The Heiress's Pregnancy Surprise (Heirs to an Empire 2)

“I’ll beat him up for you.”

That made her laugh.

Stephen patted her knee. “Come down for dinner. And then take some time to think. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d propose today. I guess Jacob isn’t the kind of guy to waste time.”

No, because she knew to Jacob time was precious. Oh, there were so many feelings bubbling up within her that she didn’t know what to think or do. But the idea of dinner appealed. She’d barely eaten, and she desperately needed something normal to help clear her mind a bit, sort out all the threads of her thoughts. “I’ll meet you down there. Thank you, big brother. Wise counsel comes from the strangest places.”

“Hey, easy when it’s you. I’m not good at taking my own advice, though.”

When he left, she got up and went to put the ring box on top of her dresser. It was then that she noticed the small Aurora bag. It hadn’t been there before. She picked it up and inside was a white box tied with black ribbon.

And inside the box was a butterfly pendant on a chain, the bright gems sparkling in the spring sunlight filtering through her windows. A small note was tucked in beside it, and she put the necklace down gently and picked up the paper.

Picked this up in New York. It reminds me of you.

Don’t let anyone clip your wings, Charlie.

Love, Jacob

He’d bought it in New York, back when they’d barely known each other. That day at the store? Perhaps... It was the only time they were apart during the trip. Even back then he’d had her on his mind, he’d seen into the deepest part of her and her longings. And now, when she’d hurled such horrible accusations at him, he still left her with words of love and encouragement.

He’d once said that he didn’t deserve her. That he was wrong for her. But it was the other way around. She didn’t deserve him.

Holding the butterfly in her hand, she wept into her pillow.

* * *

Jacob put his duffel down in his office and let out a big breath. This last trip had taken him to Egypt for a week, and he still felt dusty and hot. And tired. What he wanted was a shower and a steak, in that order.

And a drink. Maybe several. Being back on English soil only reminded him of Charlie, and he was still smarting from their last encounter. She’d disappointed him. Even though he understood every one of her fears, he’d hoped she’d rise above them and say yes. What a fool he was. What a stupid, romantic fool.

He chuckled mirthlessly as he sat in his desk chair and spun a little, surveying the otherwise empty office. No one in his life would ever accuse him of being romantic, but here he was, being what his men would call a “sad sack.” Truth was, he was thirty-seven years old, and he’d given up the thought of a wife and family. Until Charlie came along. He could forget again, right? Build Wolfe Security up, maybe open a second and third office elsewhere. In the United States, maybe. Somewhere in the European Union.

The front door opened and he straightened, immediately alert. Was it Charlie, maybe? He rose, only to discover one of his logistical staff, MJ, was back to grab something they’d forgotten for the weekend.

“Sorry, boss,” they said, retrieving their backpack. “Can’t believe I left this here. Good trip?”

“Good trip,” he replied, attempting a smile. “Hot.”

“Not great for having a delayed flight, either, huh? We expected you a few hours ago. So did someone else, who came looking for you.”

“Who?” He sat up straighter.

“A woman, dark hair, pretty. About my age.”

Since MJ was still in their twenties, he couldn’t stop his heart from wondering if it was Charlie. “Did she leave a name?”

MJ shook their head. “But she did say she’d come back later, that she’d probably head to the pub to wait. She didn’t say which pub, though.”

He knew which one. “Thanks, MJ.”

“Have a good weekend, boss.”

When they were gone, he got up from his chair and paced. What was she doing here? Dare he hope? Or perhaps she was just delivering the agreement he’d suggested she have drafted. He closed his eyes. He had to deal with her sometime. The job in Mansoura had been a distraction, but now that he was back, Charlie and their child was all he could think about.

He grabbed his bag and headed upstairs for a quick shower. He didn’t even wait for the shower to run—hot water was overrated—and in five minutes he was dressed and downstairs again, trying to sort out in his brain what he

was going to say.