Daddy by December (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series) (2 page)

That evening they came
to a compromise.  They didn’t have spaghetti for dinner but they did have
Jessie’s next favorite dish – macaroni and cheese.  Meg made sure she ate some
baked chicken with it.  The little girl would live on pasta alone if she
could.  Then that night as the bedside clock struck eight they climbed into
Jessie’s twin bed where she leaned against her mother and they read fairy tales
until the eyelids drooped and the little head sagged.  Then Meg slid slowly out
of the bed, laid her daughter’s head on the pillow, and pulled the blanket up
under her chin.  She leaned over and kissed the curly little head then reached
over and switched off the bedside lamp.  “G’night, Jessie,” she whispered to
her sleeping child then slipped out the door.    

Now that Jessie was
down for the night it was time for Meg to get down to her usual order of
business – job hunting.  She’d been at it into the wee hours of the morning and
tonight she was dead tired but she did not have the luxury of taking even one
night off.  Her savings were dwindling.  She had to find work, and fast.

Meg sat at
the dining table and munched on an apple as she booted up her computer.  She
hadn’t done her exercises today, hadn’t gone on the stationary bike for the
last four days, actually.  She’d been so preoccupied that she’d slipped up on
the one thing she’d always told herself she’d never compromise on.  As far as
she was concerned exercise was the number one factor for good health and, with
a daughter to take care of, she needed to stay healthy.  Oh, well, at least she
was getting in a serving of fruit before the day expired.  An apple a day was better
than nothing.

She’d been lost in
thought for several seconds before she realized that the computer screen was
displaying the opening page of her e-mail account.  She’d entered the password
without even realizing it.  She often did things on auto-pilot.  Now as she
stared at the screen she frowned.  Was she seeing right?  After weeks and weeks
of advertising and posting, there in her mailbox was a reply entitled ‘Ghostwriter
for Hire’.  Someone had responded to her ad.

Heart skipping in
anticipation, she raised a hand that trembled slightly.  She clicked on the
mouse.  The screen popped open and she read the message.  “We would like to
meet with you regarding engaging your services as a ghostwriter.  If we can
agree on mutually acceptable terms…” She read on and the more she read the more
excited she got.  Whoever it was, they wanted to hire her immediately.  The
words were like music to her heart. 

They were based right
there in Chicago, the story would be based on the experiences of the CEO of the
corporation, and they wanted someone whose timing was flexible.  Okay, that
part might be a bit tricky but somehow she would get around it.  She had a babysitter
and a neighbor who watched Jessie every now and then.  She might have to call
on her for those times when this client might want her to be available on the
weekend.  Whatever it took, she would have to make it work.

Meg slumped back in the
chair, relief flooding through her.  She could finally see light at the bottom
of the dismal hole into which she had fallen.  She was grinning like an idiot
but she didn’t care.  She could do the happy dance right now and not feel a
twinge of embarrassment.  Unless, of course, the grumpy old super came to the
door and found her doing the dance in her T-shirt-for-nightdress, bunny
slippers and her head tied up in a red and white polka dot scarf.

Meg was still smiling
as she reached for a pen and a sheet of paper to record the details of the
company that had made the offer.  And that was when she saw the name.  She froze. 
Her mouth went slack.  Duncan Investments.  And the CEO was none other than
Drake Duncan, the man who had broken her heart.

CHAPTER
TWO

Meg gasped and slumped
back in her chair, this time not in relief but in shock.  She could not believe
it.  The lifeline she’d been thrown had come from the very man she’d tried so
hard to forget.   So many years had passed.  She didn’t even know if he would
still remember her.  But she remembered him, just as clearly as if they’d just
met.  There was no way in the world she would ever forget the man who had taken
her virginity.

Biting her lip, Meg
sucked in a deep breath then got up from the table and walked over to the
window.  At the realization, her soaring heart had plummeted down to her toes. 
The disappointment was thick on her tongue and she felt a warning prick behind
her eyes.  No, this was not the time for tears.  She had to think.

