Loads of steamy billionaire boss action in here!

THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE

Camille

The atmosphere in the casino was electric. All around me, faces were watching the game, sharing in my success, living vicariously. Through me. If you've ever been the center of attention, the one person in the room no one can keep their eyes off of, you know how addictive it is.

I wasn't addicted to gambling. I'd done it a couple of times and I'd won and lost. Nothing prolific, nothing to urge me to go there again.

But this, this was different. I was breathing my success; it had replaced the oxygen in the air. A downer of a night at a friend's party had driven us here. Sharon had left at midnight. One more round of Blackjack, I'd told myself, and I was leaving, too.

Everything changed, then. I started winning. Winning big. Winning big is addictive. The gasps and the cheers and the fan base you build when you're winning and winning and winning again are addictive. I never understood people who gave up everything for gambling. I still don't. I wasn't giving everything up, I was making the Casino cough up the dough.

A cute guy sat across from me and he made eye contact. Cerulean blue eyes. Flawless skin. A smile that made me weak at the knees. He was going to ask for my number after the game. Or ask for me to join him in his hotel room. Maybe we would have a couple of drinks before undressed me. Maybe he would dive between my legs without waiting, leading me to a different kind of climax than what I was running on now.

I was aware of my dress against my skin, my low neckline and what he saw. Caramel skin. Big curly hair. The swells of my breasts rising and falling with my breathing. My lips, full and plump and glossy. The money in front of me, making me worth it.

I played another hand. Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

He was looking at my cleavage when I looked at him again and I liked it. I wanted him to stare. After tonight, when I'd won my money back more than fivefold, I was going to make sure that he knew all about winning, too. The look in his eyes said it all. He wanted me.

"You should cash in," a woman said behind me and when I looked over my shoulder I frowned. She looked like the motherly type. Maybe even the grandmotherly. She still wore a mink stole the way they used to back in the day. Wrinkles on her face suggested she was too old to understand that I was building my own future here. I ignored her. I was on a roll.

Everything slowed down. My heart thundered in my ears. I felt the crowd around me draw a breath. I held my own. The electric blue eyes and the green felt table was the backdrop to my winning streak. After this, my life would never be the same.

I put the final card down. The dealer played his hand. Everything around me shattered. The crowd exhaled disappointment. The dealer won this hand and drew my money away from me. The whole pile of chips. I watched it move away from me in a blur. I looked up at Mr. Blue Eyes. He stood up without looking at me and sauntered away. I looked back at the chips, counting the white space between every heartbeat.

That woman had been right, I should have cashed my chips when I was ahead. And I had been right, too. My life would never be the same.

I had a hundred left in my pocket. A crumpled note that seemed forlorn and weary after the gold I'd had at my fingertips. I sat down at the bar and ordered vodka. A lot of it. I was going to drown my sorrows. If I ended up drowning myself in the process, so be it.

Somewhere Sharon arrived and grabbed me by the arm.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Camille?" Her tone was pitying, not angry. I let her pull me to my feet. The room spun. There were three bartenders when the whole night there had only been one. I felt like vomiting. This was what being a failure felt like. It tasted bitter in my throat.

"You could have used the last money to get a cab instead of drinking yourself into a stupor. I'm glad you called me instead of plastering yourself to a pavement."

I'd called her? I let Sharon steer me out of the door, through the parking lot, toward her car.

"You lost everything, didn't you?"

I couldn't hold it anymore and threw up on the tarmac right next to her car. I heaved and retched until there was nothing left.

"God, it's all on your dress. You couldn't have bent over first?"

I thought I had. A tissue appeared in front of me and I wiped my mouth. Sharon opened her car door.

"You owe me for the smell of puke that's going to linger for the next three months."

I owed her but there was no money. Didn't she know that? I put my head on my knees, smelling the coconut body butter I'd put on after showering to come out, mixed with the sweet-sour tinge of vomit. My head spun as fast as the wheels did as Sharon drove back to the dorm.

She parked and helped me out of the front seat like a child, steering me into the building. Inside I pulled my own clothes off. It felt like sandpaper on my skin. I needed to get out of it. The bed was softer than I remembered it. The room danced around me and threatened to make me throw up again but darkness closed in and I let it take over. This was much better than vomiting and spinning. Sharon said something but I was too busy concentrating on the darkness coming at me to save me.

When I opened my eyes light pierced my eyes and I complained, closing them again. My head throbbed. I rolled over, my head lolling off the bed. The cold air in the room tingled over my skin and I sat up. Too fast. The world spun around me.

God, how much did I drink? I pressed the palm against my head, trying to calm the fluttering pain. It didn't help. I was naked and hungover over and...

The events of the night before rushed toward me and hit me in the face like a physical punch. My stomach turned and I scrambled to the bathroom, making it all the way to the toilet. It tasted like old alcohol and despair. I hugged the toilet for half an hour before sitting back. Fifty grand. That was how much I'd lost.

No, I'd lost a lot more. I'd started off with fifty grand. I'd doubled it and doubled it again and one more time before I'd lost it. I pulled myself up over the basin and splashed water on my face. Reality was a cold hearted bitch.

What was I going to do? My mom had given me everything she had to finish my degree, to take care of myself while I was away from home. She'd been a hairdresser all her life with nothing more than a diploma. She'd given me that money so that I could make more of myself than she'd been able to.

I'd meant to make the money more. My car was on the verge of breaking down so I had to keep taking the bus. I needed new clothes. I wanted new clothes. I'd wanted to make the money more.

Instead, I'd lost it all. I was studying finances. I should have understood the concept of probability. I should have known better.

Should have, would have, could have. Those never helped anyone. They sure as shit wouldn't help me.

I needed to make a plan to get money. I couldn't tell Mama. If she found out what I'd done she would never forgive me. She wouldn't be angry. She would be disappointed. The worst thing in the world was to disappoint Mama.

I showered in the dorm showers and got dressed. I took two Aspirin, a glass of tomato juice from my little fridge, and felt just as shit as before. This was going to be the darkest day of my life.

A newspaper was in on a table in the communal area and I tucked it under my arm. I went downstairs and waited for the bus. I needed to start looking for a job to earn back that money if I wanted to pay my way through school at all. The movement in the bus made me wonder if I was going to throw up again. Would it wash out of the suede jacket of the woman next to me?

I opened the newspaper, hoping it would distract me from my rolling stomach. My head pounded. The letters danced in front of my eyes. The chances were slim but at this point, all a girl like me could do was hope.

I browsed through the classifieds. All the jobs that had money worth working for needed the education I was still in the process of getting. All the other jobs - waitressing, cleaning, tutoring - didn't pay nearly enough to make it worth my time or my degree. I closed my eyes and opened then again. Bad idea with the bus swaying from side to side.

I paged through the rest of the newspaper. On the page with the Homosexual and Adult Services ads, something caught my eye. Buried between the Immorals was an ad for a Surrogate Mother. Someone needed a belly to breed a baby in. The payment? Fifty thousand dollars.

Exactly what I needed.

How long would I have to stay away from my mom for, nine months? I only saw her every six months as it was to save on traveling costs. If I skipped once I could have the baby and be done when I finally went back home. Mama would never have to know.

I looked at the ad again. A surrogate mother. The truth was, I’d done worse.

Mark

I had both hands on the steering wheel to ground myself. Marina sat next to me, fussing with her shirt. I glanced at her. Her blond hair fell in a curtain and I couldn't see her face.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She turned her head and I knew I would see her face now if I looked. I didn't look. I knew what her face would look like. Lately, she'd been looking at me with this unbelieving expression.

"We talked about this, Mark. We can't just turn around and go home now. The interview is set up. Do you want to leave her hanging?"

I shook my head. My knuckles were turning white. God forbid I should leave someone else hanging. Marina was getting what she wanted. This woman we were going to meet, the one that was supposed to carry my baby, was getting what she wanted. What about me? Was I going to get what I wanted?

Marina had always wanted a child. It was one of the things on her to-do list when we got married. It hadn't bothered me then that she had this list, that she had a timeline. It should have. I should have asked her if I could see the list and checked if I was on par with her.

The house had been fine when we'd bought it but she'd needed an interior decorator to redo the whole thing. Why hadn't we just bought somewhere else if she was unhappy? When I'd asked her she'd told me it wasn't her fault I didn't care what other people thought of us. I didn't understand why it mattered when we were happy. Maybe that was what she meant.

When I had the opportunity for a raise but it would take me away from her, she'd urged me to do it. We would just grow sick of each other if we spent the rest of our lives in each other's personal space. I thought that was the point of marriage. She was happy being the housewife while I slaved at the office. Maybe it helped that my PA was too old to be attractive. Maybe Marina knew that I would always come home to her no matter how many reasons she gave me not to.

"You have to take Seventh," Marina said. She fussed with her blouse again.

"You look fine."

"I look old."

I frowned and looked at her. I was forty. She was four years younger. We'd been married for nine years. I was sure she'd married me for my money but I'd never asked. It would have been rude. The doctor had said it wasn't due to her age she couldn't fall pregnant. She blamed me for waiting too long.

I wasn't sure if she understood that I wasn't ready to be a father. The same way I hadn't been ready to be a husband when she'd put forward an ultimatum. We'd been dating for three years at that point. Marriage or breakup. That was it for me.

I hadn't wanted to lose her. Too often I wondered how my life would have been if I'd chosen myself over her instead.

I'd grown used to being a husband. Maybe I would grow used to being a father, too.

We parked in front of the St. Joseph Hospital and got out of the car. I tugged on my tie. Marina's heels clacked on the tarmac and then on the linoleum as we walked into the building. The air inside the hospital was cool. It smelled clinical. Doctor Kamal was in his office when he arrived and he smiled, his teeth white against his coffee colored skin.

"She's ready for you," he said in his American accent that sounded out of place against his Indian appearance. He gestured toward the room where we were going to conduct the interview and Marina walked first, all business. We were talking about the body that would host her baby - our baby - after all.

She was a slight thing, with big brown eyes and even bigger hair and a caramel colored skin. Her lips were a pinkish red and stretched as she smiled. She looked young, healthy, fit. The right kind of body for a baby. Not like Marina's who was patched up with makeup to hide the wrinkles, who had had two plastic surgeries on her breasts to make her body seem as young as she wanted to feel.

"Camille Tyson?" Marina asked. The girl nodded. "We're the Owens. I'm Marina, and this is my husband, Mark."

I held out a hand and Camille took it. Her skin was soft and warm. She wore jeans so tight it looked painted on and a loose shirt that had settled around her breasts, outlining her body. Hourglass figure. Narrow waist. Upright. None of that mattered.

We sat down on opposite sides of the coffee table that was littered with maternity magazines. One was open. Camille had been reading.

"Do you understand what we're expecting of you?" Marina asked. She spoke to Camille like she was a child. Camille nodded.

"Carry the baby to term."

"Our baby," Marina emphasized. Camille nodded. She didn't look like the kind of person that could do with a baby of her own right now. I knew exactly how she felt.

"All your expenses will be paid for the duration of the pregnancy," I said. Marina glanced at me. We hadn't discussed this but I'd decided it for myself. Marina did her best to spend as much as she could of it, but in the end, it was still my money. An expression flicked over Camille's face when I said it but it was too quick for me to read.

"How long do you need to think about this?" Marina took out her handheld and poised the stylus. "We are in a bit of a hurry, you can imagine."

She was in a hurry. I wished she would stop saying we and us like this was something I'd been dreaming of feverishly.

"I don't need to think about this." Camille looked from Marina to me and back. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown. The kind that reminded me of varnished wood, dark, rich.

"You're sure?"

She nodded. "I'm ready to go when you are."

Marina looked at me and there was pure happiness in her eyes. I couldn't remember when last she'd looked at me like that. Her eyes seemed a brighter green than usual and for a second I thought that maybe, just maybe, this would be a turning point for us. Maybe this would be the impossible miracle to save us rather than the spiral of despair I'd come to see it as.

We got up, said our goodbyes and waited in the interview room until Camille left.

"She's very tan," Marina said when we were alone.

"Does that matter? Our baby will have our genes. It's not necessary to discriminate."

"She's young, too."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe it will work, then."

The quip was unnecessary and I regretted it the moment I said it, but it was too late to take it back. I would man up and mean it. I wasn't going to grovel. Marina's face was an expressionless blank and when Doctor Kamal cleared his throat in the door we both plastered our perfect smiles on and walked into his office.

"I have more interviews set up for you," he said.

"That's not necessary." I was the one that spoke up. Marina had opened her mouth to say something, maybe she wanted to see more girls. I was happy with Camille. "We want Camille."

See, I could do we and us when Marina didn't want it, too. She glared at me but I ignored her.

"She's ready to start, so all that's left is to set a date."

Doctor Kamal nodded. He glanced at Marina but she was pouting like a child. She would sulk before the rest of the day and if I didn't do something special for her we would fight. We could go out for dinner later, blow a grand. She would forget. If I threw money at her everything was right with the world. I wondered when I'd stopped seeing that as a problem. Maybe when that had gotten easier than trying to argue with her.

"I'll have to do a couple of tests, do some checkups on all of you, and then we can start harvesting."

He made it sound terrible, like were crops and we were ready for picking. That was how it would work, though. My side would be easy - a cup and a porn magazine. Marina's would be more invasive. I was glad she was the woman.

"I'll phone you and let you know a date. I have to congratulate you on this, though, Mr. and Mrs. Owen. The next step is parenthood."

He smiled. We smiled. None of us meant it. I wondered if he knew how worried I was. Maybe he just knew how hard life with Marina would be for the next couple of days. Maybe he was just using a business smile and he didn't care about me and my personal life at all.

Either way, this was happening. Smile and wave.

Camille

I had an appointment with the doctor. Three weeks and it hadn't really sunk in. I was sure it would only happen when the baby was inside of me. I was doing this for Mama. She deserved this from me, even if she didn't know about it.

St. Joseph hospital was big and intimidating. It was a labyrinth of sick people and science and I didn't feel like I belonged. I was scheduled for a checkup with the Doctor Kamal that the Owens were using for the surrogacy. He was nice enough but it made me nervous. I'd only ever gone to female gynecologists.

When I finally found his office Mark Owen leaned against the wall. His eyes were closed and he looked tired. Gray had started creeping up his brown sideburns and when he opened his eyes he looked like he'd been far away.

"Sorry," I said, not knowing what I was apologizing for. He shook his head and smiled. It looked like the smile had fought through a lot of unhappiness before it surfaced.

"Don't be. I was just waiting to talk to Doctor Kamal, I don't have an appointment. Are you here for your checkup?"

I nodded. I was aware of what I'd chosen to wear. Cutoff jeans, a shirt that showed my stomach. I would have dressed differently if I'd known he would be here.

"Can I ask you a question?"

When people started their sentence with that I always tried to brace myself. Usually, it meant they were going to get personal. I nodded. I was curious now that he'd posed the question.

"Do you feel forced into this? Because if you do you need only to give the word and you'll be released from the contract. It's early enough. The moment you're pregnant..."

I knew what he was asking me. I had the feeling he wasn't asking me because he thought I felt stuck, though. I had been on board with this from the start. Of course, I had been forced into this situation through my own stupidity but that was beside the point.

"I'm perfectly happy to continue," I said. His eyes searched my face for a moment like he wanted to be sure I wasn't lying, and then he nodded.

"Good. I'm glad." We stood side by side in silence for a while. He looked at me again. "Are you still studying?"

I nodded. "Finance. I just started Third Year. One more year to go."

He nodded. There was silence again. I cleared my throat.

"What do you do?"

"I own a string of investment businesses. It's passive income, really. I worked hard when I was younger but now it's really just about managing it."

I nodded. "That sounds like the way to go." I'd noticed his suit and her clothes at the interview. Her earrings had had gems in them. I'd been sure they were the real deal. She'd had a ring on her finger with a diamond so big I would be nervous to walk around in public with it. I hadn't seen their car but I was sure it was a fancy one. These people had a lot of money. I wondered what it would be like to live a life where money was never an object.

"It's better than having to work my fingers to the bone every day," Mark agreed.

