The Billionaire’s Risky Pregnancy

She was back out in the night air and saw her way out dangling around his fingers.

“I’ll just take these—”

“No so fast, bi*ch!” He wielded the keys like a weapon. Tasha knew enough to dart away when the stranger’s hands were on her neck. “Just trying to have some fun here. Why’d you have to go and spoil it?”

Any answer that she might offer was smothered by the force of his palm crossing her mouth, and Tasha tried to kick him again when another shadow fell on the scene.

“Get the hell off of her!”

Smith Heller was right there with the cashier at his back. The little man started to call for help with his cell phone when Smith simply pulled the stranger back with one hand and pounded his other fist into his middle. He doubled over and tried to say that he was sorry when Smith kicked him again and unhooked his belt from his waist. He was quick to bind the man’s hands behind his back, and when he seemed sure that the makeshift rope was secure, he turned his attention back to Tasha.

“You okay?” he asked. Tasha tried to nod her head as he lifted her into his arms. Smith brought her towards his chest and tried to ease the tension from her back, the cashier’s efforts finally came to something.

“I’ve called the cops!” he cried. “Are you alright there, Miss?” The smaller man’s question was not any easier to answer, and her body went numb as Smith guided her towards his car, a sharp Mercedes that probably cost more than three months’ worth of her paychecks combined. The locks came loose with a beep, and he sat her down in the passenger’s seat as his fingers stroked her face.

“You shouldn’t be out on your own this late,” he gently chided. Slowly lifting her eyes to meet his stare, his teasing tone was belied by the worry in his green eyes under a single lamp sticking out of the parking lot. Flecks of dust flew in the glaring stream, and she took his hand as she finally forced a smile.

“So I guess it was a good thing that I really wasn’t,” she said. The corners of his mouth turned upward, and she wanted nothing more than to get back in her bed and find some sleep when two squad cars from the local precinct appeared on the scene.

“What do we got here?” the larger of the pair asked as he stalked around the bound man, his eyes flashing from the cashier to Tasha and back again.

“I’ll handle this,” Smith whispered as he gave her hand a quick squeeze. Watching him leave, the man morphed from worried protector to a wheeler and dealer in the blink of an eye. He hovered over the bound man and whispered orders to the men in blue. As she slowly started to recover her senses, Tasha watched him explain the situation to the cops. Waiting to give her statement when they got around to talking to her, she was shocked to see them simply pull her would-be assailant from the pavement by his collar and toss him into the back of one of the squad cars. A small card made its way into Smith’s hand, and he pocketed the item as he turned back to his car and slipped to his knees.

“Handled,” he said. “I can take you to the hospital or—”

“Why didn’t they talk to me?” she demanded.

“Because I told them that you’ve already been through enough for one night,” he answered with a sly smile. “My name makes a point, and you can fill in the blanks once you’ve had some rest.” He tried to take her into his arms, but Tasha backed away from him in search of her fallen groceries. The cashier handed the items over and offered another plastic bag when she insisted that she could take care of herself and wanted to get home. Expecting Smith Heller to follow, she was stunned when he simply stepped into his car. Tasha gritted her teeth and turned the key in the ignition.

“I wasn’t looking for a hero,” she muttered to herself as she hit the gas. “I can speak for myself.”

Heading back up the hill to her apartment, she noticed as pair of headlights in her rearview mirror once she turned the corner. Slowing, she saw Smith Heller behind the wheel of his car and grumbled as she stopped before the entrance to her lot. Should she keep driving around in the hope that he might grow bored and just leave her alone? No doubt he would take delight in the game and keep chasing her until the night turned to day. Far too tired for that, she resigned herself to parking and lifting the broken bag from the backseat.

Smith Heller was right there, his Mercedes parked under a tree and well away from every other car.

“What?” she said, her rage bubbling in every direction. “Think you’re too good to park with the plebes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked ignoring her words. She rolled her eyes and wanted the comfort of her couch when he cut her off and left her with nowhere to run.

“Let me by,” she said. “Or are you going to make a foul move now that you’ve got the law in your back pocket.” His face fell under the faint light of the moon, but Tasha didn’t have time for his pain as she walked past him.

“I’m sorry,” he called out. She stopped in her tracks but did not turn back to face him. “Just wanted to make sure that you got home alright. Is this it?” Looking back with a little nod, she saw Smith’s lips expand into a smile.

“Great,” he said. “Guess I’ll leave you to it then?” Now he was the one to turn away, and she saw his shoulders sag when he halted and spoke to her without looking.

“And for the record, I park under trees for the shade.”

“But it’s still dark,” she said.

“Old habits die hard.” Smith finally looked over his shoulder, and when her limbs shook and the plastic bag fell to her feet, he approached her again and tenderly took hold of her hands.

“I was… really just wanted to help you out,” he said. “If you want to go back to the cops right now, I’ll drive you. Park right out in the open if it makes you happy.”

He suddenly looked so different. Far from the captain of industry that was trying to tell children that they had no place to play, that there was no Santa Claus or hope for magic in this life.

“No,” she said. “It’s late and I’m…” Tired and needing some place to rest her head, she fell into his shoulder and heard the beating of his heart. Content to linger around the warm sound, she gasped when he touched his finger to her back and smoothed his fingers through her braids.

“What do you need now, Miss Finn?” She wasn’t falling asleep any time soon. Her adrenaline was still far too close to eleven.

“I need to eat,” she said. “Do you still have those frozen pizzas?” His smile nearly split his face apart, and he asked her to stay where he could see her as he headed back to his hidden car and returned with his own plastic bag and an even brighter smile.

“So we’re cooking together then?” he asked.

“Looks like,” she answered. “Please don’t mind the mess. I’m a little distracted as of late.”

“I get it,” he said. “No worries.