Claiming His Nine-Month Consequence

Ares’s bodyguard closed the car door behind him with a bang, causing him to jump.

“Sir? Are you there?”

Turning his attention back to his assistant on the phone, Ares said grimly, “Give me her phone number.”

Two minutes later, as his driver pulled the sedan smoothly down the street, merging into Paris’s evening traffic, Ares listened to the phone ring and ring. Why didn’t Ruby answer?

When he’d left Star Valley, he’d thought he could forget her.

Instead, he’d endured four and a half months of painful celibacy, since his traitorous body didn’t want any other woman. He couldn’t forget the soft curves of Ruby’s body, her sweet mouth like sin. She hadn’t wanted his money. She’d been insulted by his offer. She’d told him never to call her again.

And now…

She was pregnant. With his baby.

He sat up straight as the phone was finally answered.

“Hello?”

A rush went through him at the sound of Ruby’s low voice. He forced his own to remain cold. “Is it true?”

She didn’t ask who he was or what he was talking about. “Yes.”

“And you’re sure the baby’s mine?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever been with,” she answered flatly, “so I’m pretty sure.”

He waited, but she didn’t continue. He frowned. If she was pregnant, why wasn’t she making demands? He craved the chance to throw her earlier prideful rejection of his money back in her face. How he would have relished that!

But she said nothing.

“What do you want from me, Ruby? Money?” he said finally. “Because if you’re thinking I’ll marry you—”

“I don’t want a damn thing. I just thought you should know.”

And the line went dead in his hands.

Ares stared down incredulously at his phone.

She’d hung up on him.

He blinked in shock.

If it had been any other woman, he would have been suspicious of any pregnancy claim, and certainly demanded a paternity test. But she’d rejected Ares and his money too thoroughly for him not to believe her. She obviously hated the fact that she was pregnant with his child.

As the driver drove the Bentley through Paris, heading toward the airport, Ares stared out the window at the smudged lights in the rain.

Ruby, pregnant with his baby.

His baby.

Ares took a deep breath. He knew he would be no good as a husband or father. Not after the way he’d been raised. His parents were the only example he’d had of family life. He had no desire to perpetuate that kind of misery by dragging any woman and child permanently into his life, in the zero-sum war of marriage.

No. He knew his limitations. Ruby would swiftly realize, if she hadn’t already, that she was better off raising the baby alone.

But what Ares could offer was money. In fact, he would insist on it. Neither Ruby nor his child would ever be in want of anything for the rest of their lives. He would give her the ski lodge, which he’d never gotten around to selling, new cars and a large fortune. A trust fund for the baby. Ruby would never need to work again.

She would try to reject his help, as she had before. But this time he would not let her.

He was determined to provide for them. Ruby was probably working the same ridiculous jobs around the clock, even pregnant. That could be why her voice sounded so flat and tired.

Perhaps he should bring her to New York, where he could make sure she rested and took care of herself throughout the pregnancy. Her pride might try to fight him. But he would insist.

Yes. He liked the idea of bringing her back to New York. His own private kingdom.

His eyes narrowed. And he could end his obsession with Ruby Prescott once and for all.

He’d tried to forget her. Now he knew there would be no forgetting. Not until he was finally satisfied. Then, and only then, would he be free of her.

Ares would bring her to New York for the duration of her pregnancy, and while providing for her and the baby, he could tempt Ruby back to his bed. He would be finally rid of his unspeakable, inconvenient desire.

Narrowing his eyes, he dialed his executive assistant’s number.

“Change my schedule,” he said. “I won’t be going to Mumbai tonight.”