"You and Marina can spend a lot of time together, then."

He sighed. "When the baby arrives I expect she'll be too busy for that."

That didn't sound very cheerful. I carefully pushed forward. I never knew when to stop.

"You'll have time together as new parents, that's always fun."

He looked at me and his eyes were sad even though his face was kind and businesslike. His poker face, I thought.

"She's really the one who wants the baby. I'm not sure I'm ready to be a father and I'm sure she'll end up hiring a nanny, anyway. I can't imagine she'll give up her precious time to plod around with a child."

That didn't make a lot of sense. "You're not happy about having a baby?"

He shook his head. "It's not that I won't love the child, but I don't know how to adjust our lifestyle and I believe it's wrong to let a stranger raise him or her. Marina loves the idea of being a mother. I'm not sure if the practicality of it will appeal to it. And I don't know if I have what it takes to be a father in the true sense of the word. I know what it's like to have someone around that helped with the reproduction process - as my father did - but I want to be able to be there morally, emotionally."

It was noble. He'd really given this a lot of thought. And he sounded sure he didn't want to take this road.

"Why don't you speak to Marina about it?"

He chuckled without emotion at it and after a while of silence, I realized that was the only answer I was going to get. He glanced at his wristwatch.

"I have to get going," he said. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. I'll have to schedule a meeting with Doctor Kamal. Good luck to you, and I'll see you soon."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Owen."

"Mark, please." He smiled and it looked genuine for the first time. He walked down the corridor. I watched him leave. His square shoulders were stiff and upright. His dark hair brushed his collar. He walked with determination. He was a man that knew what he wanted. I felt sorry for him that he was so sure this was something he didn't want.

I realized how ironic it was that I felt sorry for him. He was established in life, distinguished as a gentleman, obviously, with a hell of a lot of money and a bombshell of a wife on his arm. He didn't look happy. I imagined people had to be happy about having a baby. Of course, there were always some scenarios where having a baby wasn't the highlight of their lives.

Still, this was a choice for both of them. I wondered what she was like when she didn't have her perfect speech on, all her make-up and jewelry, her expensive clothes. Who was Marina, that Mark Owen seemed unhappy about his position in life when he really had everything anyone would ever want?

I closed my eyes and pictured him smiling the way he'd smiled when he said I could call him Mark. That smile had been dazzling. It was a glimpse into who he really once. Once upon I time I imagined him to be very charming, suave, gentile. The kind of man that was attractive to every woman. Not that he wasn't attractive now.

He still had a very striking face, square jaw, nose as straight as an arrow. His hair was luscious and thick - men were always so damn lucky when we needed product for our hair - and it hadn't been slicked back this time like it had been last time.

I wondered what it would feel like if I pushed my hands into it.

I opened my eyes. What the hell was I thinking? He was married. Married and about to be a father. I'd met his wife. And he was like, twice my age. The thought was completely inappropriate. His eyes had slid over my body when I'd arrived but that part had been my fault. I should have dressed differently.

I couldn't think like that about him. He was married, not happily but still, and he was old. He was everything I should never want.

After the pep talk to myself, the stern admonishing, I felt better. It was just a thought, anyway. Nothing more, and only after he'd left. It wasn't like I was perverted. I just knew how to appreciate something good when I saw it. That was it.

Doctor Kamal's door finally opened.

"Camille, I'm so sorry. I had to take care of an emergency. Please, come in.” The thought about Mark slipped away as nerves took its place. I walked into the office and took a deep breath.

I was scared now. This wasn't implantation yet, but it suddenly hit me what I was doing. What would Sharon say? She had her head screwed on right. She would never make the mistakes I made. She would never end up in a situation like this.

The money. I had to keep my mind on the money. There were worse ways to get it. This was all just clinical, an experiment, if you will.

My stomach turned to stone and I struggled to breathe. I was going to panic.

"Just relax," Doctor Kamal said. Easy for him to say. He wasn't on the receiving end. Just relax. Bah.

Nine and a bit months from now it would all be over.

I just had to keep telling myself that.

Mark

I felt like an idiot when I left the hospital. I was Mark Owen, entrepreneur, billionaire, soon-to-be father. I was calm and confident and controlled. This was what people said about me when I turned my back, when my name up in conversation. I was never involved in scandal, I adored my wife, doted on her, I had everything I could have asked for. My life was perfect.

At least, that was what I'd lead everyone to believe. It was easier to put on a smile when someone looked at me than to admit that something was wrong. It was easier, still, than to have to explain that I lived a life I regretted if I thought about it too much, that I may have been hasty saying yes to an ultimatum, that I may have been giving in - or giving up - when I'd agreed to having a child with Marina.

I wasn't ready for any of this. I didn't miss the bachelor life, but I missed a life that belonged to me. I missed being able to be myself and to feel like that was enough. It's a hell of a thing to be missing. It's almost like losing someone you loved and your life is forever empty after that, no matter who else attempts to take their place. The only problem was that the only person I lost was myself and no one was going to comfort me, telling me there was a chance, hope, something that might lead to better days.

When people were around me, when they asked, I smiled and told them I had nothing to complain about.

I hadn't expected Camille to come down to the hospital. Of course, there was no way I would have been able to know if she would or wouldn't come, but I would have been more prepared if I'd thought someone I knew would be walking toward me. I'd been emotional and vulnerable and as a result I'd said things that I didn't usually talk about.

It wasn't all me, though. There was something about her that made it easy to talk to her. She was comfortable to be around. I hadn't felt that around people since... I wasn't sure if I could remember if I'd felt that comfortable with anyone at all. I'd told her all sorts of things that wasn't her business. I should have kept my mouth shut and used my stick on smile.

Had she felt it too, though? Had she felt the connection? She hadn't seemed disappointed in me, like I was someone different than she'd expected me to be. She'd just listened. I wondered if she knew how rare that was. I wondered if anyone had the capacity to listen anymore. The people in my life, in my circles were only interested in talking about themselves. Marina's voice was the loudest in that regard. If they weren't discussing themselves, they were discussing someone else. Gossip or gloating. Those were the topics du jour.

I shook off the thought. I shouldn't be thinking about Camille. Well, thinking about her was the right thing to do - she was going to 'house' our baby for the next nine months - but I had to think about her as someone that needed an allowance to keep the child safe and nothing else.

She was pretty. Her eyes were big and round and caring and thoughtful. Her mouth was quick to smile. Her hair was big and messy and suited her perfectly. Everything about her shouted individuality, freedom, life. Everything that felt absent from my life now that I'd settled down with someone that...

I shook my head, trying to physically remove the thoughts from my mind. Pretty college girls weren't going to be on my mind. I was on the way to fatherhood. Marina was going to be a mother, it was what she always wanted and I'd found a way to give it to her. She was my wife and my sole goal in life was to make sure she was happy. I was going to give her everything she needed because that was what I'd promised to do when I'd married her. For better or worse. Even if it was worse far more often than it was better. Even though sometimes I wasn't sure if I should have meant it, I did at the time.

She deserved me to be devoted and loyal and that was what I was going to be.

When I arrived home Marina was on the couch, drinking glass of wine. Now that we weren't trying to have a baby anymore she could drink all she wanted again. Sometimes she had more than I liked but we were both adults. She could make her own choices.

I stooped over to kiss her. She turned her cheek to me. I pretended it didn't sting and sat down next to her.

"How was your day?"

She nodded, not looking at me. "Sonya says Charlene and Mike are getting a divorce. We knew it was coming but now that it's actually happening it seems surreal, doesn't it?"

I nodded. The lifestyle of the rich and famous. Gossip, gossip, gossip.

"Have you heard from Doctor Kamal?"

She nodded and took another sip of her wine.

"Implantation is set for the thirtieth of May. I got off the phone with him just before you arrived."

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. The marble tiles underneath my feet were spotless, gleaming. The imperfections, the veins of darker stone that ran through them, was part of their makeup. No matter how often you polished them. That was why marble was so beautiful. I wondered if that counted for me, too.

I'd wanted to talk to the doctor before we set a date. I wanted to ask him if he thought this was a good idea. I'd needed a professional opinion, a voice that wasn't involved. It was too late, now.

"Have you been out today?" I asked. I preferred Marina to go out from time to time just to get out of the house.

She finished the wine in her glass and put it on the coffee table. I frowned and moved it onto a coaster.

"I had coffee with Mavis."

"Who?"

She looked at me like I should have known who that was. "I told you about her, Mark. At least, try to pretend you're interested when I speak."

Mavis, Carla, Sonya, Danielle, the names had started merging into a sea of facts that I struggled to keep up with. I knew their husbands, we worked together or played golf together or saw each other at the gentleman's club, but I didn't care about their lives the way Marina did. I cared about escaping it all. Marina cared about submerging herself deeper and deeper.

"What are we doing for supper tonight? Shall I order in?"

Marina stood up and checked herself in the mirror. She fluffed her hair. She pulled her blouse down, stretching it over her cleavage. She reapplied lipstick on already too-red lips. When had she become this woman? When had I stopped seeing her the way I used to? Which image had been true and which had been an illusion?

"Let's rather go out. I want to celebrate the implantation, have a bit more to drink before I have to sober up for the harvesting."

Right, as long as we could show face in public, spend an obscene amount of money, be somewhere we're forced to have a civil conversation with each other. She turned to me.

"Is that alright, honey?"

I nodded and smiled my million-dollar smile.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Camille

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. My head felt like and airy like I'd been drinking, but if I had then I wouldn't be feeling like that anymore. I'd be hanging. A sharp chemical smell pinched my nose and the beeping of monitors pulled me back to reality.

I was in the hospital. The implantation. The baby. I wasn't going to be drinking for a couple of months. No hangovers for me. My head throbbed all the same so I closed my eyes again.

Something pinched my hand. It was a dull pain, one that I felt strangely numb to. When I moved it slightly something tugged on it and the pain became sharper. The IV needle in my skin. I remembered hyperventilating when they'd stuck it in me. I was terrified of needles. I'd passed out almost immediately when they'd given me the anesthetic because my breathing had been so fast. Maybe that was why my head was swimming.

Low voices drew my attention as if I was coming out of a fog and all my senses were sharpening. I focused on them. It was soothing to know I wasn't alone.

I recognized the voices, too. Mark, with his rich voice, and Marina with her specific accent, the one that suggested she came from the south. I was going to hear their voices for a while.

"I'm not saying I don't want to have a party. I'm just asking we wait for a couple of days. The implantation just happened."

"It's not like she's going to be there, and I'm not pregnant, Mark. There's no reason to wait. Why don't you want our friends to know about the baby?"

"I don't mind telling them. I'm happy for the world to know that we're expanding our family. I'm just asking for a few days. I want us just to be us first before we settle into the gossip channel again."

This conversation wasn't a happy one. Listening in wasn't soothing and I felt like somehow I was eavesdropping. I opened my eyes and tried to sit up.

"No, lie down," Mark said as I'd expected he would. I'd just wanted to stop their argument. When I looked at him he had a hundred-watt smile plastered on his face. Marina was smiling, too, when I looked at her. She put her hand on my leg and rubbed it through the blankets.

"How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," I said. They were acting like everything was perfectly fine. Marina smiled, stretched her hand over the bed to Mark. He hesitated only a fraction of a second before he took it. They were united, a couple, smiling, in love. But the hesitation had been there. The smile wasn't a hundred percent genuine. I thought couples who were ready for a baby were in love, happy together. I thought that people with everything they could ever dream of couldn't find a reason not to be happy together.

Maybe I thought wrong.

"Doctor Kamal said the implantation went really well. We're so happy." Marina really did look happy. I glanced at Mark. He wasn't sure about being a father. He looked happy, too, though. How good was his poker face? Or had he changed his mind?

"So that's it?" I asked. "I'm pregnant?"

"Potentially," Doctor Kamal's voice came from the door. "We just need to make sure everything's going the way we planned. We have a few days where we'll all be holding our breath. I wouldn't pop the champagne - or in Camille's case, the fruit juice - just yet."

Mark gave Marina a pointed look, but it was over so fast I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it.

"I want you to come back in the next three days and we'll do a scan, see what's going on in there. I'm sure it will all be fine, but it will be good to know for sure we're in the clear."

He put a hand on Marina's shoulder. His hand was dark against the butter yellow of her blouse, the wheat color of her hair. Bottle blond? Surely not. That would be cheap.

"Thank you for everything," Mark said and held out his hand. Doctor Kamal removed his hand from Marina's shoulder to shake Mark's hand.

"We have a long road ahead of us but we're off to a good start. That's always a great sign."

Marina nodded and smiled. Mark just smiled. Doctor Kamal excused himself and left the room. Mark sat down again. For a moment a very awkward silence hung between us.

"Are you carrying on with your classes for the duration of the pregnancy?" Marina asked. I nodded. I couldn't afford to stop it all now. That was what this was all for.

Marina's cell phone rang and she left the room to answer. Mark was left alone with me. He cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the bed. I wasn't sure what he was nervous about but his list was getting increasingly long.

"I want you to keep in touch with us, let us know how things are going. We'll be there during the sonar scans and I'll send you a check once a month for your allowance, anything you need."

My head was still spinning from the medication but the concept an allowance every month made me feel like I was floating. I'd been stressing about money so badly. I could pay my studies with it and make sure I had all my books.

"Thank you so much."

Mark shook his head. "Whatever you need, Camille."

His eyes fell on mine and they were drowning deep. He smiled and the small wrinkles around his eyes fanned out, changing his face completely. A real smile was so much hotter on him than a fake one. The air around us changed. It got thicker and I struggled to breathe.

"It can't be easy sacrificing nine months of your student life to have someone else's baby."

The current in the air broke and I felt like gasping for air, the disappointment hitting me square in the chest. Of course, the baby. Whatever I needed to make sure the baby was healthy and safe. God, I was such a fool. It had to be the meds in my system making me think stupid shit like Mark actually caring about me as a person. He was married with a baby on the way - I was the surrogate mom - and I was here thinking all sorts of romantic thoughts about him. I had to be high on medication.

Marina came back into the room. Her eyes were sparkling. When she looked at Mark it was like she dimmed a little. Or was I just dreaming? I was building stories around Mark's confession, the small snippet of an argument I'd heard, what I wanted from Mark. It would be convenient for me if he was interested in me and the spark between him and his wife had died. It would be perfectly disgusting, in fact. It was disgusting that I'd thought it at all.

What a bitch I was being. Here they were, on their way to starting a family together, and I was being nasty about it.

"We have to get going, honey," Marina said. Mark nodded and looked at me.

"Will you be fine?" I took it for what it was this time - a question about the carrier of his baby - and nodded. "You'll probably be able to go back to your dorm in the morning."

I nodded again and smiled at them. Marina leaned over me and gave me an awkward hug.

"Thank you so much for what you're doing for us. We're happier than you know."

She touched my face and they left my room. Her perfume lingered around me after they'd gone. That was what it was all about. They were happy together. They wanted this baby together. I was being ridiculous. I was going to carry this through, give them what they deserved, and behave, otherwise.

I closed my eyes again, suddenly tired. This was going to be a long road; the Doctor had said. I agreed with him. Classes, tests, exams, pregnancy. I was going to juggle it all. I just had to tell Sharon. She still didn't know. I wasn't sure how to say it to her.

It was something I could worry about later, though. Right now, sleep sounded like the best plan. I took a deep breath, let it out again, and let the medication in my system drag me under again to a deep, warm, black hole.

Mark

We had a baby on the way. We had a baby room ready from all the times we'd been trying. We - or at least, I - looked at finances. It wasn't necessary, of course, I would always have enough to care for the child. I did it anyway. Another responsibility, another life, another person in my life that was somehow dependent on me. We announced it to our friends before I felt comfortable with the idea but she waited as long as she was willing to, which was more than she initially would have if I hadn't fought her with it.

Celebrations had happened. They were planning a baby shower. They were just waiting until we knew what the gender was, what colors to arrange. Blue or pink. Yellow, green, gray, those were out. Those were for people who didn’t know, people who didn’t plan right. Materialism could run as far as colors when you had enough money. Sometimes I didn’t understand who Marina had become.

