Page 87 of The Billionaire's Baby

On the other hand, I had given the alphahole steering this vessel too much credit, and for all the wrong things. For some reason, I’d thought that behind that callous exterior of his, beats a heart that is much more sensitive. Surely, those little glimpses of affection he’d shown me, that tenderness and caring that he sometimes revealed… There’s more of that where it came from, right?

I bite into the sandwich that he’d handed over to me, along with the bottle of orange juice that he’d carried with him. When I’d refused to take it, he’d simply reminded me to think of the possible life I may carry.

I flatten my palm to my stomach. Bloody hell, I couldn’t be pregnant, could I? I don’t feel any different, but then, how is one supposed to feel in the days following conception?

And if I am? What then? Would the sham marriage we are pursuing turn out to be real? Why the hell does he still want to go through with it, anyway?

I stare at the man who stands on the deck. He’s wearing his jacket and boots, with a cap perched on his unruly hair. He steers the boat with a firm hand… Just as he had pulled me up the cliff-side without hesitation. And those terms of endearment he had used after that? No, I hadn’t imagined that. He feels something for me, but he is fighting it. What is it that holds him back from sharing the real reason for his bad mood, anyway?

I walk up the steps from the cabin and onto the deck. As I draw abreast of him, I smooth my hands down my jeans… A pair borrowed from him which, despite having been cinched in at the waist with a piece of rope that he’d loaned me, is perched precariously low on my hips. I also had to roll up the legs to almost half the normal length. And the shirt is so big, it swallows me. I’m not fit for company. When I’d told him, he’d said that his family wouldn’t care.

Men. Honestly. No way, am I going anywhere without the proper attire.

When I’d insisted, he’d relented. He’d said that we would stop at a shop on the way to his family's place, where I could pick up some new clothes.

That’s something, I suppose. A minor victory, but still, he’d ceded to me. One step at a time.

I stop next to him, peer through the windshield at the stretch of water ahead of us. "How much longer?" I ask.

"We should be docking in half an hour," he replies.

"Does your family know that we are coming?"

"They know thatIam coming."

"Of course." I snort. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"Anytime." His lips twist. "You don’t have to worry yourself about the visit."

"Yeah, it’s only every day that I go to meet the family of my fake husband, soon to be my real husband—which would make them my fake-real to-be in-laws, so yeah, and by the way, I could already be pregnant with his child…or not..."

I draw in a breath, and he chuckles. "That’s some twisted shit, right there, you’ve got yourself into, Sparks."

"You’re telling me." I turn to him, when my phone begins to ping with incoming messages. Guess we are back within reach of the non-satellite networks then?

Not that he’d have refused to let me use the satellite phone if I’d asked. Except, that would have meant that he’d listen in on my conversations, which is not what I wanted.

"Umm, I need to make a call," I venture.

"Not stopping you," he replies, his voice preoccupied.

"I’m going to step out."

"Suit yourself." He turns to fiddle with the dials on his dash.

Jerk, could’ve pretended that he wanted my company for a little longer, right?

I flounce out and back into the bedroom on the far end of the boat, then close the door and lock it behind me for good measure.

I call up Samuel, my right-hand person, who confirms to me that everything is fine. Clients are all happy, there’s nothing pending, no fires to put out, or if there were, they’ve already been resolved. Huh? So, guess I wasn’t missed at all? A heavy feeling invades my stomach. Yeah, this is what I’ve been dedicating my days and nights to; for building my business and my team. Apparently, I‘ve done a thorough job of it, because my company can run itself without my direct involvement for a few days. I draw in a breath. No one is indispensable; I know that. But this is my enterprise; so, you’d think things could have, at least, collapsed alittlewhen I wasn’t there to directly steer things along, right?

I bite the inside of my cheek. Now, I am being childish. It’s a good thing that my business is on track. When I have kids, if I need to work remotely or go part-time for a while, it means I'll be able to do that without the work suffering. I bid him goodbye and hang up before he can ask me about my holiday—or lack thereof.

Then I dial Isla’s number.

"Heyyy youuu!" She comes on the line breathless, "Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you, but I kept getting an out-of-range message."

"That’s because I was."