The British Billionaire's Baby by Cristina Grenier Page A

that; and Sebastian could do nothing to stop it. He felt her toss and turn all night beside him only to rise in the middle of the night to disappear and do God bloody knew what.
    One night, he felt her leave the bed around three in the morning, and after several tense moments by himself, he rose to don his robe and follow her. Silently, he padded down the stairs and through the parlor and kitchen to the narrow landing that led up to her workshop. A low light shone down from the room, confirming its occupation, and Sebastian sighed before beginning up the stairs.
    When he crested the staircase, he stopped cold, the sight before him giving him pause.
    Gabrielle was utterly, completely naked. Her caramel colored skin glowed in the dim light of a number of candles that she’d lit as she moved hauntingly to the base of the soft music that played from her iPod. Splotches of paint were flecked over her shoulders, the small of her back and the small jut of her abdomen as she worked, utterly absorbed in her work.
    Her horrendous nightgown lay pooled in a heap at the head of the stairs, and the woman worked with long, almost violent strokes of a thin brush, the paint swirling onto the canvases in hypnotic motions. It was, Sebastian realized, the piece she’d begun to work on not long after moving into the house. The colors and pattern were brilliant, fairly leaping off the page in a desperate plea for help.
    Desperation.
    Gabby felt utterly alone at his side, shoved into a mold that she couldn’t even begin to fit into, and utterly ignored by his mother.
    He felt like a complete and utter cad watching her, entranced by her jolting, furious motions and the curves of her ripening body. Though he hadn’t had her since their first time, he’d longed for her every night. Inhaling the perfume of her freshly washed hair and listening to the soft timbre of her breathing was torture. Seeing her now, like this, he felt himself reacting powerfully, his erection tenting the front of his silk pajamas as breath came almost harshly.
    All at once, as if she sensed him, Gabrielle stopped mid motion, turning to fix him with Gray eyes full of frustration and loneliness. In a sudden fury, she tossed the brush across the room. Sebastian flinched when it hit the wall a foot from his head with a loud clatter, his mouth dry at the sight of his “wife’s” bare breasts.
    “How dare you.” The words escaped Gabrielle on a low, almost inaudible tone. “How dare you let her spout that bullshit day after day? She’s not the one having this baby, Sebastian, we are.” Groaning, the young woman drew her hands over her face and down her chest, streaking paint alluringly over her skin. “ I am .” She raised a hand to place protectively over her belly before turning from him. “Go back to bed.”
    In five quick strides, Sebastian spanned the room drawing her stiff form into his arms. Gabrielle fought him,struggling in vain against his superior strength, but after a moment of writhing, she sagged in his arms, her breath hitching on an unmistakable sob. The sound startled him.
    Gabrielle, despite her current unhappiness, struck him as a very strong woman. For her current situation to have brought her to tears… “I’m sorry.” He whispered against her neck, the smell of oil paint and strawberry shampoo drugging him. “I’m so sorry, Gabby.”
    “Are you?” She demanded, her voice trembling. “You say that, but when that woman comes to us tomorrow with some ridiculous plan for our child, are you going to challenge her?”
    “I will,” He promised lowly, his words firm. Though the promise brought him no small amount of trepidation, he knew something had to be done. What if Gabrielle became depressed? What if she got sick? She would lose the baby and that would do none of them any good. Sebastian found, now, that the thought of losing a child he’d come to at least start to view in the permanent realm disturbed him more than he’d like to