by Eve Black
Not that she didn’t have an army of assistants to help her prepare for the babies. The morning after she and David came to a tenuous agreement, two sharply dressed women appeared at her door. One was a professional life coordinator (yes, those existed) and the other was her personal assistant, Susan, her job to do whatever Diana needed done. Which wasn’t much, honestly.
The life coordinator, Elise, was in charge of coordinating the preparations for the twins; nursery furniture, decorations, clothing, diapers, transportation, nanny services, lactation services, and even enrollment in preschool—they weren’t even born yet!
All the furniture was to be delivered to David’s penthouse, as were the clothes and other baby accessories like shoes, toys, play mats, swings, bouncy seats, and the list goes on. She was only fifteen weeks along but it felt like Elise and David were gearing up for an impending baby explosion.
She knew she should feel some excitement—the baby clothes shopping, choosing the themes and decorations, staring at the tiny diapers that she’d bought in bulk and imagining a tiny human wearing them. But…she couldn’t dredge up the happiness she should be feeling.
Because you know the moment they are here, everything else will disappear.
Placing the bookmark in the book she’d been trying to read but couldn’t, Diana stood and stretched. She’d taken to reading in the chair in the master suite. It had an incredible view of the city; bustling streets, historical buildings, the Brooklyn Bridge. It certainly wasn’t the sight she’d see out of her window in Edison.
Her cell rang and she walked to the bed to grab it. It was Margie.
“Hey lady,” Diana greeted, her gladness forced. “What’s up?”
“I’m taking an early lunch and wanted to know if I could stop by. We can order room service on David’s dime and chat. It’s been weeks, Di. I miss you,” Margie’s voice sounded tired, worn.
Tears pricked Diana’s eyes. “I miss you, too, Margie. Sounds good. Come on over, we can order all the fried foods on the menu and wash it down with mocktails.”
Margie snorted. “Only the real deal for me, sweetheart.”
They hung up, Margie promising to be there in an hour, and Diana hurrying to change out of the sweats that she constantly wore. Certainly, she changed before David got there, she didn’t want to look like a total slob when the man she loved arrived. But…she basically lived in sweatpants. With her expanding middle, the constricting waistbands of her jeans were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She could buy herself some larger clothes, but then she’d have to use David’s money for something she’d only wear for the next few months. Then…she’d be left with a closet full of painful memories once their time together was done.
Nope. She’d check out the racks at the Salvation Army and see if she couldn’t find some deals on half-off Wednesday. All the clothes were already majorly discounted from their originally prices, so when the half-off days arrived, it was like a buying bonanza for the budgeting single momma. Go in with $20, leaving with $200 worth of discount clothes. She should know, her mother shopped the Salvation Army religiously, and Diana and Deirdre had been the recipients of scores of discount clothes.
Pulling on a pair of her larger-sized jeans and a wool sweater, Diana checked her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Her cheeks were fuller, as were her breasts, and if she stood sideways, she could just make out the beginnings of a baby bump. With two babies squeezed in there, she knew she’d be huge in a matter of weeks.
Like you aren’t already, that sneering voice ground out in her head, raising another wave of self-deprecating thoughts.
David doesn’t want me in his future because he is ashamed of me. I’m not the trophy woman he can present on his arm.
David is keeping me in the Incantata to hide me so people won’t see that he’s gone slumming.
David fucked me, regretted it, but now I have what he wants most. So, he’s gritting his teeth and playing nice until he can take my babies away.
Those same hideous doubts and thoughts came at least twice per day, and they were suffocating her soul. Certainly, she could ask him about it, beg him to tell her what he really felt, what he really wanted from her, but she was terrified of what he might say. The rejection. The humiliation of laying her heart on her sleeve only to have him rip it away and stomp on it.
A ping of an incoming text caught her attention and she sucked in a breath at what she saw,
DINNER WITH ME TONIGHT. 8PM. WEAR WHAT SUSAN DROPS OFF. LOOKING FORWARD TO IT. – DAVID
Diana glared down at the text. Not only was he demanding she go to dinner with him, he was dictating what she would wear.
Before she could get well and truly riled up about it, Susan entered the room, a black garment bag draped over one arm and a large box under the other arm.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bluth,” she greeted, her smile genuine. “Mr. Brenner instructed that I bring these to you and remind you that he will be waiting for you in the lobby at 8PM sharp.”
Diana pouted. “You do realize that he only told me about this dinner a minute before you got here, right?”
Susan had the grace to look shocked, but she recovered quickly. “No, I did not know. I’m afraid I only do what I am instructed to do, and I was instructed to pick up the dress from the Dior boutique, this box from the front desk, and bring them to you this afternoon at noon.”
Diana checked the time on her phone. It was just 12:05.
Damn. Susan was punctual.
“But why?” Diana queried, her hands itching to unzip the garment bag even though she was determined not to obey David’s summons.
Susan shrugged, laying the bag on the bed and the box beside it.
What was in the box?
“All I know is that Mr. Brenner was adamant that everything be perfect—he picked the dress out himself, you know.”
It was Diana’s turn to show surprise. “Seriously?” She really had to see inside the bag now.
