrace with our children, but Ashley was soon lost to the world. Concern must have been obvious in my gaze, as the doctor clapped a hand on my shoulder.

  “She just needs some rest, son. Don’t you have some happy grandmothers waiting to meet these little ones?” the man asked with a smile.

  I nodded, and before I knew it, my mother was clinging to Jeffrey and choking out sobs while Ashley’s mother fretted over the little girls. I watched the scene tears in my eyes, feeling for once like my family was actually whole again.

  Slumping into the chair beside the hospital bed, I gripped Ashley’s hand in my own as our mothers cooed over their grandchildren. I glanced toward my princess, noting that she seemed to be watching peacefully. I hadn’t realized she’d woken back up, but tears of joy were running down her cheeks.

  “We did it, Jensen. We actually did it. You think your dad would be proud?” she asked gently, and my heart clenched in my chest.

  “He would be thrilled, honey,” my mother said, answering for me. “Not only did Jensen carry on the family name, he found true love in the process. I can’t imagine his father could be any happier.”

  “Now you rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day,” Ashley’s mother said softly. Ashley looked as if she might argue for a moment, but soon she nodded her head and allowed her eyes to close again.

  “I love you, Jensen,” she whispered, tightening her grip on my hand for a moment before she began to drift off.

  “Oh, Ashley. I love you too. And I’ll spend the rest of my days being there for you,” I vowed.

  I had never been more certain of anything in my life.

  What will the next year hold for Ashley and Jensen?

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  Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir

  Layla Valentine & Ana Sparks

  Next up, as promised, is a special teaser of mine and Layla’s recent book, Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir

  Happy reading!

  Copyright 2017 by Layla Valentine and Ana Sparks

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author. All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Antonio

  Sunlight blared through the curtains and I grimaced as I rolled over onto my stomach. A wave of nausea washed through my body as I burrowed into the warm and inviting blankets, every fiber of my being wishing morning hadn’t yet arrived. My muscles ached and I had a pounding migraine, but I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the events of the night before.

  I had spent the previous night on a friend’s yacht, enjoying one of the best parties I could have asked for with my pick of the social elite. Booze had flowed freely among us, with the women as plentiful and beautiful as the flowers on the Italian hillside. It had been a gathering fit for royalty.

  And royalty I was.

  I was Prince Antonio di Maggio, and my parents were the King and Queen of the Kingdom of San Paluzzi, one of wealthiest micronations in the world. Tucked within Italy and filled with only the crème de la crème of European society, this was the place anyone who dreamed of success hoped to land. Luxurious houses dotted the landscape and gated communities were the norm. It was the one place on the planet that I would consider absolute paradise—and one day it was all going to be mine.

  Right now, Mother and Father did all of the work, tending to the major decisions and ensuring the lasting prosperity of all who were a part of the community, and I respected them for it. I hoped one day I might be able to rise to the same level of greatness they had, and show not only San Paluzzi but the entire world that I was an effective leader.

  But, in the meantime, I was going to enjoy my youth as much as possible. Of course, this meant I was going to spend my nights at the latest party, flirting with only the prettiest women, then sleep off the effects of the night before in the pampering luxury of my family’s yacht. Life couldn’t have been going any better for me, and I was certain nothing was ever going to change.

  A knock at the door roused me from my dozing state, and I looked over my shoulder with a groan. I couldn’t see what time it was with my phone lying face down on my night stand and the room still too dim to make out the hands on the clock which hung on the opposite wall. When the knock persisted, I groggily answered in my most annoyed voice.

  The door opened and my butler walked in. I knew it was him, but I still acted surprised that he would dare to bother me so early in the morning. At least, I assumed it was early—it was hard to know for sure with the light blinding me and my headache making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

  I allowed my head to fall heavily back on the pillow, doing my best to show him how disinterested I was in any business he brought to me.

  “What do you want, Moretti?” I snapped.

  “I’ve a message for you, Prince Antonio. It came directly from the King.”

  He stood holding a piece of paper in his hand, and I lifted my head once more in surprise. It was rare for my father to pay any
extra attention to me these days. It was my duty to show up to the parties, meetings, and dinners he told me to show up for, and that was about it. If there was anything of any importance, it was discussed then.

