My Wounded Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 5) Read online

  I take a deep breath. Am I really going to do this? I’ve been thinking about it for weeks—months, actually, ever since he asked me out. I have no idea what he’s going to say. He might laugh and go back to the Ark and tell everyone, or get angry and ask me what the hell I’m thinking. Neither would surprise me.

  Still, nothing ventured…

  “I was just going to have some lunch and a cold drink,” I tell him. “Would you like to join me?”

  He stares at me, obviously taken aback. I wait, expecting a rejection. But he just says, “Okay,” walks over and places his tool bag by his Ford Ranger Raptor—what Kiwis call a ‘ute’ or utility vehicle and Americans call a truck—clicks his fingers at Jack to follow him, then crosses the yard and follows me inside.

  I’m lucky enough to work in a beautiful office. Usually, I share it with Sandra or Rachel, the two women who work shifts, helping me out with the animals, but today I’m on my own, and the office is empty. Its front windows look out over the fields and the valley beyond, and it’s filled with sunshine. The back windows face the Ark. As I glance out, I can see Leon and Nix walking across the square, heading for the office block. A woman has arrived with a scruffy terrier, ready to have it washed and trimmed in the brand-new grooming rooms. In the distance, I can see Noah, walking with his girlfriend, his two German Shepherds bouncing around the stroller he’s pushing that contains his new baby boy.

  I turn away and walk over to the small kitchen in the corner, and take out a couple of cans of Sprite Zero from the fridge. I show them to Marc, who nods, and then add some ice to two tall glasses and pour the Sprite over them. He comes and collects them as I put a bowl of water down for Jack, along with a dog biscuit. Then I take out the box of bread rolls from the fridge and bring them over to the small table by the window.

  “Do you mind if I leave this off?” Marc gestures to the top of his coveralls. “I’m a bit hot after working on the fence.”

  “Not at all.” I glance up and meet his eyes briefly. I can smell his warmed body spray from here. It makes my mouth water. I drop my gaze to the box and remove the lid. “Chicken salad or ham and mayonnaise?”

  “Ham, please.”

  I take one out and pass it to him, and I choose a chicken one. We both take a bite and munch away.

  “So…” He has a swig from the glass of Sprite, then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “To what do I owe this honor?” His eyes gleam with amusement as he has another bite of his roll.

  I shrug. “You were working hard, and I thought you were probably hungry.”

  “I’m always hungry. But that doesn’t explain why you made extra rolls for lunch today.”

  He’s got me there. I’d done so in the hope that I’d spot him around the grounds. “All right,” I scold him. “Enough with the third degree. Yes, I planned this.”

  His lips curve up. “Okay.” He sits back in his chair and studies me, eating his roll in another two bites. He has the perfect amount of chest hair—not too much so he’s like a gorilla, but enough to illustrate his masculinity. He works outside a lot, so his skin is very brown all over. Well, almost all over. I wouldn’t imagine he’s tanned down there…

  I lift my gaze to his. There’s laughter in his eyes, as if he’s able to read my mind.

  “You look lovely today, by the way,” he says softly.

  I blink a few times, taken aback by a second compliment in almost as many minutes. “Oh. Thank you.”

  “That color suits you.” He gestures at my orange T-shirt. “It goes with your hair.” His gaze caresses it. And then, I realize what he’s thinking, what he’s concluded from my asking him here for lunch. Shit.

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” I tell him, as gently as I can. “About going out with you.”

  His smile fades, to be replaced with a frown. He turns the glass around in his fingers before returning his gaze to me.

  “Why?” he asks.

  That stumps me.

  “I told you last time, I don’t want a relationship,” I remind him.

  “You don’t want a relationship with me? Or with anyone?”

  I take a piece of lettuce out of the roll. It’s soggy, and I don’t like soggy lettuce. “With anyone.”

  “Is this to do with Daniel?”

  I give him a sharp look. How much does he know about my ex? I broke up with Daniel last Christmas. The only person I told what happened was my brother, Albie…

  I sigh. Albie can’t keep a secret to save his life. No doubt he’s told the whole of the Ark by now.

