Billionaires and Baby Rattles Read online

  Billionaires and Baby Rattles

  By

  Dahlia Rose

  and

  Tressie Lockwood

  Billionaires and Baby Rattles

  Copyright © October 2013, Dahlia Rose and Tressie Lockwood

  Cover art designed by Fiona Jayde © October 2013

  Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  ISBN 978-1-627620-29-1

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Amira Press

  Charlotte, NC

  www.amirapress.com

  Father Figure

  Dahlia Rose

  Chapter One

  Ethan sat at his desk numbly after his grandfather’s will was read. He guessed his twin brother, Easton, was just as shocked since he’d stormed out without even a word, holding a letter in his hand, while his stepmother had started to spew her venom because William Tremaine purposely left her out of the will. That part made him grin, at least. Watching her face turn from pale to red while she screeched was entertainment. How did Lurlene Purdy think she was going to get her hands on a penny? His grandfather had barely let her in their large Boston mansion.

  But he had to give the old man credit. He had secured his legacy well. He and Easton had one year to get married and have a child. If not, billions of dollars went into a trust until they did, and board members would run the business if that happened. Sneaky old man. Ethan said the words fondly in his head. His grandfather was the one who had formed the sexist unspoken rule in the company that women with children rarely moved up in the ranks. His exact words were that estrogen and lactation didn’t make for good boardroom meetings. It was one of the things Ethan abhorred, and both he and Easton had agreed that it would change when the old man passed away. They already had a list of people they planned to give promotions and pay raises. Did his grandfather have the best intentions at heart, or was this another ploy to make sure his bloodline went on?

  Either way, he’d stuck them in the middle of the muck, married with kids within a year. How did one accomplish that, and who would want to? Ethan was very comfortable with his bachelor life.

  A knock made him look up at the polished door of his office. His personal assistant, Mya Spencer, peeked her head around the door. As usual, as soon as he saw her face, a twinge of arousal struck him. Ethan had wanted her from the first time she came up from the office pool to work. It was meant to be temporary, but when his previous assistant left, she was given the job full-time. She was like a machine, remembering dates and numbers and fending off calls, especially when their grandfather got sick.

  “Hey, Ethan, do you have a minute to talk?” Her voice had a sweet, almost timid sound to it. He’d learned quickly that her spirit was one of pure fire. She was referred to in the company as “the Dragon” because she guarded the gates of his office like one of the mythical beasts.

  “Yeah, come on in. Please tell me you have a bottle of whiskey in your hand,” Ethan said.

  “The will reading went badly. Did your stepwitch get her hands on your money?” Mya asked.

  Ethan laughed. “Hell no, Grandfather wrote her so far out of it, she’s in another area code. He’s stopped paying for the apartment and essentially wrote in the will, ‘Take your ass back to Oklahoma, where my son found you.’”

  “Wow, that’s cold.” Mya sat down in the chair across from him at his desk. He watched her idly play with the stitched seam of the leather-and-mahogany combo. It was a nervous habit she had, one that he’d noticed over the last two years. She had something on her mind.

  “Yeah, it was, but she deserves every bit of what she gets,” Ethan said. “Dad died trying to escape her viciousness. They were one step from divorce when the yacht capsized. But you’re not here to hear this crap rehashed. What do you want to talk to me about?”

  Mya took a deep breath. “I’m giving my two weeks’ notice.”

  Her news stunned him. “W-What, but why? I thought you liked it here.”

  “Because, Ethan, I’m pregnant, and we all know that since I chose to be a mother, this will now mean I’ll be your assistant for life. I have to look out for us now. So I’ll be leaving in two weeks. I’ve been saving to start my own business. This was a perfect time.”

  Mya leaving, Mya pregnant! Ethan’s mind raced, and he felt the loss already even though she was giving her two weeks’ notice. Even more, he felt jealousy that someone else had her first and got her pregnant. In his mind and his fantasies, she was his, and now she was off the market permanently.

