The Billionaire’s Ward: McClellan Billionaires Book Three
McClellan Billionaires
The Billionaire’s Pregnant Assistant
The Billionaire Chef’s Baby
The Billionaire’s Ward
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, OCTOBER 2019
Copyright © 2019 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Vane McClellan is all business. He might come from money, but he’s worked hard to make his architecture firm one of the top in the country. But things have slammed to a halt in the wake of becoming guardian to Annabelle, his late cousin’s daughter. Vane fears Annabelle may need more than he can give her.
Maggie Stewart, Annabelle’s teacher, cares deeply for her students but likes to live footloose and fancy free. She’s about to move—again—but not before she gets Annabelle settled. They’ve grown close since the girl joined her class, and now Maggie has one final job: drop Annabelle off at Vane’s summer home.
When Maggie gets stranded at Vane’s vacation home, she gets a chance to see Vane vulnerable. The sight of a strong man doing his best in the face of new fatherhood melts her heart. When he asks her to stay and nanny Annabelle for the summer, Maggie agrees in hopes that she’ll be able to teach Vane how to be a father before her new job starts. Vane is happy to have someone he trusts to shepherd his young ward. As the three begin to become a family and Vane and Maggie give in to the passion that’s plagued them from day one, they’ll let themselves be something both have feared for a long time: happy. But when summer comes to an end, Vane and Maggie will have to decide if they want to follow their hearts...or their plans.
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(McClellan Billionaires Book Three)
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
End of The Billionaire’s Ward
Thank You!
About Leslie
Also by Leslie
1
All the kids were outside for recess. Inside the primary school, everything was quiet. Vane McClellan paused outside the classroom to straighten his tie. Maybe wearing a full suit to a parent-teacher—guardian-teacher, rather—conference was overkill, especially on a blisteringly hot June day like this. But getting invited to a conference three days before the end of the school year couldn’t be a good thing, and Vane knew he needed to make a good impression on Annabelle's teacher.
The click of high heels on the tiled hallway brought back memories... as well as the urge to duck around the corner before he got caught outside of his classroom. Which was completely illogical. He was a grown man, not a scared kid on his first day of boarding school.
The feeling of being a grown man lasted exactly as long as it took for him to enter the classroom and attempt to fold his six-foot-six-inch frame into one of the child-sized chairs. With his knees up near his chin, he didn't feel like an adult at all. And he definitely didn't feel like a parent.
“Ah! Mr. Bishop?” Annabelle's teacher shut the door to the classroom and gave him a wide smile.
Vane resisted the urge to shoot her a grin. She was definitely the hottest teacher he'd ever seen. Even the professional get-up she wore to teach wasn't enough to hide her compact, curvaceous body, and her legs made his mouth feel dry. Her blond hair was caught up in a high topknot, but at the end of a long, hot day a few wavy strands had escaped to tumble past her shoulders. Her smile was wide and open, but her eyes had a cat-like tilt to them that made looking right at her distracting. But she was also about to yell at him about the shitty job he was doing parenting Annabelle. He turned away, and looked out the window.
“It's Mr. McClellan, actually,” he corrected gently. He'd made that same correction nearly every single day since he'd enrolled Annabelle in fourth grade here. “I'm not her dad, I'm her guardian. Her dad was my cousin.”
The teacher smacked her head. “Of course. I'm an idiot. Of course, I remember.” She held out her hand for him to shake, and he had to shift his limbs around awkwardly to accept it. “Maggie Stewart. I'm Annabelle's teacher. I see you at drop-off, but I don't think we've ever been formally introduced. Thanks for coming in.”
“Of course. Is everything okay?” It was a stupid question, he knew. Of course it wasn't okay. He knew he was barely holding it together for his niece. The fact that she'd been sent to live with him after Colby died—Vane still couldn't believe his cousin's cancer had progressed that quickly—had been a surprise to them both. Fatherhood was not something that came easily to him, and he was piling up mistake after mistake. He cleared his throat. “If you're going to bring up me putting her in private school again, I've already been over this.”
Miss Stewart leaned across her desk. Wait, was she a Miss? Or a Mrs.? Or Ms.? Dammit, he could never remember. He snuck a glance at her left hand. Miss or Ms., then. Cool. Very, very cool.
Miss Stewart clasped her hands together “No, that's not why I asked you here at all.” Vane looked out the window rather than give in to the temptation to sneak a peek at her pretty spectacular cleavage. “The end of the school year trip is this Wednesday, and I know that Annabelle really wants to go.” Her smile seemed genuine enough, but Vane still bristled. “But you haven't signed the permission slip yet.”
