Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother's Baby (a Stepbrother Romance Novel)

C
opyright
© 2015 by Emilia Beaumont

P
ublished
by Elwynn Cottage

A
ll rights reserved
.

N
o part
of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Y
our support
of author’s rights is appreciated.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

P
lease be
aware that this work was previously published as three separate volumes:

I
was dreading going home
. After all, it wasn’t really my home, but now I was here, and there was no turning back. It had been too long.

My old car slipped through the iron gates and creaked onto the driveway. I turned the key, and the car’s engine died, shuddering to a halt as black smoke puffed out of the exhaust. I patted the leather steering wheel in a gesture of thanks - this old wreck had managed not to break down once the whole journey here. I was actually surprised the ancient lump of metal made it; the back seat was crammed with my worldly belongings, a heavy burden upon the crumbling chassis.

I sat behind the wheel for a moment, summoning courage for the battle ahead, and sighed. I would need to plaster a smile upon my face and pretend everything around me wasn’t going to shit.

I looked up at the enormous house before me. Birthday banners hung from the porch, announcing a very special 50th birthday party happening inside. The banners were garish and tacky, not something you’d expect to see pinned outside a multimillion dollar house, but then again, it wasn’t as if Barbara, my stepmother and the birthday girl, was the height of class. She tried – oh god, how she tried, what with all the parties she threw – but she could never quite pull it off. After all, it wasn’t even her money, not really.

Bitter thoughts continued to swirl around in my head, and I wanted to scream. I hated thinking like that, but with the way my life was going, even though I’d worked my butt off at school, it always seemed as if I was taking one step forward and five back. I wanted to be positive, and I so desperately hoped for things to change, but nope, here I was back
home
with my tail between my legs – a failure.

I grabbed my bag and the meagre last-minute present for Barbara from the car. The rest of my things could wait - I still didn’t know if they’d let me stay - and I slowly made my way up to the front door, my stomach churning.

Should I ring the bell? Or let myself in?

Before I could figure out what to do, the door swung open. I should’ve known he’d be there, should’ve expected it - it was his mother’s birthday after all - but nothing could’ve prepared me for this moment. Drake looked down at me, and his smile faded instantly as he recognised my face.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said and scowled. Not even a hello, I thought and took a small step back. I could still turn around and get back in my car and leave. Obviously, I wasn’t wanted. I guess I was still in his bad books. Admittedly, I probably deserved it. I’d wounded his pride in refusing his money and the gifts he tried to shower me with, but the way he’d waved his wealth around had made me sick, like his money could instantly fix all of my problems. And it probably would have, in truth, but dammit, I’d been determined to look after myself.

It was petty, but if I couldn’t have him, then I didn’t want anything else do with him. How could he not realise that?

“Hi, Drake. Good to see you, too,” I mocked. But in reality, it
was
good to see him, the face I’d dreamed about since high school. His straight, gorgeous nose, lusciously kissable lips, and those moody grey eyes that sent uncontrollable shivers down my spine every time… God, I was pathetic.

Drake glanced over to the driveway and scoffed.

“What?” I spat.

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that thing. It’s nearly older than me. Bet you’re regretting not taking the car I bought for you.”

“Zip it, Drake,” I replied. The last thing I needed was him to rub it in my face on how
well
I was doing.

He held up his hands in mock submission and let out a breath. “I give in, Vi. I get it – you don’t want anything to do with me or my money. So why are you here?”

“That’s between my father and me,” I replied.

“Fine.”

“Fine!” I shouted and put my hands on my hips.

“Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said. If I took a step over that threshold, that would be it. I would be admitting defeat, coming home for help. Penniless and homeless.

Drake rolled his eyes. “Hurry up and figure it out, just don’t go making a scene - this isn’t your day.”

I shook my head. He was such a mommy’s boy, but I knew I was being harsh; he wasn’t the one who’d cut himself off from his family voluntarily.

Drake always knew how to get under my skin and bring all my guilt to the surface. He’d always had that effect upon me and now, whenever I was around him, my hackles went up instantly, on the defensive, ready for a fight.

Drake walked away, leaving the door wide open, and I watched as his legs worked, his butt muscles clenched, displayed perfectly in his expensive slacks. My throat thickened, and my heartbeat thumped.

