Daddy by December (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series) (3 page)

And, just as she
anticipated, she never heard from Drake Duncan again.  Graduation day came and
she was in the crowd when he walked up to receive his diploma.  With honors, of
course.  Then she’d gone back to her room and waited.  And waited. And waited
until the sun went down behind the hills and her roommate yawned her goodnight.

That night Meg did not
sleep at all.  She packed through the night and first thing in the morning she
was heading for the bus station.  She would not put herself through any more
torture.  She had accepted her fate.  She’d suffered the fate of so many other
college girls before her.  She’d learned a lesson she would never forget.

Now that lesson had
come back to haunt her in a very real way.  If she was not careful Drake Duncan
would be back in her life and back in her heart.  Of course she’d known how big
he’d become in Chicago.  His rise in fortune had been phenomenal and he was
often featured in Illinois newspapers.  But she’d vowed she would never make
herself known to him, never attempt to even go near him.  But, fight as she
would, it seemed that fate had other plans.  The gods had thrown him in her
path and, as it was before, it was her decision.  And this time she had to make
it the right one.

******

“Come on, Jessie.  Grab
your lunch kit.  I have your school bag.”

“Coming, Mommy.” 
Jessie came racing into the living room, her pink woolly hat in one hand and
her hand-knitted gloves in the other.  “I just wanted to kiss Miss Kitty
goodbye.”

Meg gave her daughter a
warm smile and bundled her into her jacket.  Jessie never left the house
without saying goodbye to her favorite toy.  Miss Kitty had been a gift from
her grandmother for her second birthday and she loved her just as much now as
she had when she just got it.  When other kids clung to a beloved ‘blankie’,
Jessie clung to Miss Kitty.

“Okay, let’s go.”  Meg
grabbed Jessie’s backpack and her handbag with one hand and took her daughter’s
hand with the other.  As the little girl chattered away they went out the door
and down the driveway to the car.

As Meg drove her
daughter to school her mind drifted away from the conversation.  She gave her
usual responses of ‘Yes, sweetie” and “Of course, honey” but her mind was on
what the rest of the day would bring.  She’d stayed up late two nights before,
thinking through her options, battling with the decision until finally she had
come to the conclusion that she needed to accept the contract.  It would be
difficult for her, that was for sure, but the man was offering five figures to
get his memoir written.  And it was not as if there were any other offers on
the table.  She had the rent to pay and her daughter to feed and clothe.  She
would just have to bear things for the months that it would take to get the job
done.  Then she would bury him once more in the back of her mind and get on
with her life.  And so the next day she’d called and made an appointment to see
him that very week - before she had a chance to change her mind.    

The main office of
Duncan Investments was impressive.  Meg pulled into the parking lot then walked
up the driveway to the twenty story building fashioned in black tinted glass
and silver beams.  It had a futuristic look and feel that made her wonder at
the man Drake Duncan had become.  From his days at the university he’d been voted
as most likely to succeed.  He’d been touted as a progressive and innovative
thinker.  And look where it had taken him.  She was not surprised.

Meg signed in at the
security desk and rode the glass paneled elevator up to the top floor.  There
she checked in at the receptionist’s desk.

“Please have a seat,
Ms. Gracey,” the smiling young woman told her.  “Mr. Duncan will see you in
just a few minutes.”

Meg sank gratefully
into the plush leather sofa in the waiting lounge. She felt like her knees were
turning to Jello so she was glad for an excuse to get off her feet.  Then she
slid forward and perched on the edge with her handbag propped on her knees. 
Her palms were moist and with each passing moment there was a quickening in the
rhythm of her beating heart.  Goodness, it was sheer torture sitting there,
anticipating their meeting.

“Ms. Gracey?”

At the sound of her
name Meg jumped.  She looked up and found herself staring into the warm brown
eyes of a gray-haired woman in a navy blue suit.

“Yes,” Meg said with a
nod, and hopped up off the seat.