I sent Camille a check for the first two months. I didn’t mail it the third. I got in the car, the check signed and in an envelope on my passenger seat, and I drove to the college where she studied. I needed to get out of the house. It was one of the biggest houses in the neighborhood, the most expensive. I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I was in it, like it was too small, closing down on me, suffocating me. Of course, I was just being dramatic. My life was perfect. Everybody told me so. Most days I told that to myself, too. There had been a time when I believed my own lies, but somewhere along the way I’d learned not to trust myself when I told myself how happy I was. That was the start of a very slippery slope.

The dorm was a lot like the one where I’d studied, a thousand years ago. It felt like a different life, now, a different person altogether. The brown bricks had faded to a deep, dark color. The steps up to the front door were hollowed out they’d seen so many students’ feet and everywhere there was the sign of life and ambition, sparkling eyes, new goals, the beginning of a journey. Don’t trust the golden glow, I wanted to tell them, there’s still a chance you can end up like me.

Her door was closed and music came from underneath it, a tune that crawled under my skin. I knocked on the door, loudly, so she could hear me.

The door opened and the music rolled out of it. She stood in front of me wearing pajama bottoms that only covered the most important bits and a t-shirt with Sylvester and Tweety on it. Long, caramel legs went on forever. Her curly hair was pulled back, emphasizing big, surprised eyes.

“Mark.”

I nodded.

She leaned to the side and the music clicked off. I wanted it back. It had been warm and comfortable. I held up the envelope.

“I brought you your check.”

She took it from me, tracing a finger around the corner before looking up at me.

“Trouble at the post office,” I lied. I didn’t have a good reason to be here and now I felt out of place. I could be any of these kids’ father. Soon I would be. The idea made me feel like I was choking.

“Are you alright?” Camille asked and she sounded worried. A teenager was worried about me, one of the wealthiest men in town.

“Fine, fine.” I waved my hand.

“Do you want to come in?”

I peered over her shoulder into the dorm room. It was small, cozy, full of posters and books. I shouldn’t say yes. I should turn around and go home, I knew that. I nodded and stepped into the room when she held open the door.

It was warm in her room. Comfortable. She cleared the chair for me, stacking the books on her desk instead so that I could sit down and climbed on her bed. She crossed her legs and pushed a pillow into her lap. Thank God. Her legs were so damn distracting.

“Are you enjoying your studies?” I asked. The books on the desk were all finance books. Terribly boring for someone so out there as Camille. She looked like she should be doing art or music or drama instead.

She shrugged. “It’s a degree. I can get a job with it. It’s something my family hasn’t had for a while. The degree, I mean.”

I nodded.

“Your family must be proud.”

I thought about the baby. The girl sitting opposite me was pregnant with my child. My and Marina’s child.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I felt like an idiot the moment I asked. That shouldn’t matter.

She chuckled and the sound of her laughter was light and airy. Her eyes sparkled and I liked seeing her smile.

“Between having a baby and studying finances I won’t have much time for dating.”

Right. The baby. It wouldn’t work if she was in a relationship. I should have known.

“I am sure they’re all falling at your feet, though, a gorgeous girl like you.”

I snapped my mouth shut the moment I’d said it, wondering where the hell that had come from. I wasn’t flirting with her, was I? I was just making conversation. That was it. When I looked at her again she was smiling but the smile was softer than before. She shrugged with one shoulder and her breasts moved underneath her shirt. I forced my eyes away.

“I don’t really think I’m cut out for dating,” she said. She was volunteering information. I paid attention, taking the distraction.

“Why?”

She shrugged. I kept my eyes glued to her face. “I just don’t think I’d be good in a relationship. I can’t seem to figure out what I want, and no one wants someone like that.”

I frowned. “You’d be surprised how many people out there have no idea what they’re doing.”

Like me. I had no idea. I wasn’t going to admit to that, though.

“You have Marina.”

She just had to point that out. I nodded. “I do. But sometimes I wonder if I’ve done the wrong thing. If I married the wrong woman.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. Thin and manicured eyebrows. Everything about her was natural and beautiful.

“That’s a very heavy statement for someone who’s about to have a baby.”

I nodded. I knew it was. I should have kept my mouth shut. Instead, I kept talking like I was drunk or something. I just couldn’t help it. There was something about Camille that made me feel like saying what I wanted to say wasn’t wrong, like she wouldn’t judge me for it. When was the last time I felt like I could tell Marina anything?

“How do you know if it’s the right woman?” she asked. It was a fair question. It was the kind of question she was entitled to ask at her age. I should have asked someone that question when I was her age.

“I think it has to be someone you’re comfortable with, someone you can talk to. Someone you run to when you feel like everything is crashing around you.”

I stopped talking. Those words described her in a lot of ways. Thank God she didn’t know what I was thinking. She nodded and fiddled with the edge of the pillow.

“Sometimes the person you’re comfortable with isn’t the person anyone that makes sense, though. Sometimes things can get really crazy.”

Was she talking about me? Of course not. I was being ridiculous now. I was just in a bad place. And the wrong place. I shouldn’t be here. I slapped my hands down on my knees and got up.

“I have to get going.”

I walked to the door. Camille got off her bed and that put her right up against me. I heard her breath catch in her throat. I was aware of how close she was. I pushed the thoughts away. I was being ridiculous. Marina. I had to think of Marina and the baby. The baby Camille was carrying.

Shit.

I pushed the thoughts away and she pulled the door open for me.

“Thank you for the money.”

I nodded without looking at her and walked away. I waited until I heard the door click shut. It felt like it took forever. When it finally did, I turned around and looked back.

The drive home was restless. I felt like there were bugs on my skin. My clothes irritated me. The traffic was too heavy, I was edgy and irritated. I had to go to the office to pick up the documents I needed to send off but I didn’t feel like all the glass and chrome – another prison. Instead, I just drove home.

There was a car in the driveway, one I didn’t recognize. I opened the front door.

“Honey?”

No answer. The lounge was empty. No one on the terrace. I started up the stairs. The house was quiet. Quiet and full, like a secret, not like loneliness. I pushed the bedroom door open.

She was on the bed, naked. Her blond hair hung down her back. Hands gripped her hips, dark against her light skin. I knew what I was seeing but I didn’t feel anything. I cleared my throat.

She whipped her head around and her face changed to a mask of horror. She tumbled off the man she’d been fucking and clutched the sheets to her chest like I hadn’t seen her naked before. I looked at him. Doctor Kamal.

“Mark.” Her voice was pleading. He looked at me, frozen, unsure what I was going to do.

“I’m going to go for a drive,” I said. My voice was calm. It sounded distant like it didn’t belong to me. “When I get back I would like for you to be dressed.” I looked at Kamal. “And you… you had better be gone by the time I get back.”

The last sentence was a threat. My calm voice made it sound that much more menacing. I turned around and walked back downstairs, taking my car keys from the counter. I didn’t know this person. I didn’t know myself. Then again, when last had I known myself?

Camille

My doctor’s visit was coming up. I was starting to get nervous. I’d been to the doctor jut after implantation to make sure everything had gone well, but after that, it had been life as normal. Except for the fact that I couldn’t drink and that I threw up all the time. Why did they call it morning sickness? It hit you any damn time of the day.

Sharon and a few other friends knew what I was doing. They all thought I was crazy. Sharon thought I was making a mistake but at least she understood why I was doing it. She’d been there when I’d lost all that money, after all.

I couldn’t get through to Marina. I’d tried to call her a couple of times during the last week but there was no answer. I wanted her to be there when we found out the baby’s sex. I expected she wanted to be there.

I’d tried calling Mark, too. He was just as unreachable. I wasn’t sure where I stood with him if I had to be honest. I felt like he was very raw and open toward me. I didn’t mind it – in fact, I liked it – but I wasn’t sure how he saw it. Still, I needed to get a hold of one of them before the doctor’s visit. It was their baby, after all.

Two days before the appointment I skipped my last class and got on the bus. It took me all the way across town. I got off and walked the last few blocks to the address that was on Mark’s check. I stopped in front of the house and double checked the address.

The house was enormous, the way you saw on the MTV sometimes. Through the slatted gate I could see everything. The driveway led up to a modern block of a house, painted a sandy color with plants everywhere that made it rich and exotic.

I took a deep breath. Of course, if they had so much money to spend on a surrogate mother they had to be rich. I pressed the button on the intercom. A little round lens told me he’d be able to see my face when he answered. Or Marina. She could answer, too, obviously.

“Camille?” It was his voice crackling over the speakers and I breathed easier. She made me nervous.

“Hi, yeah. It’s Camille.”

The gate rolled open and I walked in. I was starting to show a belly, not much but it was something, and my energy wasn’t what it used to be. The front door opened before I reached it. Mark looked tired when I finally stood in front of him. He hadn’t shaven in a few days, stubble shabby on his chin and he had circles under his eyes suggested he’d slept very little or not at all. He stepped to the side to let me in.

“Is everything alright?” He sounded a little worried. “Is the baby okay?”

I nodded. “As far as I know everything is fine, but I couldn’t get a hold of either of you. I have an appointment coming up, we’re supposed to meet with Doctor Kamal the day after tomorrow to find out the baby’s gender.”

Mark nodded and walked through to the kitchen. I followed him. The house was as luxurious on the inside as on the outside. There were paintings on the wall, original stuff, and furniture that probably cost more than my entire degree a piece. Mark stood in the kitchen.

“It’s a little chaotic at the moment. I think we might need to postpone the doctor’s appointment.”

I frowned and looked around. The house was quiet. Empty.

“Is Marina okay? Is she ill?”

Mark shook his head. “No, she’s not here. Unfortunately, Marina and Doctor Kamal had an understanding that was a little more personal than I would have liked.”

I frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

Mark sighed. “She’s sleeping with the good doctor.”

I stilled. My hand rose slowly to my mouth.

“Oh, my God.”

“I know.”

That was disgusting.

“But you’re having a baby.”

Mark shrugged. He had the air of someone who didn’t care but judging by his looks – his exhaustion, his neglect – he really cared. I wanted to be able to comfort him, help him. I felt sorry for him. I thought about the baby.

“What’s happening now with the pregnancy?”

The baby needed a home. A real one. Not a broken one. A mom and a dad.

“You do still want it, right?” I couldn’t be left with the child. I needed them to take it. I was suddenly panicked.

“Don’t you worry about that. I will make sure that the baby is taken care of and you can have your life back, I promise. This is our problem and we’ll make sure everything works out.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out again. This was scary. Mark stood around in the kitchen, looking lost. He looked at me, hands on his hips. I hadn’t seen him in casual wear before. The t-shirt he wore stretched across his body and he was more built that I thought he would be. Young and fit, that’s what he looked like despite the fact that he was in his forties. Maybe his personality had a lot to do with it.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The question was out of the blue and I hesitated.

“I know how it is to live on cafeteria food.”

I smiled. “Yeah, it’s not my favorite. I’d like that.”

He nodded and smiled and it spread over his face slowly like he hadn’t smiled in a while. I pulled out a bar stool at the counter island and made myself comfortable while Mark moved around the kitchen, getting food together. There was something ridiculously attractive about a man that could cook.

“What are you making?” I asked.

“Lamb. Wild rice.”

That sounded really good. Cafeteria food really was horrible in comparison. Mark put the lamb in the oven once it was heated up and poured me a glass of grape juice and wine for himself. He started on the gravy and I told him about some of my lecturers. He stood half to the side so that he didn’t have his back to me.

The smell of gravy started filling the kitchen, rich and sweet, and my stomach turned. I felt a little sick. Lately, this had been happening. Smells triggered me.

I tried to ignore it. I took a sip of my juice and focused on what we were talking about but nausea got worse. I put my hand to my stomach.

“Can you show me where the restroom is?” I asked.

“Down the passage and to your left,” Mark said. I nodded and got up. My body retched the moment and I did and I ran for the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t throw up on Mark’s expensive carpet.

I threw up loudly and ungracefully. Mark appeared behind me and made sure my hair was out of the way. He rubbed my back and when it was over he offered me a glass of water.

“God,” I complained. “I’m sorry.” I felt embarrassed that he’d seen me like that.

He sat down next to me on the floor. “Don’t be. You’re pregnant. What can I get you?”

I shook my head. “A toothbrush would be nice.”

He got up and opened the cabinet, taking out a new one. I laughed.

“I didn’t think you really had one.”

He shrugged. I took it from him.

“Let me get you something plain to settle your stomach,” he said and left me to it. I found toothpaste next to the sink and brushed my teeth, cleaning myself up. Vomiting was never pleasant.

When I came out of the bathroom Mark waited for me with a plate of crackers. He held it out to me and I took one, nibbling on it. He looked at me and his eyes were soft, adoring. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling but I was grateful he was doting on me. I hated being sick alone.

He looked at me for a moment, like he wanted to say something. He didn’t and I was just about to turn away when he leaned forward and kissed me. The plate knocked against my shoulder and crackers fell to the ground. Mark didn’t care. I didn’t care. He had his lips pressed against mine in a reckless question, a challenge, almost. Do you want this?

I didn’t say no. I didn’t pull away. Maybe I should have. I didn’t want to. The kiss had been rushed but his lips were sure on mine. I opened my mouth and let him in and he kissed me until I was a melted puddle on the floor.

When he finally broke the kiss I felt lightheaded and out of breath. His eyes were dark and drowning deep.

“I don’t feel sick anymore.”

He smiled. “Good,” he breathed. “Because I think we’re out of crackers.”

Mark

She was soft and she was tender and she was beautiful. She was also young, but I ignored that fact because she was an old soul in my eyes. She was more mature than a lot of people my age, including the woman I’d ended up marrying.

I wanted her. Not just her intellect and her, but her body, too. She was in my house, dressed in skinny jeans and a shirt that showed off her curves and I wanted her. And no, she wasn’t a rebound after the bitch of a wife cheated on me with the one person we’d both confided in. I had to be honest with myself and admit that I’d wanted Camille even before Marina had shown her true colors. I just hadn’t admitted it to myself then.

But now… what did I have to lose? My heart had already been ripped to shreds, I’d been used and abused for my money and my status, and I had no one that would stand up for me. No one except Camille. I didn’t think she admired me for my money, either. She talked to me like I was one of her peers like we were equals.

She kneeled down to collect the fallen crackers. I kneeled down, too, but my attention wasn’t on the dropped food. It was on her. The way she moved, the way she looked at me when she put the crackers back on the plate. Her hands. Her eyes. Her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sorry at all, but I felt like I had to say it just in case she was.

“Don’t be.”

Anything else would have been bad. Anything else would have made me feel like I’d overstepped some line. It’s okay, don’t worry about it, it’s nothing, all those would have felt loaded. Saying that I shouldn’t be sorry held no sarcasm, no regret.

I reached out and hooked her hair behind her ear. Her curls were beautiful. I let one run around my finger. She tipped her head to the side just a little, enough to press her cheek against my hand. Her skin was soft and silky and I wanted more of it.

I leaned into her again, stopping only inches away from her face. I wanted more, but I wanted to be sure she wanted it, too. I waited for her to close the distance. She hesitated and I thought that was it, she was going to reject me. But then she closed the distance and her lips were on mine and the kiss was different. Expected, calculated. Soft and warm and comfortable. With her, it felt different than it had ever felt with Marina. With Camille, it felt right. It felt real. It felt like home.

I broke the kiss and pushed up. I took her hand and pulled her up, too, turning her so that her back was against the wall. She arched her back, pushing her breasts out to me, an invitation. I stepped into her so that her body was against mine and I felt the swells of her breasts against my chest. The erection in my pants throbbed and I tugged at my waistband to readjust myself.

I slid a hand onto her neck, over her collarbone and then onto her breast. I was being forward. I was overstepping the line. She was twenty-two and I was forty. Everything about this was wrong.

It didn’t feel wrong. It felt right.

I massaged her breast and she gasped into my mouth. Her hips undulated against mine. My other hand was in her hair. Her hands slid around to my back and she pulled me against her, moving her hips, driving me crazy and we were just standing in the passage with our clothes on.

