The Billionaire’s Pregnant One-night Stand: Durand Billionaire Brothers, #2

By Leslie North

It was just one night of passion. But it led to something more…

When a barroom brawl leads to an ultimatum from his grandfather, billionaire Bastien Durand finds himself neck deep in a community service arrangement. Bastien, reluctantly, agrees to mentor a salon owner whose business is struggling.

But when he goes to meet the owner, he realizes he's already met—and slept with—the very beautiful, and very pregnant Elise Davies. Elise contacted his grandfather to find Bastien. And now the young billionaire doesn't know what's more terrifying: being a father, or falling in love…

When a pipe breaks in Elise's salon, where she's also been living, Bastien convinces her to move in with him—temporarily. Elise, with no other option, agrees, and despite her better judgement, it isn't long before she's having steamy dreams of rekindling her passion with her former fling. But Bastien is a bad boy billionaire… Not exactly the kind of guy who falls in love with a curvy hair stylist.

Bastion wants to prove himself, and do the right thing for their child. But will that be enough for Elise… or does her heart demand more?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215921401

Book preview

1

The Canonbury Bombshell Salon was nothing like Bastien Durand had imagined it would be. When his grandfather, the uber-wealthy Laurent Durand, had tasked him with financially reviving the struggling salon, he’d imagined a shabby, perhaps even shuttered space. But the storefront welcomed him with clean, red brick and a bright blue awning that bore the salon’s logo in white script. Inside, sparkling chandeliers and fairy lights and the pleasant scent of floral shampoos greeted him. Bombshell was hopping with clients, several waiting in the lounge area, all looking rather posh and fashionable.

Financial ruin?

Bombshell wasn’t the type of salon he would frequent to grab a haircut, but its charm was not lost on him. This community service project, as Laurent had called the task, was going to be a breeze. Money was Bastien’s thing, and he’d made a name for himself—as well as a hefty sum of cash—by investing his time and expertise in start-up businesses to get them off the ground and help them thrive. Getting Bombshell back up to snuff would be no problem. He was already looking forward to proving to his grandfather that while he enjoyed partying in his free time, he was all business when it came to work.

He walked up to the front desk, and a striking young woman, tall with long, inky hair and deep blue eyes, approached him from a nearby workstation.

Welcome to Bombshell. How can I help you? she asked.

I’m here to see the owner, he said. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the blare of music and women’s chatter. Does she happen to be here?

The dark-haired woman flashed him a gleaming, toothy smile. Sure. I’ll go get Elise. You can have a seat in the lounge.

Thank you, he said. He couldn’t help a bit of disappointment that this woman wasn’t Elise. Her almond-shaped eyes were the most unique shade of blue, and her body curved and swayed in all the right places. As she walked away, he allowed himself to take in the view, until she turned around and caught him looking.

An impish grin fell over her face, and she raised one eyebrow. Help yourself to a beverage if you like. There’s coffee, tea, bottled water. She locked her eyes onto his, then seductively ran her tongue across her upper lip. Bastien shivered. Be right back, she said and walked away.

She’s definitely into me.

But he wasn’t here to pick up women. He was here to complete his community service project for his grandfather, and he had no room for error. Although he would have enjoyed nothing more than to lay on the charm and have some fun with the seductive goddess, he had to get down to business.

After the brothers got into a bar fight and smeared the Durand family name in the papers, his grandfather was threatening to rescind his trust fund. Not that he needed the money. His career in hedge funds had set him up for the rest of his life, but still—that money was from his parents. It was all they’d left him when they’d died, and he didn’t want Laurent to take that away from him. He had to play nice and do as his grandfather had asked—help the poor salon owner rejuvenate her failing business.

There would be another dark-haired seductive goddess. Several, most likely. Women were easy for him to seduce. Being taken seriously by his grandfather was not.

Bastien looked up to see two stylists—a short woman with reddish hair and large breasts and a tall, thin, boyish blonde—in a heated discussion next to their swivel chairs. One of them pointed to him. He wondered what the hell they were arguing about. They walked toward him.

So, Miranda and I are arguing over who should cut you. The blonde placed a hand on her waist and jutted her hip to the side.

Bastien tried to stifle a grin. Oh, well, I’m not—

Jules thinks she’s top, but I’m much better with men, said the redhead, glaring at her coworker.

Oh, please. Jules rolled her eyes. You do have quite the reputation with men, Miranda, but it’s not because of your scissors.

Ouch.

Ladies, I’m not—

Jealous much, Jules? Miranda asked, then turned to Bastien. Why don’t you just follow me to my chair. I’ll do you up right.

I bet you will, you—

Bastien was starting to sweat when a tiny, curly-haired woman dressed in a black sheath dress and leggings approached. As she pushed between the two stylists, the air around him was suddenly fragrant with the smell of what must have been her perfume—vanilla and lilac. Miranda and Jules, both of their faces red as tomatoes, quieted.

I’m the owner, the pretty woman said to him. Elise. She stared at him expectantly, her eyes digging into his like two sharp spades. Did he detect a hint of coldness there? Ivy said you were here.

Uh, Bastien stumbled, wordless for a moment and stuck in the bright green eyes of this woman whose halo of golden curls bounced around her face every time she moved. She seemed so familiar. He racked his brain. How did he know her?

I’m—

Bastien Durand. Flatly, she said the words for him, and suddenly it all came back to him. No wonder he sensed her dislike.

Five months ago. London. Jonathan’s stag party.

The techno music pulsing, the shots going down like sugar syrup, bodies swaying against each other on the dancefloor.

Green eyes finding his in the sea of people.

I’m Elise, she’d said.

Instant chemistry.

Sneaking off from the party to his hotel room, clothes peeling away, hot skin, hotter sex.

