Page 78 of The Billionaire's Demand

And now, just when she felt like her life was stabilising, she was looking down the barrel of single parenthood, with no possible support network, no safety net.

Just like her mother had been, she realised with a groan. After all her best endeavours to be different, to make different choices, to live a different life, here she was facing the exact same predicament.

It horrified her.

Libby wrapped her arms around her chest, shivering despite the warmth of the day, then flicked another glance at Raul’s business card.

She was terrified to tell him, terrified not to tell him: she was simply terrified in every way.

New York glittered like a million stars, bright and beautiful, but Raul barely saw it. He’d sworn he’d never take things like this for granted. Not when he was working his ass off to get ahead, not when he was on his way up. But success and wealth were impossible not to become accustomed to, and after almost a decade as a billionaire, nowadays, Raul didn’t tend to see the opulence and rare privilege afforded to him.

The stunning vista was simply a backdrop to the work he was doing, and he had more interest in his computer screen than the Empire State Building.

When his phone began to ring, he was tempted to ignore it, except it was his most private line, the number he gave out only rarely.

If someone was calling him on this number, it was important.

He reached for the receiver, cradling it beneath his chin. ‘Ortega,’ he grunted into the phone, eyes still lingering on the screen.

Outside, it had begun to snow, little drifts of white dancing in front of the window, but he didn’t notice. If he’d moved to the glass and looked all the way down, if he’d been able to see so far beneath him, it would have been to appreciate the looks of wonder on children’s faces, delight all ’round.

‘Hello?’ he prompted, impatient now. He had until midnight to file these documents; he didn’t intend to miss the window.

‘Erm, hi.’ The voice was soft and familiar, even though he couldn’t immediately place it. Yet his body reacted, his gut tightening, something popping in the depths of his belly.

‘Who is this?’ he asked, guarded. Anyone who could make him react so instinctively deserved his wariness.

Silence.

Heavy breathing.

He gripped the phone more tightly, but then there was simply a dial tone.

Whoever it was had hung up.

Now he did stand, jack-knifing out of his chair and striding towards the window, standing with legs wide and hands in his pockets, staring out, not seeing. A sense of unease slipped through him, as though he’d just missed something, or someone, important.

Libby knew she was being a coward, but hearing his voice again had flooded her with such a ball of tension she could hardly think straight, much less speak.

On the day they’d met, she’d been blown away by his sense of command and authority. But those same things had flown down the phone line when she’d called him, and they’d knocked her sideways.

She couldn’t help but feel that she was about to throw a bomb into his life, and all that natural authority would be turned on her. She needed to form a more definitive plan first, so that when she did tell him about the baby, and he asked what she wanted to do, she could respond with a degree of certainty.

It was in the small hours of the morning that the answer came to him.

Strangely, it wasn’t so much her voice as the husky little breaths she’d exhaled into the phone line. They’d been familiar in a primal way, triggering a sense memory that had lain dormant for months. But once back in the privacy of his home, naked in his bed, he remembered, and a hot flash spread through his body as every cell reverberated with surprise. Surprise at the pleasure he’d felt at hearing her voice, at the knowledge that she’d called him after all.

And then concern. Because if she was calling him, surely it meant something was wrong.

When he reflected on the details of the day, contemplated how traumatic it must have been for Libby, he knew he needed to make sure she was okay. He should have done so before now, he realised with a sense of shame, only he’d never taken her phone number, he’d simply given her his.

And she’d used it.

No longer tired, despite the fact he’d been up since early the previous morning, he pushed back the sheet and began to make plans, setting things in motion so that he could assure himself Libby hadn’t suffered as a result of that day...

So the morning sickness wasn’t just for mornings, Libby thought with a shake of her head as she gingerly straightened and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Having battled nausea all day, finding her appetite almost non-existent, she’d forced herself to eat a piece of Vegemite toast when she got home from work, simply because she figured she had to have something for the sake of the baby, but it hadn’t settled her tummy as she’d hoped.

Quite the opposite.

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