I broke the kiss and my breathing was erratic. Her mouth was slightly parted, her pupils dilated. Her face told me everything I needed to know.

I held onto her hand and led her to the bedroom. The same bedroom where Marina and that asshole Kamal had decided to tell me how much respect they had for me. I’d disinfected the whole damn room, but bringing Camille in here felt like a fuck you to Marina.

It wasn’t revenge sex at all, though. Never. This was real. I wondered how real Marina’s escapades had been.

I pushed the thought from my mind. I wasn’t going to think about her anymore. This was about Camille and only Camille. As soon as we were in the room I pulled her shirt over her head and she stood in front of me in her bra. It was red and it suited her skin and her personality. Feisty, exotic.

She had a slight belly and it was beautiful. A baby. My baby.

She reached back and unclasped it, letting it fall to the floor. She was perfect. Natural breasts that fit into the palm of my hand like they’d always been meant for me. Real, not fake. I took a nipple between my thumb and forefinger and rolled it. Camille closed her eyes and tipped her head back, and I relished the sensation of being able to bring that expression to her face.

She only let me make her feel good for a moment before she moved my hands away and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I was no spring chicken compared to her, but she ran her hands over my chest, fingers in the curly gray chest hair, and she kissed the skin, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. She stopped at the V that led into my pants and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my pants and pulled it down. She took my jocks along with it, not wasting any time.

There was no guessing what I was feeling. My sex sprung free and she wrapped her fingers around it, mimicking the rhythm of sex with her hand. I only let her do that for a short while. I only let her drive me crazy to a point well before the point of no return. I needed to be inside her. It was an ache inside of me that I had ignored since I’d met her, and now I was going to let go and let my own needs come first for the first time since I’d gotten married.

I got rid of her pants. There was, again, no ceremony about it. I laid her out on the bed like a feast and crawled over her. Her thighs fell open for me, an indication that she wanted this as much as I did. If she hadn’t I would have backed away immediately. The only thing I had for Camille that trumped my lust was respect.

I positioned myself at her entrance and she was wet and ready. She gasped, air escaping through her open lips. Her eyes were on mine and when I pushed into her I lowered my mouth onto her and kissed her. This was not just about her sex, but about her.

She squirmed a little underneath me when I pushed all the way in. I waited for a moment when I was into the hilt, letting her adjust. She breathed fast and shallow. I ran my fingers through her curly hair, over her cheeks, tracing her eyebrows, her ears, her nose, her lips.

“You’re beautiful.” This was so important to me that she knew that. That she understood what this was about. It wasn’t revenge sex or a rebound or some ass because I was lonely. This was all about her.

I started moving. In and out, in and out. Slowly, stroking. Her eyes rolled back and then closed and she gasped, whimpering moans slipping out of her throat. Her hands were on my back, her fingers massaging the skin. I kept moving. The sensation was fantastic. I ran my hand over her body, over her breast. She arched her back, moving her hips along with mine.

I felt her orgasm building. Her body tightened around mine, her legs hooked around my ass, her hands kneaded the skin on my back, her moans became louder. It coaxed my orgasm out, stroke by stroke, too.

She released before I did, toppling over into the abyss and I watched her face. She gave herself over to it entire. Her eyebrows knit together, her mouth opened in a silent cry, and then her body clamped down on mine and she curled around me, nails biting into my skin. I grunted, relishing the sharp pain that came with the exhilaration, the ecstasy. I only waited until the worst was over until she was breathing again, before I kept moving.

Her orgasm had nearly kick started mine and I wanted my release. I wanted to claim her. It sounded awful and primal and animalistic but it was what I wanted. Some carnal part of me wanted to mark her so that no one else would look at her. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice shouted that I’d never wanted to do that with Marina, but I drowned it out with sex. I went faster and faster.

Her cries and moans were louder and came freely now, as if breaking through the orgasm had let her break through self-consciousness, too. I felt it building inside of me now, my balls contracted and my core was on fire. Just a little… more…

My body jerked and I froze, letting nature take over, letting my body do what it needed to. I was aware of her whimpering when I released inside of her, of her hands on my back and her breath in my ear. When it finally subsided she opened her eyes and she looked at me.

Big brown eyes. Beautiful. A face I wanted to look at over and over and over again.

“Holy shit, Mark.”

I smiled. Such an adolescent expression after such a mature act. I nodded.

Holy shit, indeed.

Camille

I spent the night. When he finished inside of me I hadn’t wanted to spoil it by getting up and leaving. I didn’t want to leave, anyway. Mark had slipped out of, collapsed next to me and pulled me against him, curling his body around mine like a question mark. If I had been unsure before about his intentions with me I was sure now. Men who wanted one-night stands and booty calls didn’t spoon. These were facts you learned at a very young age.

Mark wasn’t using me. I wasn’t sure what else was behind it – I was hesitant to assume there was any emotional input – but it definitely wasn’t just physical. Was it?

I carefully slid out from underneath the covers. It was very early, the light coming from outside still laced with a silver quality. I tiptoed around the room to find my clothes. I didn’t want to hit and run but I had to get out of here to think straight. I didn’t want him to think it was any less to me than it was to him, but a girl has to think.

I got dressed as quietly as I could. I glanced back at him one more time before leaving the room. He was fast asleep, tangled in sheets we’d both messed up.

I let myself out, scared an alarm would go off. There was nothing. I walked all the way back to the bus stop and got on one that would take me back to my dorm. To real life.

What was I doing? I ran my hands through my hair, hoping it didn’t look too wild, like sex hair. I hadn’t even checked myself in the mirror before I’d left. I ran a finger under each eye, hoping my make-up hadn’t smudged.

Everything inside the college dorm was quiet, most of the students taking the morning to sleep in while they could. Late nights and impossibly early mornings define student life – you take a break whenever you can. I’d left with the same clothes on last night. I was relieved no one would see me coming in.

Sharon came down the corridor. Early riser. She stopped dead when she saw me.

“Is it still a walk of shame when you’re in your own corridor?” A smile played around her lips. Dammit, she knew.

I sighed and shook my head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I started saying no, but then changed my answer. “Actually, I do.” I had a lot on my mind. I needed to tell someone, and considering that Sharon was the one that always ended up peeling me off the floor when something went wrong in my life she was the lady for the job. I opened my room door and she came in with me. She sat down on the chair Mark had used when he’d been here.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Mark.”

No reason to try and sugarcoat it. No matter when the truth came out, there would be a reaction.

Sharon frowned. “I don’t remember any Mark. Does he study with us?”

I shook my head. “Not a student Mark. A grownup Mark.”

I watched her mind tick, running through all the Mark’s we knew. Her eyes widened slightly and I knew she’d landed on the right one. I nodded a confirmation.

“Are you out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you?”

This was the first time she’d asked me that. I heard that sentence often.

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

She snorted. “A classic case of you slipped and he fell?”

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. It wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t be a bitch right now, okay? I’m stuck.”

She snorted again and I could almost taste the next snarky comment but she didn’t say it and I breathed out in relief. The truth was I was starting to fall for Mark and it scared the shit out of me. I needed another perspective and Sharon – on the days she chose – could really be a voice of reason.

“I know you think this is all wrong, but the story isn’t exactly what you think.”

She raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. So tell me, her face said. I explained to her about Marina and her lover, about Mark and how lonely he’s been not just after the affair but while he was married, too.

“So, you thought it would be noble to keep him company?”

I sighed. “Can you please just push aside the fact that he’s twice my age—”

“And married.”

“Yeah… and married. And just treated this like every other screwed up relationship I’ve had?”

Sharon shrugged with one shoulder. I wasn’t sure if it was consent or indifference.

“The truth is that I really like him. I’m falling for him. He’s different. But he’s a billionaire with a life he built himself and I’m just a student. Why would he like me? Why would he go for me?”

“I don’t know.” Sharon’s voice was neutral. “You might want to be careful, but it has happened before that men were genuine. It can happen again.”

I picked at my thumbnail. “I am pregnant with his child, after all.”

“But that happened before the sex, not after.”

I nodded. “I know. And it’s also not my baby. It’s hers.” I covered my face with my hands. “God, this is so complicated.” My voice was muffled through my fingers.

“Why don’t you go and talk to him about it? You deserve an answer if you ask him the question. He can’t just leave you hanging, if he does you’ll know, anyway, but you still need to see him. And his wife.”

“She’s not his ex, yet.”

“She might never be.”

I hadn’t thought about that. When he’d told me she’d moved out I’d assumed it was over. Us having sex had made me feel like it was final. I hadn’t thought about the fact that he might take her back for the baby’s sake, that it might be nothing more than a one-nighter to get it out of his system. Shit.

“Stop worrying about it,” Sharon ordered. “You can’t overthink this until you speak to him.”

“And I can’t speak to him until after the test series or I’ll fail them all. Especially if it goes south.”

She nodded. I was being reasonable.

“Can I ask you something?”

I looked up at her and nodded. Her eyes sparkled and a smile spread over her face. “What was he like? In bed?”

I smiled, too. “Oh, my God, Sharon. He’s older, so he knows what he’s doing. I mean… hell. He really knows what he’s doing. It was fantastic.”

I swallowed, trying to get rid of the insecurities that were creeping in. Had I been good in bed? Had I left him just as satisfied as he’d left me? Was this something he would do again? Was it something I would let happen again? Did I have to stop it?

I shook off the questions and focused on Sharon, giving her details, telling her enough to satisfy her curiosity without sacrificing my or Mark’s dignity. It distracted me from all the questions, the doubts, the insecurity. It distracted me from a future that was unsure.

Mark

I couldn’t get her off my mind. Legs that went on forever, caramel skin that tasted just as sweet. Her eyes, boring into mine, encouraging me to bare it all. Her mouth, mesmerizing into wanting to kiss her whenever she spoke about something interesting, which was all the time.

I should have thought about what I was doing. I was nervous I’d taken it too far. I knew what I felt for her but I had no idea if she felt the same for me.

And she was pregnant with my child. With my and Marina’s child. Had I done something terrible?

It was difficult to see something that had been so spectacular as something terrible. I hadn’t felt like that with a woman since… I wasn’t actually sure if I’d ever felt that way around a woman. I knew for a fact Marina had never made me feel that way, which was just another reason on the pile of why I shouldn’t be with her. I’d been trying my damn best to make her happy, to be the model husband, to give her everything her heart desired.

It was just a pity her heart didn’t desire me. That hurt. It had stung like a bitch when I’d come back after catching the two of them in bed and she’d sat on the couch, her makeup in place, her hair perfect, her voice, her eyes, pleading.

I’d kicked her out. I couldn’t stand the look of her. She was nothing like the woman I’d married. I felt tricked and betrayed, not just by the affair but by our entire marriage.

I drew my thoughts back to Camille. She deserved them, not Marina. Not now. She was a point of light in a life that had become increasingly dark. She’d made me realize what it was like to be happy again, and that it wasn’t wrong to want that. I needed her to know how I felt about her. I needed her to understand that this wasn’t just about sex.

I called her. I was scared she wouldn’t answer. She’d left without saying goodbye.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” I asked. “Just to talk, to spend time together.” No sex, I wanted her to understand. She hesitated.

“I can’t see you until after my tests,” she said. My heart plummeted.

“Are you upset?”

“Not at all.” She was quiet to respond there and it made me feel better. “I’m not upset at all. But I need to pass these tests to get into the exam and I can’t afford a distraction.” She paused before adding on with a smile in her voice, “and you’re a very big distraction.”

When we ended the conversation I felt better. She didn’t hate me. She didn’t think I was the scum of the earth. At least, she was very good at pretending, if that was the case. I didn’t see her as the kind of person to lie about it, though. She seemed straight forward, open, uncomplicated. A big distraction, she’d called me. A compliment.

Dusk started falling when the intercom buzzed. I walked to the television that was linked to all the cameras that monitored the place. Marina stood outside, the door of her Gold Mercedes open, the lights on.

“Can we talk?”

I wanted to tell her to go away. I didn’t want to let her in. But the sooner I got it over with, the better. I opened the gate and walked to the front door. My stomach turned to stone, nerves settling inside of me like they were going to stay. I didn’t want to talk to her. I never wanted to see her again.

I opened the door and she stopped in front of me. Was she expecting a kiss? When I didn’t move she carried on, moving deeper into the house. She sat down in her usual spot on the couch as if I was the one that was going to be interviewed, not her.

I sat down in my usual spot, too. I realized that our usual seats hadn’t been on the same couch for a long time.

“Why did you come?”

She looked hurt. “Is it wrong for a woman to come home to her husband?”

I shrugged. “Is it wrong to sleep with her fertility doctor in her marriage bed?”

She cringed away as if I’d physically struck her. Her eyes welled with tears.

“I made a mistake. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”

I thought about our marriage, how devoted I’d been to Marina. I thought about Camille, the way she’d looked so perfect on my bed, naked, wanting. I shook my head.

“I’ve never made a mistake like that. This wasn’t a white lie or a forgotten anniversary, for God’s sake.”

She nodded, looking at her hands. Her nails were freshly done. My money. I was going to stop her cards.

“I wanted to fix this between us, Mark. I want us to be how we used to be.”

Before she’d become a bitch or before she’d had the affair? Those didn’t happen at the same time. I shook my head.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. I don’t trust you anymore.” I wanted to add that I should never have, but I didn’t. That would have been cruel. I didn’t want to be cruel, only realistic.

“Please, Mark. You can’t just give up on us now. We have a baby on the way. What about the baby? Do this for the baby if not for me.”

We didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. Neither Camille or I went to the doctor’s meeting.

“I’m sorry, Marina, but everything has changed. I can’t do this.”

She tried to plead a little longer. When that didn’t work, she changed tactics.

“You have someone else, then?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you. I wasn’t the one that had the affair with the one person we were both supposed to be able to trust, to confide in to build our lives together.”

“But you’re used to whoring around. Before you met me, that’s all you did.”

I was getting angry. She knew exactly how to push my buttons. That was what happened when you lived with someone, married someone, shared your life with someone. You got to know them well enough to know where you could hit them, where it really hurt.

“My life before you and after you are two very different things. I gave up my lifestyle for you.”

“But that didn’t stop you from falling straight into bed with another whore, did it?”

“Camille is not a whore.”

Shit. The words had slipped out, our back and forth had gotten faster and faster. Marina’s face changed from shock to a sly grin.

“I knew it. I know who you really are, Mark. You can’t hide it with fancy suits and cars and that billion watt smile of yours.”

She was hurting me and she knew it.

“A child of all things. She’s barely an adult, and you want to tell me she’s not a whore? What could she possibly see in you? Or you in her?”

She’d stunned me, but not for long.

“I care more for her than I ever cared for you.” Let her take that however, she wanted. She paled a little but she bounced back quick. That was one of the upsides of being Marina. Her skin was thick and her tongue was sharp.

“Don’t play games with me, Mark. Jealousy won’t win me over. I’m not going to run back to you just because I feel like I have competition.”

I nodded. “Good. That saves me the trouble of having to get rid of you over and over again.”

She opened her mouth to say something but she had nothing and snapped it shut again. For a moment I felt guilty. I was being hard on her. I was hurting her. I wanted to apologize but then I saw those dark brown hands on her light skin again, the sheet clutched to the chest he’d been starting at openly, and I swallowed my regrets.

Marina stood up. Her heels clacked on the marble tiles all the way to the front door.

“You’ll hear from my lawyer, Mark. The baby is mine and you know, as the woman, I’ll win I court. If you want to play dirty, so can I.”

I followed her to the front door. I watched her climb into her car. She started it with a huff, flicking her hair over her shoulder. I was tired. Exhausted.

I still loved her. On some level, I supposed I would for a long time, still. But so much of me had been bruised and become callous as a result of constant battering it was hard for me to reconcile the woman she was now with the woman she had been before. It was hard for me to find a reason to feel like I should fix it with her. It was hard to care about what happened to her at all.

