Rags To Riches Baby

The woman he can never trust is having his baby...

When Lucy Campbell inherits a multimillion-dollar Manhattan estate, her employer’s nephew sees only a gold-digging scammer. But even with battle lines drawn, CEO Oliver Drake can’t resist the temptation of bedding the very woman he’s trying to expose! Then Lucy delivers her shocking baby news. Does she genuinely desire a future together? Or is it another ploy that could destroy Oliver’s trust forever?

ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning author of contemporary romances filled with seduction and sass. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she was young. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she is thrilled to share her special blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with readers.

Also available by Andrea Laurence

Snowed In with Her Ex

Thirty Days to Win His Wife

One Week with the Best Man

A White Wedding Christmas

What Lies Beneath

More Than He Expected

His Lover’s Little Secret

The CEO’s Unexpected Child

Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant

The Pregnancy Proposition

The Baby Proposal

Visit millsandboon.co.uk for more information.

Rags to Riches Baby

Andrea Laurence

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07617-3

RAGS TO RICHES BABY

© 2018 Andrea Laurence

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Dr. Shelley—

Thanks for dusting off your MoMA catalog and helping

me navigate the modern art references for this book.

I never would’ve found those pieces on my own. I also

never expected to find myself watching a YouTube

video of naked women in blue paint pressing against

a canvas while a string quartet played. Your suggestions

were perfect for the book! Thank you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Extract

One

“And to Lucy Campbell, my assistant and companion, I bequeath the remainder of my estate, including the balances of my accounts and financial holdings and the whole of my personal effects, which entails my art collection and my apartment on Fifth Avenue.”

When the attorney stopped reading the will of Alice Drake aloud, the room was suddenly so quiet Lucy wondered if the rest of the Drake family had dropped dead as well at the unexpected news. She kept waiting for the lawyer to crack a smile and tell the crowd of people around the conference room table that he was just kidding. It seemed highly inappropriate to do to a grieving family, though.

Surely, he had to be kidding. Lucy was no real estate expert, but Alice’s apartment alone had to be worth over twenty million dollars. It overlooked the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It had four bedrooms and a gallery with a dozen important works, including an original Monet, hanging in it. Lucy couldn’t afford the monthly association fees for the co-op, much less own an apartment like that in Manhattan.

“Are you serious?” a sharp voice cut through the silence at last.

Finally, someone was asking the question that was on the tip of her own tongue. Lucy turned toward the voice and realized it was her best friend Harper Drake’s brother, Oliver. Harper had helped Lucy get this job working for her great-aunt, but she’d never met Harper’s brother before today. Which was odd, considering she’d cared for their aunt for over five years.

It was a shame. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in real life and since he was across the conference table from her, she had a great view. Harper was a pretty woman, but the same aristocratic features on Oliver were striking in a different way. They both had the same wavy brown hair, sharp cheekbones and pointed chins, but he had the blue-gray eyes and permanently furrowed brow of their father. His lips were thinner than Harper’s, but she wasn’t sure if they were always like that or if they were just pressed together in irritation at the moment.

His gaze flicked over Lucy, and she felt an unexpected surge of desire run down her spine. The tingle it left in its wake made a flush rise to her cheeks and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t know if it was the surprising news or his heavy appraisal of her, but it was suddenly warm in the small conference room. Lucy reached for the button at the collar of her blouse and undid it as quickly as she could, drawing in a deep breath.

Unfortunately, that breath was scented with the sharp cologne of the man across from her. It teased at her nose, making the heat in her belly worsen.

It was painfully apparent that she’d spent far too many years in the company of a ninety-plus-year-old woman. One handsome man looked at her, and she got all flustered. Lucy needed to pull herself together. This was not the time to get distracted, especially when the man in question was anything but an ally. She closed her eyes for a moment and was relieved to find when she’d reopened them that Oliver had returned his focus to the attorney.

Yes, Lucy definitely would’ve remembered if he’d stopped by to visit. Actually, she hadn’t met any of these people before Alice died and they all started showing up to the apartment. She recognized a few of them from pictures on the mantel, but they hadn’t visited Alice when she was alive that Lucy was aware of. And Alice certainly hadn’t gone to see them. She was ninety-three when she died and still an eccentric free spirit despite confining herself to her apartment for decades. Lucy had been drawn to her radically different beat, but not everyone would be. She’d thought perhaps Alice’s family just didn’t “get” her.