  “You don’t have to leave. Nothing will change,” Ethan said firmly. “Now Granddad has passed, myself and Easton plan to implement a few changes—that’s including the unspoken good old boys rule that women with children can’t focus on work. I’m surprised we haven’t been sued out the ass for this by now. It’s being taken care of, and permanently, at the next board meeting. Some of the old fogies will be retiring. We just haven’t told them yet.”

  Mya smiled. “Glad to hear it, and a lot of others will be too, but I still have to leave, Ethan. Honestly, even though I spoke about advancement, I really don’t want to. I want to own something that my two hands built and where I can raise my baby, not drop him off at day care.” Mya’s smile beamed. “My mom raised me that way, and I’d like to do the same. I’m not meant for the corporate world. That became clear when I saw the pregnancy test come up positive.”

  Ethan nodded. “I can see it on your face you’re happy. I hope the father is too. He is a lucky guy.”

  This time her face became clouded, and her lips firmed to a disapproving line. “He’s not in the picture.”

  “Do I need to hit someone a few times?” Ethan growled. “Is it that guy from the seventh floor, the stockbroker? What’s his name, Kyle Bradshaw?”

  “Well, y-yes…” Mya pointed a finger at him. “You, Mr. Tremaine, are not to hit or harm him in any way. I took care of it myself.”

  “How?” Ethan asked. The guy was an idiot if he thought he could do better than Mya.

  “I told him I was pregnant. He laughed and said not by him—I probably had a few men in my bed. I kicked him in the balls and threw him out of my apartment,” Mya explained. “Honestly, it was over three months ago, four counting the last time we slept together and the conception time…I didn’t know I was pregnant. My cycle is finicky, so…I’m so sorry. You don’t want to hear any of this. Let’s just say it’s done and I’m good with my choices.”

  “All right, I will respect your wishes, but if I see his cocky face, I may not be responsible for what happens,” Ethan said. “No two weeks’ notice, you can take that time off too. Sleep in and rest. You deserve it, Mya. You’ve worked harder than some of the old fogies here. I’ll make sure your severance package is generous. You’ve earned that and more.”

  “I won’t take more than I am owed by my contract,” Mya answered as she got up. “I’m going to lunch early if that’s okay. I have an OB-GYN appointment.”

  “We’ve got no meetings scheduled for today, and I’ll manage.” Ethan smiled. “You’ll need your rest now because in a few months, you may be doing the nighttime walk.”

  “What do you know about that?” Mya’s lips curved in a smile as she reached for the doorknob.

  “Remember Rodney, my racquetball partner?” he asked.

  “The newscaster guy? Yes, I haven’t had your regular game on the schedule for a few weeks,” she answered.

  “That’s because his wife gave birth six weeks ago, and he’s been too exhausted
to think about racquetball,” Ethan explained. “He said they’re wearing a hole in the carpet walking the same route. The baby cries most of the night.”

  “Sounds like colic. Tell them to try two ounces of warm mint tea in the bottle at night around seven. The baby will burp, and it will soothe the tummy ache associated with colic.”

  As she spoke, Ethan couldn’t help thinking how much more beautiful she actually was now, and an idea formed in his head.

  He nodded and smiled. “Thanks, I’ll call him and tell him. You enjoy your day, Mya, and congratulations on the baby.”

  “Thanks, Ethan, for everything, and being an amazing boss,” Mya said softly.

  Before he could answer, she was out the door, and in her usual way, she made sure the door was closed. She always waited to hear the click before he saw her shadow move away from behind the frosted glass.

  Ethan sat back. His mouth became a grim line when he thought about Kyle Bradshaw and how he’d treated Mya. The prick probably looked down on her because he thought she was only an assistant. Little did he know that what Mya knew could dwarf what fit in Kyle’s pea brain. He wanted to break the guy’s face for Mya.