“My name is Liz Dobson. 
I’m Mr. Duncan’s personal assistant.”  The woman held out her hand and gave Meg
a firm handshake.  “Thanks for making yourself available so quickly.  I’ll take
you to see Mr. Duncan now.”  As if sensing her visitor’s nervousness the woman
smiled at her again then turned toward the heavy oak door that led to the inner
offices.

Meg followed, feeling
like a lamb being led to the slaughter, but she sucked in her breath,
straightened her back and put on her bravest face.  Even if she melted inside
Drake Duncan must never know.

They walked down a long
passage until finally they came to another oak door.  Liz gave a gentle tap
then pushed it open and stood aside, indicating with a nod that Meg should go
in.  She nodded and stepped past the woman and onto the plush cream carpet of
Drake Duncan’s private office.

And there he was,
sitting in the high-backed leather chair, the phone receiver to his left ear, a
gold pen in his right hand as he scribbled on a yellow notepad.  He looked
worldly, powerful, and even more handsome than she remembered.  Gone were the
hooded sweatshirt and jeans of his campus days.  Those had been replaced with a
charcoal-gray suit, white button down shirt and wine-colored tie.  His hair was
different, too.  Instead of the crew cut of his youth his dark blond hair now
coiled at the nape of his neck, giving him the look of a sexy male model rather
than a billionaire businessman.  All this Meg saw in a split second.  And yet
he was not looking at her.

And then suddenly he
was.  As he reached over to hang up the phone he lifted his head and a smile
softened his firm lips.  “I’m sorry.  Just had to finish a quick call.”  He got
up from behind his desk and she was reminded of how tall he was.  At well over
six feet he towered over both of the women in the office.  He walked over, his
hand outstretched.

“Thank you for coming,
Miss Gracey,” he said as he took her hand in a strong grip.  “Glad you accepted
my offer.”

“Mrs. Gracey,” she
corrected, and lifted her head to look straight into his striking gray eyes.

Drake Duncan froze. 
His grip on her hand tightened and his brows furrowed.  “Meg…Donovan?”

Her heart leaped and,
to her chagrin, she felt a slight trembling in her lip.  She bit down on it. 
He had remembered.  After all these years he still recognized the pathetic
little junior who had thrown herself at him.  She didn’t know whether to feel
elated or dismayed.  What she felt was nervous.  Would he reject her because of
their past encounter?

For the moment Meg
could not speak.  All she could do was nod.

Shock registered on his
face.  His brows raised and he sucked in a quick breath.  There was an
expression on his face that she could not read.

Oh, Lord.  What had she
done?  In coming here had she just made the second biggest mistake of her life?

*****

Drake Duncan could not
tear his eyes away.  Meg Donovan.  She was here, standing right in front of
him, looking even more beautiful than when he had last held her in his arms. 
And his body had remembered her.  Even before she’d lifted her face to his,
before he’d had a good look at her, he’d known.  The moment his hand touched
hers an electric charge ran through him, so strong that he’d held her tight. 
It was either that or whip his hand away from the shock.

Meg, in living color,
all five foot five inches of her.  Where she used to have wild chestnut curls
framing her pixie face, her hair was now swept up in a sleek ponytail that
flowed, long and straight, down her back.  Her hazel eyes were huge in her face
and her lips, those full, soft lips he remembered, now trembled under his
gaze.  Everything around him disappeared and all he could see was that sweet,
innocent girl he had fallen for so many years ago.

Get a grip, Drake. 
That was another lifetime.  And she walked away, remember? 
In
the microsecond it took for Drake to take things in he realized he was still
holding her hand.  He released her and shoved the offending hand deep in his
pocket.  But still, he did not look away.

Liz cleared her throat. 
“May I get you anything, Ms. Gracey?  Coffee?  Tea?”

It took that
interruption for the spell to be broken.  Drake stepped away and went to pull
out the chair in front of his desk.  He pasted a smile on his face and nodded
to Meg.  “Please, have a seat.”

