Surprise Daddy: A Billionaire Doctor Accidental Pregnancy Romance

by Hunter Rose

  “Seems a little excessive for a simple background check,” I say.

  He shrugs. “I treat every client the same,” he explains. “Be it a simple background check or handling proprietary corporate information. It’s all the same to me.”

  “I have to say; you seem to be everything Elliott said you were and more,” I tell him.

  “Which is exactly why I charge what I charge for my services,” he tips me a wink.

  “Well, he says you’re worth every penny.”

  “Oh, I am,” he replies.

  When he speaks, it’s not in a boastful way, but in a way that says it’s a matter of settled fact like water is wet and fire is hot. I don’t get that he’s arrogant, he’s just confident in his abilities. And because of Elliott’s line of work, I trust his judgment. So if he says he has every reason to be confident, I believe him.

  He pulls a file out of his briefcase, then closes it again and sets it back down beside his chair. He hands me the file, and I open it.

  “Standard contract and confidentiality agreement to be signed by the both of us,” he explains. “You’ll get a copy of this file as well as a breakdown of my charges.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He leans back in his seat and picks up the box of whiskey again, looking at it almost lovingly. Elliott told me Liam is an amazing investigator who always goes the extra mile. What he didn’t tell me is that he’s also a bit – eccentric.

  “So, tell me everything you can,” he says without looking up from the bottle. “Who will I be doing a deep dive on?”

  “Her name is Scarlet Carrington,” I start.

  For the next half hour or so, I tell him everything I can about Scarlet – starting with our time in Syria and running through her sudden re-emergence in my world. I tell him about Kinsey and everything else I can think of, no matter how irrelevant it sounds. I figure if he’s going to be investigating her for me, having him armed with too much information is better than too little.

  And when I’m done with my story, Liam sits there, one leg crossed over the other and his hands folded in his lap, looking at me evenly.

  “You know, you could have saved yourself a lot of time and money by having a paternity test done,” he shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “I mean, you work in a hospital, how hard can it be to have done?”

  “I know. I just think – I think it’s rude. By demanding a paternity test, it’s like I’m telling her I think she’s a liar and that she’s trying to con me,” I explain. “As stupid and crazy as this all sounds, I don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have.”

  “Doesn’t sound stupid or crazy to me,” he says. He arches an eyebrow at me, that smile still playing upon his lips. “Sounds more like the actions of a man who really cares about somebody. But then, if she finds out you hired me, it could be just as bad as a paternity test. You sure about all this?”

  “Positive,” I say, though I’m anything but. “Besides, she’s married. So even if I did have feelings for her still – and I’m not saying I do – there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.”

  Liam gives me a long, appraising look, but remains silent. The silence between us stretches on. I feel the need to fill that void, just because the quiet is making me uncomfortable for some reason.

  “Anyway, I’m not doing this because of any emotions, real or imagined,” I speak up. “I’m doing this only to see if she’s on the up and up. I’m only trying to determine whether or not she’s genuine or trying to pull a con job on me.”

  His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he nods. “Fair enough,” he says. “What’s your initial read on her?”

  “Well, my initial read is that she’s telling me the truth. That Kinsey is my daughter,” I state. “I’ve never known her to be a liar or a scammer.”

  “And why do you think she told you about your daughter now? After all these years have passed?”

  I give him a small shrug. “Coincidence,” I tell him. “I happened to run into her after her – husband – needed an appendectomy and was transported here. Just dumb luck.”

  “Not how, but why do you think she told you?”

  I sit back and recall her words. As I do, images of her face appear in my mind, and I feel my heart swell again. She’s still so beautiful. If I had to sum up her beauty in one word, it would be ethereal. And not for the first time, I think her husband is a lucky man. I just hope he treasures and appreciates her the way she deserves.

  “She told me that she wouldn’t have, if we hadn’t run into each other,” I explain. “She said that she told me because I had a right to know and that it was the right thing to do.”

  He nods, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he processes everything I just told him.

  “Okay,” he says. “I think I have what I need, so I’ll get to it.”

  “Excellent,” I say. “I appreciate you helping me out.”

  He chuckles. “It’s not like you’re not paying well for my help.”

  “Money well spent, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Liam walks out of my office, leaving me alone behind my desk with a cold cup of coffee and my thoughts. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t be doing this – digging into her personal life the way I am. I know it’s an invasion of her privacy. If she ever found out, I’m sure she’d be pissed. But I have to protect myself. I have to know if she’s being real or is running a con on me.

  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I know I can clear this up with a paternity test. A few swabs, a couple of tests, and boom, it’s done. I’ll know whether I’m Kinsey’s father one way or the other. And yet, I don’t. I won’t do it. I tell myself it’s because it would be rude and that I fear she’ll take it the wrong way. And that much is true. But it’s more than that.

  As I sit there, I find a thousand other rationales for what I’m doing when, deep down, on levels I don’t want to admit, even to myself, I know this is all for one goal – because I want to know everything about her. I know she’s married. I know things can never be what they were between us. But I’m still drawn to her and compelled by her. I still feel strangely possessive of her. There’s a piece of me, even all these years after the fact, that feels like she’s mine. That she belongs with me.

