The Billionaire's Baby

iCHAPTER 1

Life is too short for this. Cameron Peterson stepped onto the dimly lit balcony and let the plate glass door swing closed behind her, gladly trading the light of the New Year's Eve wedding reception for the silent reflection of lights on Sydney's Darling Harbor.
Relaxing her grip on her champagne flute, she moved away from the pulsing beat of the music to the shadowy corner that offered not only the most privacy, but the best view of the glistening water. She shook her head and allowed herself a smile. What had she been trying to prove? The exercise regime, the new dress, the new hairstyle. And at the end of it all she'd rather be walking barefoot along the water's edge. Alone.
She made her resolution then and there. Stop searching for a future or wallowing in the mistakes of her past, and start enjoying the present.
The music washed louder over her and she tensed with the knowledge that someone else had come onto the balcony. She stayed still, facing the waters, hoping that the night and the slender polled palms positioned infront of the handrail would screen her from the casual observer.
"Rosa wanted me to call". A deep resonant voice carried to her. "She insisted i do it right now. So how's it going?" There was a long pause. "Congratulations. I guess we really do have to excuse you for not making it to the wedding." Did she imagine the catch of emotion in that warm voice? Curiousity got the better of her and Camie turned her head. A man stood midway along the balcony. With the light behind, the only thing she could be sure of was that he was tall and that his crisply cut datk hair had a hint of a wave. With one hand he held a phone to his ear, and in his other he carried a glass of champagne that match hers.
"Give me the details so i can pass them onto the family. We'll do the cigars when we get back." His accent was predominantly Australian, but with an underlying hint of something more exotic.
Camie glanced from her unknown companion to the balcony door and back again. Hopefully he'd finish his call and be on his way. She just needed a little peace, a little space before she re-entered the fray and then make a discreet exit from this entire fiasco. Tomorrow morning she would be on a plane back home to New Zealand.
"Give Lisa our love." From the corner of her eye Camie saw him start toward the door. A sigh of relief welled within her, but was cut short at the ringing of his phone.
"Nick speaking."
Nick? Brusque. Strong
"What is it Angelina?" The warmth she'd heard earlier was gone. His deep, measured voice was resigned and somewhat displeased. The contrast intrigued her, and Camie turned a little more. He'd stopped partway toward the doors, and the light spilling onto him revealed broad shoulders tapering to lean hips. In the stark lines of his profile- the strong jaw, the nose with the slight bump midway along- she recognized one of the grooms men.
There had been plenty of time during the the hour-long service to contemplate the bridal party: the striking petite blond bride, the five rose-pink, ruffled and frilled bridesmaids and the equal amount of groomsmen, most of them dark haired, and all of them good-looking.
This one's mix of careless elegance and intensity, had piqued her curiousity. Was he naturally serious, did he have a problem with the wedding, or would he, like her just rather be somewhere else?
During the second scriptual reading she had imagined a moment's eye contact as though he'd sensed her study of him, and her mouth had run dry. Logic told her that, from her position at the rear of the cathedral, that sensation of connection of heat, she looked away. He wasn't a friend of Jason, the groom, so his link had to be with the bride.
"You ended it, Angelina, and it was the right decision. I hadn't realized how much your expectations had changed." It wasn't as easy to stop listening as it was to stop looking. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "We agreed at the start that neither of us was looking for that sort of commitment."
Camie focused on the city lights, and though she knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, still a part of her waited for him to speak again. There was another long pause. "I'm sorry." His voice had gentled. "But no. You know this is for the best." With a heaby sigh he snapped his phone shut. "Damn," he said quietly into the night.
Camie felt for the unknown woman. She had done her time with the man who didn't want to commit. She knew the pain and sense on inadequancy that brought. She wouldn't ever go there again.
Today, she had watched the man she once thought she would marry pledge his love to another woman.
She glanced over her shoulder, and between the arching fronds of a palm, saw Nick rest his forearms on the balcony railing. A warm breeze sifted through her hair. It was no hardship to wait him out. Taking another sip of chilled champagne, she looked back at the play of lights on the ink-black water. For long, restful minutes shr considered how she could re-create the effect with oils.
"Solitude is one thing amd loneliness another. Which is is for you?"
The words were so quietly spoken, Camie wasn't sure they were directed at her. She looked over to see that the stranger had turned in her direction. Datk eyes, were fixed on her. But how to answer? Was this solitude or loneliness?
A phrase of her mother's popped up into her head. "If you're choosing between bad company and loneliness hoose the latter." Except that wasn't quite right. The loneliness had been inside the dazzling reception, surrounded by others. Outside was the blissful solitude. Camie was suddenly struck by how insulting the remark could seem. Especially by a member of the wedding party. Her mother would have softened the remark with a toss of her head and a gurgle of throaty laughter. Camie, who usually prided herself on being nothing like her mother, could carry off neither.
The man assessed her anew, curiousity rather than affront in his gaze. "Should i ask about the bad company or the loneliness?"
She sought to deflect that interest. Hopefully, he didn't know she was the ex-girlfriend, here only because she and Jason were determined to keep their relationship amicable. "Perhaps like you i came out to take a phone call."
A half of smile lifted one corner of his mouth and his amused gazed are ficked on her, bringing her frission of awareness as he took inthe sleeveless, red sheath that skimmed her curves, finishing at her ankles. It was a dress she never would have worn if she'd still been with Jason. He preferred muted colors and conservative styles. There was no place this dress for even the slimmest of phones, and her evening bag still lay on her seat between Jason's overly friendly uncle and his unfriendly cousin. Dark eyebrows rose appreciatively. "Technology is a marvelous thing."