Hesitantly, she took a
step toward him.  Then she paused and looked at Liz.  “A cup of tea would be
nice,” she said, smiling at the woman.  “Thank you.”  Then she took the two
steps to the chair and gracefully sank down into it.

Drake released the back
of Meg’s chair and walked around his desk.  He took his time getting there.  He
needed those two seconds to gather his thoughts.  Meg had hurtled back into his
life, slamming him back against the wall of a reality he thought he’d buried
years ago.  He’d wanted Meg Donovan from the day he’d seen her at the podium,
so small and yet so brave, speaking to a lecture hall of over a hundred of her
peers.  He’d wanted her even more when they danced at the pre-graduation
party.  And, after having one taste of her that night, he’d wanted her for
life. 

And, to his chagrin,
none of that had changed.  Seeing her again, holding her hand in his, had the
feelings barreling into him as if not a day had passed.  He wanted this woman
just as much as he had from day one.  But now there was a problem.  A major
one.  Meg Donovan was married.

CHAPTER
THREE

As
Drake walked back to his chair Meg folded her hands in her lap and held her
breath.  Gracious, what had she gotten herself into?  As she stared at his
broad back her mouth went dry and she knew she hadn’t lost a single ounce of
the attraction she’d felt for him.  Oh Lord, she was in trouble.

Drake sat down and
rested his crossed arms on the desk.  “Thank you for coming,” he said, his
voice deep and low and so sexy that she felt a blush creep up her neck.  “Under
the circumstances you didn’t have to, so I appreciate it.”

That brought her back
to earth with a bump.  ‘Under the circumstances’ he’d said.  Meaning what?  I
used you then dumped you so I didn’t expect you to show up at my office?  Was
he rubbing it in?  A wave of humiliation washed over her and her palms went
damp.  If she didn’t need the money so desperately she would get up and walk
right out.  But sadly, she did.  She had to put aside her feelings and think of
Jessie.  She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to stay
calm.

Then she looked up and
caught him staring at her with hooded eyes that made it impossible for her to
read his expression.  As her eyes darted up to his he blinked then cleared his
throat.

“You have an impressive
profile, Meg,” he began then said quickly, “I mean, Mrs. Gracey.”

Oh, so he was going to
be formal, was he?  She was very good at playing that game.  And anyway, maybe
it was for the best that they should remain formal.  That way, she would never
forget her position.  She was Drake Duncan’s ghostwriter, nothing more, nothing
less.

She gave him a slight
nod.  “Thank you.”

“Even before I knew who
you were I thought you’d be the perfect person to write my memoir.”  His face
became more animated as if he was beginning to relax in her presence.  “So many
novels under your belt, one of them on the USA Today Best Seller List.”

She couldn’t help
smiling at that one.  “Oh, so you’ve been reading up on me.”

“Of course,” he said
with a smile that brought a twinkle to his eyes and for a moment he looked just
like the Drake Duncan she’d swooned over in college.  The years fell away and
the person she saw before her was the tall, muscled athlete that all the girls
chased after.

Except that he was even
more handsome now than he’d been ten years ago.  There was a worldliness about
him, a self-confidence and sophistication that hadn’t been there before.  If
he’d been a lady killer then she could just imagine what he was now, successful
and super handsome and single.  Yes, he was still single.  He’d read up on her
but she’d read up on him, too.  And she knew he was one of the wealthiest
eligible bachelors in Chicago. 

But that meant nothing
to her.  She was here to do a job and she would do it to the best of her
ability and then be on her way.

“I guess the project
will take anywhere from three to six months,” he was saying, “but you’re the
writer.  You know best.  I’m relying on you to work out an appropriate
schedule.”

“No problem,” she said,
her tone brisk.  “Before I start writing anything I’ll have to do a series of
detailed interviews then I’ll compile my notes and get started.”  She pointed
to the desk calendar.  “If you just hand that to me I can set up the interview
dates right now.”