The Billionaire’s Pregnant Employee (Preston Brothers Book 3) Read online

  “I don’t want to have to ask for help for every little thing.” Her throat felt tight and achy, and a warmth filled her from the very top of her head to the tips of her toes, skimming over the belly where she could feel her girls kicking and performing a slow-motion dance battle for space. “Don’t—don’t do that.” The last words came out as a whisper, and Archer took her hand.

  She should pull away—she knew it. It was one thing to live in Archer’s house and sleep in his big guest bed. It was one thing to sleep with him. But it was another thing entirely to curl her fingers toward him, her entire soul sighing at his touch.

  “Don’t do what?”

  Claire brushed briskly at the corner of her eye and flicked a tear from her fingertip. A tear. She’d put herself through college on the other side of the country from her mother, and now she was dissolving into tears over Archer being kind to her. Being pregnant was something else. “Be...like that.”

  He cracked a wide smile and brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “A complete gentleman? Is that what you mean?” Archer dropped her hand and went to load up his arms with hiking gear. “A strong gentleman?” He flexed his muscles under the pile of gear. There was a hint of concern in his eyes, but he kept up the joke, and Claire found herself laughing anyway.

  “You could stand to be less of a gentleman,” she said as he went out. “It’s too much when you’re like this.”

  But he was already down the hall. She put a hand to her chest, feeling the beat of her heart through her palm. It was just the hormones, the heat rushing over her skin. That was all.

  Archer made six more trips. He heaped his arms higher and higher with gear until there was nothing left in the nursery. Claire followed him out for the last trip, her feet aching. Wow, she was getting out of shape. Being sick, it turned out, wasn’t the best for her general fitness. “You know, putting this all down the hallway isn’t better.”

  “Isn’t it?” Archer pushed a bedroll up against the wall and brushed his hands together. “It’s by my bedroom, anyway. You won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Well, all right then.” She crossed her arms over her bump and let them rest there. It was true—she didn’t sleep in his bedroom. But she’d thought about it plenty of times. Every breath she took was filled with him. She’d been so mad, and now, watching him lean over the furniture pieces...

  He glanced up at her, his blue eyes catching a bit of the light from the window. “You don’t have to stay here and watch.” He flexed his bicep. “But I can tell you want to.”

  “I do,” she admitted, the words flying out before she could stop them. “But I don’t know if it’s worth standing up for.” Good save. “My feet hurt.”

  “Then let’s get this glider set up. Here.” He tossed one of the glider’s cushions at her feet. “Sit down and watch the show.”

  She watched as he set up the glider, the tools flashing in his hands. “Come try it out.”

  Claire picked up the cushion, put the last piece in place, and settled in. “Oh,” she groaned. “It’s so nice.”

  “Good.” There was that smile again. “Now watch me put together this bookcase.”

  “Bookcase before crib?”

  “I got some books at the bookstore down the street from the office today.”

  “You got books?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” Archer flipped the pieces of the bookshelf into place and started hammering in the pegs. “I can read, you know.”

  “I thought you normally read business books. And...you know, reports from work.”

  “Now I do, but when I was a kid, I read for pleasure.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “My favorite was Frog and Toad Are Friends. They had an anniversary copy in the store window.”

  Claire could almost feel the thick paper beneath her fingers. “We had that book, too.”

  Archer’s face lit up. “I took it everywhere with me for a while. My dad used to take me on these hiking and fishing trips.” His smile got even wider. He pinned the back of the bookshelf on and stood it up against the wall. “After we were done, he’d read the stories to me in the cabin.” He nodded, almost to himself. “Those were some good memories. I’d love to do something similar with the girls.”

  “Take them fishing and read Frog and Toad Are Friends?” She found herself blushing, hot under the collar. “It sounds nice.”

  “You know what?” Archer took out his phone and knelt beside her. “I was thinking about fishing poles.”

  “You need new fishing poles?”

  “For the girls.” He brought up a page on his phone. “Do you like these?”

  They were miniature things, each with its own blue stripe. Claire laughed. “I don’t know anything about fishing poles. But they look nice. They look like something the girls would like. Eventually.” She patted her belly, and one of them kicked, a featherlight movement.

  “Ordered.” Archer grinned down at his phone, then back at her. “I can’t wait for them to get here.”

  “The girls or the fishing poles?”

  “Both.” He put his palm on her belly, and the connection between them shot through her, pure and strong. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft.

  “For what?”

  “For letting me in,” he said simply. “For letting me help you.” Archer’s eyes met hers, caught them, held them. “I know that’s not easy.”

  Claire swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. As much as I wanted to.” She breathed in deep. “Thank you.”

  Archer’s phone rang.

  The moment broke apart. He got to his feet and answered the phone, and Claire went back to the smooth movement of the glider.

  “Yes,” he said into the phone. “I want the family suite. Yes—yes. Thanks.” He put the phone back in his pocket and stretched. “Break for dinner before I do the cribs?”

  Claire tossed him a little smile. “Sure. What family suite?” She tried and failed to keep the heat out of her face.

