The Billionaire's Fake Girlfriend: Part 3 (The Billionaire Saga 3)

He had almost made it when I stuck my head out the door.

“You’re canceling the Takahari merger?”

His whole face brightened with relief. “Rebecca—”

“You can’t do that! He was your father’s big client, and you’re so close. Why on earth would you try to back out now? I absolutely forbid it.”

He completely ignored any reference to the business and rushed back as close as he dared while Amanda and Barry hovered protectively behind me. “I know you didn’t try to get pregnant.” His face was flushed and earnest. “It was the worst thing I could have said—blurted in a moment I know I’ll regret forever—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it in the slightest. I…I know you.” He reached tentatively for my hand. “I know you’d never do that.”

I kept my hands to myself. “Then why did you say it?”

His face softened thoughtfully. “Rebecca, did I ever tell you my mom was a librarian?”

I hesitated. “No, you didn’t.”

“She was working full-time while she finished grad school on a scholarship. She’d won a working internship with an archeological dig in Cairo, and she was headed there right after graduation. It was her dream—to be a jet-setting anthropologist. Then…she met my dad.”

He

stifled a small sigh.

“He was just an up-and-coming financial investor trying to make a name for himself when they met and fell in love. They’d been together only a few months when he suddenly hit it big and landed himself on the cover of Forbes. At the same time, she got pregnant.”

My stomach seized up, and I held my breath. I thought I knew where this was going.

“The press was relentless. Pegged her as a lying little harlot, trying to anchor him down now that he had money. Called her…” He met my eyes briefly before glancing away. “Called her all sorts of things. It made a wedge between them. He started to believe what he heard; she started to go a little mad. When she finally died in the Westwood facility, she died with regrets. She never got to live her dream. And I don’t want to take your dream away from you. I know how much you want to be an actress.”

This time, when he offered his hands, I took them.

“Rebecca…I lashed out because I thought I saw history repeating itself, and that terrified me. I had to blame it on you because I couldn’t be that guy. The guy who went out and got a girl pregnant…and took her life away. Not like my father. Not like my mom.”

I pulled in a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I stared into his eyes. “I got pregnant…because we had sex. And sometimes birth control fails.”

“I know that,” he said softly.

“And I didn’t take the drink—”

“I’m glad you didn’t take the drink.” He flashed me a tender smile. “It proves that you’re going to be an awesome mother. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching the entire night. And I’ve come to a realization.”

“What?”

“Remember what you said to me, right before we went to the club? It was a while back. But you asked me, ‘What’s truly important to you as a man? Simply ask yourself, what’s truly important to you?’”

“I said if nothing’s coming to you, don’t worry. Just keep thinking. I’ll ask you later. Just be completely honest.”

“And I finally know the answer to that question.”

“What is it?”

“To be the best husband and father that I can be. To put my family above my job, to give them everything they need; to love them to the best of my ability. I want a family more than anything. I want a wife to kiss on Christmas morning. I want to watch our children rip wrapping paper off their presents while we all sit by a big, roaring fire in robes.”

“Drinking hot chocolate?”

“Or eggnog.”