  Beautiful Mya, her skin was a soft-colored cocoa, and her lips were absolutely delectable, full, soft, coral in color, and definitely kissable. She had a curvy body, with full breasts and long legs, and an ass that made you think, Have mercy, when she walked away. What was the old saying? She looked as good going as she did coming. He wanted to see her come, that was for sure.

  The idea he’d pushed away earlier came back in full force. This time Ethan gave it his full attention. Mya could be the solution to his problem. A ready-made family, and she was someone he’d wanted in his life for a long time. He could be a father to her child and have the woman of his dreams. If she wanted to leave after one year of marriage, he’d make sure she could start her dream business. Would it work, or would she slap his face for being a jerk? There would be no way to know unless he posed the question. He’d go by her apartment later that night to discuss it with her.

  Ethan tapped his pen against his chin as he sat back in his chair and smiled. It seemed the perfect solution had fallen into his lap.

  * * * *

  Mya opened the door of her apartment and sighed in pleasure. She thanked God that Ethan had given her the rest of the day off. She didn’t know if her queasy stomach could take a day of smelling fast food and everyone else’s cologne. What she’d thought was a case of the stomach flu ended up being a bun in the proverbial oven.

  Telling Kyle and hearing his nasty attitude firmed the decision that she was better off being a single mom. Luckily, she had anticipated his attitude and taken steps to make sure the break was clean and he could never come back into her life. Kyle signed over his parental rights quickly before hitting the door running. The papers were now stored safely in her safe-deposit box along with her grandmother’s pearls and rings.

  She stopped for a moment to rub her belly and wished that her nana was around to see the baby. She’d lost her only family two years ago and missed her as much as if she just lost her yesterday. It was Lucille Spencer who gave her the spunk and the fire to say, “Fuck off. I’m raising my child alone.” Mya was sure her grandmother was looking down at her in approval right now.

  Time to eat something. The thought made her grimace. It was hard to keep anything down, and noodles were barely cutting it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She wanted to eat a big, thick, juicy burger and salty fries. But she knew if she gave in to the whimsy that she’d be bent over the toilet puking her guts out. So she made her bland noodles and added butter, ketchup, and hot sauce just because the baby wanted it. As disgusting as it looked, and knowing she wouldn’t eat it if she weren’t pregnant, she devoured her makeshift meal. She had half a glass of ginger ale and then sat on the couch for thirty minutes so her food had a chance to settle. She had learned another lesson—lying down right after eating led to the same conclusion of being sick in the bathroom.

  Luckily, she was already around seventeen weeks pregnant. Her doctor said at twelve weeks, the end of her first trimester, she’d start feeling like her old self. But she was a week past four months, and it was still the same. Her doctor said sadly she might be one of the women who has morning sickness the entire pregnancy. Oh fun—not!

  Mya was looking forward to reading in bed later that night. She had a bunch of pregnancy books on her Kindle to pore through. She would be the best parent she could and was excited at the new chapter in her life. Who didn’t want to be in a secure relationship when expecting a child? But when a situation presented itself, one had to adapt.

  Time’s up. Mya sighed and went into her bedroom. She felt like she could sleep the day and night away and gratefully took her clothes off to slide between the sheets. It was fall in Boston, October first, to be exact, but she always slept in only her undies no matter what the season was. Her due date was May fifth, and she was already excited. I can do this all by myself, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.

  Much too soon, it seemed, she was awakened by the doorbell in her duplex. She looked at the clock on her bedside table groggily and saw four hours had passed and it was after six in the evening. The doorbell rang again, and she moaned, throwing her hand over her eyes. Who was at her house, exactly? If it was her best friend, Robin, she was going to murder him. The persistence of the ringing bell made her irritably get up and throw on a bathrobe. Mya muttered about murder and mayhem under her breath. It wasn’t Robin at the door but Ethan when she wrenched it open a little too forcefully. His handsome grinning face was a surprise to see, and he held up a brown bag with grease stains at the bottom.