  “What does it say?” I asked, the concern in my voice masked with disinterest and distance.

  “They are summoning you to the palace immediately,” Moretti replied flatly. I could hear how unimpressed he was with the way I was treating the situation, but I really didn’t care. It wasn’t up to him to judge how I ran my life.

  “How immediately is immediately?” I asked sarcastically. I knew what he—and they—wanted, but I embraced my princely rights and knew I was going to run the day on my own clock as I always did. I would have appreciated him bringing me breakfast along with the note, and I wasn’t going to make his job any easier than it needed to be.

  “You know how his majesty feels about being kept waiting. Her majesty, too. They sent this early this morning in the hope that you would be there in time for breakfast—which, as you know—is eight o’clock sharp.” He spoke with an air of loftiness and I felt anger burn in my chest.

  “You mean it’s not even eight yet?! How dare you wake me this early! I have a splitting headache, my body hurts, and I feel sick—I have half a mind to tell you to get out until lunch, Moretti!” I snapped with as much passion as I could muster, but there was little change in his expression.

  He walked over to the window and threw open the curtains, causing light to flood into the room. I, of course, grabbed the pillow and flung it over my eyes, swearing at the man for his incompetence. Moretti, by contrast, seemed entirely untouched by my disdain.

  “My apologies, but my orders do come from the King, and he directed me to get this to you as soon as possible. I know it’s…inconvenient, but my hands were tied.” He left the note on the nightstand next to me and walked back to the door. “I’ll have the limo ready and waiting for you, sir,” he said as he grabbed the handle and closed me inside my room once more.

  I groaned as I reached out and took the note from my father. Moretti was right—it was a summons, and nothing more. He and my mother wished for me to appear and dine with them for breakfast—within the hour.

  Sure, I could get there on time if I were to hurry, but feeling like I was, hurrying was the last thing I was planning to do. I didn’t feel well, and I had no intention of doing anything that made me feel worse. After lying in bed a few minutes longer, I finally rose and made my way to the bathroom.

  I took a long shower and groomed my beard carefully, admiring myself in the mirror the entire time. Yes, I knew I was conceited, but I had every right to be. My arms were muscular and my stomach tightly toned, boasting a six pack and chiseled obliques. My dark tattoos that snaked down each bicep and onto my forearms only added to the elusive and mysterious look I was so proud of.

  I grabbed a comb and yanked it through my jet-black hair. Though I was 29 years old, I had the body of someone who was closer to 24. My hair was thick and soft, my body hard as a rock. I was irresistible to women, and I knew it. I pulled on my tight, ripped jeans and a T-shirt that showed every muscle on my torso and headed toward the door.

  I didn’t bother looking at the clock—I would get there when I got there, and Mother and Father were just going to have to deal with it. I climbed into the back of the limo and the driver started off in a shot. He, like Moretti, was more concerned with the King and Queen’s wishes than mine, and I was more than happy to let them be the ones to worry.

  I turned my attention out the window, wondering what I possibly could have done that would warrant such an order from Father. It seemed he was always upset about something, and I could only imagine what it was this time. I knew I wasn’t living up to their expectations, but I was young and I deserved to have a good time. I’d seen what the throne did to them, and I wasn’t at all eager to see that happen to me.

  We pulled up to the palace and I cracked my knuckles. I wanted everyone to think that I was far from nervous, but in reality, I could feel a knot in the base of my stomach. Some of it was the hangover, I knew, but most of it was not wanting to hear what my parents had to say. The limo stopped in front of the doors and I got out.

  “Better get this over with,” I muttered as I walked up the marble staircase. The butler opened the door for me, but I was too irritated to acknowledge him. The man tried to show me into the dining hall, but I pushed past him and let myself in.

  “Antonio!” my father roared as soon as he saw me. Breakfast had been served and he and Mother had eaten already. Mine was sitting in its place, cold and clearly neglected.

