Expecting The Billionaire's Baby

Two

“Welcome, Miss Morgan. Please have a seat.”

Cecelia took two steps into the boardroom and stopped short as she recognized the man’s voice. She looked up and found herself staring into the green-and-gold eyes of her past. She couldn’t take a single step farther. Her heart stuttered as her mind raced to make sense of what she was seeing. It wasn’t possible that Deacon Chase, her first love, was sitting at the head of the boardroom table beside Shane Delgado.

Deacon had disappeared from Royal almost immediately after they graduated from high school. No one in town had seen or heard a word from him since then. She remembered being told that his parents had moved to Florida, and she had occasionally wondered what he had made of himself, but she hadn’t had the heart to look him up and find out. She knew that it was best to keep Deacon a part of her past, and yet here he was, a critical element to the success of her future.

Cecelia realized she was standing awkwardly at the entrance to the conference room with the entire board of directors staring at her. She snapped out of it, pasting a wide smile on her face and walking to the front of the room where an empty seat was waiting for her. Beside him.

“Thank you, everyone, for having me here today. I’m very pleased to have the opportunity to present my designs for The Bellamy Hotel to the board. I’m really in love with what I have put together for you all today, and I hope it meets your expectations.”

Deacon’s cold gaze followed her around the room to where she had taken her seat, but she tried not to let it get to her. The man had every reason to hate her, so she shouldn’t expect anything less.

She knew that Shane had a silent partner in The Bellamy project, but she’d never dreamed that it would be Deacon. She had a hard time believing it was even Deacon sitting there, considering how much he’d changed since she saw him last.

His lanky teenaged body had grown into itself, with broad shoulders and muscular arms that strained against the fabric of his expensively tailored navy suit. His jaw was more square and hardened now, as though he was trying to hold in the venomous words he had for her. The lines etched around his eyes and into his furrowed brow made it look like he didn’t smile much anymore.

That made Cecelia sad. The Deacon she remembered had been full of life, despite the miserable hand that he had been dealt as a child. Back in high school, he’d had so much potential in him, Cecelia just couldn’t wait to see what he was going to do with his future.

Now she knew. It appeared as though Deacon had done extremely well for himself. He had gone from the kid working in the cafeteria to the man who held her future in his hands.

Opening her portfolio, she sorted through her papers and prepared to give the presentation she had practiced repeatedly since Shane had called and offered her a chance to bid on the job. She pulled out several watercolor renderings of the designs, placing them on the easel behind her. Then, taking a deep breath and looking at everyone but Deacon, Cecelia began her presentation.

It was easy for her to get lost in the details of her plan for the hotel. Discussing fabric choices, wooden furnishing pieces, style and design was what she knew best. She had a very distinct point of view that she wanted to express for The Bellamy to separate it from all the other high-class resorts in the Houston area.

Judging by the smiles and nods of the people sitting around the conference room table, she had hit it out of the park. The only person who looked less than impressed, of course, was Deacon. His eyes still focused on her like lasers, but his expression was unreadable.

“Does anyone have any questions?” She looked around the room, ready to field any of the board’s concerns. No one spoke up.

Shane finally stood up and walked around the table to shake Cecelia’s hand. “Thank you so much, Cecelia,” he said with an oddly relieved smile on his face. “I admit I was reluctant to believe you were the right designer for the job, but I must say I’m very impressed. You’ve done a great job. You’re the last to present your designs, so we will have to discuss your proposal, and then we will get back to you about contracts. If we decide to go with Luna Fine Furnishings, how long do you think it will be before you can start work on the hotel?”

Her heart was pounding, but whether it was from Shane’s question or Deacon being mere inches away, she couldn’t say. “I have already started putting the major furniture pieces into production at my manufacturing facility,” Cecelia said. Several of the designs were tweaks of her existing furniture, and it was easy to get them started. “I also put in an order for the fabric, and it should arrive tomorrow. I took the risk, hoping that you would accept my proposal. If you don’t like what I’ve done, I’m going to have to find a new home for about two hundred and fifty dressers.”

The people around the table chuckled. Shane just smiled. “A risk-taker. I like it. Well, hopefully we will find a good home for all those dressers. We hope to open the resort by the end of the month. Do you think you can make that happen?”