Judging by the stunned and angry looks on their faces, they all seemed to think they were much closer to Aunt Alice than they truly were.

“Really, Phillip. Is this some sort of a joke?” This time it was Thomas Drake, Harper and Oliver’s father and Alice’s nephew, who spoke. He was an older version of Oliver, with gray streaks in his hair and a distinguished-looking beard. It didn’t hide his frown, however.

Phillip Glass, Alice’s attorney and executor of her estate, shook his head with a grim expression on his face. He didn’t look like the joking kind. “I’m sorry, but I’m very serious. I discussed this with Alice at length when she decided to make the change to her will earlier this year. I had hoped she spoke with all of you about her wishes, but apparently, that is not the case. All of you were to receive a monetary gift of fifty thousand dollars each, but she was very clear that everything else was to go to Lucy.”

“She must’ve been suffering from dementia,” a sour-looking woman Lucy didn’t recognize said from the far end of the table.

“She was not!” Lucy retorted, suddenly feeling defensive where Alice was concerned. She’d had a bad heart and a fondness for good wines and cheeses, but she wasn’t at all impaired mentally. Actually, for her age, she was in amazing shape up until her death.

“Of course you would say that!” the woman retorted with a red flush to her face. “She was obviously losing her senses when she made these changes.”

“And how would you know?” Lucy snapped. “Not a one of you set foot in her apartment for the five years I’ve cared for her. You have no idea how she was doing. You only came sniffing around when it was time to claim your part of her estate.”

The older woman clutched her pearls, apparently aghast that Lucy would speak to her that way. Lucy didn’t care. She wouldn’t have these people besmirching Alice after her death when they didn’t know anything about how wonderful she was.

Harper reached out and gripped Lucy’s forearm. “It’s okay, Lucy. They’re just surprised and upset at the news. They’ll get over it.”

“I will not get over it!” the woman continued. “I can’t believe you’re taking the help’s side in this, Harper. She’s basically stealing your inheritance right out from under you!”

“The help?” Harper’s voice shot up an octave before Lucy could respond. The time for calm had instantly passed. “Wanda, you need to apologize right now. I will not have you speaking about my friend that way. Aunt Alice obviously felt Lucy was more than just an employee as well, so you should treat her with the same respect.”

Lucy started to shut down as Alice’s relatives fought amongst themselves. The last few days of her life had been hard. Finding Alice’s body, dealing with the funeral and having her life upended all at once had been too much on its own. That was the risk of being a live-in employee. Losing her client meant losing her friend, her job and her home.

And now she found herself in the middle of the Drake family money battle. Lucy wasn’t one for conflict to begin with, and this was the last thing she’d anticipated when she’d been asked to come today. At best, she thought perhaps Alice had left her a little money as a severance package until she could find a new job and a place to live. She had no real idea how much Alice was worth, but from the reactions of the family, she’d been left more than a little money. Like millions.

For a girl who’d grown up poor and gone to college on a scholarship and a prayer, it was all too much to take in at once. Especially when Oliver’s steely blue eyes returned to watching her from across the table. He seemed to look right through her skin and into her soul. She felt the prickle of goose bumps rise across her flesh at the thought of being so exposed to him, but she immediately tried to shelve the sense of self-awareness he brought out in her. If he was studying her, it was only to seek out a weakness to exploit or an angle to work. He might be Harper’s brother, but he was obviously no friend to Lucy.

The spell was finally broken as he casually turned away to look at his sister. “I know she’s your friend, Harper, but you have to admit there’s something fishy about this whole thing.” Oliver’s rich baritone voice drew Lucy back into the conversation.

“Fishy, how?” Lucy asked.

“I wouldn’t blame you for influencing her to leave you something. You’re alone with her day after day. It would be easy to drop hints and convince her it was her idea to leave you everything.” Oliver’s blue eyes narrowed at her again, nearly pinning Lucy to the back of her leather chair with his casual accusation.

“Are you serious?” She repeated his earlier question. “I had no idea about any of this. We never discussed her will or her money. Not once in five years. I didn’t even know why Phillip called me in here today. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” Wanda muttered.

“Please, folks,” Phillip interjected. “I realize this is a shock to all of you. I wish I could say something to make things better, but the bottom line is that this is what Alice wanted. Feel free to retain a lawyer if you’re interested in challenging the will in court, but as it stands, Lucy gets everything.”