  “That’s irrelevant,” I tell Marc, lifting my chin.

  “It’s not,” he states. “You’ve been hurt badly, I can see that. And I understand why it’s making you feel that you don’t want to get involved with anyone again. But you can’t let a fucking idiot like that ruin the rest of your life.”

  His description of Daniel brings a small smile to my face. “I appreciate your concern,” I tell him. “But as I said, that’s irrelevant. That’s not why I asked you in today.”

  He doesn’t like the answer. He narrows his eyes and glares at me. But he doesn’t push the matter. “All right,” he says. “So why did you ask me in?”

  I lean forward on the table and examine my hands for a moment. “I’m wondering if you can help me out.”

  “Of course,” he says. “Anything.”

  I give him a wry look. “I think you’d better wait and see what I want first.”

  “Okay…”

  I take a deep breath and finally reveal the dream that’s been on my mind, and in my heart, for a long, long time. “I want a baby.”

  Chapter Two

  Fitz

  I stare at Poppy. “What?”

  “I want a baby,” she repeats, finally meeting my eyes. There’s a look of steely determination in them. She’s not joking. She means it.

  “I’m confused,” I tell her. “You want me to kidnap you one or something?”

  “No, Marc,” she says, slightly exasperated. Even though everyone else at the Ark calls me Fitz, she’s always called me Marc. “I’m asking you whether you would agree to being a sperm donor.”

  I’m so taken aback I can’t think what to say. If you’d asked me to guess what she was going to come out with, this would have been at the very bottom of the list. Probably not on the list at all, in fact.

  The beautiful woman sitting before me chews her bottom lip. For the first time, she looks unsure, maybe even wary. She’s worried about how I’m going to react. I’m not surprised. I’m not sure how I’m going to react.

  Because I’m not sure what to say, I don’t say anything. Instead, I sit and study her for a while. My God, she’s beautiful. I know she turned thirty back in March, but she has flawless skin and a slim figure, and she looks five years younger. I wish she’d said yes to a date, but I know her ex killed her confidence. Albie admitted Daniel said some incredibly cruel things to her.

  Like Albie, and their father, Charlie, Poppy’s on the spectrum, and obviously struggles with communication and social issues. Because of this, she’s extremely quiet, and possibly the most private person I’ve ever met. Although she’s happy to chat to me, she rarely shares details of herself, and even though I’ve known her for a while now, most of the information I’ve gleaned about her has come from the other members of her family.

  Albie told me that Daniel accused her of being a frigid ice queen who shouldn’t be allowed out into society. I don’t know what prompted him to say that; I suspect he didn’t understand that although she might not always show emotion, she does feel it. And that if her feelings are hurt, she undoubtedly withdraws. Frigid implies something went wrong in bed, too, but I sincerely doubt she was passionless. Nobody with eyes as expressive as hers has a lack of passion in her soul.

  I’d really hoped that as time went by, she might come around to the idea of dating me. But instead, she’s come out with this. She wants me to father her child.

  I’m a confusing mixture o
f flattered and puzzled. Part of me understands why she’s made this decision. She’s been hurt, and she doesn’t want to enter into another relationship, but she obviously wants children, so she’s decided that being inseminated by a sperm donor is the best method.

  But she’s chosen me. Out of all the guys she knows.

  “Why?” I ask, baffled.

  “Why do I want a baby?” she clarifies.

  “No. I mean, Christ, why on earth do you want me? I can’t imagine any woman choosing me to be the father of their baby. Why not just go to a sperm bank?”

  She shrugs. “I looked into it, and it’s definitely an option. But I’d feel more comfortable if the father was someone I knew.” Her gaze slips down me, making me tingle as if she’s using the tips of her fingers. “I like you. You’re an excellent physical specimen. You’re tall and good looking. You’re strong and you seem healthy. You’re intelligent, kind, honest, and loyal. Those are the kinds of traits I’d be happy to reproduce in my children.”

  I’m close to blushing. No woman has ever said anything remotely like that to me before.