  “I’m feeding you and the baby today,” Ethan announced and opened the bag. “I brought your favorite burger from Daddy’s, and the Cajun fries.”

  “Oh God.” At the smell and thought of the burger, she felt her stomach turn and the contents left from lunch begin to rise to her throat.

  Mya covered her mouth with her hand and waved him inside before rushing to the bathroom. There wasn’t much left, but whatever was in her stomach came up until each new round made her muscles hurt as she gagged. Finally she got up tiredly and brushed her teeth, splashed some cold water on her face, and found a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt in her bedroom.

  She poked her head out of the bedroom, looking warily at Ethan standing by her sofa. “That stuff isn’t in here, is it?”

  “No, after your reaction, I fed it to your neighbor’s dog,” he said.

  “Poor Brutus was on a diet,” Mya said. “Well, I won’t tell on him since it was our fault. Stop standing by the door, Ethan. You can sit in my house.”

  “I was waiting to be invited. It’s good manners,” he replied. “I’m sorry I made you sick.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She sat Indian style on the opposite side of the sofa and faced him. “They said after the first trimester I should stop throwing up at the sight of food. They were wrong.”

  “Well, at thirteen weeks, the HCG level in your system is supposed to even out. You’re four weeks past that mark. Should we be worried that you’re still ill?” Ethan asked.

  She stared at him in shock. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “Hey, I read,” he said.

  She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “I’m sorry, but Ethan, you and Easton are like the sexy twin poster boys of playboys. I make your reservations, remember, and buy your books. How to Be Pregnant is not on the reading list.”

  “I bought one today,” Ethan said.

  “Why would you do that?” she asked.

  “Because I wanted to know what you’re going through,” he said simply.

  She heard the caring in his voice, and the tumble in her stomach was a sweet feeling she rarely had. She pushed it back and firmly away. This was Ethan Tremaine, playboy, billionaire, and her boss. He was übersexy, with light blue eyes and dark hair. His sexy mouth was simply perfect in shape. It could
curve in a smile or cut someone down in the boardroom. A hard-muscled body showed how active he was even though she’d never seen him in anything but a business suit. She’d taught herself the last two years not to fantasize about her boss. He was above her pay grade, and she could never compete with the supermodels and elite circles he ran with.

  She leaned forward and patted his hand. “That’s sweet, Ethan, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got the grit to be a single mom. I can do this.”

  He caught her hand in his and didn’t let go. “What if it didn’t have to be that way?”

  Mya shook her head. “Kyle? Oh fuck no. Sorry for the language. I knew we’d be just a fling from the first date. This just happened to be a consequence of my lack of judgment. I’m better off alone, and he already signed the termination of parental rights paperwork—”

  “I meant me, Mya. You could be with me.”

  His words cut off her stream of words, and she stared at him in shock.

  “What?”

  “I can be your baby’s father,” Ethan said.

  “Why would you want to do that?” she asked in disbelief.

  “The part of my grandfather’s will that could potentially take everything from me and Easton,” he answered. “We have to get married and have a child within one year of the will reading, or we lose everything.”

  “What was your grandfather thinking? Besides that he hated women in the workforce,” Mya said. “So, essentially, you want to play pretend house? Sorry, Ethan, it’s a no. My child and I are not a game, and I’m not starting his or her life in upheaval. Children need stability.”

  “I’m offering that. This wouldn’t be just in name only,” Ethan explained. “I’ve had a thing for you since you started working for me. I’d be a good father and a good husband to you.”

  Mya laughed incredulously. “Okay, so now you’re insulting me and trying to play me for a fool. Ethan Tremaine, you’ve left the office with your hand practically up some new arm candy’s skirt for as long as I’ve worked for you and way before that. They don’t call you Playboy in the secretarial pool for the heck of it. Now your money’s on the line, all of a sudden you want me to believe that you’ve been interested in me and want to be a daddy?”