She reversed out of the yard and sped off. I could hear her engine whining for a long time after the gate had rolled shut. I turned around and walked back into the house that felt miserable and empty. It was easy to get rid of someone that had hurt you. It was hard to filter through all the emotions that had built up through the years, to see the house you’d shared as a place of your own again. A place where you could be yourself without being judged for it.

Her comment about the whores rolled around my mind and I struggled to silence it. It was true, I’d lived the bachelor’s life before her. But I had been a bachelor. There wasn’t another choice. I had changed everything for her when we’d gotten married, even who I was.

That had been the mistake. Maybe we’d gone into this all wrong. I’d gone into the relationship thinking Marina would never change, but she did. And she’d gone into the relationship expecting I would change, and I never did. Maybe it was just a bad match and too long trying to make something work that had been doomed to fail all along.

Or maybe I was being nice and giving her too much credit when, in the end, she was the one that had forced it until it broke.

Camille

Three tests in two weeks and I had six more to go. Some of the subjects had double-barrel tests and I had to get through all of them. I hadn’t slept for than two hours a night for the past six nights and I was running on coffee and willpower.

After the test series, I was going to sleep for a week. The fact that I was pregnant made it all the more difficult. I ran low on energy very quickly. I was sleepy often. I had to pee all the time, even during my tests where I had to hold it, or when I really couldn’t I had to be escorted by a moderator to make sure I wasn’t just cheating in the toilet stall.

I was hungry all the time, and besides my belly that kept growing I was pretty sure I was picking up weight. A little more than five months to go. I hadn’t even reached the halfway mark, yet.

Sometimes when I walked on campus students did a double take. I knew they were speculating about my pregnancy, whether it was real or if I’d just picked up a lot of weight. I knew that there were those who said I was saying it was a surrogacy just to cover up for the fact that my pregnancy was an accident.

I knew that I didn’t really care, either. My real friends knew the truth and believed me for the most part, and the most important thing was that I was going to pay off my degree and make my mama proud. That was all that mattered to me at this point.

I would go through life without a single friend as long as mama was still on my side.

I sat down on a bench. I was halfway between the dorm and college campus and I was heaving and sweating. My bag felt ridiculously heavy. I found a bottle of water and drank at least half of it. Sure, it would make me have to pee again, but it was the lesser of two evils at this point.

Other students were already heading toward class. I could see them in the distance, a range of bags in every color, hair styles and clothes that defined student life. I was happy here, even though at the moment I felt like an outcast.

After ten minutes of catching my breath, I had to get up and keep moving. I was already late for class.

“Camille,” a voice said behind me and I turned. Marina stood under the tree, her feet together in her nude heels, her dress suit pristine and her hair and nails perfectly manicured. She was much older but she still looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. A pang of guilt shot into my chest. I’d slept with her husband. I hadn’t even hesitated when I realized that was where he was heading.

“How are you, Marina? I haven’t heard from you in a while?” I forced a smile and walked closer to her. My fingers were trembling but I clutched onto my bag to hide it. “The baby is doing well.”

She smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and looked at my belly.

“Thank God it’s you, imagine that happening to my body.”

The insult jabbed at me and my smile faltered.

“Is there something I can help you with? I’m late for class.”

She shook her head, glanced in the direction of the other students that were thinning out now that classes had already started.

“Oh, no. Nothing you can do to fix this, really. I was just wondering why you thought it wouldn’t come out that you’re sleeping with my husband.”

Blood drained from my face and turned to ice in my veins. My stomach turned and I couldn’t breathe.

“It was a mistake, Marina. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

She shrugged. “You see, it’s very hard for me to believe you when he tells me how much he feels for you and how little he cares for me.”

When she looked at me again she looked different. She was still composed as ever on the outside but her eyes were manic and her mouth was curled into a sneer rather than a smile.

“I’m sorry, Marina.”

“I don’t believe you.” She laughed. I shook my head, held up my hands defense. I’d made such a mistake. I should have stopped it when he came onto me. I should have done something about it. I’d known it was wrong but I’d been overcome by emotion, by how much he’d cared for me.

“I never meant for this to happen. It was a mistake, a stupid mistake. In fact, I think that he was just trying to forget that he’d lost you. You know he loves you, you know how much it hurt him that he’d lost you.”

She shook her head while I was talking. I was panicking. Rambling and panicking. I said anything that came to mind just to make it all better. I was young and stupid and I should have thought about what I was doing before just falling into bed with him. Maybe he was getting back together with her and they could have their baby and I would disappear forever.

“I won’t ever come near him again, I swear. As soon as this baby is born I’ll disappear out of your life forever.”

Marina sighed and it felt like she was a mother that listened to the stupid excuses of her child. I’d really messed up.

“Do you know how it feels to have your whole life ripped away from you?” she asked. The guilt got bigger and bigger until it felt like it was suffocating me. “Especially when you’re traded for a younger model, one that can have children.”

Shit. This was getting worse and worse.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t think—”

“That’s it. You’re getting there,” she interrupted me. “You didn’t think.”

“I really have to go to class.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You have to get back to your life. I’ll let you do that. It’s a pity I don’t have a life to get back to anymore.”

I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I turned and started walking away from her. She grabbed my hair from behind and yanked back. Pain shot through my skull and I fell backward. I hit the floor with one hand. Pain flooded my wrist and my back. Marina stood over me and fear clawed at my throat. I thought about screaming.

“Please,” I pleaded. She smirked and stepped back. I rolled onto my side and tried to get up. I saw her foot pull back and I knew what was coming. It all happened in slow motion and I still couldn’t stop it. I was on my side, my belly exposed. The toe of her nude shoe came toward me with full force.

“The baby,” I started staying, but then she kicked me and I cried out, the scream drowning out the rest of my sentence. I felt something inside me rip. The pain was unbearable. I heard Marina laugh somewhere in the distance but it was fading away. Warmth between my legs, liquid, lots of it. I looked down and saw blood. Too much blood.

“Help,” I tried to scream but my voice had gone hoarse. My throat was raw. Blood rushed in my ears and the world started to blur. Marina disappeared and it was just me. I tried to drag myself up but the pain in my belly flooded my body and I collapsed again whimpering. I curled into a ball, hoping to make it less. Hoping to hold onto the baby, the little boy or girl who was bleeding out. I tried to be the mother I would never be able to be and save my child. Not theirs, mine. My baby in my belly. It would be too late. There was no one around, the campus was empty now. I looked up at the sky, the patches of blue through the leaves, the green. I closed my eyes and let darkness fold around me, taking me away. The last thing I heard was the sound of my heart, breaking.

Mark

Everything in the hospital was white. White sheets, white walls, white floors, white monitors. Everything was white when I needed it to be black. Black was the color of mourning.

A student who had seen the whole thing had called 9-1-1. The ambulance had arrived ten minutes later. The police had followed suit. They had reacted as fast as they possibly could, and still it might be too late.

I sat next to her bed, looking at all the lines that ran into her body. Bags of fluid into her IV line. Oxygen into pipes in her nose. A catheter next to the bed. The monitor beeped steadily, albeit it slow, the only proof that she was alive.

She was pale. Her hair was matted and pulled back from her face. Her eyes were sunken. Her hands were still. She hadn’t moved from the position on her back since they’d brought her in two days ago.

It felt like I was running on life support, too. Every inch of my being only lurched forward when the monitor beeped with another pulse of her heart. People came to see her and left again. It was her friend, Sharon, that had called me to tell me what had happened.

The baby was gone. It had been a girl. The pain that had come with the knowledge that she was no longer alive, would never see the light of day, had been as much of a surprise as it had been unbearable. I’d never wanted to be a father, but I’d never wished the child dead. This was unfair. This felt like some kind of punishment for doing the wrong thing, but I hadn’t been punished. It was an innocent child that had taken the fall, and it was unfair.

I put my hand on Camille’s arm. I’d been sitting here like this since I’d found out. She was warm but there was no life, not really. She wasn’t here. She was somewhere far away, caught up in the web of sorrow and despair and agony of what had happened.

A police officer knocked on the door before stepping into the room.

“Mr. Owen, may I talk to you for a moment?”

I nodded. The police had been in and out of the room since I’d arrived. It was about Marina. They’d arrested her. She needed a lawyer. I wasn’t going to pay for one. She’d hurt the one person that made me feel alive. She’d murdered a child. I didn’t know her. I didn’t know the woman who was my wife.

“The court date has been set for two weeks from now. I just wanted you to know.”

They didn’t have to tell me. They kept me updated, anyway. There was something so painful about losing a child the world grieved with you.

“Thank you, officer.”

He looked at Camille. “How is she doing?”

“No better.”

He nodded. He was the man that had taken Marina into custody. He was one of the first on the scene.

“We’re all rooting for you, for her.”

I nodded. I couldn’t say thank you. My voice caught in my throat and if I spoke or even looked at him I would start crying.

A woman that looked a lot like Camille arrived two days later. She had the same skin, the same hair, the same mouth. Her eyes were gray and she wasn’t smiling. When she saw Camille she clapped her hands to her mouth and started crying. I got up.

“Are you Camille’s mother?”

She looked at me and nodded. She touched her daughter’s leg through the covers.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t understand.”

I walked out of the room and poured her a cup of water at the water cooler. She took it from me when I walked back into the room and took a sip.

“Did Camille tell you about the baby?”

She shook her head, cheeks still wet. I nodded and pulled a chair closer for her.

“The baby wasn’t hers.”

I started at the beginning and told her what Camille had done for us, how she’d ended up pregnant, how she lost the baby. Her mother cried the whole way through and my heart went out to her. I put my hand on her shoulder.

“I’m truly sorry for what your daughter has suffered. I will do everything in my power to make sure she comes out of this and finishes her degree. She only wants to make you proud.”

The mother, her name turned out to be Tracy, nodded and kept crying. There was nothing more I could do and I felt helpless and in pain. I couldn’t change anything. All the money in the world couldn’t save people.

She opened her eyes the next morning. I was the first person she looked at.

“The baby,” she croaked in a voice that was almost non-existent. I looked down at my hands. My lack of answer was enough. When I looked at her again, tears ran down her cheeks. I put a hand on her leg.

“I’m so sorry.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. I didn’t know what to do. I felt so damn helpless I wanted to scream.

“You mother is here.”

Her eyes widened, fear in them. Just as I said it Tracy walked through the door.

“Oh, my darling,” she said, crying again. “You should have told me.”

I left the room, leaving them to talk. There was a lot to say and I was sure I didn’t have to be present for the two of them to make amends.

Three hours later Tracy popped her head out of the door and said Camille was asking for me. I stood up. Tracy walked to me.

“You are a good man,” she said. “I don’t always agree with her choices, but you have been here for her when no one else would.”

She patted my hand and walked away. I wasn’t sure what to say. I walked into the room. Camille’s eyes were puffy from crying and her hands were on her stomach. I ached for her, feeling her loss and her pain.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

I sat down next to her and took her hand. She squeezed it and that small display of life meant more to me than she would ever know.

“Where is she?”

I knew who she meant. The baby. They kept her for us.

“We should name her before we lay her to rest. I’ll arrange a funeral if you’d like.”

She nodded. That was all we said about it. I changed the topic.

“Marina has been arrested. There were witnesses on campus that saw what she did. She’s been charged with assault and first-degree murder.”

Camille swallowed.

“How are you?”

I looked at her, frowning. After everything, she was asking about me?

“It was your baby too.”

I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “I thought I would lose you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it.” My voice cracked and I swallowed again, taking a deep breath. “You’ve come to mean very much to me, Camille. More than anyone before. It might be too early to say this, but I nearly lost you and life is too damn short.”

I hesitated.

“I’m in love with you.”

I watched her face, trying to gauge her reaction to my words. Her face was soft and she cried again, tears rolling down her cheeks. I gave her a tissue.

“We’ll get through this together, okay?”

She nodded. “Together is the only way we’ll be able to do it. I’d like that.”

It wasn’t an admission of her returned love, but it didn’t have to be. She wanted me with her, to work through this together, and that was all that mattered. We could work out the rest at a later stage when everything that had happened had been laid to rest and we could find it in us to move forward.

I was still holding her hand. She turned on her side, wincing, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and I let her slip back into sleep. Even when she drifted off her fingers still squeezed mine. She didn’t let go, and I didn’t move. I would sit here so she could hold onto my hand for as long as she needed me. I would only let go when she did.

Camille

18 months later

Getting over the death of an unborn child is just as hard as getting over the death of anyone who’d been something in your life. I’d thought it would be easier to move on. It wasn’t. I thought it wouldn’t mean so much to me because she hadn’t been mine, but I’d been wrong about that.

Mark and I had sat down and we’d named her Breanna. They’d brought her to me in a shoebox, so tiny and frail. She would have been a beautiful child. She’d never belonged to Mark and Marina. She’d belonged to me, and it had been hard letting go.

Mark had arranged a ceremony for her. Sharon, my mother, Mark and me were the only people that had attended. I wouldn’t have been able to cope if there had been more. My mother had understood what it meant to me. She’d been there for me in a way Mark would never have been able to understand.

The college had understood what had gone wrong – maybe they’d felt guilty that this had happened on their campus – and I’d been granted an extension. It was a semester later than all my peers, but I was finally graduating.

I was in a room at Mark’s new house where I was getting ready for the ceremony. He’d sold the house he and Marina had shared and he’d bought this one. It was just as luxurious but it was smaller, cozier. More like Mark.

My mother helped me with my hair, pinning it to the side. I wore the black toga and she was emotional. Everything about the gambling had come out and she was even more proud of me that I’d done something about it rather than run back home.

It didn’t make sense to me. In my eyes, I’d just messed up.

“Mark is going to be here, soon,” she said. I lived here with him. Mama had flown up for the ceremony. She didn’t like the fact that Mark was so much older than me, but she understood that we had been to hell and back together and even she couldn’t deny that something like that forged bonds no one could break.

“Thank you for being here,” I said and hugged her.

Mark honked his horn outside the house and we walked out. He came early from the office especially. He got out and opened the car doors for the both of us.

“You look great,” he said before I got in, kissing me on the mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled and got in the car. We’d been able to move on and I was happy. I was happy with him. I was happy with my life.

The ceremony was long and boring, with speeches about greatness and tenacity and all that. Our class valedictorian made a speech about moving onward and upward and in it, she mentioned me and how I’d risen despite the odds. It was strange with all the attention on me but I smiled and nodded and hoped they would look away soon.

When I received my award mama and Mark went crazy. Sharon was there, too, joining in on the fun.

Afterward, we went to a restaurant, the four of us. It was a posh place, the kind that we’d been going to more often since Mark and I had started dating officially. The staff all knew Mark. I was the young new girlfriend that they’d started getting to know, too, and I got nods and smiles from all around the room. They led us to a private table in the back where the other diners were far enough removed that I didn’t feel like a celebrity. The word of Marina and what she’d done, and what had happened to me, had come out and a lot of people knew me.

Marina had been sentenced to thirteen years in prison. I hadn’t followed the case. Mark had gone and come back with a sense of closure.

“I want to make a toast,” Mark said after he ordered champagne. He looked at me.

“To Camille, who had gone against all odds and come out ahead anyway.”

Sharon and my mom lifted their glasses and we all drank champagne. The evening was beautiful. Before dessert, mama and Sharon got up.

“You’re leaving already?”

Mama nodded. “I’m tired.”

“And I have a work in the morning.”

I got up and hugged them both. “Thank you so much. For everything.” I didn’t know where I would have been without them. Mama walked away but Sharon lingered, putting her hands on my face and smiling at me. It was strangely emotional. When she left I frowned at Mark. He shrugged.

We sat down.

“Can I order for us?” he asked. I nodded.

Mark flagged a waiter and picked up the dessert menu, pointing and discussing. The waiter nodded. “For the lady, I’d like your Special,” he said. The waiter smiled.

“Of course.”

He disappeared. Mark poured me more champagne and I laughed.

“At this rate, you’ll get me drunk.”

“This is just to celebrate.”

“Another glass?”

He shrugged. The plates with dessert came. They placed a masterpiece in front of Mark with a chocolate sculpture that looked like it had taken days. I got something similar, except it was with sugar. Underneath the webbed dome of crystallized sugar, instead of cake, sat a black velvet box. I frowned and looked at Mark.