Wanda pushed up from her seat and slung her Hermès purse dramatically over her arm. “You bet I’m calling my attorney,” she said as she headed for the door. “What a waste of a fortune!”

The rest of the family shuffled out behind her until it was only Harper, Lucy and Phillip sitting at the table.

“I’m sorry about all that, Lucy,” the attorney said. “Alice should’ve prepared the family so this wasn’t such a shock to them. She probably avoided it because they’d have pressured her to change it back. With this crowd, I’d anticipate a fight. That means you won’t be able to sell the apartment and most of the accounts will likely be frozen until it’s resolved in court. Alice put a stipulation into the will that authorizes me to maintain all the expenses for the apartment and continue paying you and the housekeeper in the event the will is contested, so you won’t have to worry about any of that. I’ll do my best to get some cash available for you before her family files, but don’t go spending a bunch of it right away.”

Lucy couldn’t imagine that was possible. She’d made a lot of wealthy friends while at Yale, but she’d always been the thrifty one in the group by necessity. Thankfully, her sorority sisters Violet, Emma and Harper had never treated her any differently.

Having her penniless circumstances change so suddenly seemed impossible. Nearly every dime she made from working for Alice went into savings for her to finish school. She wouldn’t even know what she’d do with money in her accounts that wasn’t earmarked for something else.

“Wanda is full of hot air,” Harper said. “She’ll complain but she won’t lay out a penny of her own money to contest the will. More than likely, they’ll all sit back and let Oliver handle it.”

Lucy frowned. “Your brother seemed really angry. Is he going to take it out on you?”

Harper snorted. “No. He knows better. Oliver will leave the battle to the courtroom. But don’t be surprised if he shows up at the apartment ready to give you the third degree. He’s a seasoned businessman, so he’ll be on the hunt for any loophole he can exploit.”

Lucy’s first thought was that she wouldn’t mind Harper’s brother visiting, but his handsome face wouldn’t make up for his ill intentions. He intended to overturn Alice’s wishes and was probably going to be successful. Lucy didn’t have the means to fight him. She could blow every penny she’d saved on attorneys and still wouldn’t have enough to beat a man with his means. It was a waste of money anyway. Things like this just didn’t happen to women like her. The rich got richer, after all.

That did beg the question she was afraid to ask while the others were still around. “Phillip, Alice and I never really discussed her finances. How much money are we talking about here?”

Phillip flipped through a few papers and swallowed hard. “Well, it looks like between the apartment, her investments, cash accounts and personal property, you’re set to inherit about five hundred million dollars, Lucy.”

Lucy frowned and leaned toward the attorney in confusion. “I—I’m sorry, I think I heard you wrong, Phillip. Could you repeat that?”

Harper took Lucy’s hand and squeezed it tight. “You heard him correctly, Lucy. Aunt Alice was worth half a billion dollars and she’s left most of it to you. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but congratulations. It couldn’t happen to a better person.”

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat, the words stolen from her lips. That wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t possible. It was like her numbers were just called in the lotto. The odds were stacked against a woman like her—someone who came from nothing and was expected to achieve even less. Half a billion? No wonder Alice’s family was upset.

The help had just become a multimillionaire.

* * *

So that was the infamous Lucy Campbell.

Oliver had heard plenty about her over the years from his sister and in emails from his aunt. For some reason, he’d expected her to be more attractive. Instead, her hair was a dark, mousy shade of dishwater blond, her nails were in need of a manicure and her eyes were too big for her face. He was pretty sure she was wearing a hand-me-down suit of Harper’s.

All in all, she seemed incredibly ordinary for someone with her reputation. Aunt Alice was notoriously difficult to impress and she’d written at length about her fondness for Lucy. He’d almost been intrigued enough to pay a visit and learn more about her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been as disappointed.

She had freckles. Actual freckles. He’d never known anyone with freckles before. He’d only remained calm in the lawyer’s office by trying to count the sprinkle of them across her nose and cheeks. He wondered how many more there were. Were they only on her face, or did they continue across her shoulders and chest?

He’d lost count at thirty-two.

After that, he’d decided to focus on the conversation. He’d found himself responding to her in a way he hadn’t anticipated when he first laid eyes on her. The harder he looked, the more he saw. But then she turned her gaze back on him and he found the reciprocal scrutiny uncomfortable. Those large, doe eyes seemed so innocent and looked at him with a pleading expression he didn’t care for. It made him feel things that would muddy the situation.

