Free Read Novels Online Home

The Billionaire's Baby by Ruby O'Hara (1)

COPYRIGHT

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

Copyright © Ruby O’Hara 2018

 

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

 

FBI Anti-Piracy Warning:

 

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI, and is punishable by up to five years in prison, and a fine of $250,000.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE BILLIONAIRE’S BABY

by

RUBY O’HARA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE

It was his fourth time in the office that month.

Quickly, Carla Thornton sat up straighter in her seat in what she hoped to be a disarming but alert pose. Keeping her expression carefully neutral, Carla followed the man’s walk to her table with her eyes. He was covering the twelve or so feet that separated the door and her table in fast smooth strides – and it was always amazing to watch him do so. He always was in a hurry, as if he just couldn’t wait to rule and conquer. This time as always, Carla felt slightly out of breath watching Jackson Daniels approach her table.

The man was too handsome for his own good. Golden haired and six feet four, he was already a threat to ladies everywhere but no, he had to have broad chests as wide as the Texan plain, the brownest eyes Carla had ever seen and a voice that melted butter. And oh – add those up to the fact that he was thirty, unmarried and as rich as Croesus, you have Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor.

“Good morning Carla, you look as radiant as always – my eyes hurt just from looking at you,” Jackson said as soon as he reached her table. That voice of his really was too suave, too smooth. The man must take lessons from Lucifer. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned over and added in an exaggerated whisper, “And have you thought about my proposal – are you ready to ditch the Iron man and come work for me?”

Really, the man was an unrepentant rogue. Carla could not help but laugh.

“Good morning Mr. Daniels,” she replied cheekily. “And my answer remains the same. No, I will do no such thing, I like my work here very much, thank you.”

However, she knew that he meant every word he said. The very first time that the man had walked into their office, he had taken one look at her and decided that he would offer her three times her current salary if only she would come work for him – and he had said it in front of her boss too. But Carla was nothing if not faithful. Plus five minutes in a closed meeting with Jackson Daniels and her boss and she knew she would only be the pawn in a very elaborate game of chess. No, thank you. She was simply not going to work for him.

“Ouch,” Jackson held his heart as if she had just stabbed him through. “You sure know how to break a man’s heart.”

A natural flirt, he simply couldn’t help flirting with any lady within proximity. By now, Carla was used to their playful banter whenever Jackson came around. Hand still on his chest, he leaned away and stood above her, one hip leaning against her three feet glass barricade, looking as brilliant as the sun. For all his relaxed demeanor, he could be posing for a magazine and not in their office for a business meeting. Carla knew for a fact that all the leisurely air would disappear as soon as her boss arrived on the scene, but then, that was none of her business. Carla Thornton never stuck her nose where it didn’t belong.

“I daresay, Mr. Daniels that you have a heart made of steel, unbreakable, indomitable, unaffected,” she said with her best poker face. “It will readily survive all sorts of heartbreak and in whatever form.”

Her straight face did not fool him. Head thrown back carelessly, Jackson laughed out loud, the sound ricocheting off the glass walls of the office. His mirth shook his shoulders and Carla found herself staring a little bit too long.

“Now, I know why I felt a thousand pair of eyes on me all the way from the front door six floors down and till I got here! I see you all read Manhattan’s Rich here.”

Carla said nothing. This weekend, the celebrity gossip magazine had featured the handsome millionaire – and it wasn’t the first time too. One particular bit of news that Carla vividly remembered was an interview with pictures of Jackson in his posh mansion overlooking the New York Bay, the house was one he inherited from his grandmother.

‘I do not intend to get married,” the handsome devil had been quoted to have said.

That statement alone was enough to send the ladies to him in droves; each of them thinking she would be the one to lead him down the altar. None had succeeded yet. In this weekend edition of Manhattan Rich, it was rumored that Senator Oman’s spoilt-rotten beautiful daughter, Mia Oman had broken up with him. Their relationship had been exactly three months old. Follow-up pictures to the story had shown Mia leaving a stoic looking Jackson in front of a hotel where they’d both gone for a party. In Carla’s opinion, Mia had been looking quite distraught and Jackson, very much unbothered. But the society always favored little daddy’s girls in news like that – so who was she to think there wasn’t any heartbreak on his part? In fact, right now, with all the amusement in his eyes, the handsome cad didn’t look like his girlfriend had just left him two nights ago!

“I didn’t figure you to be the kind who read those kinds of magazine,” he murmured warmly.

“I didn’t figure you for the type who did too,” she retorted immediately.