“What’s this?”

He shrugged. I lifted the sugary dome and pulled out the box, opening it. In it was a ring with a diamond the size of a pea. My mouth dropped open and I looked at Mark. He’d gone down on one knee next to me.

“Will you marry me?”

Oh, God. I was at a loss for words. This was crazy. This was… a dream come true. I smiled, tears stinging the back of my eyes. I nodded.

Mark took the ring and slid it onto my finger. He got up and kissed me. The waiter removed my plate and replaced it with a dessert similar to Mark’s. I laughed, overwhelmed, and we dug in.

Life is never predictable, and often our choices lead us in a different direction that we ever could have imagined. If I hadn’t lost all my fortunes in a stupid Blackjack game I would never have met the love of my life. We’d been through so much together, the bond between us was stronger than any relationship either of us had ever had.

There were still times when I thought of Breanna and then I ached for her, craving the feel of her inside of me again. She would always be my first child, but when Mark and I married I wanted to try again. I wanted children of my own, children I could tell about the little girl that should have been.

But I only wanted to do it when Mark was ready to be a father. I wanted us to be happy together. There was still a lot of time. After all, I’d only just graduated.

We had the rest of our lives together, and I looked forward to it.

MY Mr. Dark

1

Nicole walked into the club at almost 10:00 PM, her dark eyes scanning the crowd. She'd just gotten done a grueling twelve-hour shift at the hospital, and she was looking to unwind. Most nights she didn't have the energy to go out after such a long day, but tonight had been different. Several gunshot victims had been rushed into the emergency room in critical condition. Two of them hadn't made it, and the third was still in intensive care. After a scene like that, the thought of being home alone in her tiny, quiet apartment was more than Nicole could bear. If she was alone with nothing but her thoughts, she wouldn't be able to get the sights from the emergency room out of her mind.

She needed to drown the horrifying images out with some hard drinks, some loud music, and if she was lucky, maybe have some dance with a fine looking man.

She walked up to the bar, running her fingers through her long mass of dark curls. She hadn't taken much time to make herself up that night since she didn't have the time or the energy for a big makeover after such a long and crazy day. She was wearing jeans that hugged her ample hips and did a nice job showing off her well-rounded ass. She had a low-cut, loose fitting top that showed off plenty of her caramel skin. And she had brought a confident attitude that she showed off by flashing a dazzling smile at a few of the young gentlemen she passed. Hopefully, one of them would be enraptured enough to offer to buy her a drink.

Nicole stood by the bar for a bit, leaning against the wall and casting seductive glances at any cute guy who walked by. A couple of them stopped and offered to buy her a drink, but she could tell within the first few sentences that came out of their mouths that they weren't worth her time. The first guy actually said, “Heyyyy there, good looking,” while eyeing her up and down, and she'd simply rolled her eyes at him for being so cheesy. She didn't care for guys who were so obvious when they were hitting on her. It generally meant they didn't actually respect her, and they were only looking to get laid.

The second guy was a bit more smooth, at first, saying that he'd love to get to know her better. But then, when she showed the slightest interest, he'd asked if she wanted to go someplace quiet, which was usually code for “someplace we can fool around.” She wasn't that easy, and she'd told him so. Though she'd at least gotten a free drink out of him before she told him to get lost.

She was about to give up on finding anyone worth her time when a rather fine looking man dressed to the nines walked into the club. His black pants and blazer had to be professionally tailored; by the way, they fit so nicely onto his fit, muscular body. And he wore a white silk shirt with the top few buttons undone, giving her a glimpse of his manly chest. He had dirty blonde hair and a light tan; making her wonder if he spent a lot of time outdoors. He looked like the athletic type.

She was still eyeing him, and liking what she saw, when he glanced her way. She caught his eyes, and a small smile spread across his lips. She held his gaze long enough to show her interest, then looked away coyly, waiting to see if he'd return her interest. A moment later he started crossing the room towards her.

“Hello there,” he said, flashing her a dazzling smile.

“Hello yourself,” she said. She held her breath for a moment, hoping this guy wouldn't turn out to be a creeper like the others she'd spoken to that night.

“I'm Horatio,” he said extending his hand. “And may I say, it's a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such a lovely lady as yourself.”

Nicole felt her face heating up. She took Horatio's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Nicole. And I think the pleasure is mine.”

Being called a lovely lady, she thought, was way better than, Hey there, good looking.

“What are you drinking?” Horatio asked, nodding towards the bar.

Nicole took a sip through her straw, finishing off the drink so he could order her another. “Mojito.”

“A lady after my own heart,” he said. He nodded to the bartender. “Two Mojitos, please.”

While the bartender was mixing their drinks, Horatio asked, “So, Nicole, what brings your lovely self out to the club tonight? And please tell me you came here to dance.

“Oh? And why is it so important to you?” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Because if you don't agree to dance with me,” Horatio said, placing a hand over his heart, “I think I might just leave here a broken man.”

She laughed, shaking her head. It was a bit of a corny line, but from the smirk on his face, she was sure he meant it all in good fun. “I never dance with a man I haven't first shared a drink with,” she said.

“Well then,” he said with a smile, “you'll have to sit with me and have a drink.” He accepted the two drinks the bartender handed him, then led Nicole over to a table in the back, where it was a bit quieter. The music on the dance floor was loud enough that they wouldn't be able to talk out there, and Nicole definitely wanted a chance to get to know this man better.

“Do you always come here trying to charm the ladies off their feet?” Nicole asked.

“No,” Horatio said. “I'm in town on business, and I always like to check out the local scene when I travel. There's no better way to get to know a place than to visit the bars and clubs.”

“And why's that?” Nicole asked.

“Because this is where people come to relax,” Horatio said. “To unwind. To really be themselves. The face people put on at work, at school, of hell, even when they're out shopping at the mall, that's not the real you.”

“Oh? You're not your real self when you're shopping?”

“Of course not.” He smirked, stirring his drink with the straw. “Shopping is a social experience. People bring their friends, they ask what other people think, they want to know if the clothes they buy are the right ones. The ones that will make them stand out while fitting in. People want to be beautiful, but they don't want to seem strange or out of touch. So you always need another person's opinion.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Nicole said. She leaned forward, pursing her lips. She was fascinated by the way this man thought, and the confident way he said everything.

“A place like this, on the other hand,” Horatio said, gesturing with his drink to the crowd, “people relax. Oh, they start off dressing up, trying to look nice, to play the part. But once you've had a few drinks and you let the music guide you, you start letting your real self show. See that guy over there?”

He pointed to a man walking over to the dance floor. He looked pretty average, wearing black slacks and a silk shirt. Kind of cute, but he didn't stand out. “What about him?”

“He left his jacket at the table,” Horatio said, pointing.

Nicole looked, and saw the man's fancy blazer slung over the back of a chair.

“It says something about him,” Horatio said. “He probably put a lot of thought into which jacket went best with that outfit, just like I did before coming here.” He smoothed his lapels, sitting a bit straighter. “But when it comes time to relax and let loose, he leaves the jacket behind. Just like the ladies who take off their fancy high heels, shoes that look gorgeous but are impossible to dance in. They set aside the glamour and the expectations, and just have a good time.”

Nicole looked across the dance floor at all of the people letting loose and following the beat of the music. She'd never thought about it like that before, but she realized it was true. Maybe the dance floor was where you really saw people being their own true selves. It made a certain degree of sense, especially when she thought about how exposed you could feel when you were dancing. Most people she knew didn't think they were good dancers, and would never dance on a stage in front of other people. But when you were a part of the crowd and having fun, you didn't worry about who was looking at you. It didn't matter what other people thought, or if they would judge the way that you danced. All that mattered was that you were having a good time.

Horatio finished his drink, then held his hand out to her. “So, what do you say?” he asked. “Care to show me your real self?”

Nicole blushed, lowering her eyes for a moment and taking a sip of her drink. With the way Horatio spoke about dancing, it suddenly seemed like a far more intimate experience than she had ever considered it before. Showing her real self to him.

She set down her drink and looked up into his eyes. “I'd love to.”

She took his hand and he let her out to the dance floor. At first, she was so nervous that she held back, only following Horatio's lead. But then, she told herself that dancing was supposed to be about letting go. About not caring what anyone thought. And she was sure Horatio wouldn't be the type to judge her for whether she was a good dancer or not. And if somehow he did, that would just show that he wasn't the man for her.

She let go and just went with the music, pushing aside her inhibitions. She danced close to Horatio, their bodies touching. He put his hands on her waist, his hips gyrating in time with the beat. He held her eyes with his, his attention focused solely on her. It made her feel like she was the only woman on the dance floor.

They danced until they were both sweaty and breathless, and then went back to the table, smiling and laughing. Nicole was having a great time, and she didn't want the night to end. And she was sure that Horatio must have felt the same way. He kept looking into her eyes, and when he reached up and brushed his fingers gently against her cheek, she was sure that he wanted something more.

Then his cell phone chimed, spoiling the moment. “Damn,” he muttered, letting out a long sigh. He pulled out the phone and checked the screen, his cheerful expression dropping into a disappointed glower.

“I'm truly sorry,” he said, tucking the phone away. “It's something urgent. It really can't wait.”

“Oh. All right. I understand.” She couldn't hide the disappointment from her eyes, but she also knew she couldn't blame him if a true emergency had come up. She was a nurse, and she was all too familiar with urgent phone calls that couldn't be ignored.

He took her hand and held it in both of his. “I want to see you again,” he said. “Please.”

She felt a flutter in her chest. How could she say no? “I'd like that,” she said.

“Will you give me your number?”

She told him her number and he programmed it into his phone. “Thank you, Nicole. I'll call you this weekend. I'd really love it if we can get together.”

“Me too,” she said.

He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back, looking into her eyes. He stepped forward, reaching up to cup her cheek with his palm. He pressed his lips against hers in a sweet, tender kiss. She put her hands on his arms, holding herself against him. And just like out on the dance floor, she didn't hold herself back. She let him feel her desire without being afraid.

He pulled away and touched his fingers to her chin, smiling at her. Then he turned and left, moving through the crowd and out the door.

Nicole sat there and let out a long sigh. She didn't know for sure if she would actually see him again, but even if she didn't, this had been an amazing night.

2

A few days passed. Nicole couldn't keep her encounter with Horatio out of her mind. She tried to rein her foolish emotions in and not get her hopes up. She'd had plenty of bad experiences in the past where a man promised to call, then she never heard from him again. But she wanted to believe that Horatio was different. She knew it was possible she was deluding herself. But she had seen the look in his eyes, and she believed that the desire there had been genuine.

Friday night, she had a long double shift at the hospital. She didn't end up getting a break until well after dinnertime. When there was finally a lull in the stream of patients coming through the emergency room doors, she headed back to the employee break room, aching to get off her feet and relax for a bit. She retrieved her phone from her locker and heated up her dinner in the break room microwave, then sat down to eat.

When she turned on her cell phone, she found she had two missed calls from an unfamiliar number. And since she hadn't been there to answer the phone, the caller had sent her a text message as well:

Hey there. I hope you're still interested in getting together this weekend. I've been looking forward to seeing you again. Give me a call. -H

She smiled, glad that her mystery man from the other night hadn't forgotten about her. She realized that she barely knew anything about him—where he was from, what he did for a living, even his last name—but here was her chance to get to know him better.

She called him back, holding her breath while the phone rang. When Horatio answered, she could hear the excitement in his voice. “Hello, Nicole. So glad to hear from you. I was afraid you were ignoring my calls.”

“No, no, of course, I wasn't,” she said. “I was just busy at work. It's been a long day.”

“Ahh, of course. Forgive me for making assumptions. So, how have you been?”

“Not too bad,” she said. “Busy, of course. But I'm glad you called.”

“And I'm glad to hear your voice.”

Nicole felt her face heating up at his words.

“I'd love to get together,” Horatio said. “Tonight, if possible.”

“Tonight?” Nicole looked at the clock on the wall. She wouldn't be finished her double shift for another two hours, which would mean going out after eight o'clock after a twelve-hour day. She wasn't sure if she had enough energy for it after the day she'd had, though she truly wanted to go.

“I'm going to be leaving town on business tomorrow afternoon,” Horatio said. “I won't be back for two weeks. It would really make me happy if I could see you before I go.”

Nicole chewed on her lip. She wasn't sure what to say, but she didn't want to miss this opportunity. If she waited another two weeks before seeing him, would he lose interest in her? She didn't want to think like that, but she couldn't help herself.

“I'd love to,” she said. She'd just have to catch up on her sleep another day.

“Great. How about dinner? What time can I pick you up?”

They spent a few minutes going over the details, and she gave him the address to her apartment building so he could pick her up after she got done work. Then she spent the rest of her shift distracted, thinking ahead to how the night would go and what she would wear.

She met Horatio in front of her apartment building at nine o'clock, freshly showered and changed into a navy blue dress that hugged her generous curves. He pulled up to the building in a Porsche, and her eyes widened when she saw the beautiful, sleek lines of the silver car. It made her wonder just what he did for a living and how much he was worth.

Horatio got out of the car and walked over to her, holding a single red rose. A beaming smile spread across her face as she accepted it. “Well, well, aren't you the charmer?” she asked.

“Only when a lady captivates me so,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Horatio led her to the car and held the door open for her in a gentlemanly fashion. They made small talk on the way to the restaurant, which turned out to be a rather high-class place that Nicole knew was well out of her price range. She looked around the room as they were led to their table, dazzled by the expensive decor, from the paintings on the walls to the solid gold light fixtures. Once they had their menus and the waiter left to get them a bottle of wine, Nicole looked at Horatio with her eyebrow raised and asked, “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Not at all,” Horatio said. “Just trying to show you a nice time.”

“Well, you're doing a good job so far.”

After the waiter returned with the wine, they shared a toast. Nicole eyed Horatio over the rim of her wine glass, a million questions running through her head. This man wasn't just some ordinary boy picking women up at a club. But she didn't know where to begin peeling away the layers of the mystery sitting before her.

“So,” she finally said. “Where are you from? You said you're only in town on business?”

“I live in New York,” he said. “Though I make my way down to Philly fairly regularly for business, and I do a lot of traveling overseas.”

“Overseas? What sort of business are you in?”

“International finance,” he said. “Boring stuff, really.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Mostly board meetings, meeting with shareholders, that sort of thing. But it lets me travel a lot, so I do enjoy that part.”

“Wow.” Nicole sipped her wine, her head spinning at the thought of so much world travel and big business. “I've never been outside the States. Well, except driving up to Canada once or twice when I was younger, but that barely counts.”

“You should see Europe,” Horatio said. “Beautiful countries out there. So much history.”

Nicole laughed and shook her head. “As if I could ever afford a vacation like that.”

“Well, you never know,” he said, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Is that where you're going tomorrow?” Nicole asked. “Europe?”

“That's right. Only for a few days, then I'll be back in New York. Though I'm sure I could make some time to come down this way, for the right company.” He flashed her a charming smile and she felt her face heating up.

“I think I might like that,” she said, smiling coyly at him.

He asked her about her work, and she spent some time talking about what it was like in the hospital, from the grueling hours to the gossip that inevitably spread among the nursing staff.

“It must be fulfilling work, though,” he said. “Helping people. Saving lives.”

“Sometimes,” she said. “But then you get the paranoid parents who bring their kids in whenever they get a slight fever, and we basically tell them they need some children's cold medicine, plenty of fluids, and bed rest. Or people who read up on their symptoms on the internet and end up convinced they have cancer when all they have is the flu. I mean, I'd rather see people coming in and being safe, instead of ignoring a possible problem when it could be something worse, but sometimes I wish people would use some common sense.”

Horatio chuckled. “Well, common sense is the one thing most people seem to be lacking. Which makes me think that maybe it isn't so common after all. But there's a definite satisfaction to know that you've been able to help people. To save their lives.”

Nicole's eyebrows went up. “Have you ever saved someone's life?” There was a conviction behind his words that made her think he was speaking from personal experience, though she wasn't sure how international finance ever helped save someone's life.

