Chapter 24

“I asked her to hold off on divulging the news to you,” he continues. “So that I could be the one to share it.”

“You wanted to be the one to tell me… And in person?”

I’m mind blown. Stage One of our mission has been accomplished. As it goes, his work here is done. Now it’s up to my body and Dr. Shaw’s staff to see us through Stage Two.

Yet he’s come all this way, just to inform me of something he could discuss with me over the phone.

And he’s brought flowers.

He’s truly thrilled about this.

Of course, he is, you goof. He’s paying you to give him a child!

I try to shake off my shock, but that might prove impossible.

His head bends to mine and he murmurs, “Are you all right?”

Honestly? I’m not sure.

My heart has started beating again and it’s now ready to burst from my chest.

And for the love of God, I swear I suddenly feel like I’m not alone inside my own body. I’m growing a tiny human in there.

Oh. Fuck.

Tears instantly spring to my eyes.

“Bailey…” Nick’s hand cups the side of my face. The other is holding the rose he snatched from the enormous floral arrangement that his bodyguard has set on the table where my bodyguard is sitting and where my laptop is typically located.

I swallow down a lump of emotion as a distinct thought occurs to me.

Nick is deeply concerned I’m wigging. And I am. Except… Not in a bad way.

I force myself to speak—to reveal what has just dawned on me.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” I confess. “I have my restaurant and you’re going to have a child and she’s going to have the perfect existence.” Emotion overcomes me.

“She?” he quietly asks, intrigued.

I let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know why I said that. I just… Have a feeling.”

Geez, Bailey.

I really am a goof.

I explain, “I know I can’t actually ascertain one way or the other… Hell, I just found out two minutes ago that I’m pregnant.”

“And, henceforth, you’re going to be more routinely under Dr. Shaw’s care. But tonight… I’d like you to have dinner with me.”

“Of course.” I am beyond excited by this prospect. Except… “I don’t have kitchen staff today. We’re not re-opened yet and the painters slapped on a fresh coat in there this morning, so there was no point in bringing them in, just to inhale fumes.”

“Not here. I’ve made other arrangements.”

I snicker, despite the fact that I’m still completely boggled. “You mean Claire made other arrangements. She’s sensational.”

“Yes, she is. But, no… She didn’t. I set this evening up. I want it to be special, but also… Private. This is a big deal.”

“The biggest,” I concur.

His thumb whisks away a tear tumbling along my cheek. He gently presses his forehead to mine, then lightly kisses that spot.

“You’re really all right?” he whispers.

“Having some difficulty coming around, mentally. But, yes. I’m genuinely ecstatic. I wanted this for both of us.”

Naturally, there is a downside I can neither ignore nor deny—Nick has no reason to have sex with me.

Ever again.

Wow, that’s just… The most depressing thought of all time.

I can’t obsess over that, though, or these tears aren’t going to be the joyous kind.

I have a few things to wrap up before we leave. My bodyguard joins the driver while Nick’s rides with us in the back of the limo. I opted to keep the flowers at the restaurant—they look fabulous at the end of the bar, the deep crimson blooms, verdant leaves, and baby’s breath being a nice complement to the overall décor.

Nick sits close to me. He continually checks me out, sliding glances my way, as though he’s trying to gauge my precise mood. I’m also wondering if he’s contemplating calling Dr. Shaw to evaluate me immediately for shock or emotional trauma of some sort.

This makes me laugh. Much more vibrantly than before, taking him aback. Me, as well. I’m still commiserating with myself over the lack of a need for us to “copulate.”

“I’m not in hysterics or anything,” I assure him as he raises a brow at me. “I’m just a bit surprised we knocked it out of the ballpark on our first ovulation go-round. Dazed, truth be told.”

“I was anticipating positive results,” he confidently says. And winks at me. It’s a not-so-subtle innuendo. He’s clearly referencing the way we’d gone at it like horny bunnies during my most fertile days. And, hell, we’d both learned from our individual tests, performed by Dr. Shaw and her PA, that we were prime candidates for hitting a homerun.

And here I am, back to fixating on sex with Nick.

The best thing about having to renovate Bailey’s Clambake from top to bottom, inside and out, was that there were a million and one details to occupy my brain, to keep me focused on that task, not on Nick’s absence. Now I glower internally over how little contact we had with each other for that period and whether he even noticed. Like… Did he miss me?