By the end of the month? Cecelia’s stomach started to ache with dread. Even with construction complete, that was an extremely tight schedule. Two hundred and fifty suites in a month! Although she was expecting the fabric for the curtains and upholstered chairs, it would still take time to make the pieces. She wasn’t about to say no, however. She could sleep when April was over. “Absolutely. We may have to have our craftsmen working around the clock to get all the pieces together and the wallpaper on the walls, but I think we can make it happen.”

Cecelia tried to keep her focus on Shane, but Deacon’s appraising gaze kept drawing her attention away. He still wasn’t smiling like everyone else. But he wasn’t glaring at her angrily anymore, either. Now he was just watching. Thinking, processing. She had no idea what was going on inside Deacon’s brain because he hadn’t spoken since he welcomed her into the room. Part of her wished she knew. Part of her didn’t.

“That all sounds great. If you will give us just a few minutes, we’re going to meet and will be right with you. Would you mind waiting in the lobby?”

“Not at all.” Cecelia gathered her things up into her portfolio and, with a smile, stepped out of the room. The moment she shut the door behind her she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Somehow, having that wall between her and Deacon seemed to make a difference. Thankfully, his laser-like vision couldn’t reach her through the drywall and the expensive wallpaper of Shane’s offices.

No question, he had rattled her. He’d probably intended to. After everything she’d done to Deacon, she deserved it. For the first time, she started to doubt that she would land this job. Yes, Shane had personally approached her about it, but perhaps Deacon had agreed to it just so he could have the opportunity to reject her the way she’d rejected him all those years ago.

She poured herself a glass of water at the nearby beverage station and took a seat, waiting anxiously for their decision. She was surprised they were moving so quickly, but if they needed the hotel done by the end of the month, there really wasn’t a choice. She was the last designer to present her ideas, so the time to decide was here.

About ten minutes later, the door opened and a flow of board members exited the room. Cecelia waited patiently until her name was called and then stepped back into the conference room. The only person left in there was Deacon. She struggled to maintain her professional composure as she waited for him to finally speak to her. Now that they were alone, she was expecting him to lay into her about why she didn’t deserve the job.

Instead, he smiled politely and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “I won’t prolong the torture, Ms. Morgan. The bottom line is that everyone is very pleased with your designs and the direction that you’d like to take for The Bellamy. Shane has gone upstairs to have our contracts department write up something, and we will have it couriered over to your offices as soon as it’s ready. Presuming, of course, that you will accept the job.”

She’d be crazy not to. The budget that Shane had discussed with her was more than enough to cover materials and labor expenses and provide a tidy profit for her to add to her company’s bottom line. She and her team would be working hard to earn it, but the very future of Luna Fine Furnishings was riding on the success of this project. No simply wasn’t an option. She didn’t want to seem too eager, however, especially where Deacon was concerned. “I’m happy to hear that you’re pleased. I look forward to reviewing the contracts and touching base with you and Shane.”

He nodded. “I understand the schedule is a bit hectic. The ground floor of the hotel has a business suite with several offices available for future hotel management. We’re happy to offer you an on-site office location to help you better manage your team and their progress.”

That would help. Especially if there was a cot in it where she could sleep. Perhaps she could finish a room so she could stay in it. “That would be lovely, thank you.” She hesitated a moment before she spoke again. “May I ask you something?”

Deacon raised his brow in curiosity. “Of course.”

She knew she should take the offer and run, but she wanted to know why they’d chosen her. Why he’d chosen her. “I am very grateful for this opportunity, but I’m curious as to why you chose to go with me instead of an established design firm. I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve specialized in nursery and children’s furnishings for the last few years. This is my first foray in adult luxury design.”

Deacon nodded and thought over his response. “Shane and I requested your proposal because we knew the quality would be high. To the Moon is known for producing the best you can buy for a child’s room. There’s no reason for us to believe it would be any different with your adult designs. You’re the best at whatever you choose to do, Cecelia. You always were.”

There was a flicker of pain in his eyes as he spoke, but it was quickly masked by the return of his cold indifference to her. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, before turning and marching quickly from the conference room.

