To Need A Billionaire (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Billionaire's Baby Book 2) Read online

  To Need A Billionaire (The Billionaire’s Baby Series, #2)

  Ava Claire

  Copyright © 2016

  Cover by RBA Designs

  ~

  The Billionaire’s Baby Series

  To Want A Billionaire, #1

  To Need A Billionaire, #2

  To Crave A Billionaire, #3

  To Trust A Billionaire, #4

  To Love A Billionaire, #5

  ~

  E-book License Edition Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  The Billionaire’s Baby Series

  About the Author

  Chapter Seven

  I was at a complete and utter loss for words. Anyone that knew me could attest to the bizarre nature of me having literally nothing to say, especially in my own living room, face to face with a woman that had given me more grief and drama than any semblance of happiness.

  To top it off, instead of killing her with a death glare like Jacob, I couldn't find the disdain that usually came so easily. Tonight, I couldn't help but take in Alicia's disheveled state with what felt a whole lot like concern.

  Concern...and genuine worry, because she looked like she had something on her chest that would crush her if she didn't unload it.

  I didn't need a mental shake or a reminder that the mother-in-law from hell was sitting in my living room, because my husband was on the ball. He'd turned the air into a toxic, nearly unbearable thing, the silence as tense as a rubber band being stretched to the point of breaking. I had a feeling that it didn't help that Alicia had dropped the bomb, then marched right past us both to the living room. She’d staked her claim beside the mantle, her eyes blazing hotter than any fire.

  Jacob pounced with the cold brutality of an interrogator that had no qualms about getting his hands dirty.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Alicia and I both whipped our heads in his direction, the acid and vitriol seeping from every word. This was no welcome reunion for them. Jacob had been nothing but crisp and professional with his mother since her last betrayal. Since Cole and Brittany, when we discovered firsthand that there were no limits to Alicia Whitmore's treachery.

  Alicia propped both her hands on her hips, her eyes going as dark as coals. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  Jacob didn't blink. “What you said is irrelevant to me.” He crossed the room, pausing just in front of me, shielding me from whatever Alicia had up her sleeve. Even his side profile was intimidating: taut, fearless, and sexy as fuck.

  I blushed, heat seizing my cheeks because my husband protecting me, even against his own mother, was the most beautiful (and arousing) thing ever.

  “I'll ask you one last time before I call security,” Jacob smoldered. “What the hell are you doing in our home?”

  I glimpsed the Alicia I knew and despised peeking out from the clouds of whatever was going on. Her lips curled into a snarl as she flexed the fingers on her hips. With the crimson hue that tinted her nails and those sharp, fierce Whitmore angles, I was reminded of bloody talons. Relived the bits and pieces of nature shows I’d paused on while channel flipping, riveted until the predator swooped in for the kill.

  “Quite the welcome mat you put out for your mother, Jacob,” Alicia huffed sarcastically. “When I invite you to my home, I'm at least hospitable.”

  A protest rose in my throat, but he beat me to the punch.

  “You're not hospitable—you order the servants to be hospitable while you sit on your throne, oozing regality, forcing everyone to engage in your fake pageantry.” He crossed his arms with a finality that told me he was T-minus five seconds away for putting her out on her ass. “There was a time when I indulged your games, but that time has come and gone.” His voice froze over. “I won't repeat myself.”

  The realization that her son was not going to entertain her usual routine finally dawned on her. She changed her tactics, the tight, evasive lines in her face softening as she tried her luck with me. “Leila-”

  “Don't even think about it, Alicia.” I crossed my arms too, forcing away the baby hormones or whatever lunacy that had overcome me. Tempted me to give her the benefit of the doubt. “What's going on? It's late-”

  “It's 9 pm,” she interjected unhelpfully. When the floor creaked as Jacob wheeled toward the control panel to call security, she quickly added, “I'll get to the point so you can get back to...” She sniffed and the heat reclaimed my cheeks, like she could smell the sex in the air. “Whatever it was that you two were doing.”

  “Look-” Jacob growled, his voice taking on a low and dangerous timbre.

  “Getting to the point is probably wise,” I told her. I gently gripped Jacob’s forearm, trying to calm him down before he called SWAT in to take down his mother. “How about you have a seat, Alicia?”

  “I would love to have a seat,” she said, dialing up her gratitude an extra notch for Jacob's benefit.

  I didn't miss the fact that she gingerly lowered herself onto the perfectly clean cushion, tissue paper aside. “Don't worry, we Purell-ed every piece because we knew you were coming over.”

  I expected her to hit me with a comeback, but she just cleared her throat. “I can't believe there was a time I thought you lacked any charm, Leila.”

  Another compliment from my mother-in-law, in less than 24 hours. Even though it was wrapped in an insult, I still peered over my shoulder at Jacob. I wanted to make sure I wasn't hearing things. His surprised expression mirrored mine, arched eyebrows and all.

  I reverted my attention to our surprise guest, evaluating her slowly. Thoroughly.