  “Oh—” Archer had found great interest in the corner of the bookshelf. “The Japan trip. I’m taking one of my buddies along, and the traditional ryokan rooms aren’t big enough.” He dragged his gaze back to hers, utterly sheepish. “So I wanted to book the family suite.”

  Pain like he’d kicked her in the teeth surged through her. Claire stood up too fast, nausea surging. “Right, right. Dinner.” She headed out to the hall, her body feeling heavy on her bones, her heart heavy in her chest.

  “Hey.” Archer caught up with her. “Are you all right?”

  “Tired,” she bit out. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  “Dinner in bed it is.” Archer sounded worried, but he was clearly trying to hide it. “What can I bring? Toast for a starter course?”

  “I’m fine.” She turned the corner into her room and stood in the doorway, arm braced on the doorframe. “I need a few minutes.” Claire put on the biggest smile she could manage and shut the door behind her.

  The bed was a comfortable nest of sheets and blankets and she sank into it, mind racing. For all his talk about childhood stories and fishing poles, Archer wasn’t going to put his family first. There wouldn’t be any room for her in his life. She should never have accepted so much of his hospitality.

  Claire turned over, pressing her hand to her chest. She pulled the blankets tight across her shoulders.

  She shouldn’t have moved in with him. And now she was too sick and too tired to move back out, at least for the near future. Oh, it had been such a mistake.

  But most of all, she shouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

  11

  “Thank you so much for coming.” Claire didn’t feel awkward at all holding her newly hired midwife’s hands. “I feel so much better about...everything.”

  Bristol, the midwife and doula Claire had found through her doctor’s office, wore a forest-green dress over her curves and had kind eyes that made Claire want to rest her head on Bristol’s shoulder
and cry. But she’d already done that once in this first meeting. Enough crying.

  “I’m thrilled that you got in touch,” said Bristol. “We’re going to do this together. You call me with any questions you have, or if you need to talk—anything. I’m here for you.”

  “And the doctors—”

  “I’ll coordinate with your doctors however you want me to.”

  They had met for almost two hours, going over how Claire wanted to approach the birth. It was tricky. Carrying twins came with more risks, but Claire hadn’t felt overwhelmed when Bristol laid them out. They’d come to a decision together.

  “Good. Great.” She gave Bristol’s hands one last squeeze and let go. “I’ll text you.”

  Bristol took a deep breath, almost like she was encouraging Claire to do the same. “Talk soon.” Then she breezed out the door of the bedroom. Bristol got it. She’d come up to Claire’s room for the visit, and Claire hadn’t even had to get out of bed. She had gotten out of bed so that they could sit together by the window, but Bristol had assured her it wasn’t required. Not in the least. It all depended on how she felt.

  Such a relief, since Claire felt like the world had gone off its axis.

  Her phone pinged a minute later with the alert from the front-door security system, letting her know Bristol had left the house. Archer had replaced his previous security system with one that had a camera and phone alerts. She hit the switch to lock the door and put her head back on the pillow. Pregnancy was supposed to get easier as time went on, wasn’t it? Every baby website she’d read said the second trimester was the best time. She’d have her energy back and be able to get things done in preparation for the babies’ arrival.

  Ha ha.

  She’d just started to drift off when her phone pinged. Claire snatched it up. Maybe Bristol had come back and they could keep chatting. The conversation had been so easy and natural, and none of it had been fraught with a massive crush...

  But it wasn’t Bristol’s face on the tiny screen. It was Collette.

  Run, run, run. Claire fought the urge to pull the blankets up over her head and pretend she wasn’t home. But then...Archer would find out, wouldn’t he? His mother would say that she’d stopped by, but no one had answered. And he’d already gone to bat for her once. If she really needed something...

  Claire threw the blankets off with a grumble and hurried down the hall. Deep breaths.

  She put a smile on before she opened the heavy front door. “Hi, Collette—oh.” It wasn’t just Collette standing outside. She’d been standing so close to the camera that she’d blocked out an entire other person. A middle-aged man with hair mostly gone silver tapped his foot on the front porch.

  “Claire.” Collette pushed past Claire as if the house belonged to her. The hairs on the backs of Claire’s arms jumped toward the ceiling. “This is Dr. Portmead.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Claire said quickly, slipping into the formality she used with translation clients.

  Dr. Portmead shook her hand without quite meeting her eyes. “Yes, thank you.” He stepped inside the house and followed Collette through to the living room at the front of the main floor.

  Claire blinked, discomfort making her shoulders tight and the back of her neck heat. “Hi, Collette. What can I do for you? Oh, sure, I’m free to talk,” she muttered under her breath. Then she pressed her lips tightly together. Better for everybody if she kept her mouth shut for this bizarre visit. Was Dr. Portmead Collette’s doctor? This was...beyond.

  She slipped her phone from her pocket and tapped out a quick text.

  “Hey. Your mom stopped by with a doctor. Any idea what that’s about?”

  Archer was probably in a meeting somewhere on the other side of the country. This week’s travel was at a very opportune time, wasn’t it? She bristled at the thought of him ignoring her message. No—that was premature.

  “Claire? We’re in the sitting room,” called Collette.