  Equally, I’m so disappointed I feel an ache deep inside. “Honey,” I tell her, “I’m incredibly flattered, unless you’ve already debated everyone else and I’m the last on the list.”

  “You’re not,” she says. “You’ve always been at the top.”

  I give a short laugh and look out of the window. She actually has a good sense of humor, but sometimes she misses sarcasm and irony, and she says exactly what’s on her mind. “It must be a very short list.”

  “Not at all. Why don’t you think you’d be an attractive proposition?”

  I don’t know how to answer that. I look back at her. “Well…” I say carefully, “as I said, I’m very flattered, but it seems such a waste. You should be dating, whether it’s me or someone else. You never know, it might work out, and then the whole baby thing might happen of its own accord.”

  But she shakes her head, determined. “No. I’m not made to be in a relationship.”

  “Aw, Poppy…”

  She holds up a hand. “It’s just the way it is. I don’t understand men, and I’m terrible at being a partner. And I’m not going through it again. I’m done. But I do want children.”

  “How many are we having?”

  She glares at me. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Well, we could start with one and see how it goes.”

  “Right.” I stretch out my legs, fold my hands, and tip my head to one side as I study her. “So how would this work, then?”

  “You want me to explain artificial insemination?”

  “No. I’d like some more details on how I would be involved.”

  “You don’t need to be involved at all. Other than… you know… the obvious.”

  “What if I want to be?”

  She hesitates. “Well… um…” She frowns. “I’d assumed you wouldn’t be interested. I thought you’d be relieved not to be involved. In my experience, the last thing men are interested in is commitment.”

  She’s talking about Daniel again. He wouldn’t commit to her. Maybe she mentioned wanting children and he said no. Anger flares inside me. “So what do I get out of it?” I ask her. I’m being sarcastic, but she doesn’t pick up on it.

  “I’d pay you,” she says. “A thousand dollars for each… donation.”

  “Jesus.” She thinks I’d take money from her for jerking off into a cup. She thinks she has to pay me to get me to help her.

  My frustration flows over. Before I say something I’ll regret, I stand up. “I’m sorry, I’ve got things to do.”

  “But—”

  I walk out before she can finish, snapping at Jack to follow me, go over to the car, plonk Jack on the passenger seat, throw the tool bag in the back, and drive away.

  I’m so angry, I want to hit something. I’m tempted to drive into Paihia to the local primary school, find Daniel Magget—or the Maggot, as I call him—and beat the living shit out of him. Fucking bastard. I bang the steering wheel. He’s spoiled her, corrupted the soul I know gleams like gold beneath her current layer of hurt and pain.

  I drive into the Ark’s car park, get out, and stride across with Jack at my heels to the office block.

  “Hey.” Albie lifts a hand in greeting as I pass, but I ignore him and walk through to my office. I slam the door, making the whole building rattle. Jack goes under the table and lies with his snout on his paws.

  “Stupid fucking idiot,” I mumble, unzipping the bottom half of my coveralls and stepping out of them. I pull on my suit pants, take out a can of deodorant from my desk, and spray under my arms before I pull on my shirt.

  I turn as there’s a knock at the door, and Albie sticks his head around. “You okay?” he asks. “You looked… upset.” Jack goes over to him as if to say Albie, Fitz is in one of his moods again!

  I put my hands on my hips and glower at him. “I’ve just been talking to Poppy.”

  He comes in and slides his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, she can be frustrating.”

  “I’m not frustrated with her. I’m angry with Daniel-fucking-Maggot-head.”

  His lips curve up. “Ah.”

  I turn and throw my coveralls into the corner of the room. “I want to strangle him.”

  “You’ll have to get in line, I’m afraid. Dad and I are in front.”

  It must have been bad if both Albie and Charlie King are feeling physical toward him. “He hurt her,” I whisper. “Badly.”

  “I know.”

  “She won’t go out with me because of him.”

  Albie sighs and studies his feet. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know how to persuade her that I’m not like him.”

  “You’ll just have to give her time,” he says softly.

