The British Billionaire's Baby (12 page)

Within moments, she was tearing at his pajama shirt, almost popping the buttons in her anxiousness to bear his chest. He held her against him with first one arm and then the other, allowing the garment to slide from his shoulders and onto the floor. At this point, the paint flecked over his lover’s skin was beginning to smear over his own as well, but Sebastian hardly cared.

His fingers curling possessively into her behind, he growled almost primly against her throat as he yanked down his silk drawstring pants to free his aching erection. As it bobbed up in between them, Gabby groaned, clutching at his hair desperately as he all but stumbled forward until he was pressing her back flush against the nearest wall.

It took Sebastian a few torturous moments to rearrange the woman in his arms, parting his hips from hers for long enough to set the crest of his cock at her entrance. The inviting heat of her drove him near mad. This time, he didn’t have the wherewithal to tease her and surged forward, pinning Gabby between the wall and his thrust as she cried out loudly.

“
Shhhh
.” The earl’s hand rose to cover her mouth firmly as his opposite hand held her tight against him. His thighs flexed as Gabrielle’s inner muscles flexed agonizingly around him. As much as he would like to pound into her with abandon, they had to remember that his mother and father were in the house – and if he knew anything about his mother, she was probably awake and scheming. They would have to be discreet.

Slowly, he began to rock his hips against hers, relishing the buzzing moans that spilled from Gabby’s mouth against his hand. Her quim squeezed him like a vice and he grunted as his head dropped against her shoulder. He vowed in that moment, with her surrounding him in a mind blowing cocoon of wet, fertile warmth, that he didn’t give a damn about her demands. He would be inside of her every night for as long as they were together. Anything less would be depriving both of them of something they sorely needed:

Stress relief.

He felt his name whispered desperately against his palm as his pace increased. Though he had effectively muffled Gabby’s cries of pleasure, he could not prevent the low thudding their hips made every time they struck the wall. He found the sound only heightened his passions and drove even deeper into her. Gabby’s eyes widened as she clutched at him wildly, her fingernails drawing furrows over his back and biceps. With every thrust, she pressed her body up against his so he hardly had to hold her. She was like a wild thing – taking everything he offered and still demanding more.

Sebastian knew he wouldn’t last long. As Gabrielle began to quiver against him, a hitching gasp escaping her, he drove into her powerfully once – twice – three times more before he erupted within her, spilling his seed into her grasping womb.

She went limp against him, her head falling back against the wall as his hand finally slid from her mouth. Gabrielle was a vision before him – deliciously spent – and the sight was almost enough to make him harden again within her.

But he knew she must be exhausted. Sleepless nights along with the pressure of media appearances and his mother’s awful lording over them had taken its toll. She needed her rest now. As Sebastian slipped from her, he tried to tell himself that his concern for her stemmed from an ingrained concern for the child she carried. Gabby’s health and the baby’s were inexorably linked.

However, as he wrapped her in his nightshirt, carrying her back down the stairs toward the bedroom, he realized that he had felt the same protective instinct towards the young woman even before he’d impregnated her. He’d felt it the moment he’d met her at
Estelle’s
back in SoHo, and somehow, he’d never been able to shake it.

Sebastian tucked her into bed, drawing the blankets up to her chin before staring down at her face – lax in slumber. It was the most peaceful he’d seen her in weeks, and he resolved that, at least in their bedroom, he would try to keep things this way. After all, this was the one place they could get away from his mother’s prying eyes.

Six months, he reminded himself. Only six more months until they could sort this mess out. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow – and even though not a single camera was present to watch he and his “wife”, Sebastian pulled her close anyway – reflexively, his hand splayed protectively over her midsection.

**

She didn’t like her.

No, not at all.

Though she wore the sweetest of smiles as she stood next to her husband at the edge of a well-dressed throng, she was truly watching every move that Gabrielle Arnold made – and she didn’t like what she saw.

Oh, the girl looked the part well enough. Tonight was the Queen’s birthday party in the gardens of Buckingham Palace and she was clad in a tasteful gray silk Burberry gown that matched her eyes perfectly. She was pretty and polite, her hand constantly hovering on the small but every growing swell of her abdomen as she clung to Sebastian’s arm.

But she had slipped.

Oh yes, she had slipped a great many times.

On more than one occasion, she’d seen the girl strutting through the halls of the manor in the most atrocious clothing she’d ever laid eyes on; paint-stained and moldy, it looked like the little tart had fished the garments right out of a dumpster.

Though she claimed to have come from money, she certainly didn’t act like it. Her table manners were, at best, passable, and at worse, deplorable. She didn’t know the salad fork from the main, and she barely ever remembered to put her napkin in her lap. Perhaps it was just her brash American manners, but the more Amelia watched her, the more she became convinced that she was not what she claimed.

Which meant that she had lied to Sebastian, and by default, to the Hunter family and the world beyond. Amelia didn’t take very kindly to being lied to and was, even while she played her part at the event of the season, making plans to find out exactly who Gabrielle Arnold really was.

She would contact her father, first and foremost. One could often tell leagues about an individual by the way they had been raised, and Amelia intended to look into this rich oil baron and find exactly where it was that his money came from.

She supposed, for the current moment, she had nothing overt to worry about. Though the girl certainly wasn’t fooling her, she seemed to be doing quite well with the rest of London’s upper crust. The queen even paid her a compliment, calling her a great beauty. Lady Kate spoke of playdates for the children!

It was quickly becoming apparent that, even if the woman wasn’t what she seemed, the child would be a smash hit.
Her
grandchild would be the favorite playmate of the heir to the British throne! Who was to say that marriage wouldn’t be in the future! She’s always known that any child of Sebastian’s would be able to surpass even he in popularity.

