Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother's Baby (a Stepbrother Romance Novel) (7 page)

D
rake’s offices were downtown
, not too far away from the main bus station, a fifteen minute walk at the most. As I approached the building, I wondered what I’d feel seeing his face again. Elation? Anger? And how would he react to me? Would I even be allowed in the building?

Whirls of anxious butterflies floated in my belly, a deadly combination of nerves and nausea. But I knew I couldn’t turn back now. I needed to get at least some cash to hold off Freddy, and Drake had never paid for the time I’d looked after Leah - although I’d have done it for free in a heartbeat – and he had taken my admittedly wreck of a car off my hands without reimbursing me for it.

The interior of the company lobby was cool and slick; cream Italian tiles covered every surface imaginable. Even the front desk was tastefully decorated in the stuff.

A receptionist behind the desk watched as I approached, no doubt scrutinising my lack of a fashionable ensemble. Her heavily made-up eyes drifted up and down my dowdy clothes and raised her curved, dark-blonde eyebrow at me in disgust.

I cleared my throat and smiled in an attempt to be friendly.

“Can I help you?” she interrupted before I could get a word in.

“Actually, yes you can. I’d like to see Drake Millar, please,” I replied, trying my best to stand tall in my worn out trainers in front of this A+ specimen of a woman.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Ah, well, no. But tell him Viola is here.”

“Oh, if you’re not on the schedule then I’m afraid he won’t be able to see
you
,” She said, dragging out the last word with a sneer.

My smile faltered. I’d had enough of this gatekeeper who thought she was almighty and powerful behind her marble fortress.

“How about you let him decide that?” I said and leaned over the counter. “Pick up the phone and ask him.”

The receptionist leaned back in her seat, a little daunted by my forcefulness. The bitch didn’t know who she was dealing with, I thought. I’d had enough being looked down upon because I didn’t fit the general status quo. And I was going to see Drake today if it meant going room to room to find him.

Her hand wavered over the dash panel of her switchboard as if she reconsidering my request.

“I don’t have all day, call him!” I almost yelled, but managed to keep my tone even.

She probably could have called security and thrown my hostile ass out on the pavement, but thankfully she thought twice about doing so.

“I have a Viola here to see you… Mhm. Yes, Mr Millar, I won’t let her,” she said sweetly into her mouth piece that hung off the side of her angular cheekbones. She gave me a look that could kill. For a moment I believed the one-sided conversation I’d heard meant that he didn’t want to see me. Had I made a terrible mistake coming here?

“He’ll be right with you. He told me not to allow you to leave,” she continued, the sickly fake voice hating the words she was saying.

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows that were in desperate need of a waxing. He wanted me to stay? Maybe the dread I’d been feeling wasn’t warranted, I considered.

As I waited, I studied the woman behind the desk. She never gave me a second glance, keeping her hands busy and eyes focused elsewhere; it was as if I didn’t even exist anymore. Did Drake find comfort in surrounding himself with cold women? What he saw in Christine I would never know. I was like her polar opposite. I still couldn’t understand why on earth he’d slept with me, and not just once, either. Had I just been convenient? A change from the norm? I was beginning to think so.

Lost in thought, I didn’t hear him approach.

“Vi,” he said. He didn’t sound pleased or excited to see me. I turned to see him standing in all his glory – crisp grey suit, not a wrinkle on him, and a neutral face. There were bags under his eyes, making his eye sockets look hollower than they really were. Stormier, drained and miserable. The sparkle glints that I’d fallen into while he’d been staring into my soul were gone.

“Follow me.”

Sombre, I did as I was told and trailed behind him, passing through an archway, then another, and finally through a heavy door into his expansive office.

I’d never been to his offices before, never had the need until now. The room was in stark contrast to his Spartan penthouse apartment, filled with deep, rich and dark leather sofas, wood panelling and an expansive desk made of old, smooth wood that matched the style of the door.

There were more knick-knacks dotted around too, little bronze sculptures and countless silver photo frames with a cute little face that I recognised and sorely missed. I picked one of the frames up and stared at her chubby cheeks and toothless smile; it was a recent photo of her. She’d grown. It’d only been a month, but her eyes were bigger, full of wonder, and her chestnut hair was thickening.

“Why are you here, Vi?” His tone was ice cold. It was almost enough to make me shiver. I put the frame back down onto the circular console table and turned to face him. He’d stood behind his desk, glaring at me from a distance, putting a symbolic blockade between us.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. He was reserved and withdrawn. I thought he’d at least ask how I was, where I’d been… Not even a hug.

