The Baby the Billionaire Demands

But they hadn’t. Even that big check hadn’t made them want to talk to her.

Lola’s heart twisted, but she turned away with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. Eventually I’ll get through to them.” Biting her lip, she looked up. “Though it would be easier if we lived here in New York instead of California...”

His face shuttered. “No.”

Tilting her head, Lola said thoughtfully, “Did you know that as the film industry is increasingly a worldwide market, New York has become a hotbed of media companies that will dominate the future of the entertainment business?”

Rodrigo looked as if he were fighting a smile. “You just made that up.”

Her lips quirked. “It could be true.”

Rodrigo snorted, shaking his head. Then, as they’d left the toy store, he’d said quietly, “I’m sorry, querida, but we live in California. Enjoy your time here while it lasts.”

Now, as they stood in the hallway of Tess’s new co-op building, Lola looked at her husband, her heart in her throat.

Enjoy your time while it lasts.

Would their marriage last? Or would that, too, soon end?

Every time Rodrigo gets close to a woman, he sabotages it... He actually married you. So the devastation will be twice as crushing when it comes.

“Well?” he said sharply, standing in front of the penthouse door. “You were so worried about getting here on time. What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing.” But as Lola lifted her hand to knock, she heard people laughing inside the apartment, and hesitated.

Looking at the huge diamond ring on her left hand, she suddenly wished she’d told Tess and Hallie the news of her marriage over the phone. Earlier, she’d grinned at the thought of seeing the shock on their faces, that Lola, the one who’d bossed the other two girls into telling their ex-lovers about their babies, had suddenly—without warning—married her own baby’s father.

Because, unlike her friends, Lola had always refused to reveal the identity of her baby’s father. Hallie and Tess had crazy theories about who Jett’s father might be—that the man was married or some kind of criminal. Tess was especially good at coming up with eye-popping theories.

She hadn’t wanted to tell them the simple truth, that Jett’s father was Lola’s old boss. She’d been trying to forget his existence, and thought if she didn’t say Rodrigo’s name, she wouldn’t think about him, either.

But now, she felt like she was springing the news on her friends out of nowhere. Hey, you know how I stubbornly refused to tell you anything about Jett’s father? Well, here he is! And he’s a Spanish billionaire! Ha-ha! And guess what? We’re married!

Well, Lola consoled herself wryly, at least the two women wouldn’t be able to complain about having yet another bridesmaid’s dress gathering dust in their closets for eternity.

Squaring her shoulders, she knocked hard on the door.

A moment later, it opened, and she saw Tess’s beaming, pink-cheeked face, her red hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“Lola!” she squealed. She turned to call over her shoulder, “Hallie! Lola’s here!”

The brunette came quickly, almost at a run. Lola came inside carrying Jett, Rodrigo following a moment behind her, pushing the empty stroller. Helping her and the baby off with their winter coats, he disappeared behind the closet door. Tess’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Lola, her eyes full of questions.

“I like your new place, Tess,” Lola said evasively, looking around the gorgeous penthouse, with two-story windows overlooking most of snowy Central Park. “But where’s your furniture?”

“It hasn’t arrived from Italy yet. We’ve only just got the keys.” She glanced back at her husband, who’d come up behind her. “Stefano wanted to wait and host New Year’s Eve instead—”

“But Tess insisted on Thanksgiving,” the Sicilian prince said, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist, who giggled.

“I’ll host New Year’s Eve,” Hallie’s husband, Cristiano, yelled from the next room.

“Anyway.” Rolling her eyes, Tess turned to Lola. “We had to have the meal catered, but I knew you and Hallie wouldn’t care if we sat on folding chairs. Love is what matters, right?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Stefano said, nuzzling his wife. Then he seemed to remember they were surrounded by people, and straightened. His eyes focused on Rodrigo, who’d just closed the closet door. “Cabrera? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Rodrigo Cabrera!” Tess exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I knew I recognized you!”

“Hey, Zacco.” Looking at Tess, he said politely, “Thank you for the invitation to Thanksgiving.”