“Touché.” Smiling and shaking his head, Jackson smiled at her. “You are too smart for a company like this,” he told her. “You could come work for me and use all those talent of yours…”

“And you are late for your business meeting,” she said smartly, deliberately cutting him off and looking pointedly in the direction of the door opposite her desk.

“No, I’m never late,” he waved his hand nonchalantly.

But she could see the smile leave his eyes even at the thought of business alone. However, she was certain that it wasn’t business alone that got him frowning so hard at the oak paneled door right before them. It was the man behind the door, his arch rival, his nemesis that put that mar of frown on his dark, thick brows. Carla stared at the door too. Front and center was a gold-plated placard that read ‘Adrian Wood’. For the umpteenth time, Carla wondered at the relationship between the two men. But hell would certainly freeze over before either of them filled her in on the blanks.

As if conjured, the oak door opened suddenly, and a head appeared. “Carla, if Daniels doesn’t arrive in the next two minutes…”

The rest of his words died away as he noticed the visitor.

“Save your breath brother, I’m here already.”

Marvel would have done the scene before her a world of good with the most appropriate movie effect, Carla though sarcastically. The air around the whole office cackled with tension as the two men sized each other up. Jackson rose to his full height, looking easily intimidating. His brown-eyed gaze did not waver as he stared down at his brother. Adrian too stood as tall as his five feet nine could hold him. He straightened his tie – which didn’t need straightening to begin with – and stepped out of his office to give the visitor a steely grey stare. Carla felt the room temperature dropping dangerously; she might need a sweater soon.

Really, who could think the two men were brothers? If she wasn’t privy to some of their businesses, Carla would bet her a whole year’s salary against the very thought.

“How long have you been here?” Adrian asked, eyeing Carla.

“Oh, only a few minutes,” Jackson waved his hands carelessly. “In fact, Carla and I were just negotiating a salary. She’ll hand in her notice soon.”

If it were to be any other person, Carla would have gotten annoyed at him for bringing her into their battle of wills. But she knew that Adrian understood that she owed him everything and she would never betray him like that. She was quite a bit miffed though and to set Jackson straight, so he wouldn’t bring her into their mindless games again, she said, “And didn’t I just tell you that dreaming up such stories is bad for your health, Mr. Daniels?”

He raised his broad shoulders in a shrug, looking only slightly apologetic for her benefit. Adrian had his eyes on Jackson. His brows were furrowed in the shrewd way that Carla knew so well; that look had earned them numerous contracts in the past. Adrian was calculating but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what. She hoped it had nothing to do with her.

“You’re really trying to get Carla to come work for you, aren’t you?” Adrian said softly.

“And why not?” Jackson answered unashamedly. “She’s a damn good assistant and you’re letting her waste her talents here. We both know you don’t deserve her.”

“And you do?” Adrian scoffed.

Now, what the hell were the boys talking about?

Carla felt like the girlfriend caught between the ex and the next. “Wait there, both of you. I don’t remember announcing that I am leaving Heights Publishing, so you might as well stop this insane discussion right here and now!”

She could have been talking to the wall for all the attention they paid her. But they did stop antagonizing each other and that was some small victory, she consoled herself. Now, they simply stood feet apart, glaring at each other and innocently taking down the room temperature some more.

“Just get in here,” Adrian mumbled at last, turning on his heels to lead the way into the office.

Jackson didn’t move. “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve been missing me, big bro, it’s only been a week.”

“Don’t bite, Adrian. Don’t take the bait,” Carla muttered under her breath. But of course, Adrian did. Her boss turned back ever so slowly to give his brother a disdainful once over.

“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted irritably “It’s only that we don’t all have time to frolic in and out of hotels with women; some of us actually have serious businesses to run.”

He too, must have read Manhattan’s Rich.

But talk of a poor comeback, Carla thought. Carla raised an eyebrow at her boss’s comment. Really, Adrian? Jackson might be a playboy, but his businesses got him in the news almost as much as his women escapades did. But of course, it wasn’t in her place to say anything, so Carla bit her tongue and remained silent.

Jackson did not bother with a response. All he did was leisurely fold his arms across his chest and stare his brother down. The silent battle lasted for all of forty-five seconds before Adrian succumbed.

“Come in,” he said prickly and checking his watch, added, “this shouldn’t take longer than half an hour. The earlier we’re done, the better.”

“Actually, I think this meeting might take much more than that...” Jackson simply would never allow his brother to have the last word. Hell would freeze over first.