“I know. That's on purpose.”
She sighed. “Well, I called you in to see if I can allay any fears you might have about the trip. It's fully supervised, with one adult for every five kids. We're not going far, just to the amusement park, and dinner will be provided. The teachers take turns grilling—it's really quite an event.”
“I'm sure it's fine,” Vane interrupted with a sigh. Dammit, it felt like he was always saying no when it came to Annabelle. “But Annabelle can't go because I've had a renovation come up at the last minute.”
Her eyebrows arched up. “That's right. You're an architect, correct?”
He nodded. “I'm renovating a historic property, and a contractor just became available last minute. It's a tight timeframe given the season, so we need to start ASAP. Annabelle and I will be headed there first thing Wednesday morning.”
She ran her tongue along her teeth, a move that Vane knew wasn't meant to be sexy but seemed all the more so for
how unconscious it was. “I can appreciate you're in a bind with your work and all that, Mr. McClellan—”
“Vane. Please call me Vane, Miss Stewart. Ms.”
She wrinkled her nose adorably. “Maggie, then. Okay, Vane, like I said, I understand your time crunch. But Annabelle only just started with us here at Fairlawn. She was so shy in the beginning, it's been really wonderful to see her blossom and make friends.”
Vane gripped his knees. Every word she said sent a stab of guilt through him. “Is that true? Because from the sound of the notes you send home, everything is terrible.”
Maggie pursed her lips. “Those notes are meant to pass on information. Not judgment.”
“Could have fooled me,” he snapped.
She narrowed her eyes. “We're on the same side here, Mr....Vane. We both want what's best for Annabelle.”
“Right. And as her guardian, I'm trying to do exactly that.”
She kept talking right over him. “And I feel like denying her the closure of this trip, a chance to say goodbye to her friends before you move her to a new school?” She spread her hands in a gesture of surrender.
Vane turned away. A chance to say goodbye. Closure. These were words that were brought up nearly every time he talked with another adult about Annabelle. Her doctor. Her nanny. Her therapist. His brother when Vane balked at the idea of Colby having an open casket funeral. “She needs to have closure and a chance to say goodbye.” He'd been bending over backwards to give her that for the past nine months, and it still didn't feel like enough. When would he stop feeling like he was failing her in every way?
“Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk here,” he told Maggie, even though he was pretty sure she thought he was a jerk any way. “It's a matter of bad timing. That's it.”
He tried for a smile. It probably looked like he was grimacing, he realized. Or baring his teeth. He was at the end of his rope, and he looked like it. Every glance in the mirror confirmed it. Bags under his eyes. A haunted look. Maggie probably thought this was just a vanity project for him. Billionaire architect can't stop working long enough to make a little child happy; he knew how this script went. But the truth was, he and Annabelle both needed this renovation. It wasn't just a historic property, it was the McClellan beach house, where he'd made his happiest childhood memories. It was quiet, away from the stress of the city and the demands of his job. He and Annabelle could connect there, he hoped. Maybe she could start making some happy childhood memories of her own.
“Is that it then?” he asked Maggie, making to rise from his seat. “Are we all squared up on why Annabelle isn't going on the trip?”
“You can't push out your plans just one day?”
“I need to be there to greet the contractor when he arrives. It's just not possible.” He unfolded himself and extended his hand without looking at her. “Thank you for your concern though—”
She gabbed his hand and yanked it towards her hard enough to knock him off balance. Startled, he glanced at her face. Her eyes were wide, blazing at him with such fierce intensity that it unnerved him. Up to this point, she'd just been another pretty face, but now he could see the fiery passions that burned under her bubbly exterior.
“What if I bring her to you?” she asked, in a wholly different tone of voice than the perky teacher-speak from before. “She trusts me. We have a bond. What if after the trip, I drive her to meet you?”
“You would do that?”
She nodded. “Of course. I love Annabelle. I'd be happy to help.”
Vane could hardly believe what he was hearing. Maggie was one of those people who let their emotions blaze out from their faces. The naked honesty he saw in her eyes made his head spin. “There's a storm,” he warned, gently pulling his hand from hers. “Supposed to be coming up the coast that night.”
“Oh, they like to hype those up, but they never amount to much.” She nodded slowly at first, then faster. “Yes, this will totally work!” she cried, clapping her hands together. “What do you say?”
