Pregnant by the Billionaire (Billionaires & Babies Book 3) Read online

  But instead, she forced a bright grin. “I just need to go grab some lunch. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

  And then she just focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

  6

  Donovan kept a close eye on Melissa. She could deny it all she wanted, but he could tell she was hiding something. He lurked around her as much as possible, trying to get a feel for what was wrong.

  He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

  So when she excused herself later that afternoon, Donovan made sure to follow her. But quietly. Secretly.

  He followed her through the house until she left by the front door. He peered at her through the window before letting himself outside, stepping lightly over the driveway as she stormed toward her car. Donovan hung back, spying on her as she pulled out her phone and made a call.

  He couldn’t hear from so far away, so he sidled closer, keeping himself close to the bushes and trees dotting his landscaping. Finally, she spoke.

  “Yes, Dr. Madsen?” Melissa paced a tight path in front of her car, arms crossed as she held the phone up to her ear. “It’s Melissa Hampton. Yes, you were recommended to me by a friend of mine, Anna Martin. She delivered with you about six months back.”

  Delivered with you. Odd choice of words.

  “So I just wanted to know what pills I should take,” Melissa went on. “I’m not super well-versed with prenatals, but I know there are a ton of options out there. Is there a specific brand I should get?”

  Melissa was quiet as the doctor on the other end spoke, leaving Donovan to his thoughts. Delivery. Prenatals. He knew where this was headed. The information almost refused to coalesce, though.

  “Okay, good. And yes, I’d love to come in soon for the initial appointment. I just took the test today, so it’s early. I mean, I missed my period only by a few days, so…”

  Donovan’s mouth parted. Holy fuck. There it was. She was pregnant.

  That explained everything.

  Except—was it his?

  Donovan listened, raking a hand through his hair, as Melissa wrapped up her conversation. By the time she’d hung up, he hadn’t properly prepared to face her. She stalked toward him, eyes widening when she spotted him.

  “Donovan,” she said.

  He couldn’t find any words, which made her eyes narrow.

  “Were you spying on my conversation?”

  “You’re pregnant,” he blurted.

  She huffed, crossing her arms. “I can’t believe you. Why did you spy on me?”

  “I was worried about you,” he said, stepping closer. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I told you I was okay,” she insisted.

  Donovan drew a low breath, prepping himself to ask the question. “Is it mine?”

  Melissa just stared at him, her face devoid of any expression.

  “Melissa,” he prompted.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tapping her foot. Then it tumbled out of her. “Yes.”

  A long, low breath whooshed out of him. Of course there was the standard flurry of emotions—confusion, disbelief, worry.

  But also excitement. A grin curled his lips.

  “Holy shit,” he said.

  She lowered her chin. “You’re not mad? Incredulous? Confused?”

  “No. Well, maybe a little confused.” He took another step closer. “I mean, we did use a condom.”

  “Which apparently broke,” she said. “From your huge penis.”

  “Don’t blame little Donny.”

  She scoffed. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Sometimes. But hey. Listen.” He took the final step closer to her, grabbing the sides of her arms. She tilted her head to look up at him, those big brown eyes sending something warm shuddering through him. “This is awesome news. I’m really excited.”

  Her face softened. “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Melissa yanked her gaze downward. “I’m excited, too. But I’m not expecting you to be like, a daily presence or anything. It was…a mistake. I’m prepared to handle it.”

  “Melly. I’m not gonna abandon my kid.”

  “I’m just saying.” She crossed her arms, rubbing her hands up and down, even though it wasn’t cold out. “I got this.”

  Silence settled between them. They’d figure out the details later. One thing was for certain, though—Donovan wasn’t going to back down just because she wanted to play the mother hero. He was going to give that kid anything and everything it needed.

  But for now? He looked back at his house.

  “We should tell the others,” he said softly. “They should know. They’d be walking into a stepmother situation.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this.” Melissa rubbed her toe in a line on the driveway. “I think I need to defer to Frank. I’m too close to the situation.”

  “And when do you plan on doing that?”

  She gnawed at the inside of her lip, finally looking back up at him. “Either in a few minutes or never. I hadn’t decided yet.”

  He snorted. “Let’s call him. Together. I’ll help.”

  Melissa nodded, getting out her phone. Excitement burbled in his chest as she called Frank on speaker. He answered on the fourth ring.

  “Frank, I have something really big to tell you,” she blurted.

  “Go on…” he urged.

  Melissa faltered, glancing at Donovan. “I’m pregnant. I just found out.”

  “Well, congratulations!”

  “But there’s a potential conflict here.” Melissa paused. “The baby is Donovan’s.”

  A long silence stretched from Frank’s end. And then finally he let out a low hum. “I don’t know if I would call that a conflict as much as a gold mine.”

  Melissa furrowed a brow. “Come again?”

  “We can really work this to the show’s advantage. Can you imagine?” Frank laughed. “Holy shit. If this pregnancy is part of the show, it’ll really add a dramatic twist to the entire concept.”

  Donovan’s stomach sank when he saw Melissa pinch her eyes shut. “I don’t know…” she began.

