Page 90 of Playboy Billionaire

She’d felt exposed with Griffin; he’d somehow penetrated her carefully erected walls. She’d let him in and was now paying the price. But was the answer to wall herself back in again? Had she learned nothing? It had felt warm and good and true to let her guard down with him.

Rather than feeling confined by the relationship, she’d felt free. Fully alive for maybe the first time in her life. That’s why she’d been so shocked and disappointed by his response to her confessions. She’d overcome such a personal hurdle to confide in him, and then to have him hold back, well, it had been devastating.

A sudden jolt went through her body as it dawned on her just how big a part fear had influenced her actions…the fear that their budding relationship couldn’t endure the pressures of fame, fear that she was too much, that she was unlovable, but the most troubling was her fear that he’d leave her. Her belief that men couldn’t be trusted and that they’d inevitably abandon her, had helped create the very reality she’d been avoiding. Had he abandoned her? His reaction had been honest and heartfelt, he’d just expressed it out loud at her most vulnerable moment, but that was hardly a crime.

Penelope transitioned from a canter to a walk and Raven snorted out her nose.

The thing now keeping her awake at night was that she was three weeks late with her period. She’d been blaming it on stress, but she had to face facts, she could be pregnant. Then what? She knew she’d have it but…did Griffin need to know, or would he even want to know? She understood all too well that a person couldn’t change overnight. He’d said point blank that he didn’t want to be needed. Being a dad was certainly about as needed as you could get.

She unconsciously put her hand on her belly and held it there.A baby. Her chest ached, a burst of pure joy, quickly chased by fear. She didn’t think she could survive losing another baby. But…like it or not, if she was pregnant, she was committed to seeing it through.

She’d ask Walt to drive her to town in the morning to pick up a test. If she was pregnant, she’d call Griffin. It was up to him how much or how little he wanted to be involved, but he had a right to know.

The following afternoon, Penelope stared at the thick line on the test stick not knowing whether to laugh or cry. She managed to fit both in. Archie tilted his head sizing up his mistresses’ mood.

“Mama’s okay. We’re going to have a baby to take care of Archie.” He lowered his head onto his paws, brow wrinkled.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be replaced.”

Before she lost her nerve, she punched in Griffin’s number and braced herself to give him her prepared speech. When she reached his voice mail she was thrown off; she hadn’t anticipated that one.

“Um…this is Penelope, can you call me when you get a chance? You’ve got my number.”

Her hands shook as she disconnected. Now all she could do was wait.

* * *

Griffin woke up with a slight hangover. He’d indulged in a little too much red wine last night. Since arriving in Saint-Tropez, he’d been burning the candle at both ends. If he could manage to drag himself out of bed, he’d walk to town and get an espresso and a cream-filled brioche to eat by the beach.

There was a knock on his bedroom door and Amelie popped her head in to see if he was awake yet.Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He’d insisted she sleep over since she’d been drinking, but much to her disappointment, he’d not invited her to share his bed.

“Cheri, es-tu réveillé?”

“Barely,” he said as he stretched, yawning loudly, then crawled naked out of bed.

“Homme sexy.”

“I feel like roadkill.”

“Je ne comprends pas.”

“Roadkill means…Ce n’est rein!”Forget it. His head hurt too bad to explain.“Retrouvez-moi dans le salon.”He closed the bathroom door behind him. He’d meet her in the salon after he showered, shaved and downed a couple of aspirin.

After showering, he toweled off then dressed, grabbing his cell phone on the way out. He saw that he’d missed a call that had come in around one in the morning. He’d been passed out by then. His heart skittered when he saw the number.Penelope.

If she’d called from Montana, with the eight-hour difference, it’d be around seven p.m. there now. He listened to her message three times. She sounded casual. Not much to go on.Call me. Something about the film maybe?

He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face. Why now? He’d have to think about it. He was here to forget. She could have been a little more informative. At any rate, he wasn’t ready to call her back…if he even did return the call. At this point, what was the point?

Amelie was waiting for him in the salon and they left together. As they walked the cobbled streets of the old fishing village, all he could think was that he wished it were Penelope beside him. She would love it here. He had to snap out of it, or he’d drive himself crazy. She wasn’t here, her choice, and the beautiful Amelie was. The aspirins were finally kicking in, thank you Jesus. He was going to forget about that call for now and seize the day. Carpe fucking diem.

43

Penelope didn’t know what she’d expected, but she was heartbroken that Griffin hadn’t bothered to return her call. It had been a week. If he was going to call, he would have by now. At least she’d given him a chance. A nagging voice in the back of her mind told her that she was copping out, but she ignored it. She could almost convince herself that she was relieved…almost but not quite.

* * *

“My son will say grace,” Josie said. They were gathered in the dining room, around Penelope’s massive oak table. Josie’s two adult sons and their wives had come. She only had one grandchild, a three-year-old named Angelica, and she sat in her booster seat between Josie and her daughter-in-law Ana. Her niece Malena, who had just moved here from California was also there.

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