Are you for real? That's what Vane wanted to say. Are you real? Nobody should be this excited about playing chauffeur. Nobody should look like the idea of driving up the coast in a storm was the start of a grand adventure.
But Maggie's eyes were shining, and Vane already felt like he'd been enough of a negative jerk for one day. “Okay, well, thank you,” he said, ignoring the warning twist in his gut. “I know Annabelle wants to go on this trip, and she does trust you.”
“Do you trust me?” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at him quizzically.
To his surprise, he nodded. “I do. You're her teacher. Plus,” he chuckled. “I know where you work.”
She laughed. “Not for long. Wednesday is my last day here, too.”
“Is that right?” Now that it was decided, Vane wanted nothing more than to slip away while it was still going well. “How about that.”
“I start a new job in the fall.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “Teaching in rural Alaska. A five-year post.”
“Nice. Stability is good.”
She laughed. “So they say. But I've never stayed in one place for that long.”
“Really?” That sounded awful.
She shrugged and then smiled brightly. “So that'll be an adventure, right? Trying something new and all.”
Vane blew out a long sigh. “Sure,” he said dully. No, thank you. Every day since he'd found himself awkwardly driving a sullen Annabelle back to his house had been an adventure. He was frankly sick of it. Screw trying new things. He'd give everything for things to just stay the same for a while.
2
“Oh, I love this song!” Annabelle squealed from the back seat of Maggie's car. “I know all the words too!”
“Let's hear them then!” Maggie laughed as she turned up the volume. The preteen raised her voice into a keening falsetto to mimic the pop diva's vocal acrobatics. “Never gonna love a brother—”
“Another, sweetheart. She's saying she's never going to love another.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror to see Annabelle furrowing her brow thoughtfully. The little girl was at that strange stage that Maggie loved most about teaching fourth grade. She was still a child, with her fine, sandy brown hair, rosy cheeks, and the faint ghost of dimples, but her face held hints of the person she was growing into. The serious, straight brows, the nose just a touch too big for her face. Girls her age were wild things, always ready for an adventure, and Maggie felt she understood them better than she did most adults.
“I don't get it," she complained.
“Never mind. You will when you're older. Now come on! Keep singing, you have such a pretty voice!”
Annabelle looked delighted and obediently raised her voice again. It felt good to hear her sing, Maggie thought. It had felt good to see her smile and laugh and hug all her friends today, too.
“I can't believe you're not exhausted,” she told her as they sped up the coast to the address Vane had given her. “You did so much today.”
“I know, but I'm not even tired.” She yawned, and Maggie hid her laughter behind her hand. “I'm so wired, I bet I'm going to be up past midnight. Uncle Vane is gonna freak.”
“Freak, huh?” Maggie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “What does he say when he freaks, exactly?”
“He says, 'You need your sleep, you're still growing.'“ She dropped her voice and waggled her finger in imitation. “‘You won't have a good day tomorrow if you don't get go to sleep right now.’”
Maggie laughed. “That doesn't sound like freaking to me, Annabelle. It sounds like he's worried about you having a good day.”
“I gu-essss.” She harrumphed and turned to the window. Maggie watched her for a second, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.
It had seemed like the most brilliant idea she'd ever had to offer to bring Annabelle to the beach house after the trip. Mr. McClellan had looked so tired and so unhappy in her classroom, and she'd nev
er been able to resist putting a smile on people's faces. Offering to help him had been automatic. She was sure he'd smile and be relieved, maybe even grateful.
Instead, he'd just sighed and agreed, scrawled his signature on the permission slip, then left her classroom. Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek. The embarrassment was just as fresh now as it had been at their meeting. Once again, she'd read him completely wrong.
She'd never had this problem before. It had always been easy to make people like her. And Vane McClellan, with those sharp cheekbones and dark, brooding eyes, was someone she really wanted to like her. Maybe more than just like, if she was being truthful with herself.
It would be nice if she and Vane could have at least one encounter where she didn't feel like she was attacking him. That was another reason she'd offered to do this. For the sake of her sanity, she needed to have one encounter with Vane McClellan that didn't end with him getting defensive. Up to now, every phone call, every note home, every email, and now even their face-to-face meeting had been so confrontational.
The fact that he seemed to regard her as an adversary was confusing. And frankly maddening. And she needed to fix it.
“It's gonna storm,” Annabelle announced from the back seat, sounding worried.
“There's no reason to be scared,” Maggie soothed. “It won't hurt you.”
“I know it won't hurt me.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “I just don't like them. I hate loud noises.”