His Surrogate For Hire: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (11 page)

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If
you liked this book, you'll love
The
Billionaire's Surrogate
by Cher Etan also of BWWM Club, a #1 rated romance story.

Here's what it's
about:

A complete story with
no cliff hanger.

Money is nothing
without someone to love.

Max is a billionaire
with a lot going for him. He has the money, the looks, and a
personality to boot. But when diagnosed with prostate cancer, his
life turns around in an instant.

Everything that was
once important now seems trivial to him, and he soon realizes he
hasn't achieved his one main goal in life:

Having a baby.

With his cancer
treatment predicted to leave him sterile, he decides hiring a
surrogate mother to bare his child is the best option. And Christine,
a relative of his house keeper, agrees to the role.

But soon after the
process, further tests reveals Max doesn't have cancer after all and
won't become infertile. Now the question of where this leaves him and
Christine arises.

Will she simply
remain the mother of his child? Or will an even more personal
relationship form from this unexpected turn of events?

Find out in this
touching love filled romance by Cher Etan.

Suitable for over 18s
only due to passionate love making scenes likely to leave you needing
a cold shower.

Here's a quick
preview:

“
Dear
all, we are gathered here today to celebrate the nuptials between
Christine Alexandre Richards and Rudy Sinclair. If anyone has any
objection as to why these two individuals should not be joined in
Holy Matrimony, please speak up now or forever hold your peace,”
the priest said solemnly. He was inexplicably dressed in a red
jumpsuit and had on make up. In fact, he looked very much like RuPaul
if Christine was not mistaken. Still, it was her wedding day and she
was ecstatic.

“
I
object,” the voice said. Again and again and again; that voice
always objected. No matter what other details of the wedding changed,
that one remained the same.

Slowly,
even though she tried to stop herself doing it, Christine turned
around. It felt like one of those slow motion scenes in movies when
something horrible is going to happen. The heroine is only ever in
time to turn around with a scream and shout “No” in that
slow motion voice that sounded like a nineties tape recorder when the
tape stuck. The woman was always standing there dressed head to toe
in yellow…
yellow;
such a festive color to choose to go around breaking up people’s
weddings…and their hearts. She was a white woman, taller than
average and curvy. In fact her ass was just about the curviest thing
Christine had ever seen…and she’d grown up in an African
American neighborhood so she should know. She wore high yellow heels,
they were almost golden in fact and her toes were gaily painted blue.
She had on a hat…with a veil. The veil just barely covered her
eyes and her red lined smiling lips were staring cruelly and
mercilessly at Christine as she voiced her objection. When she was
sure she had everyone’s attention in the room she sauntered
over to the altar and slipped her hand through Rudy’s. He
seemed to be frozen to the spot and didn’t object.

“
You
can’t marry him because he’s already mine,” the
woman said with a triumphant smile.

It
was always at this point that Christine startled awake in a cold
sweat; the dream that wasn’t a dream
not
fading conveniently but echoing as if continuing in some other
dimension close by.

“
Rudy,”
she would whisper in despair and then get out of bed to go rinse her
face and get herself a glass of water.

“
Bad
dream?” her grandmother would ask, coming out of her room when
Christine did. Christine would shrug like it was nothing and go to
the kitchen. Her grandmother would follow and begin heating some milk
for hot chocolate.

“
You
don’t have to do that,” Christine would say.

“
I
know,” her grandmother would reply, eyes on the milk to make
sure it didn’t boil over.

*****

Max Lestrange was in
the front row, sitting next to his beautiful model date, he was
pretty sure her name was Kendal but he wasn’t a hundred percent
positive of that. They were here to watch the big fight as guests of
the mayor of Las Vegas. Max was good friends with her husband. He had
been like a father figure to him as he learned the ropes of being an
attorney at law and in turn Max had supported him when he and then
his wife, had run for office. The press was out in force because the
match was a big deal between the defending champion and his closest
contender. Max was trying to enjoy himself but it had been a strange
day; perhaps he was getting old because all he wanted to do was lie
down. The wine he’d taken with dinner was making him dizzy and
not in a good way and the room was hot in spite of the air
conditioning. He could feel the sweat on his forehead and his upper
lip. He really was not liking himself today and wished he could just
excuse himself and go lie down. The match was starting though and
servers were coming around with more champagne. Maybe that would make
him feel better. He took a glass and downed it at once, more for the
cold wetness than the taste but it did not make him feel better at
all. In fact, if he was honest it made him feel queasy and nauseous.
He was afraid he would have to excuse himself soon if things did not
settle down on their own. Kendal or Kim or whatever her name was
leaned toward him with a smile, murmuring something about how
exciting it was. Max murmured something suitable in reply and then
leaned over to speak with the mayor.

“
Carolyn,
I have to excuse myself,” he said standing up. fighting the
wave of dizziness that assailed him. He really needed to lie down.

“
Oh,
what’s up?” Carolyn asked.

Max opened his mouth
to reply but then the world was replaced with darkness and he knew no
more.

*****

He woke to a beeping
sound and the feel of a cool breeze on his buttocks. He had
difficulty opening his eyes, they seemed welded shut…that or
he had no eyes any longer.

“
Hallo,”
he croaked still trying valiantly to open his eyes. “Anybody
there?”

“
Mr.
Lestrange sir, you’re awake,” the voice of his
housekeeper said sounding relieved. “I’ll get the nurse.”