Forget it, Viola. You can never have him. Not ever again.

Not that I had him in the first place - it was just one kiss years ago at a high school party, and I’m sure he only did it because it’d been a dare – a drunken game of
Dare
.

Oh, but how I’d longed for that kiss to mean so much more. The deep kiss on the lips that had lasted longer than it should have as our mouths opened and the tips of our tongues met. He soon pulled away as the giggles beyond the closet doors escalated, and his girlfriend, Christine, banged heavily on the wood, demanding that we come out.

That kiss had sustained me all through my final years of high school, hoping my luck would turn and praying that one day they’d break up, and it would be my turn. But they never did. Christine kept her claws deep within him, keeping him hostage from me. Every so often, I’d catch him looking my way and hope would blossom all over again, but to my disappointment, he never made a move.

And then the worst thing – something I could never have imagined, not in my scariest nightmares – happened. My dad fell in love with and married Drake’s mother. It was torture. It
is
torturous! ‘Cause the longing had never subsided. I sighed.

“Viola? Is that you?” My dad, Henry, did a double-take at the door as he was passing through the hallway.

“Hi, Dad.” There was no way I was going to be able to back away now.

I smiled sheepishly as he approached with his arms open. I closed the gap between us and buried myself in his arms, biting my lip, urging myself not to cry. His protective arms gave me a squeeze. I could’ve stayed there forever with my face smushed up against his chest. Why had I waited so long before coming home?

“I can’t believe you’re here, are you OK?” The smile that was on his lips faded away as he took in my face. His forehead wrinkled, and his eyes narrowed.

“What’s happened, Vi? Tell me.”

“Viola! What are you doing here? I thought Drake was pulling my leg, but here you are, on our doorstep,” Barbara squealed in an utterly fake voice as she sauntered down the hallway, the hem of her summer dress – designed for a much younger woman – swaying from side to side.

Barbara, my dad’s third wife, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and looked me up and down, trying her best to keep the false grin plastered upon her face.

“Happy Birthday, Barbara,” I said.

I hoped she’d get distracted and leave my dad and me to talk, because now that I was here, all I could think of doing was having a good old heart-to-heart with him.

“Thank you, sweetie!” She beamed and fluttered a manicured hand in the air as if she were trying to shoo away her advancing years. “This is such a nice surprise. Isn’t it a nice surprise, Henry? So thoughtful for you to come for a visit on my birthday.”

My dad nodded; he allowed Barbara to muscle in between us and take control of my hand, pulling me forward into the house.

“Is that for me?” she asked, noticing the small, hastily wrapped parcel.

I nodded and handed it over, and she grinned.

“You shouldn’t have, but I wonder what it could be,” Barbara squealed.

In truth, I’d almost forgotten about Barbara’s birthday. It was only when I’d stopped to fill the car up with petrol and passed a row of birthday cards as I was going to pay that I remembered it was her 50th. Barbara and I have never hit it off, most likely because we’ve never spent enough time getting to know each other, but I would’ve felt like a right cow if I’d turned up asking for help and hadn’t even remembered her birthday. The cheap earrings I’d found in a pawn shop close to the petrol station were all I could afford, but it was the thought that counted, right? And perhaps they’d get me into her good graces. How silly of me to think that.

“I’ll put it with the other gifts and open it later.”

Barbara escorted me through the house, my dad trailing behind, towards the party noises coming from the garden out back.

“So, what have you been doing with yourself? We hardly hear from you nowadays. You’re looking a bit run down, to tell you the truth. Have you put on weight?”

The barrage of questions was never-ending. This woman was the last person I wanted to discuss my woes with.

“Yeah, a little bit,” I said, wrapping my arms around my pudgy middle and looking to my dad to rescue me. I wanted to break down and run from the house. How dare she comment on my weight? Eugh! I felt bad enough as it was - was she purposely trying to make me cry?

“Well, you’ll never find a man if you don’t look after yourself. You are still single, aren’t you?”

Salt, meet wound.

My teeth clamped down upon my tongue. If I were a cartoon, there’d be steam bursting from my ears. I couldn’t cry - I wouldn’t!