  I know she’s married, and I have no plans to actively sabotage that. Like I said, I’m not a homewrecker. But if there are any cracks in that marriage, if she’s not happy in the slightest way, then I want to know about it. I want to know everything there is worth knowing about her relationship.

  I know it’s never going to come to pass, that the window I had with her is closed. And I understand that knowing everything about her is pointless and will only serve to keep the wound inside of me fresh. But I can’t seem to help myself. I want her. Even still.

  And if there is any crack in her armor that I can exploit, any handhold I can use to hoist myself back into her life, Liam will find it. And I will use it.

  20

  Scarlet

  “I told you I was fine,” Tyson insists.

  “Actually, I think I remember you being worried about dying,” I respond. “I seem to remember you going over your will on the ride over here.”

  Doctor Ressler laughs and shakes his head. “No need for you to get your affairs in order just yet,” he says. “I think you’re going to be with us for a long time.”

  Tyson smiles wide and looks Ressler up and down, then gives me a wink. He obviously has a crush on the young and good-looking Doctor Ressler.

  “I want to take you in for an MRI and a couple of tests, so I need to take him back,” Ressler says and then drops to a knee in front of Kinsey. “We have some really yummy ice cream in the cafeteria. I bet if you ask your mom really nice, she’ll take you for some.”

  Kinsey looks up at him, her eyes wide with hope as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. I laugh and tussle her hair.

  “Yes, we can go get some ice cream while uncle Tyson is in the back,”
I say.

  She squeals with glee. “Ice cweam!”

  “Oh, God, ice cream? Don’t end up like me, Kinsey! No!” calls out Tyson with mock terror in his voice as the doctor pushes him through a set of swinging doors and takes him into the back. I guide Kinsey down the corridor toward the elevators that will take us to the cafeteria.

  We step into the elevator car, and I lean against the back wall, pulling Kinsey against me. She’s humming a tune, singing nonsensical words, and I can’t help but smile. When everything else in the world around me is going to shit, she is the one thing I can count on to make me smile. To make me happy. My baby girl is the light of my life. I know that every parent says it at one point or another, but she is absolutely perfect.

  The doors to the elevator are starting to slide closed when suddenly, a hand shoots in and keeps them from shutting. When they open again, I find myself staring directly into the face of Roman Wheeler. My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing a long white lab coat over dark blue surgical scrubs and is as beautiful as any doctor you’d see on TV or in the movies. He looks more like a model than a doctor to me.

  He gives me a smile and leans against the wall of the elevator to my right, folding his strong arms over his broad chest. Kinsey gives him a wide grin and a giggle before she buries her face into my legs again. She turns her head and peeks at him. Roman smiles wide and gives her a wave.

  “Hi Kinsey,” he says. “Remember me?”

  She nods and giggles again before burying her face into my legs again. Roman laughs and looks at her with something like adoration on his face – which surprises me. He looks at my daughter the way a father might look at his favorite child. Seeing that gleam in his eye when he looks at her makes my heart swell uncontrollably – and also unleashes a wave of trepidation within me.

  I give my head a small shake and clear my mind. I can’t afford to be thinking of him this way. I can’t really afford to be thinking of him at all. Yet I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop my mind from spinning. And as hard as I try, I can’t stop my eyes from sliding up and down his body, taking in every inch of him, and feel the heat blossom between my thighs. It’s insane that despite all the anger I feel and despite all the hurt this man has caused me, he still has this effect on me. It’s crazy that he can still inspire this degree of lust within me, but I feel powerless to stop it.

  I give my head a shake and have to physically tear my eyes away from his crotch. With my cheeks flushing like mad, turning what I’m sure is an unnatural shade of red, I look away, keeping Kinsey’s face buried against my leg. It makes me remember the feeling of having him inside of me – which sets off tremors in my pussy as I feel myself growing slick with my juices.

  “Going – down?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at me, quite obviously enjoying this.

  “We’re headed to the cafeteria,” I tell him quickly.

  He gives me a salacious grin. I hate myself for feeling this way. I hate myself for still feeling this stab of lust burning its way through me. Except that I know it’s more than simple lust. It’s a lot more complicated than that – which makes me hate myself even more. I may not want to admit it, least of all to myself, but it’s true.

  I’ve thought a lot about our time together in Syria – maybe even more so now that he’s stumbled back into my life – and I’ve tried to dissect my feelings about him to understand why it is I feel what I feel about him. I’ve tried to figure out why I can’t just excise thoughts of him from my mind – not to mention my lower extremities – like a malignant tumor altogether. I’ve thought about it over and over, and yet, I come up empty every single time.

  “How are you two doing?”

  “Fine,” I stammer quickly. “We’re fine.”

  I feel like there’s a flock of butterflies in my chest, loose and fluttering wildly as he turns those crystalline blue eyes on me. I see the hunger in his eyes as he takes me in, which sets those butterflies inside of me fluttering even more wildly. The doors slide closed, locking us inside with him, and the elevator starts to descend.

