The Billionaire's Baby Bargain (A is for Alpha) (9 page)

For the briefest moment she considered not telling him. What could it hurt if he never knew? A shiver ran down her spine and she shook her head.

Andrés was a ruthless man. When he’d believed she’d slept with him just to get a story for a magazine, he’d shredded her career as effortlessly as if he’d swatted a fly on the wall. If he found out she kept a baby from him…
 

He had a right to know. Which meant she’d have to find a way to contact him. Or at least find someone who could.

Above the sounds of clinking glasses and the hired professional orchestra, Andrés vaguely heard the sound of his mobile ringing in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he murmured to the group standing in conversation around him, welcoming the interruption of yet another tedious social event.

He strode briskly from the room and into an empty foyer, pulling his phone free while he walked.
 

“Pablo,” he greeted mildly.
 

“
Buenos noches, Señor
. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,” Pablo murmured. “However, I have received a message I feel you would want to be made aware of immediately.”

It could have been a situation with one of his hotels, or something equally associated to the industry. And yet intuition pricked within him.
 

“What is it?”
 

“I just received word that Chloe Wilkinson is trying quite determinedly to locate you.”

Andrés’s heart stuttered and his fingers tightened around the phone. Chloe. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a slow breath.
 

He had wanted to loathe her for her actions, but he hadn’t been able to rid her from his thoughts. Hadn’t been able to erase the memory of her and how she’d made him feel for that short time they’d been together. And now she was trying to find him.

“Do you have her number?” he asked quietly.

“I do,
Señor
.”
 

It was hardly the time or place, but none of that mattered. Andrés found a pen and paper and took down the number. A few minutes later he dialed her.

His throat tightened as it rang once. Why was she trying to contact him? Rang twice. After all the time that had gone by. Three times.
 

“Hello?”
 

Andrés closed his eyes at the sound of her voice, gripping the phone tighter. Her tone was muffled and hesitant, but it was without a doubt Chloe.
 

The sound of her voice shouldn’t have made his blood pound this quickly. Made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. How many nights had he lain awake thinking of her? Dreaming of her? She was like a damn virus in his blood that he could not shake.

“I hear you were searching for me,
cariño
.” The soft endearment slipped out as if they hadn’t parted on bitter terms.
 

There was silence on the other line, so thick and long he began to wonder if she’d hung up. He stopped breathing at the idea, panic gripping him.

“Andrés.”
 

She hadn’t ended the call. He closed his eyes and murmured, “
Sí
. You sound surprised.”
 

He paced the foyer, feeling like a caged lion as he waited for her response. Did she call to apologize? To explain that though she’d been trying to deceive him, her passion had been real? Did she call to beg forgiveness and ask to see him again?

Which led to the most important question: could he forgive her transgression and take her back? Of course not.

Could he?

Already he envisioned her in his arms again. Her soft sighs of pleasure, the tantalizing smell of her jasmine perfume, the lushness of her body beneath his. His groin tightened beneath the trousers of his tuxedo and he ground his teeth together.

Yes. Perhaps having Chloe back in his bed would be a very satisfying arrangement. Though it was true she no longer posed a threat as a reporter, this time he would insist she sign the confidentiality contract.

 
“I am surprised, yes,” she finally admitted in a strained voice. “I didn’t think you would call me back.”

“Well I must admit you have roused my…” He paused deliberately and let a slow smile curl his lips. “Curiosity.”

“Oh,” she said softly. And he could very well visualize her cheeks filling with color while she nibbled on her full bottom lip.
 

He missed that. How easily she blushed. How responsive she was to his touch or even just a look. “What is it you needed, Chloe?”
 

“I don’t need anything, Andrés. In fact, perhaps I shouldn’t have even called,” she rambled now. “I have no expectations, no motivations in calling you. I just, well, you have every right to know.”

Right to know? His heart pounded harder and he shook his head. Was she ill?
 

Tension coiled through his muscles. The sounds from the party swelled, Andrés covered his left ear to block them out. “Know what, Chloe?”

There was another pause and he could’ve sworn he heard her sniffling.

“Andrés.”

Andrés cursed and cast a glare at the hostess of the party as she crossed the foyer toward him.

“Are you coming back to the party, darling?”

“Give me a moment,” he bit out and strode in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, sounding almost deflated now. “You’re busy. Perhaps I should call—”

“
Basta.
Tell me now.” He cursed. If she was sick, or facing losing her apartment, or—
 

“I’m pregnant.”
 

There was a roaring in Andrés’ ears and his vision narrowed. The word looped in his ears. Pregnant. He could hear the furious pounding of his heart while he reached out to place his palm against the nearby wall.
 

Chloe was pregnant.

Sweat broke out on the back of his neck and he struggled to breathe.
 

“But you don’t have to worry about anything, Andrés. Though I felt you have every right to know, this isn’t your problem,” she said firmly. “I’ll deal with it myself.”

And then the line went dead.

The bell from the kitchen chimed, signaling her order was up. Chloe drew in a harried breath as she grabbed a tip from one table and rushed back to pick up the food for another.

Eleven hours on her feet. Gosh, was that what she was going on now? Thank heavens it was almost nine and the dinner rush was over. Just one more hour and then she could go home.

“How are you holding up, Chloe?” Martha paused on her way back to the kitchen and cast her a sympathetic look. “It’s not right. You working doubles in your condition.”