Susan laughed. “He did. He also picked out what’s in the box.” Susan drew a long finger along the top of the box, teasing Diana. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what’s inside?” There was a glint of humor in Susan’s deep brown eyes, but there was also a hardness. The woman was bent on making sure Diana was dressed and presented at 8PM whether she liked it or not.
Diana let out a rush of breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “Dinner? Where?”
Susan grinned, thinking she’d won Diana over. “It is a charity event being held at the Guggenheim.”
Shock rolled through her, making her gasp. David wanted her to be his date to a charity event at a world-famous museum? There’d be hundreds of people there, photogs, too. She wouldn’t be able to hide—it would all be out in the open.
David doesn’t want to hide you. You will be on his arm. As his date. Where everyone can see. Maybe this is his way of saying he sees a future with you.
A surge of excitement lit her from within.
“Well…I guess I shouldn’t be too upset with David, if he is going to take me to a museum,” Diana drawled, trying to keep the thrill from her voice.
She had a date with David. Tonight.
Susan left then, and Diana stood, staring down at the box and garment bag as if they were going to come alive.
A knock on the outer suite door jerked her from the haze of wonder and hopefulness that had settled over her head. She answered the door, finding a grinning Margie on the other side.
“Hey, babe,” Margie chirped, throwing her arms around Diana’s neck and a quick hug. Diana hugged her back, happy to see her friend again.
“Come on in, see the digs,” Diana said, teasingly.
“Digs?” Margie squealed. “This place is a frickin’ palace compared to my place.” Margie had a rather nice condo apartment in NoHo, and Diana loved the fact that Margie would always have the best place to crash. “Let’s order that room service so I can bitch about how unfair my life is and how good you got it.”
&nb
sp; Diana chuckled. “The menu is by the phone, get whatever you want.”
“You’re damn right I will,” she countered, practically bouncing across the room to the phone. “What’re you having?”
Food? Margie wanted her to eat food when her stomach was in knots thinking about the dinner date with David that night?
“Uh…I’m not hungry,” she replied, turning away from Margie to hopefully hide the blush warming her cheeks.
Margie dropped the phone back onto the cradle and narrowed her eyes.
“Oh no you don’t! You have two babies to feed, and starving yourself over some asshole sperm donor isn’t healthy,” Margie practically growled.
Taken aback by her friend’s vehemence, Diana cringed. “It isn’t like that. David and I are…friendly.”
Margie sneered. “Friendly? He fucked you and tried to bail on you.”
Diana sighed, knowing it would take more to convince her friend. “He did do that, but…he apologized, asked me to let him be a father to his babies. I couldn’t say no, Margie. These babies…they’re his dream.”
Grunting, Margie curled her lips. “What about you? Are you part of that dream?”
Hell, when had Margie gotten so good at zeroing in on the hard parts?
Grasping her hands in front of her, Diana paused, trying to decide what to tell Margie.
“Well…I don’t know, honestly. Part of me believes that he is just interested in the babies, that once they’re born, his incubator is useless, and he’ll toss me away.”
“Uh huh,” Margie scoffed.
“But…there’s another part of me, the hopeful, foolishly in love part, that wants to believe there is more between us. That there is the chance for a future where we are a family.”
Margie tensed, her face going white. “Di, honey, please tell me you did not fall in love with David Brenner. You said ‘foolishly in love’ and that’s what it would be—foolish.”
Diana didn’t answer, only clasped her hands tighter until her fingers started turning purple.
Margie collapsed onto the couch, her expression blank.
“You did, didn’t you? You fell in love with David Brenner.”
Unable to come up with a lie big enough to cover the enormity of the truth, Diana replied, “Yes. I love him, Margie.”
“Does he love you back?” There she went again, with the hard target questions.
Diana sat on the couch beside Margie, unclasping her hands to let the blood flow to her finger tips again.
“No, I don’t think so,” she answered honestly. Was a man like David capable of loving a woman after what happened between him and Rinna? The woman he’d given a part of himself to had twisted it, leaving a shell of a man behind. What was left for Diana to have?
Tension weighted the air, but Margie said nothing, just stared at Diana for long, silent moments.
“Fine. Love who you want to love, Diana. I trust that you know what you’re doing, and that it is what’s best for my godbabies.”
Diana leaned in, hugging Margie and kissing her on the cheek.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, you know that. That means I’ll be here for you no matter what.”
Diana smiled, supremely glad to have a woman like Margie on her side.
“Now, let’s order that lunch. I’m gonna use some of David’s billions to stuff my mouth,” Margie said, cackling.
Once lunch was ordered—so much more than either of them could eat in one sitting, Diana finally had a moment to think, remembering the garment bag and mystery box on her bed.
“Margie?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you say to a little fashion show?”
Margie’s whole face lit up. “Come on, bitch! Let’s do it!”
Chapter 23
Ten minutes until 8PM, David leaned against the ornate pillar in the hotel lobby, his attention stuck on his mobile, reading an email from Alexei about some troubleshooting problems on their newest game, set for release within the year. It was facing several technical problems, and Alexei was up to his piercing black eyeballs in complaints, beta player input, and graphics glitches. The man called this game the ‘living hell of role-playing games,’ and David didn’t envy his friend one bit.