  “Father! I apologize for the delay—I received the word while I was still in bed and I didn’t want to come in without looking decent.” I did my best to give both my parents a charming smile, but I could see by the look in my father’s eyes that he was far from amused. He held in his hand a rolled-up magazine, and I did my best to see what it was before he spoke.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

  “What is this garbage?!” my father roared as he slapped the magazine down on the table.

  I glanced down at it and immediately knew what it was. One of the more notorious tabloids had taken one of my recent escapades and turned it into a scandalous tale, then they had promptly published it on the front page of each copy they produced that month. The story spread like wildfire, but—of course—it was in a tabloid so there was a lot of debate about the truth in those pages.

  “I thought you were above reading such filth,” I said coyly, doing my best to keep the situation in my favor. Mother chuckled and shook her head, but I could sense she was more disappointed in me than she was in Father reading such gossip.

  “Shut up and listen to me! I’ll have none of your attitude this time—this has been going on long enough, and it’s high time your mother and I stepped in and did something about it!” Father spoke with great passion in his voice, and I couldn’t help but cringe at his tone. I picked up the magazine and flipped through it, pretending this was the first time I had heard anything about it.

  “Come on, Father, you can’t think that there’s any truth to this!” I cried as I held up the paper. He gave me a look that told me he believed there was more truth to it than he wanted to know and rose from his seat.

  “Antonio, we’ve been talking, and I have been seriously considering abdicating from the throne.” His voice trailed off as he spoke, and I looked up at him with great interest.

  “Oh?” I prompted at his pause. He glanced over at Mother, then looked back at me.

  “We’d had high hopes that you would get this wild phase out of your system, but it seems that you have no intention of ever settling down. You know your brother has a career and a fiancée—and what do you have? Nothing to show for your life, save for a bachelor pad on the beach!” He shook his head as he walked back and forth in the room, and I felt the effects of my hangover grow stronger.

  “I can’t leave this kingdom in the hands of an out-of-control partier. We would be the laughing stock of Europe!” He paused and looked over at me as I fidgeted in my seat.

  “Give me the throne and I’ll make you proud. All this stuff, gone!” I shook the tabloid as I spoke, but my parents exchanged a glance.

  “We thought you might say that, but this is too important to just hand over on such a light promise. That is why your mother and I have come up with a plan. An ultimatum, if you will… We want you to find a wife.” He clasped his hands in front of him and looked at me with a smile. My mouth dropped and I quickly closed it again, doing my best to process what he had just said to me.

  “A wife? You can’t be serious! I know a lot of women, but you want me to pick one to marry?!” I scoffed and turned to my mother. “Is this a joke?”

  Normally, my mother would be happy to take my side in this kind of debate. She wanted me to be happy, and she was willing to stand up to my father to make that happen. However, I could see in her eyes this time that she was more inclined
to take my father’s side in this matter—and I felt myself cringe once more.

  “Not only are we serious, but we’ve put a deadline on it—you need to have this bride by the time you turn 30, or we are going to pass the kingdom on to your brother.” She smiled, looking to my father for approval, and he gave a slight nod. Turning back to me, my mother slowly rose from her chair as well. She walked around the table and paused, giving me a light kiss on top of my head.

  “I know you can do this, and I hope you’ll make us proud,” she whispered into my thick hair. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my father once again. I turned to him, ready to argue the point longer, but he held his hand up to stop me.

  “Antonio, I wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t been the one to force my hand. Your bother has chosen a very different path in life, and I know you can, too. I want to see you both settled down and happy, and right now, all I can see in your future is ruin. Find yourself a wife, make us proud, and live the life you were meant to live.” He spoke with finality in his tone, and I couldn’t take any more of the conversation.

  I rose and turned on my heel, walking out of the door in a huff of defiance and refusing to acknowledge any of the servants on my way out the door. I stormed back to the limo and got inside, but instead of heading home, I told the driver to take me to Lomazz, the capital.

  I rode in silence, ignoring the minor comments my driver made as we cruised along, and I once again ignored him when he opened the door for me as we arrived at our destination. He did his best to offer me a smile, but I pushed past, walking down the narrow path that led to the beach. I kicked off my shoes and walked along the shoreline, thinking about what my parents had said.