“
Martha
wait,” he said sharply and felt her stop moving. “What’s
wrong with my eyes?”

“
Oh,
they applied some sort of paste over them, I think to stop them
fluttering…you were convulsing sir. Anyway, I’ll get the
nurse,” Martha said.

Max waited
impatiently for someone to come and tell him what was going on with
him. He continued to try and open his eyes. He thought of wiping the
paste off with his hands but when he tried to move them, he felt a
pinprick of pain and a pulling sensation he didn’t like so he
ceased to do that forthwith.

“
Ah,
Mr. Lestrange, welcome back to the land of the living,” a low
male voice said to him, sounding too familiar for someone he’d
never met.

“
And
you are?” he asked coldly.

“
I’m
doctor Schofield, your physician,” the voice said.

“
I
see,” Max replied. “And what exactly is wrong with me?”

“
We’re
not sure yet,” the doctor replied breezily.

“
Could
you remove this paste so I can open my eyes?” Max asked
irritably.

“
Of
course. Nurse?” the doctor’s voice said. After a moment,
Max felt a cool cloth wiping him gently around his eyes. He could
feel whatever was holding his eyes closed loosen its hold and
suddenly he could see again, his eyes were open and he was staring at
Martha, his black housekeeper for nigh on fifteen years now, and a
young man with black hair and vivid blue eyes who was wearing a white
lab coat. He was also smiling at him as if he couldn’t be more
pleased with himself. Max hated him on sight.

“
So
you don’t know what’s wrong with me, why am I here?”
he asked coldly.

Dr. Schofield’s
smile faltered a bit but it came back, almost at full wattage. “We’re
running tests. Your temperature was elevated very high when you came
in. So much so that you were convulsing. You almost went into shock
but we pulled you back. Your white blood cell count is also elevated
which means you’re sporting an infection of some kind.
Hopefully once the blood work comes back we’ll know more.”

Max stared into the
middle distance. “I see,” he said. “My doctor’s
name is Carlyle Benson; I’m sure my housekeeper’s told
you. Would you kindly summon him?”

“
Your
housekeeper did inform us of your doctor’s name and the fact
that you would want him – but he is not affiliated with this
hospital and so-“

“
Then
move me to a facility with which he
is
affiliated,” Max interrupted.

That at least wiped
the smile off Dr. Schofield’s face. “Mr. Lestrange you
have to know that you are very weak right now and not in any position
to be moved,” he said in a more subdued tone than he’d
been hitherto using. “It would not behoove you to try and do
so. At least wait until you’re stronger.”

Max glared at him,
wanting to punch him in the face but truly feeling too weak to move.
He hated it, this weakness; and it scared the hell out of him. What
had happened to him?

“
Have
you checked my system for drugs?” he asked.

“
It's
one of the tests requested,” Dr. Schofield said. “If you
can be just a little patient we should know in an hour or two what
ails you.”

“
An
hour or two?” Max exclaimed in disbelief.

“
We
ordered extensive tests sir,” Dr. Schofield said.

Max just glared at
him, wanting to get out of bed, possibly hit something; preferably
the good doctor. But he just lay back in defeat and stared at the
ceiling.

“
Martha,
did you bring my bed clothes?” he asked.

“
Yes
sir, right here,” Martha said placing a pair of pajamas on the
bedside table where Max could see them.

“
Can
I at least change out of this mortifying gown?” Max asked the
doctor.

Dr. Schofield opened
his mouth to explain hospital policy but then closed it again. This
level of politics was above his pay grade. “Sure,” he
said and walked out of the room together with the nurse so that Max
could change. As soon as they were alone, Max relaxed.

“
Martha
what happened?” he asked.

“
You
collapsed at the fight sir,” Martha begun at once. “The
casino called an ambulance and the mayor called me. They had already
brought you here to this hospital by the time I could get here. I
called Dr. Benson and he arrived to check on you but they only
allowed him in as a professional courtesy but they said he could not
treat you because of that affiliation thing. He said to call him as
soon as you woke. I’ve already sent him a text.”

“
Good
girl. Anything else?” Max asked.

Martha shook her
head. “Everything is under control sir. Whitby is handling the
press, Constantine has informed the board of what is happening.”

“
What’s
he telling the press?” Max wanted to know.

“
No
information at this time,” Martha said.

Max nodded. “That
might not be the best strategy for the stocks. Ask him to change that
to a bad case of the flu.”

“
Yes
sir,” Martha said taking out her phone to text Whitby.

“
Where
is Andrea?” Max asked.

“
She’s
taking care of canceling or rescheduling appointments sir. She should
be here this afternoon.”

“
Right.
Good.” Max said.

“
Also,
your mother called,” Martha said tentatively.

Max was silent,
staring at the ceiling.

“
She…wanted
to know how serious it was,” Martha said.

Max turned to look at
her. “What did you tell her Martha?” he demanded.

Martha shrugged her
ample shoulders. “I told her the doctors didn’t know. She
asked me to keep her informed.”

Max’s eyes
narrowed and Martha hastened to add, “I said I would tell you
to get in touch.”

Max’s brow
cleared and he snorted, “She probably was hoping I’d cop
it and she’d have a chance at inheriting everything.”

“
Yes
sir,” Martha said obediently.

Max looked around the
room, his frown returning.

“
I
have some things for you in the car, your robe, slippers, laptop,
some flowers to brighten the room and your throw rug for the floor,”
Martha said seeing the frown. Max nodded his approval.