She smiled reluctantly. "Perhaps i just came out for some fresh air." Surreptitiously, she returned his assessment. The cut of his suit whispered tailor-made rather than off-the-racks. And no distortion of its classic lines betrayed the phone he'd slipped into his pocket.
"Or solitude?" He asked.
Her smile widened. "Definitely that."
Holding her gaze, he lifted his glass. The pale liquid shimmered golden in the light from inside, bubbles glinted like tiny jewels. "To solitude."
She raised her glass in return. The irony of toasting solitude with someone else wasn't lost on either of them
He touched his glass to his lips and took a sip, and Camie watched the slide of his adam's apple, then looked away conscious of her awareness of him. For a time they remained silent. Out on the harbor a launch motoered towards tje bridge, the low murmur of its engine drifting across the water.
"So is there someone waiting impatiently inside for your return?"
The undisguised interest warmed her ego. "No." And for the first time that evening it didn't seem such a bad thing that Marc, her colleague, had bailed on her at last minute. The guests and the bride and groom were supposed to jave seen her dancing gaily with a gorgeous man. It was meant to demonstrate how well she had gotten on with her life.
"Then i propose another toast. To nee beginning, new lives. To freedom."
Is that what he felt over the end of his relationship. Camie lifted her glass. "To freedom." She tested the concept. And in saying the words she recognized the feeling that of late had been unfurling within her. They both took another sip.
"Unfortunately, however, i'm not as free as I'd wish tonight." He glanced inside. "Duty calls." In three strides he was at the door. He paused with his hand on the saucer-size silver disc that served as it handle and turned back to her. "Perhaps a dance later?"
His gaze, full of promise held hers as she answered. "Perhaps." She got the feeling he wasn't often refused.
He smiled, teeth gleaming white in the night, his eyes reflecting the glitter of light from inside. It was the first smile she'd seen from him, and Camie revised her opinion as she gripped the failing for support. Merely intriguing when he wasn't smiling, he was knee-weakening when he was. He evenhad a dimple. Just one low on his left cheek. He probably had a litany of faults, but certainly none of them were obvious to the eye.
Nick pulled open the door and disappeared. Mesmerised Camie watched the glass panel swing slowly shut behind him. She gave her head a quick shake, trying to dislodge the schoolgirl sensation of enchantment that had enveloped her while they'd been speaking.
Reality returned.
"Perhaps" was no commitment on either of their parts. She was free to go. She had come, seen Jason married, and felt almost nothing. Certainly no pain, only regret that they had stayed together for as long as they had. If he'd told her the truth- not that he wasn't ready for marriage yet. But that he wasn't readyto marry her- they could have parted sooner. Six years seemed such a colossal waste.
She gave herself a few more minutes of the view and the peace, then crossed to the door. The high-ceilinged ballroom was hung with crystal chandeliers and brimmed with women in shimmering dresses and men in tuxedos. Laughter and music filled the air.
Camie glanced towards the dance floor infront of the jead table and saw Nick expertly leading a plump woman in a waltz. Grinning, he lowered his head toward her silver curls and said something. The woman laughed and slapped his shoulder. Nick laughed back.
With an unexpected twinge of regret that she would never know what it was like to be held in his arms, Camie sought the exit. The doors beckoned on the far side or the room. Surely no one would neither notice or care if she left now. Tonight thoughts were turned to celebration and new beginnings. And she'd got that much herself. Closure of a chapter, a fresh page to start her life on. Tomorrow a new year would begin. She had proved, at least to herself, that she was well and truly over Jason. She woshed him and melody only the best.
She would retrieve her evenin bag then slip away. But as she got closer to her table, she found her way blocked by a cluater of bridesmaids, head conspiratorially close together.
Camie tried to edge behind them, there was just enough room.
"It's not public knowledge yet," one ot the bridesmaids whispered dramatically. "But Melody and Jason are both over the moon about the news. Jason hasn't stopped grinning since they found out."
Camie frozed, her hips pressed against yhe back of a chair swathed in linen and gold.
"He's almost molycoddling her," the whisper continued
"Of course, she loves it."
"When is she due?" Asked another
"Six months."
Despite how much Camie wanted childreb, Jason had insisted that he didn't. Not yet. She had persuaded herself thay shr was content to wait. Obviously, his denial should also have come with the same qualification as his sentiments on marriage- and not with you.
Her grip on her champagne flute tightened. She had been so naive, searching for the perfect life, hoping for a future where there was never going to be one. Because, in reality she had been his holding pathners company, while he waited for the right woman. Her chest constricted. The sensation that out on the balcony had felt the blossoming freedom withered into soggy loserdom.
She closed her eyes. She had tried so hard, and it hadn't been enough. Talking a fortifying breath, she straightened her spine anr opened her eyes. The past couldn't be changed but the present could. She had to get out of here. She didn't even care about evening bag. There was nothing in it she needed.
Except her room key.
Her heart sank, but she rallied. Nevermind. She would go for a walk and comeback for it later. With a careful sidestep, she eased herself back yhe way she'd come, amd with the escape beckoning, spun around.
And collided with Melody.
Camie's champagne coursed down the intricately beaded front of the bride's designer wedding dress.
For a second they both froze in horror. Aghast, Camie scratched up a linen napkin and blotted frantically at the dress. "Melody, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay." Melody tried to help. "It was an accident." But the bride's distress showed cleanly in her wide eyes and hitch in her breath.
Two bridesmaids rushed over looking daggers at Camie. She yook a step back and was about to apologize again, when a deep voice cut through the bridesmaids dramatic sqwaks.
"Good thing it wasn't the red wine."
Camie looked up to see Nick redr his hand on Melody shoulder. "It'll be okay." His quiet assurance calmed the bride, who smiled regretfully.