He lowered his eyes, his tone becoming more guarded. “Well, no, not exactly. What I suppose I meant was that we can help improve people's lives. My company does a lot of Samaritan work overseas. Providing disaster relief funding, financing schools and hospitals, that sort of thing.”

“Ahh. Well, that's wonderful. There must be a lot of people who are grateful for what you do for them.”

He looked away, sipping his wine. A slight frown touched Nicole's lips. She had the feeling there was something Horatio wasn't saying. But it didn't seem important enough to press him on.

The conversation moved on to more mundane things, and they spoke for a time about their interests and what they did with their free time. She learned that Horatio enjoyed mountain climbing and other outdoor sports, which didn't surprise her, considering his physique. She told him about her love for animals, and how she'd almost gone into veterinary medicine instead of becoming a nurse. As the conversation carried on, she grew more and more comfortable with him, and it felt like she could tell him anything without fear of judgment or ridicule. It had been a long time since she'd met someone she could talk with so freely, and it was a pleasant relief.

After dessert, Horatio put her arm through his and led her back out to the car. “I've had a lovely evening,” he said. “I truly hope we can do this again when I get back from my trip.”

“Me too,” she said, smiling up at him.

He paused, reaching up to touch her cheek. “I wish the night didn't have to end yet. It would be a shame for it to be over so quickly.”

Nicole swallowed a lump in her throat, her face heating up. She didn't want the night to end either, but she didn't know if she was bold enough to ask him for what she really wanted. But then, she thought about not seeing him again for two whole weeks, and she knew she had to seize the moment and take everything she could get out of this evening.

“The night doesn't have to end yet,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes.

He held her gaze, caressing her cheek. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, his hand sliding back to caress her dark curls. She leaned close to him, feeling his warmth as his body pressed against hers. She could feel the desire radiating from him, and she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

He pulled back and lifted her hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on the backs of her fingers. “My hotel isn't far from here,” he whispered.

She couldn't find her voice. She simply nodded, unable to contain her excitement or find the words to express her desire.

She could barely wait to get to the hotel. While they drove, her hand strayed over to Horatio's knee. She started rubbing his leg gently, sending shivers up his spine. He grinned at her while he drove, and spread his legs apart a bit to give her easier access. She let her hand slide up higher, teasing his inner thigh through the thin silken material of his pants. He shifted in his seat a bit, letting out a slight groan. She could already see the bulge growing in his pants.

She brushed her fingers against it and Horatio tensed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He slowed down a bit, driving extra carefully as she teased him. She rubbed gently, taking her time and driving him wild with the tender, sensual touches. By the time they pulled into the parking garage at the hotel, Horatio looked like he was about to lose control.

They parked the car and hurried over to the elevator. As soon as they got inside, Horatio took her into his arms, tracing his fingers across her delicate caramel skin. He kissed her ear, her neck, her shoulder, sending little shivers down her body with each touch of his lips against her flesh. His hand slid into her hair and he tilted her head to the side, then he started sucking softly on the skin at the side of her neck.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened out into the lobby. Nicole and Horatio pulled apart, both of them blushing as a bellboy entered, pushing a luggage cart. He cast an eye over them, and then turned away, studiously ignoring them. They waited until he got off on the third floor before they resumed pawing at each other, Horatio pinning Nicole against the wall and grinding against her.

As soon as they got into the hotel room, Horatio started pulling off her dress. It fell to the floor in a heap and she stepped out of it, kicking her shoes off as she went. Horatio lowered her down onto the bed, planting a trail of kisses down her chest as he pulled off her bra, then her panties. His fingers roamed between her legs, teasing her the way she'd teased him earlier. His touch sent chills down her spine, and Nicole's back arched as the raw ecstasy poured over her.

Then he was inside her, standing at the edge of the bed with her legs propped up on his shoulders. She grabbed the bed sheets in her fists, closing her eyes and letting out moans so loud she was sure that whoever was in the next room would hear. But she didn't care. She let all her inhibitions go, abandoning herself to the pleasure of Horatio's touch, letting him fill her and make her feel complete. She felt like she was floating, and the darkness that cloaked her in the shadowy hotel room made her vision spin. She pulled Horatio down on top of her, clinging to his shoulders, burying her face against his neck to stifle her moans as she came.

Afterward, she held him tight against her, feeling the heat of his body pressed against hers. He laid his head against her chest, catching his breath. She let her fingers trail through his dirty blonde hair, a blissful smile on her face. And when she finally drifted off to sleep, she was more peaceful and content than she could remember being for a very long time.

3

In the morning, Nicole woke up in a blissful state of relaxation. She knew she had to be at work soon, but she didn't even want to think about such things. Not when she was still savoring the experience she'd shared with Horatio last night. She was in too good of a mood to let anything spoil it.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room. A room service cart was parked by the bed, and the succulent smells of breakfast wafted from under the tray's lid. The curtains were open just a bit, letting the morning light into the room.

Nicole stretched out on the bed, and then frowned, looking for Horatio. She sat up, wondering where he could have gone. Then she heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.

She grinned and got up, lifting the lid on the food tray and snagging a bit of sausage. She nibbled on it as she headed to the bathroom on her tiptoes, planning to surprise Horatio by joining him in the shower. But she paused at the door when she heard Horatio's voice. He was speaking to someone, very softly, though she could barely make out what he was saying.

She leaned closer to the door, holding her breath and trying not to make a sound. There was no other voice in the room, so she assumed he must have been on the phone. Probably, she figured, speaking to one of his business associates about the trip he was leaving on later today. But his voice sounded heated, and she found herself curious what he could possibly be talking about.

“No, extraction shouldn't be a problem,” Horatio said. “Yes. Yes, I know. Don't worry, it's all taken care of.”

He was quiet for a moment. Nicole froze, wondering if he had heard her by the door. She held still and waited, feeling like a snoop but unable to resist her curiosity.

“Understood,” Horatio said. “ETA is eleven p.m. local time. That's right. Understood. Over and out.”

Nicole frowned, pondering the meaning of the strange, one-sided conversation. But she knew she couldn't say anything about it. She didn't want to anger Horatio by admitting that she'd been eavesdropping.

The faucet squeaked as Horatio turned off the shower. Nicole hurried back over to the bed, bringing the breakfast tray with her. When Horatio emerged from the bathroom, she smiled at him, pretending she had just been waking up to breakfast.

“Good morning,” he said, flashing a charming smile at her.

“Morning yourself,” she said. “Thank you for breakfast. This looks amazing.” She picked up the fork, scooping up some scrambled eggs.

Horatio gave her a kiss, and then he started getting dressed. “I hate to rush out so early, but I need to get going if I'm going to make my flight. It's a ten-hour flight, so I had to book the earliest one I could find.”

“I'll get dressed,” Nicole said, setting the breakfast tray aside.

“No, you don't need to rush yourself.” He smiled at her and gently traced his fingers along her cheek. “Take your time. Enjoy breakfast. I'll have a car waiting for you to take you home.”

Horatio finished getting dressed, and then gave her a long, sensual kiss before he left. Nicole lounged in bed for a little bit longer, taking her time eating and relaxing before she had to go back to work. The night in the hotel felt like a mini-vacation, a chance for her to get away from the stresses of her life, not to mention an opportunity to start something new and exciting. She didn't want to break the spell yet, though she knew she had no choice.

When she knew she couldn't delay it any longer, Nicole got dressed and headed downstairs. She found a man in a chauffeur's uniform waiting there, holding a card with her name on it. She walked up to him, smiling. She hadn't expected Horatio to go to so much trouble.

“Hi, I'm Nicole,” she said.

“Good morning, ma'am,” the chauffeur said, tipping his hat. “I'm to drive you home, or anywhere else you need.”

He led her out to a black luxury car, and he held open the door for her as she got in. The seats were made of the softest leather she'd ever touched, and the car was decked out with a mini fridge, a TV, and all the amenities. She looked around at the fancy interior of the car, wondering again just how much Horatio was worth. Not that she cared about such things. She wasn't dating him for his money. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

By the time Nicole got home, changed into her work clothes, and drove to the hospital, it was starting to feel like the entire night with Horatio had been a dream. He remained in her thoughts throughout the day, and whenever she had a break between patients, she thought about calling him, just to see how he was doing and to make sure he hadn't just been a figment of her imagination. But then, she remembered that he was on a plane to Europe, and she had no way of reaching him.

The next day, while she was enjoying her day off at home, she was surprised to hear her doorbell ring. When she answered the door, she found a deliveryman there, holding a bouquet of flowers. She accepted them, smiling like a schoolgirl in love. The card read, “My Dear Nicole, our night together was magical. You'll be in my thoughts until I return. -H”

She held the bouquet up and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. It had been a long time since any man had given her flowers, and none had ever had a bouquet delivered to her home like this. It made her feel once more like Horatio was the perfect man. Though she couldn't help the nagging feeling that he was simply too good to be true.

Waiting for Horatio to return from his trip was hard, but Nicole knew that she was still in his thoughts. He called her a couple of times, and each time, they talked for hours. He never said much about his trip or what kind of business he was up to—he said it was all boring work, mostly sitting around in meetings while people argued about budgets and cost analyses—but he talked often about how much he was looking forward to coming home and seeing her again.

A few days before he was set to return, they were on the phone well past midnight. After a long talk about how his trip was going and the sights he'd seen in Europe, Horatio said, “I'd like to see you as soon as I get back. Dinner and a show. What do you think?”

“I'd love to,” Nicole said. “I can't wait to see you again.”

“My flight is landing in New York Saturday morning. I've booked us tickets for a Broadway show later that night, along with reservations for dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful. I've never been to Broadway.”

“Well, we'll just have to fix that now, won't we?” Horatio chuckled into the phone. “There's a whole world out there that I'd like to show you. You're going to love it. I'll have a car sent for you to bring you to New York. Oh, and I'll be sending a little something special along as well.”

“Something special?” Nicole asked, frowning in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You'll see, my dear. It should be there Saturday morning, a few hours before the car arrives.”

“Can I get a hint?”

“No, no,” Horatio said in an amused tone. “Now that would spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?”

“I don't know if I can be that patient...”

“Well, my dear, you'll just have to be,” Horatio said.

Nicole's curiosity plagued her for the next few days, until Saturday morning rolled around. She was up early, pacing around her apartment, wondering when Horatio's surprise would get there. Every time she heard a car outside, she peeked out the window, wondering if it was the delivery truck. She tried to tell herself to settle down and be patient, but after two weeks without seeing Horatio, she found she just couldn't relax.

Finally, her doorbell rang. She hurried over to the door with a big grin on her face. When she opened it, a man was standing there with a rather large package in his arms. She signed for it, then brought it inside and laid it down on the kitchen table.

When she opened the lid, she found a black silk dress inside. She picked it up and held it against herself. The material was so smooth it was like heaven to touch it. And it wasn't just some ordinary off the rack dress, either. It was a designer label, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how much it had cost.

She tried the dress right away. She didn't know how Horatio had guessed at her size so perfectly, but the dress fit as if it had been tailored just for her. It hugged her curves in all the right places, and the low-cut top showed off a generous amount of cleavage. She couldn't wait to show it off in front of Horatio.

She was a bundle of nerves by the time the car arrived to take her to New York. Fortunately, the car had a mini bar in the back seat, and she helped herself to a couple of drinks during the long drive. She was pleasantly relaxed by the time the car pulled up in front of the restaurant. She found Horatio already waiting there for her, and seeing his charming smile once more lifted her spirits after the two weeks they'd spent apart.

He greeted her with a kiss, and then led her into the restaurant. They dined on some of the finest cuisine Nicole had ever tasted while he told her tales of the sights he had seen and the historic beauty of some of the world's oldest cities. Nicole found herself a bit dumbstruck by Horatio's stories, and she knew that her stories of drama in the emergency room simply wouldn't compare. It made her wonder what a man like Horatio could possibly see in her. Surely, she thought, he could find some rich, beautiful woman who was more in his league. But for reasons she couldn't fathom, he had chosen her.

At the theatre, they sat in a private box, their seats close together, so Horatio could put his arm around her. Nicole laid her head against his shoulder, captivated by the show on the stage. It was so riveting that she lost track of time while the performance carried on. She wanted the night to go on forever.

But the magic was interrupted when Horatio's cell phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the screen and sighing. He gave Nicole and apologetic look.

“Do you really have to answer that?” she whispered.

“I'm afraid I do,” he said.

He got up and stepped out of the box, leaving her alone. She looked over her shoulder, peeking out through the curtain that closed the box off from the corridor. Horatio stood in the corner, speaking into the phone in a low hush. Nicole watched him with a frown, wondering what could be so damn important that he would interrupt their first date together in two weeks.

She leaned a bit closer, trying to make out what he was saying. Most of it was too quiet for her to hear. Though it sounded like he was arguing with someone. She heard him say “No” more than once, and through the gap in the curtains, she could see him making angry gestures with his hands.

He looked up at her, catching her watching him through the curtain. She turned back around, trying to pretend that she hadn't been trying to eavesdrop. A few moments later, Horatio stepped back into the box and sat next to her. He straightened his jacket, sitting up straight, a stoic expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” Nicole whispered. She put a hand on his knee.

Horatio's spine stiffened. He didn't meet her eyes. “Yes. Everything's fine.”

But she knew he wasn't telling the truth. There was something in his posture, in the cold tone of his voice that told her something was wrong. Something that he didn't want to tell her. And while she wanted to respect his privacy, she couldn't help but wonder what the phone call had been about.

4

After the show, Horatio and Nicole walked out of the theatre arm in arm. The smile had finally returned to Horatio's face, and Nicole took it as a good sign. She tried her best to put her earlier concerns out of her mind.

Horatio's driver brought the car around to pick them up. Horatio opened the door for Nicole, kissing her lips before she got in. When the car started to drive, Horatio put a hand on Nicole's knee and asked, “Are you in any rush to get back home tonight?”

She smiled at him, feeling warmth spread through her at his touch. “I didn't have any other plans tonight,” she said. “Other than spending my time with you.”

“In that case,” Horatio said, “you should come back to my hotel. I left a bottle of wine chilling there, and we can put on some music and enjoy the rest of our evening together.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Nicole leaned forward and kissed him. Horatio raised the divider between the front and back seats, giving them some privacy from the driver. He pulled her close, his lips caressing hers while his hands began to roam her generous curves. She shifted closer to him until she was practically on his lap, and his hand started to slide up her skirt. She broke the kiss for just a moment, nervous about doing anything in the car. But the windows were tinted and the divider was raised. No one could see what they were doing. And the thrill of fooling around in the car, while they drove past dozens of other people on the road, made her feel deliciously naughty.

She reached over and laid her hand against Horatio's thigh. He shifted to give her easier access as she started rubbing him through the silken material of his pants. Her hand rose higher, teasing his crotch. Horatio moaned, his fingers gripping her hair as he continued kissing her. She teased him for a few more moments, letting her nails trace across his bulge. It grew harder at her touch, straining against the fabric of his pants. She pulled her hand away and stroked his thigh, trying to spur him on and make him want it more. He let out a sharp groan and reached down to push her hand back, holding it firmly against his crotch. She giggled, pulling back from his kiss to look teasingly into his eyes. He gazed lustfully at her, a dominant growl rumbling in his throat.

“You're a tease,” he said, stroking her dark hair.

“Maybe,” she said, giggling.

Horatio reached down and unzipped his pants, exposing his hardness to her. She licked her lips, glancing down at it, and then looking back up into his eyes. He reached a hand behind her head and gripped her hair, pushing her down. She didn't resist as he pushed her head down onto his crotch. She opened her mouth and let his hot flesh slide between her lips. Horatio held her hair tight and guided her motions as she bobbed her head up and down, letting her lips caress his flesh. He moaned in ecstasy as she pleasured him. His head leaned back against the leather seats and he closed his eyes, letting her work her magic.

All too soon, the car arrived at the hotel. When the car stopped, Nicole sat up, wiping her lips. Horatio quickly zipped himself up and straightened his clothes, and by the time the driver came around to open the door, they both looked presentable again.