  It feels like the car is moving slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Every second is torture. Having those piercing blue eyes focused on me is making things even worse.

  “So – what brings you to the hospital today?” he begins.

  I clear my throat, feeling awkward and strained to the breaking point. As if she can sense my mood, Kinsey looks up at me with wide eyes. I give her an encouraging smile and stroke her hair gently, but the tension in the elevator car is as thick as summer humidity in the Midwest.

  “O – Tyson had to have some follow up tests,” I stammer.

  He nods. “Right, the appendectomy,” he says. “How is he doing?”

  “He’s good,” I reply. “He’s doing really well. You guys took great care of him.”

  “We do our best,” he grins.

  The elevator finally and mercifully stops, and the door slides open with a loud chime. Desperate to get out of the elevator and well away from him, I take Kinsey by the hand and lead her out of the elevator, turning right and heading down the corridor that will lead us to the cafeteria. I cut a glance over my shoulder and see Roman trailing behind us, a smarmy grin on his face. Right. As if he’s going to let me get away that easily.

  Kinsey and I head straight for the ice cream machines. She grabs a bowl and fills it with a chocolate and vanilla combo from the soft serve machine. After that, she spoons sprinkles on her miniature mountain of ice cream, practically covering it altogether. I’m so distracted by Roman drifting through the cafeteria that I only notice her god-awful creation after the fact. I grab a bottle of water, and we head for the cashier. We pay for our things, head for a table, and sit down.

  A moment later, Roman drops down at the table across from me, sets his cup of coffee down, and gives me a crooked smile. He looks at Kinsey, that same expression of adoration he had in the elevator still on his face. Kinsey, her mouth smeared with ice cream and sprinkles, gives him a goofy grin.

  “Good stuff, huh?” Roman asks her.

  She nods enthusiastically and then turns back to her bowl, shutting us out completely. Apparently, the only thing that exists in Kinsey’s world right now is that bowl of ice cream.

  “Don’t you have something you need to be doing, Doctor Wheeler?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be off saving lives or something?”

  He shrugs. “Did that this morning,” he tells me. “I’m not scheduled to leap a tall building until this afternoon.”

  I laugh softly. “Still a smartass, I see.”

  “Did you think that would change?”

  “Mama said bad word.”

  I look down at my daughter, who’s looking back at me with wide eyes, her tiny mouth a perfect O.

  “You’re right,” I gasp, doing my best to look abashed. “Mama said a bad word. I’m sorry, honey. I won’t do it again.”

  “Spoiler alert, kiddo – your mama says a lot of bad words,” he chimes in.

  I glare hard at him. “Roman,” I hiss.

  “What? I think it’s better she learn early that her mother isn’t some paragon of virtue,” he laughs.

  I shoot him a death glare and turn to Kinsey. “He’s kidding, honey,” I say. “Doctor Wheeler likes to make jokes. He likes to imagine that he’s funny.”

  If Kinsey heard a single word Roman or I said, she gives no indication. Her attention is riveted on her bowl of ice cream. Roman is favoring Kinsey with that light of pride in his eyes again – I recognize it because it’s so often in mine. It warms my heart and slightly dulls the edge of anger inside of me. Slightly.

  I think about what Tyson and I spoke about – about Roman paying child support. And as that thought goes through my head, so too does my current predicament. The fact that I’m going to be out of a place to live sends a shot of ice water through my veins. I open my mouth to speak, but Kinsey’s voice stops me before I can utter a single syllable.

  “Uh oh,” she chirps.

  I look down and se
e that she spilled a large dollop of her ice cream onto the table in front of her. Before I can say anything, Kinsey is bounding off her seat and running for the napkin dispenser. I watch her closely as she goes. I try to avoid being a helicopter mom and give her the space she needs to grow into her own person, but I sometimes can’t help it. I worry about her. There are so many evil people running around out there, so many people who will whisk your child away in the blink of an eye, that I feel like I’d be a bad mother if I didn’t keep a close eye on her.

  “Is everything okay with you?”

  Roman is looking at me, an expression of concern on his face. I cut a glance over at Kinsey and suppress a smile as I watch her pulling about a million napkins out of the dispenser. I look back at Roman, doing my best to watch them both at once.

  “I’m fine,” I reply. “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem a little stressed.”

  I cock my head at him. “I do?”

  He nods. “I can see it.”

  “Think you know me that well, do you?”

  “I do.”

  I scoff. “You don’t know the first thing about me. I don’t think you ever did.”

  He gives me a tight smile. “I probably deserve that.”

  “You deserve a lot more than that,” I snap, feeling my anger welling up within me. “You ghosted me, Roman. You got what you wanted and then bailed on me. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?”

  He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “That’s not how it was.”

  My mouth falls open, and I gape at him. “Are you kidding me? How do you accidentally ghost somebody?”

  “I honestly can’t tell you why I didn’t call you at first. I wanted to, but something was holding me back –”

  “What was holding you back?”

  He opens his mouth to reply but then closes it again, pulling back whatever he was about to say. I’m not about to let him off the hook that easily, though.

  “No. I’ve waited four years for answers, you son of a bitch,” I growl. “I deserve answers.”