Instead, Oliver decided he was paying far too much attention to her and she didn’t deserve it. She was a sneaky, greedy liar just like his stepmother and he had no doubt of it. Harper didn’t see it and maybe Alice didn’t either, but Oliver had his eyes wide open. Just like when his father had fallen for Candace with her pouty lips and fake breasts, Oliver could see through the pretty facade.

Okay, so maybe Lucy was pretty. But that was it. Just pretty. Nothing spectacular. Certainly nothing like the elegant, graceful women that usually hung on his arm at society events around Manhattan. She was more like the cute barista at the corner coffee shop that he tipped extra just because she always remembered he liked extra foam.

Yeah, that. Lucy was pretty like that.

He couldn’t imagine her rubbing elbows with the wealthy and esteemed elite of New York City. There was new money, and then there was the kind of person who never should’ve had it. Like a lottery winner. That was a fluke of luck and mathematics, but it didn’t change who the person really was or where they belonged. He had a hard time thinking Manhattan high society would accept Lucy even with millions at her disposal.

His stepmother, Candace, had been different. She was young and beautiful, graceful with a dancer’s build. She could hold her own with the rich crowd as though she’d always belonged there. Her smile lit up the room and despite the fact that she was more than twenty years younger, Oliver’s father had been drawn to her like a fly to honey.

Oliver looked up and noticed his driver had arrived back at his offices. It was bad enough he had to leave in the middle of the day to deal with his aunt’s estate. Returning with fifty thousand in his pocket was hardly worth the time he’d lost.

“Thank you, Harrison.” Oliver got out of the black sedan and stepped onto the curb outside of Orion headquarters. He looked at the brass plaque on the wall declaring the name of the company his father had started in the eighties. Tom Drake had been at the forefront of the home computer boom. By the turn of the new millennium, one out of every five home computers purchased was an Orion.

Then Candace happened and it all fell apart.

Oliver pushed through the revolving doors and headed to his private elevator in the far corner of the marble-and-brass-filled lobby. Orion’s corporate offices occupied the three top floors of the forty-floor high-rise he’d purchased six years earlier. As he slipped his badge into the slot, it started rocketing him past the other thirty-nine floors to take him directly to the area outside the Orion executive offices.

Production and shipping took place in a facility about fifteen miles away in New Jersey. There, the latest and greatest laptops, tablets and smartphones produced by his company were assembled and shipped to stores around the country.

Everyone had told Oliver that producing their products in the US instead of Asia or Mexico was crazy. That they’d improve their stock prices by going overseas and increase their profit margins. They said he should move their call centers to India like his competitors.

He hadn’t listened to any of them, and thankfully, he’d had a board that backed his crazy ideas. It was succeed or go home by the time his father handed over the reins of the company. He’d rebuilt his father’s business through ingenuity, hard work and more than a little luck.

When the elevator doors opened, Oliver made his way to the corner suite he took over six years ago. That was when Candace disappeared and his father decided to retire from Orion to care for their two-year-old son she’d left behind.

Oliver hated to see his father’s heart broken, and he didn’t dare say that he’d told him so the minute Candace showed up. But Oliver had known what she was about from the beginning.

Lucy was obviously made from the same cloth, although instead of romancing an older widower, she’d befriended an elderly shut-in without any direct heirs.

His aunt Alice had always been different and he’d appreciated that about her, even as a child. After she decided to lock herself away in her fancy apartment, Oliver gifted her with a state-of-the-art laptop and set her up with an email address so they could stay in touch. He’d opted to respect her need to be alone.

Now he regretted it. He’d let his sister’s endorsement of Lucy cloud his judgment. Maybe if he’d stopped by, maybe if he’d seen Lucy and Alice interact, he could’ve stopped this before it went too far.

Oliver threw open the door to his office in irritation, startling his assistant.

“Are you okay, Mr. Drake?” Monica asked with wide eyes.

Oliver frowned. He didn’t need to lose his cool at work. Letting emotions affect him would be his father’s mistake, and look what that had done. “I am. I’m sorry, Monica.”

“I’m sorry about your aunt. I saw an article about her in the paper that said she’d locked herself in her apartment for almost twenty years. Was that true?”