The Billionaire Prince’s Surprise Son by Leslie North

2

Summer shot a quick text to Nic. Just parked, be there in a second.

She hurried over to Cuppa Joe, one of her favorite coffee places. It wasn’t too far from the hospital, so she and Nic dashed over there for breakfast sandwiches and large coffees whenever their schedules synced up, which wasn’t often. That was why they were meeting, she assumed. The schedule had just been handed down, and they usually sat down once a week to see when they could block out time to be together. She was lucky enough to have the night off, and if he did too… well, she had some plans for what they could do to fill the time.

It had been two months. Two exciting, glorious months. Two months of longing glances and knowing smiles, of sneaking into the supply room to make out, of the occasional nights together that would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life. Sure, two months of an actual relationship wasn’t much in the scheme of things, much less two months of stolen moments, but it was the closest thing she’d had to being part of an actual couple in her entire life. She’d had the occasional fling here and there, always with guys she trusted, but never with guys who she felt she had any future with, and that was fine—her future was medicine. Her career was something she could count on.

Then she’d met Nic, with his midnight black hair and shocking, mesmerizing blue eyes, and she’d felt chemistry so strong she was surprised other people didn’t feel the heat of it coming off of them in waves.

No, more than chemistry. Connection. Their off-the-chart chemistry was evident in the heated glances and flirty banter, but it had been that first night that had convinced her that what they had was different. They hadn’t made any promises—they hadn’t needed to, and she didn’t want to jinx it. The future between them was uncertain, but they had a few months before their respective residencies ended, and they had to go their separate ways.

Maybe it was foolish, but she’d learned the hard way to value what she had, when she had it. Life was too short to do otherwise.

She saw Nic, sitting at the table, a cup of tea and a scone in front of him. She had yet to place his rich, sexy-as-hell accent, which wasn’t American. Still, she hadn’t pressed, because he disliked talking about his family or his past. Besides, it made life easier for her. She didn’t have to discuss her family, or rather her lack thereof, either.

Pushing it aside, she leaned down, giving him a quick kiss and a smile. “Hey, you.”

He smiled back, but a frisson of nerves skittered down her spine. This wasn’t the smile she was used to. She sat down, carefully.

“Hi,” he responded, his rich, deep voice still able to make her toes curl.

“Everything okay?”

He sighed heavily. “No, I’m afraid.”

She tensed more. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving the States.”

“What?” Now her stomach knotted. “When?”

“As soon as possible.” His expression was mournful, tinged with deep regret.

“As soon as…?” she echoed. “But… I thought… your residency isn’t up for months!”

She thought they’d have through Christmas, at least. She thought they had more time.

He shook his head. “Something came up. I need to go home for a bit, then I’ll be finishing my residency abroad.”

She blinked slowly, still in shock. “Oh.”

What does that mean for us?

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, and to his credit, his voice and his expression looked pained. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

“Of course.”

She waited. Waited for him to say something, anything, that might help the situation. Maybe suggest that they could—what? Skype? Text? Send carrier pigeons, for God’s sake?

But he wasn’t saying anything. He was just sitting there, sad and silent, staring at her.

“This is it, then, I guess.” She swallowed hard.

“I wish I could stay.”

She couldn’t stop herself, and she flinched. Unbidden, she was hit with memories.

It’s harder for older kids to get adopted, Summer.

This foster home is just temporary, Summer.

You’re a great girl… it’s not your fault.

She sat up straighter, pasting a smile on her face. “Well, it was fun while it lasted, right?”

God, that sounded bitter. More bitter than she’d meant it to. Possibly because, no matter how hard she’d tried to guard herself from it, their two-month interlude had somehow transcended fun and become more meaningful, whether she wanted it to or not.

He tilted his head. “Summer… I’m…” He took a deep breath.

She waited.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice sounding gruff.

It was like a hammer strike on an anvil, ringing in her head. The regret. The finality.

“Goodbye, Nic.” Her words were calm, almost numb. She got up slowly, pushing back her chair with care, deliberately turning away from him and his sorrowful expression, and those damned hypnotic blue eyes of his. She didn’t need his pity. Other café patrons were studying her with curiosity and concern. I don’t need their pity, either, she thought angrily. Her stomach railed, and her heart pounded as she somehow made it to her car without looking back.

She blinked hard to clear away the tears that flooded over as she pulled out of the parking space and rushed home. It wasn’t until she got into her own apartment and shut the door behind her that she really broke down, but not before texting her best friend, Rachel, a fellow resident at the hospital.

Rachel made it there in record time, grocery bag in hand. “Your text said 911,” she said, taking in Summer’s tear-stained face. “And you look like hell. Who do I have to kill?”

Summer let out a sob-tinged laugh. “Nic’s leaving.”

“Oh, crap.” Rachel quickly rushed over, hugging her. “No wonder you wanted ice cream. I thought he was staying until after the holidays?”

