Free The Billionaire's Baby Bargain (A is for Alpha) by Shelli Stevens

admitted it.  
    Martha was also the same friend who’d insisted she take the pregnancy test. Chloe’d been getting sick for two weeks straight like clockwork, but had refused to consider what the symptoms could potentially mean.  
    Chloe had been reluctant to take it, because denying the possibility of a baby was really so much easier if she didn’t have proof. But now there was no ignoring it. She swept her hand over her belly where there was additional proof—her jeans were growing snug.
    A swell of panic and helplessness took root inside her. She knew the right thing to do was to inform Andrés. But just the idea of facing him again made everything within her recoil at the idea. And yet, you’re carrying his child.  
    Unlike when she was in Spain, she now knew exactly who Andrés Montero was. How she could’ve ever failed to recognize him in the first place was inexplicable. He was routinely found in business magazines and papers, often making headlines because of his ruthlessness in acquiring small resorts and hotels that were in financial woes and then transforming them into five-star luxury resorts.  
    And the tabloids went nuts trying to find out all they could about one of the sexiest, wealthiest bachelors in Europe. They followed him to all the public events. Analyzed any woman who appeared on his arm. She wondered how he’d ever taken her out in Valencia without such scrutiny.
    Andrés was power and magnetism personified. Women wanted him and men just wanted to be him. All she had to do was look at his picture and her pulse raced, her body tingled, and she was recreating all the feelings that had gotten her into trouble in the first place.  
    On her coffee table she had the latest issue of a gossip magazine, flipped to the page he was on. Andrés looked just as devastatingly handsome as when she’d met him at the resort over the summer. But what made her absolutely sick was the woman draped on his arm in this picture. Estella Martinez, the manager of Diablo’s Paraíso, was curled up against Andrés’ tall frame, her smile smug and her body spilled into a tight red dress.  
    While Chloe carried his child, Andrés had already moved on to another woman. But then, why would she expect anything else? It’s not as if their time together had meant anything to him. Her heart twisted, even while anger burned low in her gut.  
    For the briefest moment she considered not telling him. What could it hurt if he never knew? A shiver ran down her spine and she shook her head.
    Andrés was a ruthless man. When he’d believed she’d slept with him just to get a story for a magazine, he’d shredded her career as effortlessly as if he’d swatted a fly on the wall. If he found out she kept a baby from him…  
    He had a right to know. Which meant she’d have to find a way to contact him. Or at least find someone who could.
     
    Above the sounds of clinking glasses and the hired professional orchestra, Andrés vaguely heard the sound of his mobile ringing in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he murmured to the group standing in conversation around him, welcoming the interruption of yet another tedious social event.
    He strode briskly from the room and into an empty foyer, pulling his phone free while he walked.  
    “Pablo,” he greeted mildly.  
    “ Buenos noches, Señor . I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,” Pablo murmured. “However, I have received a message I feel you would want to be made aware of immediately.”
    It could have been a situation with one of his hotels, or something equally associated to the industry. And yet intuition pricked within him.  
    “What is it?”  
    “I just received word that Chloe Wilkinson is trying quite determinedly to locate you.”
    Andrés’s heart stuttered and his fingers tightened around the phone. Chloe. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a slow breath.  
    He had wanted to loathe her for her actions, but he hadn’t been able to rid her from his thoughts.