  She ground her teeth together. It had been a very long time since Claire had been summoned anywhere inside her own home. She hadn’t lived with her own mother in years. But she went to the sitting room anyway and lowered herself slowly into a wing chair. She folded her hands over her belly and put on a patient smile. Think of them as a couple of difficult clients. Easy. “What can I do for you, Collette?”

  Collette returned her smile, but Claire saw her eyes flick up and down her body, assessing her. “I’ve hired Dr. Portmead to take over your care.”

  All the air in Claire’s lungs left her with a whoosh. For a moment, all she could hear was her own pulse. “Excuse me?”

  “Dr. Portmead is the best obstetrician in the city. It’s just not enough to work with the regular hospital staff. I know you’ve been seeing Dr. Lindstrom, but—” Collette shook her head, wrinkling her nose.

  “But what?”

  “Well, she’s not a private provider, like Dr. Portmead. She’s at the beck and call of anyone who walks in the door.”

  “That’s right.” Dr. Portmead looked up from his phone. “At my practice, we don’t accept insurance. We only work with select clients of a certain caliber.” He exchanged a smile with Collette. “You won’t have to worry about ending up with the OB on call at the hospital. You’ll have access to me.”

  Claire’s skin crawled. Maybe he was a good obstetrician, but what on earth was he doing visiting someone else’s home at the request of her—her—she didn’t know what Collette was to her. Not her mother-in-law. Something worse.

  She looked Collette in the eye. “Thank you so much for coming, but I’m happy with my medical team.”

  Collette clicked her tongue. “I knew Archer wasn’t managing this very well. He’s too focused on the business. This can’t be left to chance. It’s not the kind of decision you want to be making on the fly when you’re already in labor.”

  “I—” She was going to unleash her thoughts on Collette. Claire had gotten out of bed for this. She’d come downstairs for this. “I’m not having any trouble making decisions about the birth.” She knew her voice had gone razor sharp. She didn’t care. “And frankly—” Her next sentence was cut off by the buzz of her phone in her pocket. “Excuse me.”

  Claire left the sitting room as fast as she could, feeling every sway of her belly in front of her. It was bigger every day. And every day, the realities of life with Archer hit her harder. And if they couldn’t truly make a life together, she shouldn’t have to let his family into her private business.

  The phone had popped another alert from the front door. It was none other than Penny, Drew’s wife.

  “You have to be kidding me,” Claire said to her phone.

  “Claire?” called Collette.

  Claire wrenched open the front door, not bothering to put a smile on this time. “Archer’s not here,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s all right.” Penny stepped into the house, right past Claire. “I came to talk to you, actually, because I have half a shower planned, and—”

  “Penny?” Collette stepped out from the sitting room, beaming. “What a coincidence. Are you here about the shower?”

  Claire’s jaw felt frozen shut. She forced the words out anyway. “What shower?”

  “The baby shower,” Collette said dismissively. “We thought Archer would want to be included, of course. What questions did you have, Penny?”

  Penny bit her lip, her expression apologetic. Claire didn’t want it. She didn’t want any of this. People barging into the house. People hiring doctors for her. Nobody had even asked her if she wanted a baby shower, much less a baby shower with Archer. Was she supposed to sit there, pretending she wasn’t in love with him, while everybody gave them gifts and treated them as a happy couple?

  “I’m sorry,” mouthed Penny, and then she turned back to Collette. A bit of the hard knot at the back of Claire’s neck loosened. Penny was on her side, at least a little. “I had a couple of things to ask you about the catering,” she started, and then her voice fad
ed away.

  Even if she was on her side...it just wasn’t enough.

  While Penny leaned in to talk to Collette, Claire took the stairs to the second floor. What did she really, truly need? Her phone and charger. Her purse. Some of the maternity clothes. Archer had bought most of them, and she felt a pang when she opened the dresser drawer...but what else was she going to do? She had to have some things to get through the rest of the day, and probably the night. There was no way she’d have time to shop this evening. Leaving Archer was going to wipe her out.

  She packed three outfits into a small duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder.

  Collette and Penny were still in the foyer talking when she came back downstairs. Dr. Portmead stepped out of the sitting room as Claire took the final step down.

  Penny cocked her head to the side, looking at her over Collette’s shoulder. “Oh, no. You have an appointment.”

  “No, I don’t.” The truth surged upward, feeling as unsettlingly cold as the nausea did. “I don’t have an appointment. I’m leaving.”

  Collette whipped her head around, gaze suspicious. “Leaving for where? Did you schedule a trip? Are you meeting Archer?”

  “I’m leaving.” An exhaustion settled around Claire’s shoulders like a heavy cape. “I’ll be in touch with him when I know where I’m staying.”

  Collette’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that. You’re pregnant with twins. Dr. Portmead, tell her—”

  “Don’t tell me anything,” Claire said. “Talk amongst yourselves.”

  And she went out the front door.

  “It’s not much,” said Rebecca. “We were going to do more renovations sooner, but it’s tough with Henry. It’s like he senses when we’re trying to work on other things and wakes up or needs to play at the park.” She gave a little laugh, but Claire could see her watching her out of the corner of her eye. “I thought you might like your own place, but if you’d rather stay in the guest room—”