  “As far as I see it, you have a couple options as the producer on this show,” Frank said. “Either you pony up and get on the show yourself, allowing the pregnancy to form a part of the background story, or you quietly excuse yourself from production. I think the only way the pregnancy is gonna fly is if it’s in the open. You can’t be on the sidelines carrying his kid. It’s not gonna stay quiet. Believe me. You know how rough and tumble the rumor mill is.”

  Melissa pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “Besides, it’s bad juju for the cast. I know we’re scripting entertainment here, but it’s still very off-putting. Holding this pregnancy over their heads, pretending it’s a secret. It’s not going to end well. I’ve seen it happen before.”

  Donovan squeezed her arm then, wanting the contact. For her to know he was there. She nodded, sniffing.

  “Okay. So, I’ll be on the show then,” she said weakly.

  “Great choice, Melissa. You take your time to figure out how to break the news and incorporate this new aspect. I’ll be around if you need me.”

  After she swiped the call off, the two of them stared at each other for a long time.

  “Great,” Donovan finally said.

  “Yeah,” Melissa said, but there was no conviction there. “Just what I always wanted. A televised pregnancy.”

  “Then don’t do it,” he said.

  “I have to, Donovan.” She sent him a mean look, one that told him he had no fucking idea. “Don’t you see? If I want the job, I gotta do it this way.”

  She walked off, that frown returning to her face. Donovan’s fingers twitched with the urge to go after her, but he stayed put. She needed time to figure this out. He would only get in the way.

  7

  Melissa wasn’t sure which was stranger: being in an OB exam room with Donovan, or the two cameramen filming the whole thing.
r />   She drew a deep breath and squeezed the edges of the exam table she sat on. Every inch of her burned with discomfort. This was an intrusion—plain and simple. But it was the best course of action. Because she didn’t have a partner, and she needed her job, so why the hell not sell herself—and her baby—out to the world?

  She rubbed at her face. The hormones weren’t helping the guilt. Or the stress. Or anything, really.

  Donovan rubbed her back. She hated that she couldn’t tell if it was for the cameras or not. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She sniffed, rallying herself to remain positive. She was in control of the production. Which meant she’d make damn sure that this pregnancy stayed in the background of the show. Already they’d filmed Donovan’s surprise announcement about being an expectant father. And she couldn’t deny it was going to be ratings gold. Already the editing team was swirling with teasers and clips that they were preparing to release into the wild. The tight shots of Donovan’s grimacing face, the outrageous shock of the girls, and then the booming announcer voice asking: “What is his secret?”

  It was almost too good. And maybe this, of all things, would seal her bid for the executive producer position.

  “So what do you think we’re having?” Donovan asked.

  She smiled. “A baby?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re real funny, Hampton. I want a boy.”

  “You would.” She sent him a playful look. “Someone else to game with.”

  “I need an heir for my empire,” he commented.

  “And what about my television empire? Who’s going to inherit that?”

  “Guess we’ll just have to make a second one.” Donovan reached for her hand.

  A surprised laugh shot out of her. Looking at the cameramen, she said, “We’re definitely editing that out.”

  “Oh, come on, it was a joke,” he chided.

  But she wasn’t so sure with him. She wasn’t so sure about anything anymore. Donovan was so easy to be around, so light with his words and his smiles and his laughter, that it was easy to take whatever he said at face value. But this was all for show. He was a bachelor addicted to the limelight with throngs of women vying for his attention. He didn’t actually mean a single thing he said. And she needed to stay as far away from the spotlight as possible

  Or else she’d go under.

  “Your future wife won’t like hearing that one bit,” she finally said, trying to keep her tone playful. “And then where will the show be?”

  “Stuck in a drama loop?” he offered. The doorknob turned, and the doctor came in. Donovan straightened, offering his hand like a well-behaved, involved partner should. The doctor didn’t even flinch at the cameras—she’d been briefed beforehand, and besides, this was California. Any doctor of note had been invaded by a camera crew at least once in their career. And if not, then maybe they weren’t worth going to.

  The in-office pregnancy test confirmed what Melissa had discovered two weeks ago. She was pregnant, roughly eight weeks along. Dr. Madsen was an even-tempered older lady who didn’t seem fazed by much and smiled frequently. She answered all of Melissa’s questions about vitamins and physical activity and foods to avoid. She answered questions that had no answer, like did she think it was a boy—Donovan’s question—and questions that made no sense, like if it was safe for Melissa to have sex. Also Donovan’s question.

  There wasn’t much else to do now except wait and grow this baby.

  Outside, once the camera crew had packed up and left and it was just Donovan and Melissa getting into his car, she sighed.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said. “It was nice to have you there. Even if the cameras came along, too.”

  “You don’t like the crew?” He turned the car on. “I’ve come to expect them. I barely even notice them.”

  “Yeah, well, I can tell you’ve been filming a reality TV show, all right,” Melissa grumbled, fastening her seatbelt, making sure it sat low on her belly even though there was no bulge to protect yet. “You were asking the most ridiculous questions in there. You’ve been primed for drama.”

  “What ridiculous questions did I ask?”