They got out and headed into the hotel. The driver flashed a knowing smile at Nicole on her way by. Her face heated up, as she wondered what he might have heard from the front seat of the car. But she told herself that she didn't care. She was a grown woman, doing what she wanted with a grown man, and she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Horatio led her to the elevator, and as soon as they were inside and the doors closed, he started kissing and touching her again. He pinned her against the wall, his firm hands massaging her full breasts. She gasped and moaned, grinding herself against him. She could barely wait for the elevator to get up to Horatio's suite.

When they got into the room, Horatio didn't even wait long enough to get to the bed. He pushed her against the table by the door, knocking a lamp out of the way. He reached down to grip her ass, lifting her up onto the table, and then he pulled her skirt up and her panties down. She kissed him eagerly, unbuttoning his shirt while he dropped his pants. He was still half-dressed when he plunged inside her, and she moaned in ecstasy as he filled her and started thrusting in and out of her.

Nicole clung to Horatio's shoulders as he held her against the table, giving it to her hard, just as she needed it. He kissed her ear and sucked on her neck, leaving love bites on her soft, caramel skin. She cried out in pleasure, not caring if anyone else in the hotel heard the racket they were making. All she cared about in that moment was the man she was with and the way their bodies were joined. She was in heaven, and she called out Horatio's name over and over as he filled her, bringing her to new heights of pleasure.

They moved to the bed and made love for hours, surrounded by silken sheets and caressing shadows. Later in the night, Nicole laid there in Horatio's arms, holding him close against her. She drifted into a sleep filled with wonderful dreams, and she felt warm and safe wrapped in the silk sheets and her lover's embrace.

Sometime later, she awoke to an empty bed. She looked around blearily, searching the shadows for her lover. She saw him standing by the door, hunched over the table there. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. He looked up at her, then came back to the bed, smiling.

“You should get some sleep,” Horatio said. He kissed her forehead, climbing into bed next to her.

“What are you doing up?” she asked him.

“Nothing. Just went to the bathroom.”

There was something tense in Horatio's eyes, something that made Nicole hesitate. “I'll be back in bed in a minute,” she said. She got up and headed to the bathroom, stopping to get her purse on the way. She found her purse sitting on the table by the door. She frowned at it, hesitating for a moment. She was sure she had tossed her purse on the floor when they got into the room. It couldn't have been sitting there on the table, not when that was where Horatio had pinned her down when they first got there. She would have known if she'd been sitting on the purse while he fucked her.

In the bathroom, she dug through her purse for some toiletries, wondering about what she'd seen. Had Horatio been looking through her purse? She couldn't imagine why. There was nothing valuable or interesting in there, and besides, he had so much money that she couldn't imagine him trying to steal from her. It must have been her imagination, she told herself. Though something in the back of her mind bothered her about the whole situation.

She made herself ignore the baseless worries. She finished cleaning up, and then went back to bed, snuggling into Horatio's arms. She drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and protected in his embrace, and certain that any concerns she had were nothing but her overactive imagination.

5

A few weeks passed, and Horatio didn't have to leave the country on business again, giving them a great deal of time together. Nicole savored every day she spent with Horatio, from the dinners together, to the plays and shows he took her to, to the nights they spent in bed together. She started feeling like he was becoming an undeniable part of her life. This made it all the harder when he told her he had another trip coming up soon.

“Again?” she asked, pouting at him. They sat across from each other while having dinner at a fine restaurant. “I know it's your job and all, but I was really getting used to having you around.”

“It'll only be for a week or two,” Horatio said. “I wish I could get out of it, but I really can't. This is a really important business deal that needs to be closed.”

Nicole let out a long sigh. “When are you leaving?”

“In three days,” he said. He flashed her a charming smile. “Plenty of time for us to spend together before I go.”

“Except that I'm busy working the next three days,” Nicole said. “I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but I can't put off work.”

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Well, I suppose I can't complain about you being busy at work, considering that I'm leaving the country for my own work.”

She smirked at him. “Well, I just wish my job was as glamorous as yours. I'd much rather be overseas seeing the sights than stuck in the emergency room for a twelve-hour shift.”

“We each have to pay our dues,” he said.

“I suppose that's true.”

They made the best they could of the next few days, sharing quiet evenings at Nicole's apartment after she got done from work each day. She was too exhausted to go out to a club or even to dinner after working such long shifts, but Horatio didn't complain. He seemed content to enjoy her company, even if it was simply sitting on the couch, watching a movie together and fooling around before bed.

She insisted on seeing him off at the airport the day he left, despite his objections that she didn't need to. “I'm just going to be standing in line for two hours to get through security,” he said. “Not very exciting.”

“Well, I still want to see you off,” she insisted. “It's the last time we'll be seeing each other for weeks. I want to make the most of it.”

She drove down to the airport with him, and they spent some time fooling around in the backseat of the car while Horatio's driver made his way through the airport traffic. When they got to the airport it was still early morning. The sun was shining, though the chilling breeze made the air inhospitable. Nicole stood with Horatio at the terminal, her arms wrapped around herself, wishing she had brought a jacket.

“I'll call you first chance I get,” Horatio said. He cupped her cheeks with his hands and he leaned in to press his lips against hers.

“I'll miss you,” she said.

“I'll miss you as well, darling.” He smiled at her, but the smile didn't quite touch his eyes. There was a tension there that set Nicole's nerves on edge.

“What is it?” she asked.

He gave a small shake of his head. “Nothing. It's...nothing.”

“Is something wrong?” She frowned. His behavior had been a bit off for a while now. Ever since the night at the theatre. She had tried to convince herself that it was just her imagination, but the tension hadn't dissipated. She couldn't help but fear that she had done something wrong.

“Don't worry about it.” He kissed her forehead, and then hugged her tight, wrapping his strong arms around her. He held her so tight that she thought he was afraid to let go. When he pulled back, the tension was still in his eyes, but there was a deep affection there as well.

“Have a safe flight,” she said. She gave him one last kiss before he left. She stood there outside the terminal, watching through the windows as he walked up to airport security. She wanted to rush inside, to hold him close, and to capture one last moment together. But she knew she had to let him go.

“Ma'am?” the driver said, stepping up alongside her. “We need to go. We can't stay parked here.”

Nicole let out a long sigh. “I know,” she said, hanging her head. “I know.”

She got back in the car, and the driver brought her home. For the next few days, she moped around her apartment, feeling under the weather. At first, she shrugged it off as love sickness. But when she threw up in the morning on the third day, she knew it had to be something more. Between the nausea, how tired she'd been lately, and the soreness she was starting to develop in certain places, she started recognizing the signs. A trip to the drug store later that day helped her confirm it. She was pregnant.

Horatio called her that night from overseas. She answered the phone with tension in her voice, not sure whether she should reveal the truth to him now, or wait until after he returned from his trip. She paced around her apartment while they chatted and Horatio told her about the sights he'd seen so far on his trip. She barely responded, only hearing half of what he said while her mind was preoccupied with her own thoughts.

After they'd been speaking for a little while, Horatio asked, “Nicole, is everything all right?”

“Yes, of course,” Nicole said, her voice a bit more high pitched than she would have liked. “Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Well you seem a little...off,” he said.

Nicole closed her eyes and rubbed a hand over her face. “Sorry. I'm just...I'm just a little under the weather, that's all.”

“You're sick? You should go see a doctor. Oh, what am I talking about?” Horatio chuckled. “You work in a hospital. You're surrounded by doctors.”

“Yeah,” Nicole said, still too distracted to focus.

Horatio was silent for a long moment. “Nicole, are you sure you're all right?”

Nicole held her breath, trying to decide what to do. She didn't want to worry Horatio, and she didn't like hiding anything from him. But it seemed too impersonal to tell him this kind of news over the phone.

Yet, on the other hand, she didn't think she could keep it in.

“Nicole?” Horatio asked. She could hear the worry in his voice.

“Horatio...”

“Yes, dear? What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “Well...the thing is...I'm pregnant.”

There was a long pause. Nicole held the phone close to her ear, straining to hear anything. For a moment, she worried that the call had been disconnected.

“Are you sure?” Horatio asked.

“Yes. Well, I took a test. They're pretty accurate.”

Horatio was silent for another long moment. Then he said, “All right. Listen. There's something I'm going to need to take care of when I get back to the States. I'll need a day or two.”

“What?” Nicole asked, a frown forming on her face. “Horatio, what are you talking about?”

“I'll explain when I can,” he said. “For the time being, you're going to have to trust me.”

“Trust you? Horatio, what's going on? I just told you that I'm pregnant.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “And I want to make the best possible life for you and our child. This is why I need to take care of this. I've been putting it off for too long.”

“Take care of what?” She threw a hand in the air in frustration. “Horatio, you're not making any sense.”

“I can't discuss it over the phone. Just trust me. I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to protect you and our baby. I'll see you soon.”

He hung up before she could ask any of the questions that were rampaging around in her head. But the biggest question of all was, protect her from what?

6

As the time until Horatio's return slowly passed, Nicole found herself more and more worried about him. He hadn't called her back since she had told him she was pregnant, and she didn't know what to think about that. Her pregnancy and her future weighed on her mind, making it hard to concentrate at work. In the break room one day, one of her coworkers, Tanya, commented on her odd behavior of late.

“Have you been feeling okay?” Tanya asked. She frowned at Nicole in concern. “You've been kind of out of it lately.”

“I've got some stuff going on,” Nicole said, avoiding Tanya's eyes. She wasn't sure how much to share with her friend.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Nicole bit her lip. Her fingers toyed with a napkin, tearing it into little pieces and leaving them scattered all over her lunch tray. “It's really kind of complicated. I'm not sure where to begin.”

Well, that wasn't true. She knew where she really needed to begin.

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out as a long sigh. “I'm pregnant.”

“Wow.” Tanya toyed with her fork, chewing on her lower lip as she seemed to consider what to say. “Is that...are you happy?”

“I don't know,” Nicole said. “I mean, part of me is. But I've only been seeing Horatio for a couple of months. I'm not sure we're ready for this.” She didn't know how to bring up her other concerns: Horatio's odd behavior, the strange way he'd acted on the phone, and her worry that there was something else going on that she didn't know about.

“But isn't he like, rich or something?” Tanya asked. “That's good, right? I mean, he'll help take care of you and the baby.”

“I'm sure he will,” Nicole said. “That's not what I'm worried about?”

“Then what is it?”

Nicole looked off into the distance, trying to sort through her thoughts. She didn't know how to put the pieces together. The strange phone calls. Horatio's secretive behavior. The frequent trips overseas. “I don't know. I guess...I guess I'm just worried that I don't know enough about him. Not enough to want to raise a child together.”

“That's rough,” Tanya said. “But you've got time, right? Nine months to get to know each other. Maybe that'll be all it takes.”

“Yeah,” Nicole said in a noncommittal tone. “Yeah, maybe it will be.”

Nicole spent the rest of the night trying to keep herself in a good mood. She was almost certain that her concerns were nothing more than paranoia, brought about by stress, hormones, and the longing she felt for her lover when he was away on business. Everything would be fine, she told herself, when Horatio came back home and she could celebrate their baby together in person.

All of her reassurances fell apart, however, when she came home to find two strange men waiting for her outside her apartment.

“Nicole Willis?” one of the men asked. They were both tall, muscular men, wearing dark suits.

“Umm...yes?” She looked between them, wondering who they were and what this was all about.

“My name is Agent Stevens, this is Agent Conners.” He flashed her a government ID and badge. “We'd like to ask you a few questions.”

Nicole's heart started to race. What were these men doing at her home? She tried to think of anything she could have done to warrant an investigation by government agents, but nothing came to mind. The worst crime she'd ever committed was being late paying for a speeding ticket. She barely even cheated on her taxes.

“What...what is this about?” She looked from one agent to the other, her eyes wide. Her mouth felt dry and there was a sick churning in her stomach.

“Can we discuss that inside?” Agent Stevens asked. He stepped to the side and gestured towards her apartment door.

“Umm. All right. I guess so.”

She walked past the men, fumbling to get her keys out of her purse. She wondered for a moment if this was some kind of prank, or a scam. A momentary fear flashed in her mind that these men were thieves or con artists, using fake badges to get into her home. But something about the serious look on their faces told her that they were for real.

Nicole turned on the lights in her apartment, and then sat down on the couch, clutching her purse in her lap. Agent Conners shut the door after he entered, and then remained standing. Agent Stevens moved some clothes off the chair across from Nicole, and then sat down. He looked her in the eye, a stern expression on his face.

“Can you tell me what's going on?” Nicole asked.

“Ms. Willis,” he asked, “are you familiar with a man named Horatio Cameron?”

She nodded, licking her dry lips. “Yes. Yes, he's my boyfriend.”

“And what about a man named Igor Romanov?”

Nicole shook her head, frowning. “Who?”

Agent Stevens leaned forward, frowning at her. “Igor Romanov. Russian businessman, doing business here in the States, in Philadelphia. Are you saying you don't know him?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Nicole clutched her purse tighter. She couldn't understand what was going on, or whether or not she was in some kind of trouble.

Agent Stevens reached into his jacket. Nicole tensed, sitting up straighter. He pulled out a phone, turned it on, and tapped a few commands, then turned the screen towards her. There was a photo of a dark-haired man with a short beard. It was a man she was sure she'd never seen before.

“I don't know who that is,” she said.

“So you're claiming you've never had any contact with Mr. Romanov,” he said.

“Of course, I haven't. What is this all about?”

Agent Stevens put the phone away. “How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Cameron?”

Nicole shook her head in confusion, thrown off by the sudden change in subjects. “Horatio? What does he have to do with this?”

“Just answer the question please, ma'am.” Agent Stevens folded his hands and gave her a stern look. “Your relationship with Mr. Cameron?”

“We're dating,” she said.

“Are you sleeping together?”

“Now that is none of your damn business.” Nicole glared at the two men, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Listen, I don't know who you are or how you think you can just come into my home and ask me about my personal life, but—”

“Ms. Willis, we'll ask the questions, if you don't mind.”

“I sure as hell do mind,” Nicole said. She stood up, glaring down at the man. “What the hell is this about, anyway? Shouldn't I have a lawyer here?”

The two agents exchanged a look. Agent Stevens stood up, looking down at her. “We're just talking here,” he said.

“Not anymore.” Nicole pointed at the door. “I want you out of my house. If you want to ask me any more of your damn invasive questions, you can talk to my lawyer.”

Agent Stevens ground his teeth, but said nothing. He obviously knew he was stuck now. Nicole didn't know much about the law, but she knew she didn't have to answer any questions if she didn't want to.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to her and said, “If you change your mind and decide you want to talk, give us a call. Keep in mind; it will be in your best interest if you cooperate.”

Nicole snatched the card away from him. “Cooperate in what? You haven't even told me what this is about.”

“I'd be happy to discuss that with you,” he said, “if you'll just answer a few more questions.”

“Forget it.” Nicole gestured to the door. “Out. Go. I want you out of my home.”

“Very well,” Agent Stevens said. “Have a nice day, ma'am.”

The two men left and Nicole locked the door behind them. Then she leaned against it, her chest heaving as she fought off sobs. She slid down to the ground, leaning back against the door. Tears welled in her eyes. She stared at the agent's card, unable to process what had just happened.

As soon as she composed herself enough that she could think straight, she pulled out her phone and dialed Horatio's number.

7

Nicole's hands were shaking while she waited for Horatio to answer the phone. It rang and rang, and for a long, grueling moment, she thought he was ignoring her call. Then he answered, his voice sounding sleepy. “Nicole? Is everything all right?”

“No,” she said. “Everything isn't all right.”

She heard a rustling sound, and realized it was Horatio getting out of bed. She'd forgotten about the time difference where he was. She must have awaked him in the middle of the night. “What's wrong?”

“There were men,” she said. “Men who said they were from the government. They came to my apartment.” She explained everything she could about her encounter with the two agents, though none of it made any sense to her and she found herself fumbling over her words.

“Damn,” Horatio muttered. “I told them...”