The British Billionaire's Baby (9 page)

Easier said than done.

“This way.” Gabby was still gaping at the expansive manor kitchen when he gently nudged her towards a recessed staircase that led to the back part of the house – a portion still in renovation. However, there was one large room that he thought would suit her very nicely. When he opened the door to the gigantic, wood-floored room stocked with sheets of canvases and buckets of paint, Gabrielle emitted an audible gasp. “And I thought this would serve well as the studio you requested. I’ve already had some things brought in for you. What do you think?”

For a moment, Gabrielle only gaped. Despite the ridiculous ancient gray sheathe she wore, the excitement gleaming in her eyes made him want her desperately – much more desperately than he should considering that she wanted nothing more to do with him physically.

“It’s…it’s…” He thought he might be on the cusp of a breakthrough for a moment before Gabby caught him looking at her and quickly masked her delight. “I suppose it’ll have to do.” Sebastian repressed a groan as she crossed the length of the room to take in the paints he’d selected. There were a wide variety stacked on a table, as well as brushes of varying size. He’d tried to provide her with a wide array of choices, glancing at the pieces he’d bought from her for reference.

The moment the tentative deal between them had been struck, he’d sent all of the paintings to Raithwithe. While they might be sharing the same living space, there were a few secrets he still wanted to keep – and exactly how much the young woman’s paintings moved him was one of them. Sometimes it was hard for him to reconcile that the passionate woman who’d so entranced him upon their first meeting was the same infuriating female that faced him now.

“I’m so glad you approve.” His answer was dry as he turned to leave her there. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be in my study if you need me.”

“Sebastian!” He jolted in surprise at the desperation in her voice, immediately cresting the stairs once more to search the room wildly in worry. Gabrielle stood there much the same as he’d left her, one hand resting unconsciously on her still very flat stomach. Upon that hand winked the substantial diamond that served as their “engagement” ring as well as a platinum wedding band. Though he knew their relationship itself was a farce, he couldn’t help but think the rings suited her. They were simple and unruffled, much like the woman herself.

“What is it?”

“I…” She seemed on the cusp of saying something prolific before the light in her eyes died and she wrapped her arms around herself in a reflexive gesture of isolation. “I just wanted to ask when we’ll meet the doctor for the baby’s first appointment.”

He managed a thin smile. If one thing was certain, it was that the baby’s health never left Gabrielle’s mind – not for a moment. It was clearly the only reason she was playing along with him, and so making sure everything in that arena was in order was high on his list of priorities. “Friday morning, eight am. I hope your jetlag will have worn off by then.”

With that, he descended the staircase, leaving her alone in her makeshift studio. As he did so, Sebastian exhaled a sigh of frustration. Nine more months of this...and then he’d have to see to the breeding and pedigree of a child that would be groomed for the position it would occupy in society. He didn’t think it had quite hit him that he was actually going to be a father yet. Yes, he knew that Gabby was pregnant, but he was still having trouble coming to terms with the duties he would have to fulfill.

His own childhood had been somewhat dull, ruled by protocol and social functions that had led to tears of boredom. He’d taken lessons in piano, archery and etiquette, despite disliking all three, and been forced to mingle with painfully self-centered children that dropped their family names at the slightest opportunity. The idea of raising a child like that made him shudder.

He made his way through the kitchen and parlor, back to the east wing of the house and his comfortable study. It was the only room in the house he wouldn’t let the maid touch. He liked his office in a bit of tidy disarray. It was easier to find things that way. Now, he booted up his computer to check on some of his choicer investments, hoping to banish any impending thought of fatherhood.

He had only just begun when his new phone rang.

Groaning, Sebastian picked it up to answer with as much civility as he could manage. “Hello, mother.”

“Sebastian! We’re packing to come down to London now! We can’t wait to meet her!”

He cringed. “Mother, it's hardly been two days since she arrived. Gabrielle’s exhausted. The pregnancy’s taking a lot out of her. Can’t it wait a few weeks?”

“Darling, you can hardly keep us away! This is our new daughter-in-law! I do wish you would have mentioned something before. This shotgun marriage does have the media in a frenzy and – "

“Mum, I told you that we wanted to keep it a secret. She doesn’t like to be in the spotlight. We kept the ceremony discreet for her comfort. She’s not like…British women of breeding.”

“Oh, American girls. They are quite odd. We shall get her used to our lifestyle soon enough. By the way, darling, your father has been talking schools. I was thinking either Winchester or Eton. We could at the very least settle for Abington, but that’s only a worst case scenario-”

“Mother, hold on a moment. Slow down. What on earth are you talking about?” His head was fairly spinning at the rate she spoke.

“Why, prep schools for the baby! Those options are only for a boy, of course. I rather think Wycombe Abbey is the only acceptable option for a girl, how about you?”

“I’ve…I’ve hardly given it thought.” He was too caught off guard to lie. They didn’t even know the sex of the child yet and already his mother was planning out its education? It was a bit much.

“Well, darling, you absolutely must. I’ll bring the brochures with us. We’ll see you in a few days!” When the line went dead, Sebastian was still staring at the receiver, nonplussed. He could see that keeping up this charade was going to be harder than he thought. It was difficult enough handling his mother on his own – and he’d known her his entire life.

Putting Gabby under her microscope was bound to end in disaster. The only thing he could do was dig in and hope that he could prepare her enough in time. There was a lot of work to be done.

Tossing his phone onto his desk, he crossed his study to pour himself a drought of whiskey. He’d lost all interests in investments for the moment. What he needed was an outlet for his frustration. He reached for the intercom to buzz Amir.

“Yes, sir?”

“Meet me in the gymnasium in ten minutes.”

“Of course, sir. Shall I bring the body armor?”