Carla rolled her eyes as both men disappeared into the office and closed the door. Really, men could be such babies. Perfectly sensible men – those two men were – but they only needed to set eyes on each other to lose their sense of reasoning. Sighing, Carla went back to continue working on the proposal she had been typing before Hurricane Jackson walked in.

She could only hope they don’t kill one another before the meeting was over.

****

“Carla, step in here a moment, will you?” the instruction had come over the intercom.

Taking a deep breath, Carla covered the distance separating her glass cubicle and the door in swift strides and stepped into the room. She had 911 on speed dial and a finger rested on the touch screen of her phone already. Each meeting the men had behind Adrian’s closed door, Carla always felt like this – on edge, ready to act because one of both men might end up on the floor with the other above him, breathing heavily and looking remorseful. But her worry was unfounded this time – as with other times too. Though she felt the huge blast of hot air coming off both men, she was most relieved that nobody was hurt, yet.

“You called, Adrian?” she asked, eyeing both men warily.

They were seated on opposite sofas away from the main desk in the office. The tray of coffee that she had brought in a little before Jackson arrived sat on the table before them, but it didn’t look touched at all. She had brought the coffee in a flask, but Adrian must have poured despite knowing his brother wouldn’t take a sip even if he was dying of thirst.

“Yes, I did,” her boss said to her. “Please have a seat.”

Carla tried not to raise a brow at the request. She had attended their meeting only once and that was more than enough; droll curt sentences had made the bulk of the conversation and Carla had almost fallen asleep in her seat. The men had looked ready to tear each other’s clothes at the slightest provocation that it was difficult to tell if they were still talking about business. She had fervently begged Adrian to let her stay out the next time and he had agreed. What was she doing here now?

She looked in Jackson’s direction, but he was staring at Adrian fixedly, as if trying to magically pull something out from him.

“Jackson and I have reached a sort of agreement,” Adrian began. Carla couldn’t help it this time; her brows disappeared into her hairline. The mere thought of the men reaching any sort of agreement gave her chills. “We have decided that you will go work at his branch starting tomorrow.”

Now, where the hell was that coming from? Carla shot up in her seat, staring at her boss in shock. He was looking quite unperturbed, but she wasn’t deceived; there was a muscle ticking away in his jaw.

“Not my branch, big brother, my company,” Jackson spoke up for the first time.

Adrian ignored him as did Carla. “What is this, Adrian? What the hell are you talking about? Surely, you’re joking, of course you are!”

Adrian shook his head firmly. “No, I am afraid not. Contrary to what Jackson might like to think, our companies are still sister companies and we can still exchange staff – at least till we get all the issues with the inheritance sorted out.”

She was privy to the fact that Dame Isabelle Wood had bestowed all of the Wood’s family wealth on her two grandsons. The English princess turned American wife had combined her own wealth along with her only son’s and asked both her grandsons to divvy it up nicely. One of such properties was Heights where she worked and Clegg and Hyde where Jackson ruled. And even though everything Adrian said was quite logical, nothing quite made sense to Carla.

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head in confusion. “Why do I need to go?”

“You should ask Jackson why he wants you so much,” Adrian shrugged.

Jackson? She had thought he was mostly being deliberately provocative to Adrian by asking her to come work for him. Carla turned to find him glaring at his brother for his flippant comment. From that single look, she knew that Adrian had something to gain from the exchange too – even if she didn’t know Jackson Daniels well enough, she knew her boss. The only question left unanswered was why? Why did Jackson want her to work for him, and why did Adrian let her go? She had actually considered herself indispensable to Heights Publishing. Adrian always said he would sink without her. So much for her splendid organization prowess, Carla thought.

Carla sighed inwardly. She wanted to scream at Adrian and shake Jackson. She wanted to slap both men silly and ask them what she had to do with their rivalry and stupid inheritance. But all she did was to take in breath after breath, telling herself to remain calm. She fixed her gaze on Jackson now, expecting him to offer an explanation. At the moment however, he was looking very much like he wanted to strangle Adrian for saying what he did, thus, referring her to him. He opened his mouth a few times but closed it each time. As if deciding that it was not worth it, he sat back in his chair and instead, looked straight into her eyes.

“You’re not going to regret this,” he informed her in a voice that sounded really sincere.

It was a pity she didn’t believe him. She knew she really was going to regret it. Despite her efforts to the contrary, she was the pawn after all – and one of the men had just moved a piece on the chess board.

Splendid!