Cecelia was left standing there, a little shell-shocked from their encounter. He said she was the best at what she did, but she could read between the lines—except when it came to us. She excelled in business but was a miserable failure when it came to love.

Deacon might be willing to hire her to do a job she was well capable of, but it was clear that he wasn’t about to forgive her for what she’d done to him.

* * *

Deacon had made a mistake.

The minute Cecelia had strolled into that conference room, it had felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He’d tried to maintain the appearance of the confident, arrogant businessman, but on the inside he felt anything but. His chest was constricted, and he couldn’t breathe. His heart was racing like he was in the middle of a marathon. He had thought he would be immune to her after all this time, but he was wrong.

Cecelia had been wearing a smart, tailored ivory-and-gold suit that accented every curve of her womanly figure. That certainly wasn’t the body he remembered. She was still petite, but she had grown up quite a bit since he saw her last. He was still attempting to recover from the tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage at the V of her blouse when she smiled at him and flipped her long blond curls casually over her shoulder.

Instantly, he knew he was lost.

What the hell was he thinking coming back here? And an even better question, why had he insisted that Shane give Cecelia the opportunity to compete for the design job? He had all but guaranteed that he would come face-to-face with her like this. It was a terrible idea.

Cecelia had begun her presentation talking about fabrics and furniture details he really didn’t give a damn about. He’d hardly heard a word she said. His mind was clouded with the scent of her perfume, reminding him of hot nights in the back of his pickup truck. It was the same scent she’d worn in high school. He’d had to save up for two months to be able to afford a bottle of it for her birthday.

Now all he could think about was her naked, willing body sprawled out beneath his own, his nose buried in her throat, drawing her scent deep into his lungs. They had dated for only six months during their senior year, but they had been some of the best months of his life. Deacon hadn’t been sure what he was going to do with his life or if he was ever going to make something of himself, but he instantly knew that he wanted Cecelia to be a part of his future. He couldn’t remember how many times they’d made love, but he knew it hadn’t been enough.

Looking at her during the presentation, as she’d gestured toward a watercolor rendering of a guest suite, all he could see was the younger Cecelia sitting on his tailgate smiling at him.

Suddenly, every muscle in his body had tensed, every nerve firing sparks of need through him. Occasionally, Cecelia’s gaze would flick over him and his throat threatened to close. He’d gripped the arm of his executive chair, trying to ground himself and calm down. It had been no way to act during a professional board meeting. If she had finished her briefing early, he wouldn’t have been able to stand up to thank her without embarrassing himself.

Deacon thought that returning to Royal as a successful real estate developer would change things. But every ounce of cockiness and confidence seemed to fly out the window the moment he’d laid eyes on Cecelia. Suddenly, he was an awkward teenager again. His old insecurities washed over him. He hadn’t been good enough for her then, and for some reason he didn’t feel good enough for her even now.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that their last conversation on graduation night had been her breaking up with him. He didn’t know exactly what had made her change her mind. Up until that point, she’d been very enthusiastic about their plans and their future together. Then, suddenly, she’d turned a one-eighty on him and walked away.

Deacon had always known he wasn’t the kind of boy the Morgans wanted for their daughter. He didn’t come from a good family, he was poor and he worked with his hands. He was certain that Brent and Tilly were thrilled that Cecelia had chosen someone like Chip Ashford, former captain of the football team, Texas senator, son of one of the most respected and wealthy families in Houston. He had a bright future ahead of him, no doubt.

Damn him for putting himself in this position, knowing he would be drawn to Cecelia as he always had been, but once again unable to have what he wanted.

He had to remind himself that he hadn’t returned to Royal to seduce Cecelia. That wasn’t why he’d asked her to do this presentation, either. He had come back to prove to her, and everyone else in the small-minded little town, that he was better than them. To show them that he could take his humble beginnings and still manage to create an empire faster than any of them could manage to inherit. He’d come back to make Cecelia regret her decision. To make the Morgans regret their decision. Nothing more.

When he completed his mission and opened his new hotel, Deacon would return to Europe, indulge his vices and forget all about the cliquish and unimportant people of Royal, Texas.

Well, he doubted he’d forget about Cecelia.