She wanted the money. 
Badly.  But how could she let Drake Duncan back into her life?  She’d been
twenty years old when she met the tall, blond and excruciatingly handsome
senior in Philosophy 401.   She’d been a junior then, shy and reserved, and had
been taken aback when, at the end of year dance, Drake had ignored the girls
fishing around him and asked her for the last dance.  It hadn’t been in Meg’s
power to refuse.  She’d been fantasizing about him all semester, knowing fully
well that she had no hope of ever being with a man like that.  He was the
darling of the university, on the Dean’s List, and a star on the swim team.  Why
would he even look at her?

But here he was, with
his hand held out to her, inviting her to slow dance with him.  She raised
startled eyes to him and placed her trembling hand in his.  Did he know she was
madly in love with him?  Could he feel her heart beating wildly in her chest? 
The thoughts chased one another around in her head, drowning out the music that
pulsated in the auditorium.  She shook her head, pushed her doubts to the back
of her mind and gave him a bright smile.  Bravely, she stood up and stepped
into his arms.

For Meg the night was
like something out of a fairy tale.  She felt like Cinderella, not deserving
the attention of the prince but basking in the glory of it just the same.  She
almost expected him to disappear at the stroke of midnight.  But no such thing
happened.  In fact, at the end of the dance he walked her all the way back to
the dorm room she shared with her roommate.  Thinking Amy was in, Meg opened
the door, feeling safe in the expectation that his visit would be chaperoned. 
But there was no Amy there.  She’d probably decided to spend the last night
before graduation with her boyfriend.

Not wanting to look
like an idiot, Meg invited him in anyway.  There were beers in the fridge,
compliments of Amy who was already twenty-one, so she offered him one.  He
accepted.  And so they sat and talked while Drake had a drink and then
another.  He was relaxed, lounging in the sofa while she perched on the edge of
the arm chair.  By the time Meg offered Drake a third beer she’d become just a
bit more comfortable with him, charmed by his humor and worldly air.  Who would
have thought that Drake Duncan would choose to spend his last night before
graduation talking to her?

Though they’d been in
the same class of over a hundred students, he admitted that he’d only begun to
notice her when she presented her paper to the class the week before.  She
giggled in embarrassment when he told her how he’d admired how professional
she’d seemed as she addressed the class.  Like a real philosopher, he said. 
She glowed with pride at his words.  Drake Duncan admired her.  But did he like
her, too?  Was that why he’d invited her to dance?

And then he said them,
the words she’d been dying to hear all night, all semester, all her life. 
“You’re a beautiful girl, Meg.  I don’t know how I never noticed you before.” 
He gave her a boyish grin.  “I think I like you.”

He patted the seat
beside him.  “Come sit over here.  There’s lots of space, and you sure don’t
look comfortable over there.”  When she hesitated he gave her a gentle smile. 
“Come on, we’ll just relax and watch some TV.  I’m not going to bite.”

Meg swallowed.  “TV? 
But…it’s kind of late…”

“Just for a little
while.  I want to see the replay of today’s big game.  It’s more fun watching
it with you than back in my room.  Can’t get too much football, right?”

He patted the seat
again and this time Meg moved.  He was right.  What harm was there in watching
some television with him?  It was probably the last time she would see Drake
Duncan before he graduated and headed off to another life so it made sense to
savor every moment with him.  She got up off the chair and took the three steps
to the sofa where he took her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him.

Drake was true to his
word.  He flipped channels till he found the game and they watched play after
play, comfortable in each other’s company.  Eventually, though, the late hour
got the best of Meg and her eyelids began to droop.  She was barely aware of
her head sliding to rest against Drake’s warm shoulder and then she was gone.