It was just a shame that his chosen partner was so obviously low class. Sebastian had always had a fondness for gritty, common pleasures. He’d foolishly risked his life in the armed forces and come back some tanned, broad shouldered heathen. He stuck out like a sore thumb at every family function and Amelia had to thank God that her son at least had his intelligence and looks going for him.

It kept the public guessing, and the Hunter name at the forefront of current events. Sebastian, at the very least, was a media darling; and by default, his fame extended to his new wife.

Watching the ethnic girl laugh with Lady Kate as if she were one of the woman’s best companion’s made Amelia’s blood boil. If only there was a way to keep the child and get rid of the woman. She feared that if she kept Gabrielle around, the defiance that shone in her eyes would come to a head and she would force Sebastian to choose between them.

That, Amelia could most certainly not allow.

She would enjoy herself at the party tonight, and then, tomorrow, she would throw all of her resources into researching the girl’s past. She knew there was something there she could use to her advantage.

She just had to find it.

CHAPTER 7 - Luck

“Here is the head – and these are the ears.” Completely transfixed, Gabby stared at the ultrasound screen. Though she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the freezing cold jelly they smeared all over her belly, she could bear it if it was needed to show her some of the first images of her baby’s recognizable parts.

The pictures were clearer than she would have imagined, and as Dr. Bletchley showed her tiny arms and miniscule feet, she found herself on the edge of tears. Though she knew that they were only supposed to be holding hands for show, she found herself glad that Sebastian was sharing the moment with her, his blue eyes almost as wide as her own.

Dr. Bletchley was a short, squat man with ebony skin and greying curls. His easy smile, completely unlike Dr. Miller’s back in the city, had won over Gabby immediately. Additionally, he always apologized when he had to take a blood sample or endeavor upon any other procedure that would cause her discomfort.

It was as if he sensed her inherent nervousness around doctors and hospitals, and did his best to accommodate her.

Gabrielle glanced down at the now quite prominent swell of her belly. She was a full four months into her pregnancy and to say her clothes were beginning to be a bit of a problem would be an understatement. The dress that she’d worn to an inane award function just last week was beginning to pop at the seams.

“Would you like to know the sex of the child?” The doctor’s question sent ripples of excitement rushing through her – but Gabby had already made an important decision where the matter was concerned.

“No.”

Sebastian looked at her in surprise, a dark brow arched. “No?”

She shook her head firmly. “No. I want it to be a surprise.” It didn’t matter whether or not the baby was a boy or a girl. Not knowing would only heighten her excitement for her delivery date and she looked forward to the challenge of decorating a gender neutral nursery – even if she wouldn’t be seeing much of it after the baby’s birth.

“Are you certain?” Though the hormonal part of Gabby wanted to snap at him for his inquiry, it wasn’t in the least sharp or accusatory – like so many of his mother’s. On the contrary, whenever the man spoke to her about a decision she’d made concerning the baby, he was surprisingly diplomatic.

He was, she had to remind herself, not his mother – though some of the decisions he let her make boiled Gabby’s blood. With a small, secretive smile, she nodded.

He’d gotten better, she had to give him that. The man no longer stood by quite so idly and allowed his mother to ridicule her. On more than one occasion, he’d called Amelia out for a snide remark that might have flown completely over Gabby’s head and requested an apology.

While she always acquiesced with a certain amount of grace, the irritation in Amelia Hunter’s gaze was quite clear. She did not like Gabrielle – and Gabby detested her in return. They played a strange sort of game in the manor – who could be more deceptively cordial?

There were days Gabby only got through because she was imagining winding a noose around the woman’s throat, but she did her best not to show it. According to Sebastian, she was performing quite admirably.

She never would understand how he had done it himself – grown up with such an abrasive mother and a completely absent father. As far as she could see, the Duke of Raithwithe was on the edge of senility – barely able to keep to his feet and shuffle after his wife. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up with a mother who dictated your every move – who denied you even the simplest of childhood freedoms.

“What are you brooding about?”

She sat in the passenger side of the gleaming black Aston Martin that was Sebastian’s preferred vehicle, watching the streets of London rush past. The city was vast – larger even, than Manhattan and crowded with people from all walks of life. By this point, she’d been out in the throng several times on the way to functions and high class dinners – and she was no closer to getting her bearings.

Sebastian’s question jolted her from her thoughts as she looked over at him somewhat guiltily. She knew his mother was a tender subject – not only between the two of them but in general. “Nothing, really.”

“You think I can’t tell what you look like when you’re sour over something?” The man deftly navigated through one of the roundabouts that she swore were the devil incarnate. “You were smiling ridiculously when we left the doctor’s office and now you look as if someone’s salted your tea.”

Gabrielle sighed, frowning deeply. “If you really want to know, I was thinking about your mother.”

Sebastian’s expression immediately sobered as they pulled to a halt at a red light. Gabrielle had noticed long ago that whenever the subject was mentioned, Sebastian’s gorgeous eyes clouded somewhat and he became much less talkative than usual. “What about her?”

She had to be tactful.

Tact certainly wasn’t Gabby’s forte, but she’d come to learn that making concessions was the best way to keep the peace in Sebastian’s household – as well as a pretty good method for convincing the staff and his harpy mother that she’d been raised with some sort of class. “Well…I was just wondering…what it must have been like growing up with her.” She eyed him carefully, gaging his reaction. They’d never had an argument she couldn’t turn her back on if she wanted, and she didn’t want to start now.