  I blow out a long breath. “And I’d be happy to do that, except she’s just asked me…”

  His eyebrows rise. “What?”

  I look out of the window. I shouldn’t betray her confidence. But I honestly have nobody else to talk to about it. And if anyone has an idea of how to navigate the minefield that is Poppy’s mind, it’s her brother.

  I look back at him. “She’s just asked me whether I would be a sperm donor for a baby.”

  Albie stares at me. “What?”

  “I know.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair.

  “Was she serious?”

  “Oh yes. And the thing I’m worried about most is that if I say no, she’s going to go ahead and do it anyway. Go to a sperm bank or something.”

  I’d half expected Albie to laugh, but he sits on the edge of the desk, looking pained. “She wants kids,” he says.

  “Looks that way.”

  “It’s because she turned thirty.”

  “I’m guessing. And what happened with Daniel has convinced her she’s not going to have a successful relationship, so she’s got to do it this way.”

  He studies me. “What did you say?”

  “I walked out. I was frustrated and I didn’t want to say something I regretted.” I sigh. It was rude of me, and she deserves better. It must have taken her a lot of courage to ask me. “I’ll go back in a while and apologize.”

  “Are you going to agree?”

  I frown. “I don’t know. It’s a bit odd, fathering a child I’d then have no connection with. I don’t think she’d want me to be around for it. And she obviously doesn’t need child support.” As a King, Poppy is already very rich. “But if she’s serious…” I’m puzzled. I can’t work out my feelings on this. I feel flattered and resentful and angry and oddly hopeful, all rolled into one. “She offered to pay me,” I say, and roll my eyes.

  Albie shrugs. “You’d get paid if you donated to a sperm bank.”

  I stare at him. “Are you saying you agree with it?”

  “I’m saying she wants a child, and you’re her friend, and ultimately it’s not
a huge task for you to do something that will make her incredibly happy. I’m sure she didn’t mean to offend you by offering money. She probably thought it would make it feel more like a transaction, and that you’d be pleased.”

  I hadn’t considered that. Maybe she’d be horrified to think she’d offended me. I tuck my shirt in my trousers, mumbling under my breath.

  “You really like her, don’t you?” Albie says.

  I scratch my cheek, my nails rasping on bristle. I need a shave. “I wish I could convince her to go out with me and do this the normal way.”

  “If you can’t,” Albie says, getting up as his mobile rings, “you might just have to be inventive.” He winks at me, gives Jack a final pat, and walks out as he answers his phone.

  I sit, put my feet up on the table, and lean back in my chair. Poppy has another couple of classes visiting now, so there’s no point me going over there for a while. It’ll give me time to think about it, at least.

  What on earth am I going to say to her?

  My instinct is to say no. But I’m ashamed to admit I am tempted, and the reason is actually nothing to do with Poppy. The reason is that I need the money, and Poppy is offering to pay me for a service that, as Albie said, isn’t a huge task for me. It would make her happy. So why am I balking?

  I suppose it’s the weird notion of fathering a child in secret. I presume she wouldn’t want to tell either the child or everyone else here who the father was. I shouldn’t have told Albie. I’ll have to have a word with him to keep his mouth shut.

  If I say no, she may well go ahead via a sperm bank if she’s desperate for a child, and it appears she is to even be considering the option.

  I don’t want her to get pregnant by another man.

  The realization is somewhat startling. I’d rather make her happy by helping her to get pregnant than let her go through it all alone, using some stranger’s sperm.

  Wow. What a bizarre eureka moment. I never thought when I woke up this morning that I’d be thinking about fathering a child.

  The thought fills me with a strange warmth. Before my father died, my childhood was run-of-the-mill, neither good nor bad, although that all changed after Dad died when I was fifteen. Mom’s alcoholism and unhappiness meant my late teens were difficult, and I was glad to get away. The Army provided the security and stability I’d missed, until it was ripped away from me by the accident. My relationships have all ended somewhat disastrously, especially the last one. Sometimes, I’ve thought it’s unlikely I’ll ever settle down and have a family. So the thought of getting Poppy pregnant is strangely appealing.