Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
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“That could be difficult, considering we’re not even a couple.”
“But we could be. We already know we’re compatible in the bedroom.”
“Too compatible, it seems,” she commented acerbically.
“Look, I never considered having a committed relationship or starting a family until I’d achieved my career goal targets because I never wanted a child of mine to miss out on anything—whether it be financially or emotionally. You want the same thing, right? For our child to have everything he or she needs to be happy, healthy and safe? Loving parents are part of that package. Perhaps we ought to consider being a couple.”
“What, go steady, you mean?” she said with a gurgle of laughter.
“More than that. We should get married. Think about it—it makes perfect sense. This is only a one-bedroom apartment, right? Where would you put the baby when it’s born? Have you even thought about that? And what about work? Do you plan to be a stay-at-home mom or continue with your career?”
Sally put her glass down very slowly. “Kirk, we only just found out about this pregnancy today. We have plenty of time ahead of us for decision making. Let’s not be rash.”
“Rash? I don’t think so. It’s logical.”
“I’m sorry, but it isn’t logical to me in the least. We hardly know each other, and I’m not sure that I want to be married to you. I’m certainly not going to make a decision like that on such short acquaintance.”
Kirk fought back the arguments that sprang to the tip of his tongue. It was clear she was feeling more than a little overwhelmed by his suggestion, which was entirely understandable. She needed time to think, and so did he. If he was going to campaign successfully to win Sally’s hand, he would have to go about it carefully.
“At least think about it,” he urged. “And talk to me—seriously, anything. Any questions, any problems, bring them to me and we’ll solve them together.”
“Oh, I’ll be thinking about it,” she admitted with a rueful shake of her head. “I imagine I’ll be thinking about little else. By the way, I don’t want anyone else to know about this just yet.”
He nodded. The only person he would have shared the news with would have been his mother, and with her gone he had no one else. No one else except the child now nestled inside the woman sitting opposite him. A feeling bloomed within his chest—pride tinged with a liberal dose of an emotion he’d had little enough experience with. Love. It was odd to think that he could love another being before it truly came into existence in the world, but he knew, without doubt, that he loved his child, and the intensity of the emotion shook him to his core.
* * *
Sally wasn’t sure what was going through Kirk’s mind, but if the determined look on his face was anything to go by, she was going to have some battles on her hands over the next few months. Probably over the next few years, she amended. He was a man used to having his way—it was inevitable that they were going to bump heads from time to time when it came to deciding what was best for the baby.
Her head swam. Discovering she was pregnant was shocking enough. Dealing with Kirk as her baby’s father was another matter entirely—especially now that he seemed to believe they should get married.
Over the past couple of years, life had shown her that you had to reach for the things that mattered most to you. Had to fight for them. Her best friend from college, Angel, who’d turned out to be a secret European princess, had shown her how important it was to follow and fight for your dream.
Dissatisfied with a politically arranged betrothal based only on expedience with no affection attached, Angel—or, Princess Mila, as she’d been officially known—had broken with tradition and done everything in her power to ensure she won her betrothed’s heart, even at the risk of losing him altogether.
Just weeks ago, they’d celebrated the christening of their first child, a little boy who would become crown prince of Sylvain—and to Sally’s eyes, when she’d visited to attend the ceremony, neither Angel nor King Thierry had ever looked happier or more fulfilled.
She wanted that. She wanted a man who would look at her the way King Thierry looked at Angel. There was no doubt in the world that Angel was his queen in every sense of the word. While Sally had always hoped to be a mother someday, she’d intended to start that stage of her life by finding the right man to be a husband and father first. Had planned to bring her child into a home already filled with love and trust. How could she have any of that with Kirk? She didn’t love him—she barely knew him. And trust? Not a chance. The only positive traits she could assign to him were his appearance, his bedroom skills and the fact that he seemed to be a very capable boss. Her boss, in fact. And that added another layer of complication.
Sally wanted a life that was lived with purpose. One that yielded great results for others as well as for herself. She wanted to make a difference, and she ached to fulfill her potential. It’s what she’d spent at least eight years of her life studying for and even more time interning at Harrison IT for. And yet despite her dreams, she continued to remain in the background. Knowing she was being held back by her phobia was one thing, but having a baby added a whole other layer to things.
Kirk had spoken of his career plans, but what would this do to her long-term goals? No matter what anyone said, life was very different for a woman in the workplace. That glass ceiling was still well and truly in place, and there were few women in the upper echelons of management. She’d hoped that one day, if she could overcome her phobia, she might earn a position up there. That the people she worked with would respect that she’d climbed her way up that corporate ladder, striving as hard as the rest of them.
No one would take her seriously if she was married to the vice president. Any advancement in her career would be looked upon as being won because of who she was, not what she brought to the role.
“Look,” she started. “I’ve got a lot to think about, and you’re right—I’m tired and I need an early night. Would you go, please?”
“You promise me you’ll have something to eat?”
She gave him an are-you-serious look.
“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up one hand. “Don’t shoot me for caring. You have no idea what it was like to watch you crumple like that this morning.”
He made it sound like he actually cared.
“I will have something to eat.”
“I cook a mean omelet. If you have eggs, I could make it for you.”
Her mouth watered. “Fine,” she said, making a sudden decision. “I’m going to grab a shower. I’m not sure what’s in the fridge, but go knock yourself out.”
Maybe once he fed her, he’d stop hovering over her like some overprotective parent. She stopped in her tracks. But that’s exactly what he was—a parent—and so was she. She shook her head, went through