The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 3 (The Billionaire Saga 3)

It came out as a scratchy whisper.

Tabitha shook her head in exasperation. “How do you think it looks? Girl meets very rich boy, and three months later, ends up pregnant. It’s not exactly a stretch for them to assume you’re trying to trap a billionaire by getting yourself knocked up.”

I looked at Marcus. “Is that what you think?” I asked suddenly.

My eyes shot up to his and I found myself abruptly terrified of what he might say. With the speed at which my world had been changing the last few days, it hadn’t even occurred to me that this might be an issue. But surely the thought had crossed his mind.

“Of course not,” he said dismissively. But as quick as he was to assure me, a flash of doubt flickered through his eyes. It told me everything I needed to know.

“Oh my gosh.” I shrank back another step. “You do. You think I did this on purpose.”

“I don’t,” he said again, but our eyes locked and he sighed. “I know exactly how religious you are about birth control, Rebecca. How is it that a few days before Takahari’s supposed to sign the deal, you suddenly end up pregnant?”

I felt like he’d slapped me. The world blurred before my eyes, and it took me a second to realize I was crying.

“I can’t…I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“The world thinks you’re a whore. We’re trying to fix it!” Tabitha said.

“Tabitha, get the fuck out of my house!” Marcus shouted. “I’ve had enough of you! You’re never welcome here again.”

She blinked momentarily, then tossed back her red hair while Billings gathered up his people with a casual wave of his hand.

“Let’s go, people,” he said.

As Tabitha swept nonchalantly out the door, I could have sworn she flashed me a quick, clandestine smile.

“And the rest of you.” Marcus spun around, waving his hands at the people frozen on the periphery of our fiery display. “Clear the fucking room!”

I glared at him beneath the chandelier as the room silently emptied.

He took a step toward me, but I turned and rushed for the front door. It wasn’t until I pulled it open that I realized I had no place to go. This was supposed to be home, now.

“Rebecca, don’t!” He ran out after me. “Don’t take off again! Look, I’m sorry.”

But I’d suddenly run into Billings, standing at the base of the stone steps with his crowd of minions. When I came tearing out of the house, he looked up in surprise, lowering his chattering phone and gazing at me curiously.

“Billings?” I panted, unable to catch my breath.

“Yes, Miss White?”

“Please give me your car.”

Chapter 16

It was the middle of the night when I finally pulled up at Barry and Amanda’s townhouse in Westwood. I had been driving for hours, trying to clear my head. But a hundred circuitous miles later, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened.

Marcus thought this was my fault.

That statement alone implied several things. One: that this whole situation—our impending baby—was a fault, a blame to be placed on one of our heads. Two: while I was thinking this whole time that we were finally in a good place, taking steps to plan our future—he had thought that future included a massive deception on my part. And three: I didn’t know if there was even going to be a future anymore.

How could he have wanted to spend his life with a woman he thought was strategically anchoring him down with a baby? No matter how much he might love her. And how, in the name of heaven and hell, could he possibly think that I would do such a thing? How could he love me if he didn’t know me well enough to be certain that that was nowhere inside my personality? And that was the thing;

he didn’t really know me at all. Just like I didn’t know him at all, either. We needed time to really get to know each other, preferably before a marriage and having a baby. I think we did it the other way around. And yeah, that was completely backward.

I wiped my face and climbed out of my new car in silence, pushing the door shut and dragging my feet up the granite stairs to their house. After ringing the doorbell twice, a light snapped on. Two seconds later, Barry came to the door.

“Rebecca?” he asked in surprise, staring out into the darkness. “It’s two in the morning. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” His eyes flickered out to the driveway. “When did you get a Porsche?”