The way he was staring at me made me want to retreat. My plan had been to ask for what I was owed and potentially broach the subject of my pregnancy if I summoned enough courage. But the latter was looking less and less likely.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll go,” I said and moved towards the door.

I heard him groan behind me, in impatience, and frustration perhaps.

“Goddamit, Vi. Wait.”

Go or stay? I longed to talk to him, I’d been in voluntary isolation and all I wanted was to go back to that sunny morning when everything was perfect, and he didn’t look at me like he hated me.

Moving fast, he managed to block my exit, putting himself between me and the door. A waft of his cologne drifted past, and my legs shook. My arousal peaked as I breathed his musky rich scent in deeply.

“You’re here for a reason. What is it?”

“Why are you being so mean to me?” I cried, fed up with his abrupt tone.

“Why do you think?” he said, his jaw clenched. “You left when I asked you to stay.”

“You know I couldn’t stay. Be realistic, Drake!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. How could he not realise the shattered state I would’ve been in had I not walked out the door?

I paced deeper into the office, needing to put a few more feet between us. He’d been too close, close enough to touch, and I couldn’t trust myself. I had to remember I was there for a specific purpose.

Eye on the prize, Vi!

Drake silently closed the door so our conversation would not be overheard, and my heart rate jolted sky-high. Just the thought of being trapped in here with him was a recipe for disaster. It made my skin feel like it was on fire.

“Look, Drake. I only came to get what I’m owed.”

“What you’re owed?” he parroted.

“My wages for looking after Leah,” I explained.

“You were hardly there! It was a few hours at the most.”

“What about the cost of my car then?” I asked.

He shook his head and skirted around the room towards me. “You must be desperate if you’ve come to me asking for money… What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just write me a cheque, and I’ll go. Or better yet, if you have the cash I’ll take that instead. You’ll never have to see me again, as it’s obvious you’re not pleased to see me now!”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because you’re shouting at me!” I yelled back. Coming here, I realised, was a huge mistake.

“Never mind, I’m going,” I said and exhaled a breath. It was as if all the tension in the room was flowing directly through me and I had to get out.

My hand reached for the door knob, but before I could pull it open, his hand covered mine. Ripples of pleasure swam up my arm igniting a longing between my legs. I whipped my hand away as if I’d been electrocuted.

His body towered over mine; he was too close. His familiar smell was causing all sorts of chain reactions in my body. Bloody hormones reacting to his whole presence. I swallowed the knot in my throat as my eyes found their way to his.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said and launched himself at me, his hard body slamming into my tender breasts as he pushed me closer towards the wall. Bumping and knocking into furniture, I tried to outpace him, but it was no use, the gap was closed again, and my back hit the wall.

He studied my face for a moment, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathed loudly. Holding back ‘til he couldn’t any more.

“Drake, this is not what I came for,” I said in a whisper.

“Liar,” he returned. And all at once his lips were on mine, taking my breath away.

M
y hands found
his strong chest. I wanted to peel his suit and shirt off him, to see what was underneath again. I craved to run my fingertips over his smooth chest and rock-hard abs, to feel his warm skin up against mine.

But with the remaining shred of willpower I had left I pushed him with my flattened palms away from my aching body. It was the most unnatural thing to do when every part of my screamed to be close to him, to have him once again.

I gasped for air as our lips parted. Drake looked down at me quizzically. My mind reeled, and like a tug-of-war, it tried to decide whether or not to tell him about the life I was carrying inside me.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, and his mouth enveloped mine again before I could say a word. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I moaned. It was what I wanted, he knew that, I knew that. So why was I resisting?

Oh, yeah, right. Christine and that other thing…

“You can’t have me and her,” I said as I pulled away. His lips trailed down my neck, his hands tugging at my neckline, exposing my collarbone. It felt wonderful to be touched again, to feel wanted, and I melted as he kissed his way down to my cleavage.

“I don’t want her, though. I want you.”

“You can’t have me, Drake. You’re my stepbrother…” I moaned again as pain and pleasure shot through me while his fingers found my taut nipples, rubbing them, beading them under his rough touch. He didn’t realise how sensitive they were feeling, a side effect of the pregnancy, of course.

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t care,” he breathed. He lifted the hem of my shirt up to expose my fleshy tummy and pressed his lips against my skin. I wasn’t showing yet, but I still felt self-consciousness about my roundness.