Chloe loaded up the plates full of food onto her tray and managed a faint smile. “I’m pregnant, not terminally ill. I’m doing all right. Besides, it’s just the mornings where I pretty much wish I were dead. Be back in a second.”

She balanced the tray on one hand and went to deliver it to the family at table five. The diner wasn’t overly busy, but alive with atmosphere. Getting into the spirit of fall, it was decorated with oversized cutouts of leaves, while pumpkin lights were strung around some of the windows.

A few minutes later she’d returned behind the counter to where Martha was scooping butter into little containers for the morning breakfast rush.

“So I called him,” Chloe admitted quietly, setting the tray back down.
 

Martha’s eyes widened but she didn’t slow her pace scooping. “And?”

The memory of the conversation knotted her stomach. Chloe’s throat burned with despondency. “He was with another woman when I called.”

Sympathy flared in her friend’s gaze. “Oh, Chloe, I’m sorry.”

She forced a light shrug. “I really shouldn’t have expected anything less.” Not with Andrés. Spain’s elusive bachelor billionaire, the tabloid’s had dubbed him. Women were probably as common to him as breathing.

“Well he’s a fool to let you go,” Martha muttered. “Two months pregnant and already glowing. You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you.” Chloe gave a small smile. Though pretty was stretching it with her hair in two braids and the blue calico dress she had on that was the uniform at Dixie’s Diner.
 

A commotion outside had Chloe’s attention jerking away. All the kids in the restaurant had their noses pressed to the window and were chattering in excitement.

“What’s going on outside?” Martha asked.
 

Chloe frowned slightly and stepped forward. “I haven’t a clue. But I’ll go check it out.”
 

She was almost to the window when the front door dinged and someone stepped inside.
No
. The blood drained from her face and she took a quick step backward.

No, it couldn’t possibly be him.
 

Tall, dark and daunting, Andrés strode into the restaurant, waving and smiling at the children, who stared at him as if he were Santa Claus. Outside the front door, which was still open, she spotted the source of the children’s fascination. A black stretch limo.

Andrés’ head lifted then to sweep around the restaurant. His gaze connected with hers.

All sounds around Chloe dimmed to nothing. Her world shrunk to just the two of them. Her heart pounded in her throat and her body began to tremble. All the fear, excitement, and uncertainty of the past couple of days caught up with her. She remembered how it had felt to be in his arms in Spain after the attack on the beach, the comfort she’d found there.

It hit her now, the same need for the comfort of Andrés’ embrace again, for him to tell her that everything would be okay while he held her. The compulsion was so strong that she bit her lip to keep from rushing to him and burying her face against his chest. Though more than anything, she wanted to feel his heart beat beneath her cheek.
 

But she knew the impulse was foolish. Andrés wasn’t here to offer comfort or help ease her fear. No, if anything, he would soon become the source of it.

Chapter 5

With agonizing slowness, he looked her over in a visual caress from head to toe, lingering on her stomach. His eyes glittered with anger and his mouth tightened into a grim slash. He moved toward her, his stride resolute and terrifying.
 

Chloe’s pulse jerked, bouncing into double time. The room shifted around her. She had the strongest urge to run, to turn and flee like the devil was on her heels, but her legs refused to cooperate. And like hell would she give him that satisfaction anyway.

How could he possibly be here? She hadn’t even called him twenty-four hours ago and he lived half a world away.
 

Stay strong
. She lifted her chin, folded her arms across her chest, and waited to meet him head on.

“Good evening, Chloe.”

He arrived in front of her, his expression once again unreadable and his demeanor relaxed. But she wasn’t fooled; she could sense the furor beneath. Her stomach did a series of flips and another harsh shudder ran through her body.
 

“I’m working,” she finally blurted, hoping to hold off whatever confrontation he had in mind.

“Yes, I see,” he murmured. “When are you off? I will wait.”

Her breath caught. “You can’t—”

“She’s free to leave early.” All of a sudden Martha was at their side, smiling at Andrés. “I’m supervising this shift and since we’re slow, I see no problem with her leaving.”

“Ah, you’re not only lovely, but also a compassionate woman. Thank you,” Andrés murmured, and Martha giggled in reply.
 

Chloe bit back a groan. Of course he would charm her friend. He could charm a snake from its skin with a smile.

“Shall we then?” Strong fingers curled around her arm, and though Andrés’s words were spoken calmly, she knew he wasn’t giving her a choice.

“I need to grab my jacket,” she said, almost numb now. She pulled away from his grip and walked into the back.

After she removed her jacket off the wall hook, she spun around and found him right behind her. She stumbled away from him, her heart slamming into her chest, until she was literally against the wall.

“You are even more beautiful than I remembered, Chloe.” He gave a half smile and reached out to caress the strands of hair on one of her braids.
 

Beautiful? Hardly. They were from two different worlds. How had she ever thought she stood a chance with this man? She looked like she’d just come off a farm, and Andrés would’ve fit in at a political dinner. Still as overwhelmingly handsome as ever, he was dressed impeccably in a tuxedo that probably cost more than her month’s pay.

“Just stop, Andrés. If you came all this way for me, then you can just turn around and go home,” she said vehemently.
 

“What makes you think I came for you?” he asked silkily and arched a brow. “You’re carrying my child,
cariño
. Or have you forgotten?”

Chloe blanched and let out a ragged breath. For a few minutes she’d been so overwhelmed with seeing him again, had been caught up in the familiar passion and turbulent emotions that she’d been foolish enough to think she was the motivation for him being here. Once again, she took home the prize for being a top-class fool.