Page 1 of Secret Baby for Dr. Billionaire

Prologue

Chloe

ThebartenderslidanotherCuba Libre my way. Oh, no. I was already on my fifth one, and if I had one more, I wouldn’t be able to take myself home.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this,” I told the bartender as he wiped a glass with a towel. The speakeasy was quiet and classy, with its dark mahogany bar and violin tunes playing in the background. When I looked around the first time, there were more men in suits than teenagers who were swaying their hips.

Tonight, I was wearing a spaghetti-strap Bodycon dress I never thought I’d picked up at the back of the closet and black heels from a thrift shop downtown. My dark hair was tied up in a ponytail, showing some skin on my neck and chest.

Drinking on a Friday night wasn’t a very Chloe Kennedy thing to do. Not only was I trying to save money, but I was also trying to live as healthy as I could. I hadn’t had a severe asthma attack for years, only mild ones that could be easily managed with my trusty old inhaler. After I was rushed to the hospital six years ago and thought I was going to die from lack of oxygen, I knew I needed to change my lifestyle. But when my students decided to throw paint at each other earlier in class today, I knew I deserved a drink. Or six.

“The man at the end of the bar bought it for you,” the bartender pointed out.

I slid my attention to the guy he was talking about, and sure enough, there was a sexy man there, leaning against the bar in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his corded forearms. I squinted in the harsh light of the bar to see his face, which apparently wasn’t a good idea because the man chuckled, shook his head, pushed himself off the bar, and started walking in my direction.

Shit.

I followed the man with my eyes, and I tried to be as sexy as I could be in my state. His eyes didn’t leave mine either, except when he was close enough to check me out. His gaze went down, taking in my long, bare legs, and went back up to meet my dark, alluring eyes.

“You squinted,” he pointed as he took up the empty space beside me. He looked gorgeous—like a Greek god, maybe six-foot-three, with the most beautiful hazel eyes I’d ever seen. He was definitely older than me just by the way his eyes looked—like they’d seen so much. Regardless, he was in remarkable shape. A light stubble painted his chin, and he smelled so good. The scent was expensive and included something clean, woodsy, topped with smoky notes.

“This got you where I wanted you,” I joked, taking the drink he had bought me. Oh, what the hell.

“I’ve never seen you here before…” He’s clearly waiting for me to tell him my name. And this led me to the reason why I don’t go out drinking frequently.

“Stranger danger,” I said in a sing-song voice, “but you can call me Bonnie in the meantime.”

“Very good,” he praised, chuckling to himself. The vibration of his laugh made my skin tingle and my core clench. I didn’t know him, but my body wanted this charming, elegant man. “Clyde, then,” he added, pairing his nickname with mine. I hoped I’d be able to sleep with Clyde, have the best night of my life, and never see him again.

“So, what brought you to my little bar tonight, Bonnie?” Clyde asked, staring into my eyes with so much intensity that I felt like he was going to suck my soul in.

“You own this place?”

“And five others on the block.” He licked his lower lips and smirked at me like I was some treat he couldn’t wait to taste. My stomach flipped, and my heart rate escalated. I wouldn't mind being feasted on tonight by this man. “I know that you’re not a regular here, Bonnie. If you were, I would know.”

“Just here to get my mind off things.”

“I hope you’re not having boy issues.”

“Kids,” I corrected. “Thirteen of them, all under the age of twelve, who think it’s fun to throw paint around the classroom.”

“Ah,” he agreed. “I get what you mean.”

“You’re a teacher, too?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But I have a seven-year-old at home who thinks up the same kind of things sometimes.” Fuck. Is he married? Was I about to mess with a married man? I shot a glance at his ring finger but didn’t see the mark of a wedding ring there. “Don’t worry,” he added when he saw me studying his hand. “Never been married. I’m just here to have fun like you clearly are.”

“So, you happen to own six bars on the block, you’re a single father, and yet you’re not married?”How did I get so lucky, I wanted to add but didn’t. He was rich and could raise a child—it ticked all the right boxes, yet no woman had tamed him down. Surely, there was something wrong with that, right?

“I also open people up for a living.” Clyde took a sip of his amber drink and studied me once more. This time his eyes turn dark, sparkling with lust. Suddenly there was tension in the air, and it made me sweat.

“Like a serial killer?”

“Like a surgeon, Bonnie,” Clyde corrected with a chuckle, and my pussy contracted in approval at the sound. “I save lives for a living.”

“That must mean you’re very good with your hands then, Clyde,” I breathed softly, hoping he would take the hint. He turned to face the bar, drinking the last of his drink.

“Only one way to find out.”

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