“Not this time.” Sebastian sighed. “I should like to go barehanded. No weapons.”

“As you like, sir.”

It was going to be a long,
long
nine months.

**

Duchess Amelia Hunter of Raithwithe sat at her impeccably polished parlor table, sipping her afternoon tea. As she took a delicate bite of a biscuit, she scanned the paper from that morning. The headline was, of course, about Sebastian’s mysterious new bride, along with a blurry picture captured by a bolder member of the media.

Of course, she was darker skinned. Trust Sebastian to choose something outside of the box. As many times as she’d urged the boy to consider marriage, she had never imagined he might be rebuffing her because he was already in love. While she liked Sebastian to believe he had his share of secrets, she always found out about them one way or the other. She hadn’t heard anything about this girl until the news of their wedding had reached her.

Gabrielle Arnold – daughter to recently deceased oil baron Don Arnold – she might have heard his name somewhere in passing. The girl was moneyed at least. That almost made up for her ethnicity and the speed with which she’d been found pregnant after marrying Amelia’s son. While the elder woman might be pushing seventy, she wasn’t stupid. She was sure the baby had been a precursor to the wedding.

Still, she supposed it didn’t really matter, so long as Sebastian produced a viable heir to the title. In any event, she would be headed down to London the next day despite his protests to meet the girl and measure her mettle. It took a lot more than good looks to stay afloat in British society, and Amelia would accept nothing less than perfection from anyone wishing to join her family. She’d already taken the liberty of beginning to apply to some of the most exclusive schools and programs for her developing grandchild. Though he or she might have American blood, they would have British schooling and a proper British upbringing, Amelia would see to that. The last thing she needed was to see one of her relations in some ridiculous American tabloid, pumped full of the newest illegal drug or relieving themselves in a public place.

No, her grandchild would remain well within her reach, thank you very much; and the sooner Ms. Arnold came to realize that Amelia’s iron hold on her family was absolute, the better things would be for them all.

“Lady Hunter?”

She looked up to see Matilde, the cook, extending the plates she’d selected for tonight’s dinner party. “These are the settings you requested, yes?”

While the woman was excellent in the kitchen, Amelia did hate to repeat herself when she gave instructions. She’d told Matilde about the plates almost a week ago. “Heavens, yes, Matilde. Those are the ones, and do make sure you don’t break any of them. There are exactly twenty and we’re to have twenty guests.”

“Of course, Ma’am.” Matilde inclined her head, her expression respectfully neutral.

“And bring me some more biscuits, please. I’ve run out.”

“Right away, Ma’am.” Matilde made a discreet exit from the room and immediately, Amelia’s mouth twisted into a decidedly unladylike sneer. Good help was so hard to find these days. Matilde was only a year away from getting the papers that would make her a British citizen and Amelia had no problem reminding her of it every time she crossed her.

Smoothing out the paper on her lap, she took another look at the blurry image of her new daughter in law. She was certainly looking forward to meeting her – and discovering what trickery she had pulled to win her son’s heart.

**

“Gabby?”

The shape was perfect. It needed a bit more of an edge perhaps, but she had barely begun to add all the colors she wanted. What it needed now was a bit of a flair. Some blue – some neon green, perhaps

“
Gabby
!” She’d had her first appointment with the doctor yesterday, and though she’d been somewhat embarrassed to bare her body in front of Sebastian for the first time since they’d slept together, she had to keep up appearances. All of her trepidations had faded, however, the moment she’d seen the tiny, blurry blip on the ultrasound monitor. At a mere six weeks, the fetus was barely visible, but they could hear the baby’s fluttering heartbeat and the sound had taken Gabby’s breath away.

Life.

They had created
life
.

It might not have been intentional, but there it was – something beautiful from nothing. She’d in no way, shape or form been prepared for how much the sight would move her. She’d read all the information provided by Doctor Miller in New York and was taking the vitamins she’d been prescribed, but the reality of her situation hit her for the first time when she saw that amorphous little blob.

She was going to be a mother. And, perhaps, that wasn’t the worst thing in the cosmos.

More amazing, even, than the warmth in her own heart had been the expression she’d caught on Sebastian’s face. While he’d seemed unsure when they’d entered the examination room – even uncomfortable– all that discomfort had faded away the moment he’d heard their child’s heartbeat.

The awed expression on his face had said more than words could ever convey, and as he’d stared at the screen, utterly transfixed, Gabby had felt her stomach clench in a sudden, almost painful desire for him. It was easier said than done, to sleep in the same bed with the man – to hear his deep, even breathing and feel his warmth without remembering the taste of his kiss and the mastery of his hands.

It was he who had made this deal and yes, they were only pretending to be in love, but it was evident that they both felt something very real for the child they had created; and so it was a relief to find that it was developing perfectly healthily, even at this early stage.

Now that she had mastered her morning sickness, the baby growing with her seemed to give her new inspiration. She’d woken this morning bursting at the seams and had hurried to her studio in a horrendous nightgown – one of her thrift store purchases. She’d purposefully bought everything in awful granny style two sizes too big. That would teach Earl Sebastian Hunter III to tell her how to dress.

However, even with her terrible clothes, she could swore she sometimes still caught the man staring at her, desire hot in his eyes.

“Christ, woman. I’ve been looking for you for ages.” She barely looked up when Sebastian stepped into her studio – and so she didn’t see his horrified expression. “Gabrielle, what on earth are you wearing?”

She glanced back at him as she dipped a small brush into a bit of green paint. “It’s just an old nightgown. The paint gives it some character, at least.”

Sebastian groaned loudly, drawing his hands down his face. “I could give a damn about the bloody nightgown. My mother will be here within the hour and you’re…well, look at you!”