Don’t go there, Bailey.

Do. Not. Go. There.

I don’t.

At least, not verbally.

I let Nick chat about my -ish delivery date, circling around the timeframe we’ll both need to be prepared for. Apparently, Claire has already blocked off days on his calendar so he’s not traveling or otherwise indisposed and can hop his plane ASAP to get to me.

I feel a twinge of regret over knowing he’s not going to be with me the very moment my water breaks.

But Dr. Shaw, Lavinia, and Grayson will be. Hell, for all I know, Nick might send Claire here for the duration of my pregnancy.

I wouldn’t have an issue with that. I’m beginning to suspect I’ll require camaraderie. A curious notion, considering I’ve always been a loner. But, again… I’m not alone anymore, am I? I have a peanut inside me.

And goddamn, does that reality make me ridiculously giddy!

I laugh once more. Giggle, really.

Nick gives me another quizzical look. Knowing I’m not the giddy/giggling type.

“I’m pregnant,” is all I say. And smile.

Evidently, I convince him I’m down with it all, that I’m not having reservations or a full-on freak out. I’m actually feeling calmer, and I believe he senses that.

We reach the estate and Grayson is quietly exuberant, though I can’t imagine he’s aware of our news yet—it’s more like he’s pleased Nick has returned and that I appear euphoric because of it.

Grayson is attired formally, though, so he’s obviously been given a heads-up as to Nick’s arrival in town.

He and Nick exchange greetings. Then Nick directs me to my suite.

There’s a large, silver box with a shimmery bow on my bed.

My stomach flutters. More emotion stings the backs of my eyes.

Over my shoulder, I tell him, “You don’t always have to spoil me.”

“So I’ll send it back,” he quips.

“Don’t you dare,” I playfully scoff. “I have a very good idea what this might be.”

His gaze smolders. He prefers me in lingerie, primarily blue. Or just plain naked.

“This is going to be a nightgown, isn’t it?” I hopefully inquire. Because nightgown translates to the potential for sexy times ahead. And that equates to my spirits rising higher.

He says, “I had it made for you. Open the box.”

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to rip the package open. Instead, I carefully lift the lid and peel back folds and folds of glittery tissue and then…

Oh…

And then…

“Nick…” His name blows between my teeth on a dreamy sigh.

“Those are real diamonds,” he simply says.

I’m staring at a glamorous, full-length nightgown that is the richest, most decadent sapphire color, with a plunging neckline and gathered material at the shoulders, secured by diamond-encrusted clasps. Lots of diamonds.

The bodice crisscrosses, midsection, then flows into a smooth, satiny skirt. It’s a bit voluminous, though, allowing for weight gain.

I’m sufficiently touched.

Then I examine the back and the breath rushes from my lungs once more.

It dips low, certainly. To my tailbone, I surmise. And at that spot, there is a showstopping diamond design in a V-shape that is too extraordinary for words.

Nick moves in close to me and whispers in my ear, “Family crest.”

And just like that…

I’m branded—in the most luxurious way.

“Nick,” I murmur, though the emotion is lodged in my throat again. “This is so beautiful. And… I don’t even know what else to say…”

I’m flabbergasted. But also deeply moved.

This is an astonishing gift.

It’s not just about the bling. It’s about the insignia.

It takes a few moments for me to catch my breath.

Though that’s still impossible. I might never breathe properly again.

Nick sweeps my hair over one shoulder and removes the shrug covering my tank top. He tosses it on the bed and then his lips glide along my neck and he kisses the crook.

Okay… All despair related to him never sexing me up again is banished from my brain. I am so getting laid.

I had agonized over and over, with so much push and pull, as to whether Nick and I would see each other again and instantly drown in lust, or if things would have cooled between us. If he’d gotten me out of his system or had possibly even met someone else.

Yet these are not frivolous or even merely friendly kisses he’s leaving along my skin. They are delicate, yet purposeful. Feathery and sensual. Explicitly meant to titillate and tease.

He slips the spaghetti straps of my top down my arms and the material collapses to my waist. His hands slide under it to work the button and zipper of my capris. I instinctively toe off my sneakers. It takes him less than two seconds to complete the job and have me naked.