David owned the company, Alexei dealt with all the tech research and development, which meant David could deal with the day-to-day without the added pressure of making sure everything in the specialty tech division was running smoothly. He trusted Alexei more than he trusted anyone…
Except Diana. He was coming to trust Diana more than he ever believed he could.
That was one of the many reasons he wanted her with him tonight, on his arm, his companion, his…date. He wanted to show her that he trusted her, that he cared for her, that he was proud to have her beside him. Proud that she was carrying his babies.
Though, that wasn’t something he was ready to share with the world quite yet. He wanted to keep the babies a secret, just a while longer. Just long enough for he and Diana to get to a better place, a place where she smiled more, laughed more, touched him more. When they were together, he would steal little touches, here and there, his hands unable to keep away from the softness and warmth that was his goddess in the flesh. And the more her pregnancy progressed, the more of a goddess she became. Her cheeks were plumper, fuller, and tinged with pink. Her breasts were larger—and hell if he didn’t get a cock stand every time he looked at them. Her body was filling out, her already luscious curves getting all the more mouth-watering. And the glow… He’d heard off-hand remarks about how pregnant women could have a glow about them, an ethereal halo of light that showed they were blessed with motherhood. He hadn’t believed such a thing was possible…until Diana.
She glowed, the light soft yet still bright, as though the sun of a distant galaxy was casting its light over her. She was brilliant, gorgeous, taking his breath away whenever he glanced upon her. She outshone all other women, none could compare to her. Now or ever.
I am blessed to have her to myself.
The ding of the elevator arriving in the lobby made him look up from his phone where he’d all but forgotten he was emailing Alexei, and then he looked up, all but forgetting to breathe.
“Diana…” his voice came out in a husky whisper, one weighted with awe. She was stunning. A vision in wispy black perfection. When he’d decided to take Diana to the charity event, he knew she would need a gown, something to show off her beauty without upsetting the moderate and modest Diana.
He’d gone shopping, hitting all the spots where Rinna had shopped before realizing that the women most definitely didn’t have the same taste. After a call to his assistant, who told him about the Christian Dior boutique in Chelsea, David dashed there, eager to find something perfect for his date.
He found the black sheath dress that hit her just at the knees. The top was asymmetrical, leaving one shoulder bare for his ravenous gaze. The top layer of black fabric was sheer lace with continuous rose patterns, allowing the bottom layer of crimson and gold to show through.
The shoes were an easy matter; he didn’t want her wearing anything too high—he had to make sure she wouldn’t trip and fall and get hurt (he was protecting her), but he knew the shoes had to complement the dress. He chose a pair of gold gladiator sandals, knowing the straps winding around Diana’s legs would make his heart pound, remembering what it was like to have those legs wrapped around him as he made them both shatter with pleasure.
She left the elevator and she smiled when she saw him, her eyes lighting up—a sight he never thought to see again.
He stepped forward, raising his hands to her, whether in supplication to his goddess or in worship, he could not know. When she reached him, he slid his hands over her shoulders, his breath catching. Before he could think better of it, he leaned in, brushing his lips over hers, a soft gasp blowing mint-scented air over his mouth. He inhaled, nearly groaning at the mixture of mint, peaches, and his woman.
My w
oman.
Straining, he dropped his hands, stepping away, determined to take in the whole picture. Her dress fit her like it was made for her, the sandals the perfect accent to her look. She was carrying a small black clutch in her hand, and he could see her nails were painted in crimson lacquer. Her hair, all that golden silk, was parted on the side with a clip holding the mass of hair in place, the other side was allowed to flow freely over her shoulder, like a curtain of golden sunlight. Her makeup was soft, understated, allowing her natural beauty to show through.
“Diana, you are beautiful,” he praised, his voice thick. Beautiful wasn’t even close to how she looked.
She blushed, her eyelashes fluttering. “You look handsome,” she said, her gaze taking him in, from the black bow tie at his throat, to the perfectly shined black shoes on his feet. “Very handsome,” she murmured, her throat working.
Ah…so his goddess found him acceptable. Good.
Before he could say ‘the hell with it’ and take her back upstairs, he placed a hand on the small of her back and directed her toward the lobby doors.
“Shall we?” he drawled, thankful he was regaining some of his control.
She nodded. “Absolutely,” she chirped, turning a deeper shade of pink. Heavens, but her nervousness was adorable. If she even knew a tenth of what he was thinking about her, she’d run screaming.
And he’d chase her, capture her, and make her scream for a wholly different reason.
Goddamn, the man was a Greek god in a tuxedo, how the hell was she supposed to spend the night beside him without jumping on him and begging him to fuck her. Pregnancy hormones were a bitch, especially the ones making her hornier than a teenaged boy in the Playboy Mansion. Since the beginning of the month, she’d awaken sweaty, trembling, her panties soaking wet, her pussy aching, her thoughts squarely on one man’s enormous, thick, veiny cock, and what he could do with it. What she wanted him to do with it, again, and again, and again.