  “Um, like whether or not I can have sex?” She scoffed.

  “Well, it’s valid.”

  “You don’t need to worry about my sex life, okay?” She stared out the window as he drove down the palm-lined boulevard. “Whoever I choose to sleep with will be informed of this situation beforehand.”

  Donovan was quiet a moment, the blinker clicking dully as he waited to hang a left. “I meant if we could have sex. I wasn’t talking about other guys.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, come on. You really wanna add a pregnant lady to your line-up back home?”

  He had enough of a line-up, that was for sure. Donovan hadn’t slept with any of the contestants yet—at least not that she’d seen from the footage in the rooms—but it was headed there. It had to. The ratings depended on it. Besides, once sex entered the picture, that was when things really took off for viewers. As it was, this far into filming, Donovan’s lack of shacking up was concerning. He’d made out with all the girls plenty. But it needed to go a step farther. Even if the thought made her already-weak stomach sicker.

  “I’m not really feeling any of them,” he said, shrugging. He leaned back in his seat, a terse sigh escaping him. “I mean, I know it’s the show. Gotta do whatever for the ratings. But…”

  “You’re gonna have to pick at least one of them,” Melissa said, trying not to let his hesitance sink into her. To let it mean something. “That’s what this whole show is about.”

  “I know. I know.” Donovan squeezed the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything more, but tension lined the air. As if he wasn’t quite finished.

  They drove a few more blocks before Donovan heaved a sigh. “Why don’t you just become a contestant?”

  The idea had occurred to her. As her worst nightmare. “I don’t do the spotlight very well.”

  “Why not? You’re in television. There’s gotta be some part of you that just…wants it.”

  Melissa toyed with brushing off his curiosity. She had a reason. One she didn’t share with very many people. “I kinda come from a spotlight family. If you catch my drift. I grew tired of it at a very young age.”

  Donovan nodded. “What kind of spotlight family?”

  Melissa picked at her nails, wondering how much to reveal. Why not just admit it? She trusted him, despite everything. “You ever heard of The Mesmerizing Bellinis?”

  “I think…they were that married couple traveling the country or something? Circus tricks?”

  “Yeah.” Melissa sniffed, watching without really seeing the scenery passing around the car as they headed back to Donovan’s house. “That’s my mom and dad. They’ve been a fixture in Vegas since…God, I don’t even know what year they started there. Before I was born.”

  Donovan looked over at her, a surprised smile creating his face. “Holy shit. You guys are famous.”

  “They are. I only ever worked in the background. I learned real quick I wasn’t suited for the limelight.”

  “Aw, come on. I can see you on a trapeze or a unicycle or something.”

  Melissa smirked. “Hardly. I did one show with them and completely ruined my skit. After that, I swore never again. I only ever helped on the sidelines. Ran their clown college for a couple years, just the production side of it. I’m good at production. That’s what I do. All the rest—forget it.”

  “But reality TV is different.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “It’s worse.”

  Back at the house, she and Donovan walked into a mess in the front hallway. A lamp lay in shards, and loud voices drifted from the living room. They walked in to find three cameras filming an all-out brawl between Jasmine and Tara.

  “Hey,” Donovan barked, immediately leaping into the fray. “Knock it off. What are you doing?”

  He inserted himself into the shoving and hair pulling e
asily, pushing them apart while they glared daggers at each other.

  “This bitch thinks she’s better than the rest of us,” Jasmine spat.

  “I’m just trying to keep it real,” Tara insisted. “If Donovan wants to have anybody’s baby after hers,” a few sets of eyes swung Melissa’s way, “who do you think it’s gonna be? The nice blonde girl? Or the snarky, sleazy brunette who can’t even put away her plates after every. Single. Meal?”

  Jasmine leapt for Tara again, and Melissa sighed, setting her purse down on the table in the hallway, being careful to sidestep the broken lamp.

  “I don’t know what you see in any of them,” Jasmine said, once she’d been pulled off Tara for a second time. Her eyes were wild—clearly she was gunning for a fight. She wandered toward Melissa, hackles raised. “And least of all this one.”

  Melissa stifled a groan. Jasmine was more than playing a part, and this was exactly what Melissa had hired her for. Still, best to not get involved. No reaction. She didn’t want to be a part of the show.

  But Donovan apparently hadn’t gotten the memo. He swiped at Jasmine, tugging her away from Melissa.

  “Don’t you talk about her like that,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. Real surprise moved over Jasmine’s face. And it had to be written all over Melissa’s too.

  A stunned silence shivered through the room. Donovan said more with his tone, his tension, than with his words.

  Donovan released Jasmine and stormed out of the room, brushing past Melissa. She offered a small smile to the girls in the living room, offering a thumbs up.

  “Really great content,” she whispered, then ran off to her office.

  This whole thing was becoming exactly the clusterfuck she feared.

  And it wasn’t just her getting pulled into the muck. It looked like Donovan was right there with her.

  8

  Melissa had just hit ten weeks pregnant when the first three episodes of the show aired to the early screening test audience. She waited with bated breath for the results, hopeful for a hit but not naïve enough to expect it.