He takes the nightgown from me and eases it over my head. The skirt flows lushly to my bare feet.

He ensures all the gathered satin is in place and then his fingertips graze slowly along my spine to the small of my back, inciting a delicious shiver as his other hand skates around to the front of me and splays across my belly.

I can never fight sensory overload with this man. It’s even more powerful this evening, given our new circumstance.

And additionally overwhelming is the fact that he’s had this remarkable garment crafted for me and it’s unbelievably personalized with something so significant to Nick. And to his family. Meaning that crest will also be significant to our child.

Oh, Bailey—bad and wrong.

Not about the crest—it’s the other part of that sentiment I have to be wary of. I really can’t say “our child.” The connotation is much too substantial.

Though… It is a true fact.

We are, indeed, having a baby.

We’re just not sharing custody of said baby.

That is where I must form a disconnect in my head.

I’m not necessarily surprised about this complication. I’ve previously had to walk through all the inherently intricate nuances in my mind.

It’s just that… Prior to today, those intricate nuances were theory.

Today… They’re reality.

Made all the more poignant with Nick’s dramatic present. And his sexy kisses. The way he undressed me. The fact that he lingers close enough that I feel his breath on my nape. Goosebumps riddle my skin, making it tingle.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I can feel every single ripple through you.”

“Evoked by you.”

“So I still make you tremble.”

I inhale deeply. Then I turn to him, peering seductively at him from under my lashes. “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

Although my voice is low and sultry, I’ve just laid a pretty heavy comment on him.

But, hey… We’re ensnared in a heavy situation here. One with tons of twisted strings I don’t think either of us anticipated.

And interestingly… Ones neither of us are pretending don’t exist.

“This isn’t just about a nightgown,” I brazenly venture.

“It’s also not just about how gorgeous you are in it.”

“Nick—”

“Be mindful about what you say next, Bailey,” he whispers. “We’re at a crossroads.”

I gape.

He tenderly clasps my bare shoulders and tells me, “I didn’t choose to be away from you for a month. I have…obligations. Elsewhere.”

“I know you do, Nick. I totally know you do.”

“But you’re also an obligation now. That’s why I came.”

“You don’t have to think of me that way,” I assure him. Much as it pains me to do so. “I have Dr. Shaw and Lavinia looking after me. A butler. Mitch at work.”

His gaze narrows. “What is your involvement with Mitch at work?”

I can’t contain a slight smile. There’s a territorial tinge to his tone.

I don’t leave him in suspense. “He doesn’t know about my personal life, but he does make sure I don’t overdo it at the restaurant. He bears ample responsibility, as my manager.”

“Okay,” he murmurs with a nod, conceding the issue.

“Point being, I’m going to be under microscopic supervision now that I’m pregnant. You don’t have to worry about—”

“Please don’t tell me not to worry about you.” His expression remains intense. “I don’t just think of you as my surrogate, Bailey.”

My stomach flips. And that’s not a good sign. I’m teetering on a precipice I absolutely should not fall over. I cannot lose my heart to this man. I seriously cannot.

“I don’t really know how you think of me, Nick. But… You have other critical concerns to address. Your father, for instance.” More tears suddenly, unexpectedly sting my eyes, misting them. “I’m so sorry about him. How is he?”

“Not recovering, as I’d hoped. Which is why I’ve had to focus on the full transition of power, officially becoming king.”

Wow. Just… Wow.

The man’s now a king.

Not a statement I’ll ever get used to, for sure.

“With that reign,” I surmise, “you have infinitely more duties.”

“Naturally. But that doesn’t change what I originally wanted.”

I suck in a breath. This is a risky conversation to have. But a vital one.

I exhale slowly and ask, “Are you certain?”

“Bailey.” He stares deep into my eyes. “I already allotted for having a child, even comprehending I was losing my father and it was my turn to step up. I have every contingency in place, every base covered. I’m fully prepared for you to have my baby. That is precisely what I want,” he vehemently asserts.

And now the king has his heir.

I have my restaurant.

Months from now, our contract will be complete.

So why am I standing here in a gorgeous nightgown with the royal crest embedded in the fabric, as though I’m embedded in his family’s fabric?