When Meg woke up she
found herself lying on Drake’s chest, her head tucked under his chin.  He was
sprawled in the sofa, his chest rising and falling gently, his heart beating in
a slow and steady rhythm.  He was fast asleep.   Slowly, she lifted her head
and in the soft glow from the TV she got her first really close look at the man
of her dreams.  She still could not believe that she was lying in his arms. 
Could this be a dream?  Was she asleep and just fantasizing again?  Well, if it
was all a dream then she might as well make use of it.  She might never get the
chance again.

Gently, so as not to
wake him, Meg slid up Drake’s body until her face was over his.  She smiled
down at him.  He looked so peaceful, so innocent when he slept.  Gone were the
crooked grin and the slight cock of the eyebrows.  This was the real Drake
Duncan, and she was probably the only girl in the whole school who had seen him
this way.  Suddenly, she was no longer afraid of him.  She no longer saw him as
a young god on earth.  He was lying right there beneath her, big and warm, a
man of flesh and blood.  And she wanted him.  Gosh, did she ever want him.

With a sudden surge of
adrenalin came a bravery which made Meg lose her usual shyness and do something
she would not normally have dared.  Before she could change her mind she closed
her eyes and pressed her lips to Drake’s, savoring the feel of his mouth
against hers.  When he moaned, still deep in sleep, she slid her arm up around
his neck and pressed her body into his, totally aroused by his groan.  He was
moaning for her, only for her, and the thought made her nipples peak inside her
bra.  She kissed him harder.

And then he was kissing
her back.  She had no idea at what point he came to consciousness but before
she knew what was happening she was no longer in control.  He had his hand at
her back now, anchoring her body to his while his other hand slid up to cup her
head and angle her face so that he had full access to her lips.  He was kissing
her, all the desire she was feeling reflected in the passion of his kiss.  

“Mmm, Meg,” he breathed
and then he rolled over until he was the one lying on top, even as he continued
to kiss her senseless.  He slid his mouth from hers and then, with his lips, he
was tickling the skin of her cheek, her neck, her collarbone until his fingers
pushed away the lace of her bra and he was nuzzling her breast.

When he sucked the
nipple deep inside his mouth Meg felt she would swoon from the sensation. 
Never had she been touched there by a man.  And now his lips, his tongue, his
teeth were on her, tickling and teasing, playing with her body until she arched
her back, wanting even more of the sweet sensation. 

“Meg, I want you so
much,” he murmured.

And she knew he did. 
He wanted her as much as she wanted him.  His desire was plain in the hardness
that pressed against her leg.  Her desire was obvious in the heaving of her
chest and her breathless panting.  They both wanted it.

Meg shook her head,
dragging herself out of her reverie and back to the present.  No, she did not
want to revisit that night.  Not now.  Not when she had a serious decision to
make.  It had been beautiful, that was true.  As he reached for his wallet Drake
had hesitated, wanting to know if she was sure, but she’d been eager, wanting
it more than anything in the world.  And he’d been gentle, oh so gentle, almost
as if he’d known it was her first time.  He’d been perfect, taking her to
heights she had never climbed before.

But it was what
happened afterward that made her cringe.  After the act she’d been overcome
with feelings of guilt and shame.  This had been their first date, if you could
call it that, and what had she done?  She’d gone and slept with him.  What must
he think of her?  She couldn’t bear to look him in the face.  What if, for him,
this was just a one-night stand?  And what else could it be, anyway?  He’d be
leaving the university the next day and, chances were, she would never see him
again.  She couldn’t bear to think about it.

After that she'd been
very quiet, drawing into her shell .  He’d seemed confused at the change in her. 
He tried to speak to her but she shook her head, the tears at the point of
spilling over.  But she held on till he’d gone through the door and she’d
closed it.  Only then did she let the torrent of tears burst free.

If he called her next
day then she’d know he had true feelings for her.  But what if he didn’t?  And
why should he?  He’d got what he wanted.  Wasn’t that how college guys were? 
Once they’d had a taste they lost all interest in you and moved on to the next
conquest.  And that was all she was, just a conquest.  Why else would a jock
like Drake have paid any attention to her?