“Drake, stop,” I said, running my fingers through his hair whilst he was on his knees. My hands slipped down the sides of his face and urged him skyward. “I need to talk to you.”

Drake rose to his feet, his hands skimming up my hips, past my waist, encouraging me to lift up my arms as he peeled off my top.

The tops of my breasts spilled over the cups of my bra as he squeezed generous handfuls. “Drake…” I moaned, not wanting him to stop but desperately trying to say the words that would change everything.

“Shh,” he demanded. “I’ve missed you so much, there’s no time for talk.” In a swift motion he scooped me up, his biceps bulging and straining under his suit jacket. I was still amazed how he had the strength to pick me up. He whisked me over to the couch and rested me down slowly, as if I were a delicate item he was taking care of… little did he know of course I was carrying something most definitely precious inside me.

Drake removed his jacket, letting it crumple on the floor. I could only imagine the cost of such fine material and had to resist picking it up and finding a hanger. Instead I watched, mesmerised, as he rapidly undid the buttons of his shirt.

I licked my lips as he revealed his bare chest. Was I really going to do this again? Let myself get sucked back into a relationship that was doomed to fail? That could never be announced in normal society?

Resting a hand on the sofa and a knee between my open legs, Drake hovered over me. He moved to kiss me again, but I managed to dodge it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, caressing the side of my turned cheek.

My eyes filled with pin prickles of pain. Tears tumbled over my lids and onto my face.

With thumb and forefinger he held my chin and made me look at him. The sparkle in his eyes had returned, if only for a brief moment.
My
Drake was buried under there somewhere, waiting to be released, and I couldn’t help but think this news would bring a light back into him. Whatever Christine had been doing to him was obviously not good for his soul.

“Vi?” his face had turned to stone, serious. “Whatever it is, I can help you. Let me help you this one time?”

I took a deep breath. There was no chance of me leaving this room without telling him, I subconsciously knew that the moment I arrived. I wanted to tell him.

“I’m pregnant,” I said, almost whispering and watched for the minutest of facial movements, waiting for some semblance of a reaction.

“What?”

The side of my lips curled upward a fraction. “I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”

He propelled himself off the couch and stood stock still like he’d just witnessed Medusa and turned to solid stone.

Behind him the door opened, and I scrambled to cover myself up, looking for my top, but it was nowhere in sight. I reached for the next best thing, Drake’s jacket, but I miscalculated the distance and fell to my knees as my worst nightmare walked in, again.

“Drakie? Why’s your door closed?” Christine called as she entered the room. She stopped, taking in the scene, her eyes moving from my position on the floor, half naked, to Drake standing above me.

“What the hell is going on in here?” she cried, her voice screeching a note only dogs could hear. “You!” Christine pointed her finger at me as if it were a lethal weapon. “Get out of here now.”

I got to my feet, my mind scrambled, face flushed from embarrassment. As if on auto-pilot, I collected my wayward top from the corner and pulled it on, ready to leave with my head bowed.

Drake looked as if he was still processing the earlier information I’d managed to force out, and his puzzled face grew only more creased when Christine had burst through the door.

“Vi, I told you you’re not going anywhere,” he warned as I approached the door.

“Of course she is, the little slut. Get her out of here Drake!” Christine stomped her heeled foot like a three year old who wouldn’t share her toy.

“No she isn’t, Chris. What are you doing here, anyway?” he snarled, with not a whiff of kindness.

“I… I thought to bring you lunch to make up for the fight last night, but then I catch you with her,” she said, pouting. “I knew something was going on.”

I was stuck between them again, not knowing where to turn.

“Maybe I should go.”

“Yes!”

“No,” Drake replied, and he moved beside me; his hand reached for my arm and pulled me behind him.

My heart lifted, my eyes wide with hope.

“Get out of here, Christine. I told you last night we’re through.”

“But my money?”

“You won’t get another penny from me. You or your business partner. Or should I say lover? Did you really think the two of you could pull the wool over my eyes again, Christine?”

“But—”

“Enough! I gave you another chance for Leah’s sake, but you blew that too. Now get out!”

Drake released the clamp-like hold he had on my arm and rushed a couple of steps towards Christine. She shrieked and left, bumping into the receptionist under an archway as she trotted away.

“Everything OK in here Mr Millar? Do you want me to call security?”

Drake turned to me, pulling me into his arms. “No, Patricia, that won’t be necessary.” He smoothed the side of my face with one hand; the other caressed over my growing tummy. “Everything is perfect now.”