  I started with the black Louboutins that were caked in mud, like she'd beast-moded through a 5k on her way to our place. Her dress from earlier, the dark hue crisp and fresh, was now a shady, wrinkled denim. I paused when I reached her neck, something a little out of place. A pristine, glittering pearl necklace was wrapped around her throat.

  When our eyes locked, her fingers flew to her jewelry, like she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

  Blushing was something I had down to an art since hiding my emotions was virtually impossible; my rosy cheeks gave me away every time. When I saw Alicia's fair skin turn pink, coupled with her erratic behavior, I threw my attention back to Jacob.

  I leaned in discreetly. “Maybe you should get her a drink.”

  His arms didn't budge from their strict position across his chest. “A drink means that she's here for a visit. Unless you two made plans-”

  “Jacob.” I didn't say anything more than his name, softly, pleading with him.

  The blue was like cerulean steel for a few more stubborn moments, then his gaze transformed to something gentle. Something for me. He didn't look at his mother, but he directed his question at the couch.

  “What would you like?”

  Alicia attempted to comb her fingers through her messy blonde locks. “I'm assuming you don't h
ave anything up to Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s standards?” She didn't wait for a reply. “A glass of any red you have on hand will suffice.” She crossed her legs, her eyes immediately dropping to my belly. “And something for your pregnant wife, who clearly has more manners than my well-bred son.”

  I cringed, expecting Jacob to pick up his sword, but he didn't say a word, stalking to the kitchen in silence.

  For his sake, and the part of me that refused to treat Alicia with anything but trepidation, I followed up with a refresher on how we did things in this Whitmore household. “We've allowed you to stay because you seem to have something important to share, but please don't mistake this as a ceasefire, Alicia. And any further disrespect of me or Jacob will earn you a first class ticket to the door.”

  She crossed her legs formally and rolled her shoulders back. “Fair enough.” She glanced at the cushion beside her and reached out, hand hovering a few inches above it. “Join me, Leila.”

  Still a little wary, I opted for the armchair a few feet away from her instead, moving a gift bag so I could plop onto the seat. Jacob returned with a glass of red wine that was barely more than a swallow or two, and a bottle of water and ginger ale for me. There was an ottoman hiding beneath a slew of onesies. He delicately tucked the gifts away and brought over the ottoman so I could prop my feet up.

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss on my temple, then stood like my own private security detail, throwing poison laced daggers at his mother. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Actually, it doesn't concern you.” Despite the harshness of her words, she didn't deliver them with disdain. She said it delicately, or as delicately as someone like Alicia was able. Her gray eyes clouded over with the heaviness of whatever she needed to confess. “Can I speak with Leila alone?”

  Jacob rested his hand on my shoulder and we exchanged an uneasy look. “That's up to her.”

  “You'd think I'd committed a capital crime based on the reception I've received,” she said with a haughty scoff.

  A scoff.

  After all she'd put us through.

  After all she'd done.

  I was pretty freaking comfortable in my chair so I certainly wasn't about to hop up, get in her face, and ask if she had amnesia, but there was no way I was going to let her bullshit go unanswered.

  “Perhaps you're under some delusion that me inviting you to the shower means that we've let bygones be bygones.” I fisted the arms of my chair when she had the audacity to look at me like she was confused. “That look on your face is just further proof that you don't deserve the benefit of anything. You can't even own what you've done!”

  She continued to stare at me blankly and when I met Jacob's gaze, he was just as incredulous. I had a sinking suspicion that I was wasting my breath, but I had to believe that at least saying it out loud instead of ignoring the very real damage she'd inflicted was better than pretending we couldn't smell the crap in the air.

  “Let me refresh your memory. Do you remember the brother that Jacob wouldn't have discovered if Cole hadn't shown up?” My first question was met with silence, so I blazed on. “How about arranging for his sister to be abducted and-”

  I couldn't even finish and I collapsed back into the seat, my blood pressure rising. The fact that I was talking to a wall urged me not to waste a moment more.

  “Clearly, allowing you into our home was a mistake,” Jacob said darkly, picking up the baton. “I think you should leave.”

  I exhaled.

  Thank God he said it, because all I wanted to do was scream.

  “No,” Alicia said simply, bringing her glass to her lips.

  My lips worked but nothing came out. The day that had started off stressful, then confusing, then ended up being pretty awesome once I shut off the voice in my head that told me something bad was just around the bend, was officially back to being stressful.

  One word, and Alicia had put Jacob and I in an awkward, unfair position. I was the idiot that buzzed her up; the dummy who didn't follow my husband's lead and kick her out at the start. Now, Jacob was going to have to make good on his threat and call security. Thank God the security here were discreet, otherwise I could only imagine the headlines once the world found out that Jacob Whitmore had his mother removed from his home.

  “It is time for you to leave-“

  "Jacob, I am not going anywhere," she said matter-of-factly. There was Alicia that thought the sun rose and set because she told it to. Who'd wasted Jacob's childhood and a nice chunk of his adulthood with her ears plugged and her head in the proverbial sand.

