Page 86 of The Billionaire's Demand

Libby’s jaw dropped. ‘Just like that?’

‘You will likely have to fly to Canberra to expedite matters. Justine will arrange it.’

‘Your assistant?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded once. ‘Is there anything else?’

She shook her head, and she looked so lost, as though she was a little girl, stranded in a storm, that he felt the strangest compulsion to reach out and draw her into a hug, to stroke her back and promise her everything would be okay.

But Raul didn’t really believe in those assurances.

He wanted, more than anything, to make their child’s life perfect, but he wasn’t stupid enough to promise any such thing. Life had a way of pulling the rug out from under you. It was better to brace for that, at all times, than live in a fool’s paradise.

So he simply said, ‘I’ll see to the paperwork. You handle the passport. Deal?’

And, just like that, a week later, Libby was sitting onboard Raul’s private jet, staring at a thick wad of papers, highlighter and pen in hand as though they were her sword and shield.

He’d engaged a law firm to advise her, but Libby wasn’t going to leave things to chance. Trust didn’t come easily for her, and she wasn’t going to be stupid about something as important as her child’s future.

So she sat, legs curled up beneath her on the enormous armchair, carefully reading the prenuptial agreement line by line, annotating where necessary, making notes of any queries she had.

The first few pages dealt expressly with the financial arrangements and custodial expectations. The amount Raul had suggested putting in trust for their child made Libby’s eyes water. She felt a rush of compunction to imagine he thought she had any expectation of him setting aside quite so much. She’d simply meant enough. Enough for their child to never have to worry as she’d always worried. Enough to know they were financially secure, come what may.

Raul had made their unborn baby a multimillionaire even before they’d drawn breath.

By page five, they were onto a matter that made Libby blush for a whole other reason.

Extramarital considerations

She read the stipulations with a pulse that was thready and uneven.

It was everything they’d agreed, and then a little extra. In addition to the requirement that any extramarital relationships be kept completely discreet was the requirement that the spouse would be notified, to avoid potential awkwardness.

Libby couldn’t believe she was actually contemplating signing a document like this. It made a mockery of everything she had ever believed about marriage!

‘Good evening, ma’am.’ A steward approached her, male, with blond hair and a broad smile. His accent was American. ‘Would you care for some refreshments?’

Libby quickly shut the contract, mortified to think he might have seen even a hint of what was written on the page.

‘Um...’ she said, aware of not just the steward but also Raul. Though he sat further down the cabin, and she wasn’t even looking at him, she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was watching.

Her pulse ratcheted up.

‘I can bring you a menu,’ he offered.

‘Okay,’ she agreed, fidgeting with her fingers. ‘Thank you,’ she added, forcing herself to smile.

Morning sickness, as pervasive and never-ending as it had been a few weeks ago, seemed to have given her a temporary reprieve and, if anything, Libby was hungry all the time. She found the cravings to be the strangest thing: she’d gone from enjoying reasonably simple foods to wanting to try things she’d never heard of. Inwardly, she couldn’t help smiling as she imagined her baby’s strong will already in evidence.

She stroked her stomach absentmindedly, staring out of the window at the jet-black sky as the plane cut its way across the globe.

A moment later, the steward was back, handing Libby a menu that was identical in branding to Raul’s business card. She scanned it quickly, bypassing the savoury selection and landing instead on pancakes with bacon and a cup of tea.

‘Won’t take me long,’ the steward said with another charming grin as he disappeared from the cabin.

Libby was not alone for long. Raul strode towards her, and every single one of Libby’s senses went onto high alert as he took the seat opposite her, his long legs spread wide, his body the last word in relaxed athleticism. So why did his proximity have the opposite impact on her?

Every time they went a stretch without seeing one another, she forgot. She forgot how big and strong and masculine he was. How just being near him called to some ancient part of her, making her want to throw caution to the wind, just as she’d done on the boat. She’d put it down to the heat of the moment, the relief and the drama, but what was her excuse now?

---