“Something came up.” Summer gulped, glancing in the bag. Rachel had brought over a selection of her favorites. Summer grabbed a pint of salted caramel ice cream and pulled out a spoon, quickly digging in.

“And he didn’t say anything else? Nothing about what came up, nothing about where he was going? Nothing about staying in touch?”

Summer’s stomach churned. She kept eating, waiting for the ice cream’s magical cheering powers to kick in. “I should’ve known he was too good to be true. Shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Rachel said, grabbing a pint of mint chocolate chip and a spoon of her own. “I always thought he was really into you. Anyone who saw the two of you together would’ve thought that.”

Summer shook her head. “I’m over it. I don’t need him.”

Or anyone.

Without warning, she felt her stomach lurch, hard. She dropped the ice cream and bolted to the bathroom, barely making it in time to throw up in the toilet.

“Oh, honey,” Rachel said, quickly holding her hair back. “You are upset.”

“I’ll get over it,” Summer croaked.

Somehow.

* * *

Three weeks later, Summer slammed the “end call” button with her thumb, grabbed a throw pillow, and screamed into it.

“Another dead end?” Rachel asked sympathetically.

Summer dropped the pillow. “Nobody has any idea where the guy went. It’s like he vanished into thin air!”

“He wasn’t really friends with anyone,” Rachel agreed. “I mean, other than you. I liked the guy, but…”

“I was sleeping with the man, and he wouldn’t tell me what country he was from!” Summer felt a combination of anger and the edge of panic creeping into her voice, and forced herself to calm down.

It’s not good for the baby.

“I tried everything just to figure out where he might’ve gone, but no one at the hospital would tell me anything. ‘Privacy issues’, yadda yadda. Even though I made it clear that this was an emergency.” She felt tears pricking at her eyes and blinked hard to force them back.

“That sucks,” Rachel agreed, “but I guess it is their job…”

“No. You know what sucks? Discovering that Nic Thomas isn’t even his real name.”

Now Rachel’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“No! I had to bribe Jenna from H.R. with a dozen cupcakes, but she told me that the higher-ups had made some kind of special dispensation for him, and that he’d insisted on complete anonymity!” Summer sank down into the couch. “Who does that?”

“That is bizarre.” Rachel got up, pouring them both a cup of ginger-lemon tea. It was helping to settle Summer’s stomach, and she accepted it gratefully. “Maybe… I don’t know. He was in witness protection or something?”

“At this point, I keep asking myself this: who was Nic?” Summer said, shaking her head. “I mean, if he couldn’t tell me any of the basics about where he was from, if he lied to me about his name, what else was he capable of?”

If he lied about that—had it all been a lie? Had she been wrong about the handsome, caring, wonderful man she’d given so much of herself to?

She rubbed her stomach absently. There was only the barest of bumps showing, but she knew it was just a matter of time.

“Have you made…” Rachel gestured to her stomach. “Any, uh, decisions?”

Summer closed her eyes for a second. “I’m keeping it,” she answered decisively. “No matter what.”

When she opened her eyes again, Rachel’s expression was sad. “You know I’ve got your back whatever you decide, but it’s going to be hard.”

“I know.” Summer sighed.

“Like, really hard,” Rachel pressed. “You’re still continuing your residency, and that means a lot of stress. And then there’s your actual practice. Juggling that with childcare…”

“I’ll figure it out.” It sounded like an oath. When Rachel still looked doubtful, Summer turned to her, trying to put as much emphasis as possible in her words. “When my parents died, I didn’t know how I was going to keep going. I was crushed. I loved them so much.”

“Aw, hon…” Rachel’s gaze was sympathetic, but Summer brushed the pity away.

“But I knew that they wouldn’t have left me if they could help it. That car accident wasn’t their fault. And I know they would’ve wanted me to keep going. So I did. Even when it was really hard,” Summer continued, tilting her chin up. “All I’ve wanted in life is to be a doctor, and to have a family like we had. My parents loved each other and me so much.”

“So even without Nic…”

Summer straightened her shoulders and took a sip of her tea. “Two out of three isn’t bad,” she said resolutely. “He could’ve been a part of this. He chose to leave. He chose to keep me in the dark and lie to me about who he was.”

She rubbed her stomach again, this time making a promise to herself and the little person growing inside her. “We don’t need him,” she emphasized. “This baby is going to know it’s loved every single day, and I’m going to do whatever I need to to keep it safe and happy.”

Rachel raised her mug in a toast. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Summer returned the salute. “And let’s make a deal, okay?” She sighed. “From now on, Nic is nonexistant.” She took another sip. “Let us never speak of him again.”

Rachel frowned. “But what about when the little bean there,” she gestured at Summer’s stomach, “wants to know about their daddy?”

Summer sighed. “When that day comes, I’ll figure something out,” she said, even as doubt nipped at her. “In the meantime, I am pretending that Nic Thomas—or whatever the man’s name really is—does not exist.”