Billionaire's Baby Contract (Hawthorne Brothers 1)

I frown. So he really was the one pulling all the strings.

The bitter taste of frustration rises in my throat. Until when am I going to be his puppet? When will I be able to call the shots for real?

“You didn’t think to tell me any of this?” I ask him.

He could have spared me a great deal of anxiety.

“I knew you would be able to handle it,” he answers.

Yeah, right. Except I didn’t handle it. I didn’t do anything.

I walk past him and climb the stairs. “I’m going to my office. I still have work to do.”

And I don’t want to let him make me feel like an incompetent fool anymore.

“One last thing,” my father says.

Of course he’s not going to let me go that easily.

I stop on the steps. “What?”

“Did you find yourself a woman in Switzerland?”

My eyes grow wide. Did Reuben tell him about Stella, too? Or did he find out on his own?

“No,” I answer.

He sighs. “Pity. I’m not getting younger, you know. Are you really going to deny me a grandchild?”

Tempting.

I look at him. “If you want another kid in the family, why don’t you just marry again and make one yourself?”

He snorts. “Marriage is too much trouble.”

“But you want me to marry?” Unbelievable.

“I married because that’s what you did back then,” he says. “And if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

I know, I know. I owe him my life.

“But I’m not saying you have to,” he continues. “What I am saying is that it’s your turn to provide an heir for the company now.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Has it ever occurred to you that I’m tired of you telling me what to do?”

“You did promise me,” he reminds me.

And I remember I did.

Fuck.

“And it’s not entirely for me, you know. It’s also for you. Maybe you’re still too young to be thinking about this, but trust me, there will come a time when you’ll be glad to have someone to leave the company to. And if you find the right woman, it will be nice to have someone by your side when the world seems against you. As it often will.”

I know. That’s how I felt when I found out Odermatt’s files had been stolen. And who was by my side?

Stella.

Dad pokes me in the ribs. “Besides, if you had a woman, she’d be the one welcoming you home. Not me.”

I have to admit that sounds better. Better yet if it’s Stella waiting for me at the top of the stairs in a dress, her hair down and a smile on her lips.

I pause. Whoa. Where did that image come from?

I wouldn’t mind having Stella as my partner, but I can’t. She’s my assistant. If I’m with her, she’ll have to stop being my assistant, and even after she does, the world will never forget that she was. Every chance they get, they’ll ridicule her for it, call her names. Also, I’ll barely get to see her. She’ll be stuck at home with a baby and I’ll be stuck in the office.

I’ll only end up hurting her, and she’ll only end up being unhappy.

I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to ruin her life. Which means I’ll have to find someone else to make miserable, which I don’t have time for right now.

“I’m not going to have a kid anytime soon, Dad,” I tell my father. “Not yet.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“I have to go to work.”

I continue up the stairs before he can say more. He doesn’t, but the voice inside my head won’t keep quiet. It keeps whispering Stella’s name, reminding me of her, of how it felt good to be with her, of what I’ll never have again.

I zip it as I walk to my home office.

Stella and I are done. There’s no use dwelling on it. We’re back in Chicago now, which means we’re back to being boss and assistant, maybe friends who chat once in a while.

It will be just like old times.

~

Or so I thought. But I was wrong.

I can pretend that I never had sex with Stella, but I can’t forget about it. It’s been a week since we got back from Switzerland, and yet each time she walks into my office, all I can think of is how amazing she looked in bed. Or on the couch. Or in the shower.

Like right now.

Fuck.

Why did I agree never to have sex with her again? I can’t remember.

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, sir?” she asks.

Sir. She’s been calling me that since we came back, even more than before we left for Switzerland. Why? To remind me about our agreement? Of the fact that I can’t have her?

If only I could.

“Let me check,” I say as I go through the papers on my desk.