Billionaire's Baby Contract (Hawthorne Brothers 1)

That puts my humor out. I grit my teeth.

Asher…

“Maybe we should just have it include something about Violet not being allowed to sue us for sexual harassment if she starts sleeping with Asher and things go wrong,” Ryker says.

Asher turns to him. “Are you jinxing me?”

“But in return, if she does get pregnant, Asher will take full responsibility,” Ryker adds.

Asher finally falls silent as he brings his martini to his lips. Is he saying nothing because he approves of Ryker’s suggestion?

I drink my Scotch.

Ryker’s idea doesn’t sound bad, actually. If Ryker makes a mistake, the company doesn’t suffer. And neither does Violet. If she gets pregnant, he’ll…

My thoughts stop in their tracks as an idea takes over.

What if I offer Stella a contract as well?

Marriage doesn’t seem right for either of us, but what if I propose a different arrangement? She wants a child. I need one. What if I ask her to bear my child? I’ll make sure she’s exceptionally well compensated, of course. I’ll even toss in a villa in Switzerland to sweeten the deal. And she can keep her job if she wants to, though I’ll reduce her hours and workload, maybe take on another assistant to carry most of her burden so she can focus on raising a child. Needless to say, I’ll make sure no one knows she’s the mother of my child. That way, her reputation won’t suffer and my child will have a more private, normal life.

Apart from bearing and raising my child, the only other thing she has to do is promise not to see anyone else for a while. I don’t want another man hanging around my child until he’s at least ten. Twenty if it’s a daughter.

I’ll never have to marry. My father’s much more concerned about having a grandchild – or two – than about me having a wife. And I’ll have at least one heir. As for Stella, she’ll have a happy life. She’ll be a mother, which is what she’s always wanted. She can travel around the world with the money I give her. She can continue working for me if she loves her job that much, or she can be a writer or anything else she wants to be. And she doesn’t have to end up getting married to a jerk.

She wins. I win, especially since the contract means I’ll get to have sex with her again. And again. As many times as it takes to get her pregnant.

“You’re grinning,” Asher observes out loud. “Is it because you still think Violet isn’t going to sleep with me?”

“Not everything is about you, Asher,” I tell him.

This is about me and Stella. If she agrees to it, that is, though I can’t see why she won’t.

I can’t wait to talk to her about it.

Chapter Seventeen

Stella

Where are we?

I follow Ethan past a pair of doors and find myself in a luxurious space with crystal chandeliers hanging from a high ceiling and red velvet curtains on the fringes of huge glass windows that look out into the city. The carpet that covers the floor is red as well, but a deeper shade.

At first, I think it’s a restaurant because I spot a man in coattails and white gloves with a silver tray, but then I realize that the chairs are not arranged around tables like in a dining area. Rather, there are small round tables in between large, cozy armchairs, some with lamps perched on them. There are also low tables in front of divans and couches just like in a living room setting.

Is this some kind of lounge?

I follow Ethan across the room and up a winding staircase. At the top, another man in coattails leads us to a door. He opens it and I see a large table with a spread of food. There’s a smaller one with two chairs right next to the window that has just a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Just two?

As soon as the waiter or the butler or whatever he is leaves, I turn to Ethan.

“You said you were meeting someone important,” I tell him.

That’s the only reason I agreed to accompany him on a Saturday evening.

“I don’t see anyone else here.”

“I am meeting someone.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it on a peg. “You.”

I frown. Is this some kind of joke? Aren’t we supposed to carry on just as boss and assistant? Then why does this look like a date?

“Don’t worry,” Ethan tells me. “This place only has a small number of elite clientele, none of whom have a fondness for cheap gossip.”

Which means no one will find out we’re here.

Wait. Isn’t that more troubling? What’s with all the secrecy? Did he bring me here to seduce me?

“And no. I promise I’m not going to do anything to you, so please sit.”