Twins For The Billionaire. Sarah M. Anderson

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       Prologue

      “So that’s it?” Eric Jenner stared at the private investigator’s report in his hand. The baby wasn’t his. Somehow, he’d known this would be the answer.

      Funny how it still hurt like hell.

      “That’s it.” The investigator stood. “Unless there was something else you needed?”

      Eric almost laughed. What did he need? He needed a happy ending to this whole mess. But it was clear he wasn’t going to get one. Not today. Maybe not ever.

      He gritted his teeth. Bad enough that he’d been stood up at the altar—literally. Six months later, the press was still having a field day with the photos of Eric looking stunned next to the priest. In front of six hundred wedding guests. In the Holy Name Cathedral.

      But this? He knew he couldn’t keep it quiet forever. Prudence had married less than two weeks after she’d left Eric at the altar. Apparently, it was true love. How else to explain Prudence running away with an accountant from her father’s company? Who’d fathered Prudence’s son and was, according to the PI’s account, making her the happiest woman in the world.

      Eric was thrilled for them. Really.

      He breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know,” he said to the investigator. The man nodded and left.

      Eric read the report again. Oddly, he didn’t miss Prudence. He didn’t lie awake in bed at night, missing her touch. He didn’t regret putting the condo he’d bought for her back on the market.

      He’d clearly dodged a bullet. Except for one small detail.

      That detail had been born at seven pounds, six ounces. He stared at the picture the investigator had included. The baby was bundled up in Prudence’s arms, his eyes closed and a little smile on his face. She’d named him Aaron.

      Something tightened in Eric’s chest. No, Eric didn’t miss Prudence at all. But...

      Everywhere he went, people had babies. Suddenly, he couldn’t avoid them. Even his oldest friend, Marcus Warren, had recently adopted a baby boy. After he’d married his assistant, of all people.

      Eric and Marcus had always competed with each other—who had made the first million (Eric), the first billion (Marcus), who had the finest cars (it changed all the time) or the biggest boat. Eric always won that one, hands down.

      It wasn’t like the contest was over. But the rules had changed and Eric wasn’t ready for this new game. He wasn’t ready to stand by as his best friend cooed over his son while his wife looked at them both with love in her eyes.

      It should have been nauseating.

      Eric and Marcus’s entire friendship was built on one-upmanship. But a loving wife and an adorable child?

      And now this news from Prudence was the final blow.

      One thing was clear. Eric had never lost this badly.

      To hell with this.

      He was Eric Jenner. He owned a quarter of the Chicago skyline, some of the most expensive properties in the world. He’d officially joined the exclusive ranks of billionaires. He was, he had been told, good-looking and good in bed. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t buy.

      What he needed now was distraction. The kind he’d find in the arms of someone new who’d drive thoughts of happy families far from his mind. He hadn’t lost anything. He was glad Prudence was gone—that marriage would have been a disaster. He’d gotten lucky. He wasn’t tied down. He could do whatever he wanted—and what he wanted was everything.

      The world was his for the taking. All he had to do was snap his fingers and whatever he wanted was his.

      Abruptly, he slammed the report shut and jammed it in the bottom drawer of his desk.

      Well.

      Almost anything.

      It turned out there were some things money couldn’t buy.