He’d only thought it was hard being around Cecelia while she did her presentation. Being alone with her had been agonizing. What was he going to do now that she would be working at his hotel nonstop until it opened? He wouldn’t be able to get away from her even if he wanted to. And he didn’t.

He felt like an idiot as he strolled down the hallway to the office Shane had provided for him while he was in town. He felt like he’d run away from Cecelia. He should’ve been more confident, indifferent, as though she’d had no impact on him at all.

Just as he sat down at his desk, Shane appeared in his doorway. “A successful day, I’d say! We not only have a hotel, but the guests won’t be sleeping on the floor. What do you say we go down to the Texas Cattleman’s Club and celebrate with a drink?”

Deacon arched a brow at his friend. He’d never set foot in that building before. He hadn’t even been good enough to clean their pool back in high school. “I’m not a member,” he pointed out. “And I’m sure there are plenty of people in the club who would see to it that I never get to be one of them.”

Shane dismissed him. “You are certainly welcome as my guest. And if you really wanted to be in the club I could sponsor you. I’m sure few people would have the nerve to speak up against me. Lately, the uproar has been more about the Maverick scandals, and I’m pretty sure that doesn’t involve you. Aside from that, there are still a few folks sore that women can become members of the club. You should’ve heard some of the bitching when the billiards room was converted to a day care. I’m sure they’d be happy to admit you and counteract the appearance that it’s turning into a henhouse instead of a clubhouse.”

Deacon had never entertained the idea of joining the club. And all things considered, he really didn’t want anything to do with an organization that had just decided in the past few years that women were worthy of participating. But he wouldn’t be rude about it because he knew Shane was a member and enjoyed it. “No thanks. I think I’m going to finish up a few things here and call it a night. There is a T-bone steak in the fridge that’s begging to be grilled tonight, and I can’t disappoint it.”

Shane smiled. “Okay, if you insist. But I’m going to drag you down there one day, though.”

“Why? What’s so great about a bunch of people sitting around in cowboy hats—which I don’t own—talking about cattle and horses—which I’m not interested in?”

“Well, for one thing, the restaurant makes the finest steaks you’ll ever eat. The bartenders pour a perfectly balanced dry martini. It’s a nice place to hang out, have a drink and chat with friends.”

Deacon supposed that to anyone else, it would sound very inviting. “Well, you’re my only friend in town, so again, I’ll pass. You go on and eat a finely prepared steak on my behalf.”

Shane finally gave up, nodding and throwing up a hand in goodbye.

Deacon watched him go, relieved that he managed to get out of dinner. He had many reasons for avoiding the clubhouse, but the biggest one was Cecelia and Chip. He knew that both of them were members, and he had no interest in running into either of them tonight. Not after she’d spent the afternoon twisting his insides into knots.

No, he needed a little time before he saw Cecelia again. He needed to remind himself how badly she’d hurt him and how much he wanted her to regret what she’d done. To keep his head on straight, he had to stay away from her.

A steak, a stiff drink and a Netflix binge would do it.

He hoped.

Three

When Cecelia got back to her office later that afternoon, she found a giddy Simone waiting for her in the lobby. Cecelia loved Simone, she was one of her best friends in the whole world, but after the day she’d had—hell, after the week she’d had—she wasn’t really in the mood. She had to jump on this Bellamy job right away if they were going to make the grand opening deadline.

Simone obviously didn’t care, ignoring the stressed-out vibes Cecelia knew she was sending out. She followed Cecelia down the halls of To the Moon to her private office. “Have you heard the latest news?” Simone asked after she slipped into the room behind her.

Cecelia dropped her things down on her desk and plopped, exhausted, into her chair. “Nope. There’s news?”

Simone rubbed her hands together in excitement and rushed over to sit on the edge of her desk. “So,” she began, “word is that Maverick is at it again. A message went out on social media to everybody in the Texas Cattleman’s Club today.”

Cecelia held her breath as she waited to hear the latest news. She’d been too busy with The Bellamy project to check her phone. Had Maverick taken her money and spread her secret anyway? “So, what did the message say?”

Simone pulled her cell out of her purse and flipped through it to find the message. Locating it, she handed the phone over to Cecelia. The message was short and blessedly vague. It read: Someone in the Texas Cattleman’s Club is not who they say they are.