The Billionaire's Pregnant Fling (Jameson Brothers 2)

"Right. Other people smoking and vaping and doing God knows what else." His eyes tracked around the room as if he suddenly didn't recognize his surroundings. Margot followed his gaze, but try as she might, she couldn't perceive any of the dangers Eddie seemed privy to. "Do your parents know?"

"They know."

"And they know I'm the father?"

Margot cringed, then nodded slowly. It was a conversation she would rather not relive right here and now. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I wanted to tell you first, but Mom found my pregnancy test, and went and told Dad about it." Margot scowled. "Actually, she told me she went looking for evidence. Turns out she suspected I was pregnant even before I did."

"I should have called," Eddie said adamantly. "When you didn't respond to my texts, I should have called you to make sure you were all right. We've got to make sure you're cutting back on strenuous exercise and eating healthy. Are you set up with a good obstetrician? Have you gone to your first prenatal appointment? You don't have to take me with you if you aren't comfortable; I just want to make sure we're covering all our bases."

Margot blinked and sat back. Now Eddie really wasn't sounding like himself. Where was the affably irresponsible, go-with-the-flow Jameson she had grown up with? "You sound like 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' on steroids," she muttered.

"Exactly why we need to have a meeting," Eddie said. "We need to share information and pool our resources. I think what's probably most important to consider is…"

As he continued to rattle off details, Margot felt herself steadily growing nauseous. Now she was the one nodding along without any clear objection to what he was saying. Her skin felt clammy, and she was sure she must look as pale as Eddie had when she broke the news of her pregnancy. How had the tables turned so quickly? Why did she suddenly feel like the one who was unprepared?

Wait—was he seriously talking about school districts?

A distracting, buzzing sensation was starting to form behind her ears. Margot recognized it at once, but wanted to hold onto the moment for just a second longer. Of all the times for her to get sick, this was probably the worst she could have chosen. She had finally crossed paths with Eddie and broke the news, and he was being proactive, already coming up with solutions to problems she didn't know she had…

But there was no hope for it. Margot's stomach clenched, and a sour taste suddenly filled her mouth. The bartender at least seemed to notice her sudden shift; he pointed her toward a far corner of the room, and she didn't risk nodding to show him she had understood. She stood up quickly, and Eddie cut himself off when the look on her face finally registered with him.

"Margot, are you all right?" His stark brows pulled together in perplexity.

She couldn't shake her head any more than she could nod. There was no doubt in her mind that she was about to throw up. She cupped a hand over her mouth and stumbled back toward the bathrooms, leaving Eddie to trail in her wake.

Chapter Three

Eddie

Twenty-four hours after taking Margot home, Eddie found himself headed back to the exact same bar. His attendance at the Thirty Under Thirty mixer had mostly been an excuse to scope out the terrain. A month ago he had arranged a client cocktail hour at the bar, and tonight was the night of the event.

He had almost completely forgotten about it until his brother, Sam, reminded him in the final hour.

"Don't you have some sort of reminder system in place?" Samson Jameson was a Roman sculpture of a man, and about as warm on a good day. He followed Eddie out of the backseat of their shared limousine, and paused to confirm instructions with the driver as Eddie gazed up at the plunging, darkened faces of New York City's skyscrapers. Everything about the city was suddenly less familiar to him, more hazardous and sharply-edged. Was this how things started to look when you became a father—even an expecting one?

"I'm not like you," he replied. "I don't have Trinity to help keep my schedule."

"First of all, yes you do. Trinity is always hounding you about appointments," Sam corrected him. "And second of all, I'm the one who has to remind Trinity of the work engagements she deems nonessential."

"Great. See? I already have two human fail-safes in place," Eddie concluded.

Sam sighed through his nose and adjusted his tie, which had already been resting perfectly on his chest. "This was a good idea, at any rate: allowing our clients to network and mingle, all while trying out new brands of alcohol and different catering companies. Thanks for setting it up."

"You're welcome." His relationship with Sam had always been formal, almost frigid before, and the thaw that they were now experiencing was still new to him. It made him feel pleased, and awkward, and unworthy, to be on the receiving end of Sam's gratitude. Sam was the middle brother, and the one who had most taken after their father—not only in his work ethic, but in his interpersonal relations. The fact that he had found any reason to thank Eddie at all showed just how far they had come in mending fences.

Eddie's throat clenched at the thought. This was an

other piece of what he stood to lose if he fucked things up with Margot. He had already betrayed his brothers' trust by sleeping with a client's daughter in the past; what would their reaction be now that he had done it again?

God, but Margot was different. Margot wasn't just the forbidden fruit Eddie had always longed to taste—she was the whole package. Beautiful, intelligent, successful, and, he had previously assumed, immune to his charms. He was the last person who had expected himself to end up between the sheets with her, and it wasn't helping his case that he craved having her again. This baby business should have been occupying the forefront of his brain, but he couldn't shut his primal desire for Margot down, either, no matter how hard he tried. She was all he could think about.

"You should try looking less hungover," Sam advised as they walked through the bar doors together.

After dropping Margot off last night, Eddie may have had a few too many. He didn't acknowledge Sam's reproving remark, but he did turn the wattage up on his smile, and reach up to smooth one eyebrow (and put pressure on a throbbing spot in his temple).

"Eddie!" A client turned away from one of the caterers to greet him. "There he is, the man of the hour! Come and meet my daughter!"

Oh, Jesus, Eddie thought, but kept his Stepford smile fixed in place. He charmed every acquaintance new and old as best he could, and shook hands firmly despite the fact that all this cordial jostling was only making his head pound harder. He noticed Sam raise an eyebrow at him before moving off to make his own rounds.