“Yes, I’m single,” I replied curtly.

Drake hovered by the patio doors, glancing over at us every so often, and I felt mortified. I didn’t want him to hear how crappy my love life was.

“Still time, of course,” she continued, “but you aren’t getting any younger. You’re 24 now, right?”

She shook her head and didn’t let me answer. “By the time I was your age I was already married and pregnant with my little Drakie - not so little now, of course. Come here darling,” she beckoned Drake over, and I groaned. He did as he was told, playing the dutiful son, and stood by his mother’s side.

“Don’t you want kids?” Barbara asked. Her piercing blue eyes dared me to say no.

My mouth fell open. Two minutes in this house, and I was already being interrogated about my life choices… or lack thereof.

Of course I wanted children. It was my dream to become a mom - to do it right, though, unlike my own. I wanted it all; I wanted the right man, a partner I could depend on, and I wanted to feel secure.

“Now, Barb, she only just got here,” my dad chirped in from behind.

“Don’t be silly, Viola doesn’t mind me asking. Do you, honey?”

“No, it’s fine,” I lied. “Having lots of children is my dream,” I said quietly.

“Mom, leave her be,” Drake said, surprising me and rescuing me from further embarrassment. His eyes locked onto mine, and I could’ve sworn he smiled at me. “It’s none of our business. But of course, I don’t know where I would be without my Leah.”

My stomach twisted with jealousy. Who was
Leah
? Last I’d heard, he and Christine were still together. But then, I had been voluntarily out of the loop for a long while.

“Who’s Leah?” I started to ask, and Drake’s whole demeanour brightened.

As if on cue a tall, gorgeous, ridiculously skinny woman who could be a runway model if she wanted, glided towards our little gathering. Drake couldn’t keep his eyes off her. I watched him as he tracked her movements, her long golden legs moving effortlessly. His features softened, and the adoration in his eyes was sickening.

I tried to look away, but as the woman got closer, I realised he wasn’t actually looking at her, but at a small, wriggling bundle she held in her arms.

“Here she is! My little bug,” he cooed and reached out to take the most precious baby I’d ever seen.

“She wanted to see her daddy, Mr Millar,” the slender woman said. She had a hint of a foreign European accent. Sweden or Finland, I thought.

My eyes bulged in shock at the sight of Drake holding up this tiny creature – I could only assume she was his baby daughter – above his head.

“Vi, meet my darling daughter, Leah,” he said as our eyes met again, and a tingle at the back of my neck travelled down my spine.

Drake is a daddy?
Fuck me, I had missed a lot, and it made me want my step-brother even more.

My mind tried to wrap itself around the idea of Drake as a parent, but it was clear from the look on his face, the smile wrinkles around his eyes, that he was made for it. I felt my insides soften to warm mush as I watched him cradle his daughter. Love radiated off him. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel even a fraction of that love.

“I didn’t know,” I spluttered. It was my own doing, but guilt travelled up my throat, bringing with it the threat of tears, as I realised just how lonely I’d been without a family.

I quickly pulled myself together as I took in baby Leah. Her lashes were long, and she had stormy, soulful grey eyes, just like her father.

“She’s divine, Drake,” I crooned. My heart ached just looking at her as it longed for one of my own… one of his.

“Isn’t she?” he replied.

I stood with my arm pressed up against Drake’s to see Leah. His warmth radiated through the layers of clothing between us, and it felt like the three of us had fallen into our own little world. I’d almost forgotten about my dad and step-mom and the woman who’d carried Leah – they were on the periphery, watching us. For just a moment I’d let myself imagine that she was mine, that
he
was mine. But it was a foolish endeavour, and the inappropriateness of the situation quickly dawned upon me. I stepped away from daddy and daughter.

“Sorry, we haven’t met. You must be Leah’s mom?” I asked, trying to regain some semblance of reality as I took in the model-esque female before me.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she giggled. “Oh, no, you are mistaken. I am Mr Millar’s assistant.”

“Sigrid’s been kind enough to help me take care of Leah until I find the right nanny,” Drake clarified. I know it shouldn’t have been my first thought, but my immediate reaction was delight that this beauty was not Leah’s mother - she’d not made a baby with Drake. Thank god for that!