  Had this been her plan all along? To sneak back into our home, a home he'd rightfully barred her from after Cole and Brittany, glue herself to our couch, drink our wine, and hold everyone hostage? Refuse to leave so her son would have no choice but to have her hauled from the building?

  I twisted my mouth to the side, something not quite fitting. She wasn't Rachel Laraby. There was no way that she'd made arrangements with some paparazzo or that a videographer was staked out, waiting to catch the family drama on camera. Other than the fact that she eschewed all things celebrity culture, it was impossible that she'd want to be immortalized when she wasn't at her best, and she certainly wasn't batting at 100 currently. While her flagrant disregard of Jacob's proclamation to get the hell out was classic Alicia, the tenderness that ran beneath her words was something else. Something almost...vulnerable. Combined with her good behavior at the shower (despite my mom's threat of bodily harm), there was something else at play here.

  I narrowed my eyes. Were we finally chipping away at Alicia's defenses, glimpsing at something real underneath?

  I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, watching Jacob make good on his threat. God, I loved him...and it wasn't just because he was sexy as hell when he took no shit, even from his mother. He made me feel safe; safe enough that when I weighed out my options, hearing Alicia out or waving goodbye as they zip tied her and carted her from the premises, I chose the first option.

  Even though she'd proven she was far from trustworthy, I hoped that she'd finally seen the light and was ready to pick up the pieces and move forward.

  “Jacob,” I called out, just as his fingers brushed the buttons on the panel. “Wait a second.”

  Alicia was so used to reigning her kingdom with an iron fist, but I was the one that raised my chin and got comfortable in my chair. This was my home. Our kingdom. And if I didn't like the next words that fell from her lips...

  “Inviting you to share in this journey today,” I started, cradling my belly. "Was not a olive branch. The olive branch can't, won't come, until we have some-”

  “Truth,” Alicia finished, putting down the wine and folding one hand on top of the other. As if I wasn't already flabbergasted by her agreement, by her presence, by everything, she ended with, “You're right. It is time for some truth.”

  ~

  Truth?

  From Alicia Whitmore?

  If it wasn't for the flutter in me, the life that was making me way more generous and forgiving than was probably wise, I would have nodded at Jacob and ended this whole charade.

  Now she was ready for truth? Now she was going to finally come clean?

  It seemed too good to be true.

  Jacob and I had a silent conversation, neither of us saying a thing after Alicia uttered the last thing we'd expected. From the terse set of his jaw, I knew that he had no problem going through with the eviction.

  I was on the ledge, ready to write her off myself—but there was a whisper, a tiny bit of worry that if I let this opportunity pass us by, we’d regret it. What if we never got another peek behind the curtain at something other than the perfect, cold, brutal show that Alicia Whitmore put on for the world?

  When I handed my attention back to Alicia, her hands flew back to her necklace, then she continued.

  “I am not here to give you excuses. One of very few words of wisdom I received from my father was that excuses are a waste of breath. When yo
u fail, you fail...period.”

  My heart did clench a bit at that, memories of the bits and pieces of Alicia's childhood rushing through my head. Stories about a young Alicia who wasn't so indifferent to others. It was seen as a weakness, and remedied through her mother's cruelty.

  It would have been easy to not look Jacob and I in the face while she shared her piece, but she took us both in and spoke with an authority and confidence that was hard to not acknowledge.

  “I have made choices in my life that have had dire consequences.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, regret quickly rushing in. Being vague was just yet another excuse.

  “I shouldn't have kept Cole a secret from you, Jacob.” She angled towards him and there was a rawness in her voice that made a knot grow in my throat. It was a bundle of emotion that was pretty foreign in relation to Alicia.

  From across the room, with a mask of stone cemented to his face, it was impossible to discern if her words were having any effect on Jacob. I figured since security wasn't at our door, he was at least listening.

  I said a silent prayer to anyone that was listening. Please let this be real. I knew how painful his relationship, or lack thereof, was to Jacob. How he put himself out there, over and over, until he realized the well had gone dry a long time ago.

  But there was a drop of something and if I didn't know better, I'd say I’d heard tears in Alicia's voice.

  “And what I did to that girl, even after what she did to you, Leila...” She trailed off, her tone impassioned. Alive with something other than disgust. “What she did was horrific. And what I did was worse, because I knew better. Inflicting pain just continues the cycle. I have to learn how to let go. For my family's sake.”

  My stupid, gullible eyes were filling with tears. The knot in my throat was luckily putting a stop to the sobs that wanted to spill from my lips.

  Alicia slid to the edge of her seat, pivoting towards me. The gray in her eyes was no longer cloudy, but a full-on storm. Even with the tears clouding my view, I saw hers loud and clear.

  “That's why the text I got from you earlier meant so much to me. My mother left this earth alone, after pushing everyone who cared for her away. That will not be my legacy. It can't be.”