He’d hated to uncurl his body from hers when the first light snuck beneath the curtains, but he’d had no choice.

He had to be on the seven-a.m. train to make a meeting with a high-stakes investor that afternoon.

He remembered leaving his card on the nightstand with a note that said to call him and rushing from the room. He’d felt guilty for not saying goodbye and had wondered about her a few times since then. When he never heard from her, he figured she wasn’t interested, which was okay with him. As much as he would have loved to see her again, he certainly wasn’t looking for commitment. He didn’t even know her last name, for God’s sake.

But now here she was.

How had he not recognized her at first sight? Was it the hair?

He studied her appearance.

That was it—she’d changed her hair color to blonde.

Elise. Her name fell from his lips, and then he cleared his throat. Typically, he researched every client before meeting with them, but out of defiance and pride he hadn’t looked into the details of this project his grandfather had thrown into his lap. Surely, Laurent was having a field day imagining him walking into Elise’s salon blind. Bastien kicked himself for not doing his homework. I…I didn’t realize you own this salon.

I do, she said matter-of-factly.

It’s lovely, he said. He had to dig deep for the right words to say. The shock of seeing her here lined his throat, making it hard for him to get the words out once he found them. His eyes fluttered over her face and down her body until they stopped on her belly, where an obvious bump threw him for the biggest loop yet. He gasped, and the saliva from his throat flew down the wrong pipe, his spit choking him and making him cough.

We have water in the waiting area, if you need some, she said coolly, her eyes betraying nothing.

He swallowed and pushed the panic into his belly. No, he managed. I don’t need water. He couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering back to her baby bump. Could Elise be carrying his child? The possibility sent chills up his back and down his arms. He shook it off and faced her. I’m okay.

Good, she said. Why don’t you follow me to my office then?

She turned and led the way, and Bastien found himself following her down the dimly lit hallway toward the back of the salon, his legs numb but moving robotically, step-by-step. Elise stopped in front of a half-open door and gestured for him to enter.

Have a seat, she said.

He sat down in a swivel chair opposite an antique-looking desk with his back to the door. The office was tiny, more like a walk-in closet, and dominated by the large desk. A monstrous computer that appeared to be from the last century sat atop the desk, papers strewn around it. The rest of the salon was trendy shabby-chic, but the office was just shabby.

Bastien racked his brain as to how to begin a conversation with Elise. His palms were sweating, and he knew he needed to find his calm and get to work. He cleared his throat.

So, how did you get in contact with Laurent? he asked.

Elise leaned back in her chair and trained her eyes on him, making him want to squirm.

Well, I’ve been looking for you for the past three months. Elise’s tone was pinched. I tried reaching out over social media, but your PR manager blocked me. I tried calling your office, but your secretary wouldn’t connect me to you.

Bastien shook his head. Because of the scandal and the bad press over their bar fight, Bastien had enacted strict guidelines about who was to be put through to him at work. He’d had no idea she’d been reaching out. I’m so sorry. It’s like Fort Knox at my office. My admins don’t pass on personal contacts because…they’ve been trained on who to let through. He didn’t feel like hashing out the reason. It was embarrassing.

Elise shrugged. Well, finally, I looked up the last name Durand and started calling all the Paris phone numbers under that name. I figured that was the best way to find a family member at least. I felt like a bit of a stalker, but it was the only way to find you. Your grandfather said you had an unlisted number and he’d contact you for me.

Why did you try so hard to find me? Even as the words left his lips, he knew why. Her swell of belly bloomed in his mind, mocking him as he tried not to look at it.

Really, Bastien? Elise raised her eyebrows at him, obviously challenging his play of ignorance. I didn’t make a baby by myself, and I guess I just assumed the father would want to know.

Bastien’s throat felt like it was closing. His fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, screaming at him to run, to flee from this woman and her claims. His knees were shaking with the urge to leave, but he knew he couldn’t. For one, if Elise was telling the truth, then the child was a responsibility he had to wrap his head around. But what good would someone like him be to a child? Everyone knew he was a womanizer with no experience in taking care of a pet, let alone a child. He avoided romantic relationships like the plague, preferring one-night stands and casual hookups over the eventual heartache he would surely cause if he got himself wrapped up and tied down to one woman. He’d never be able to provide the commitment or consistency needed to be a father. His track record showed that he would screw everything up royally if given the chance.

Still, a little voice inside him said that he’d never forgive himself if he just walked away. Plus, Laurent was expecting him to complete his community service project. He couldn’t disappoint his grandfather, and he couldn’t abandon Elise. He could at least do right by helping her with the business. The rest was just too much to think about at this point. He squared his shoulders and summoned his best self. He’d need it for the task ahead.

Elise. He stared into her striking green eyes with as much honesty and humility as he could muster. I’m sorry I’m just now learning about this. He gestured uncomfortably to her baby bump. If I’d known, I would have come, I swear. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I’m here to help you in the best way I can, by working with you to get your salon back on its feet.

He eyed her, waiting for her response, hoping she would welcome the only thing he had to give.

Okay then, she finally said. Let’s get down to business.

2

Elise’s cheeks burned as she faced Bastien Durand. At least they were seated in her office, and she didn’t have to look up to be eye-to-eye with the six-foot-plus, broad-chested playboy. Standing he seemed to command the room with his hard body and muscled frame, but here, like this, Bastien was less warrior and more mogul. Though she hadn’t noticed it when they’d met months ago, he exuded an air of money and good taste. His suit was designer, his shoes were shined, and his cologne smelled expensive.

With his dark good looks and piercing blue eyes, Bastien was delicious eye candy, and her memories of him in bed were luscious, but she felt nothing but anger right now as she stared at him. They’d made no promises to each other on the night that they’d slept together, so she really had no reason to be so pissed off. Likely the pregnancy hormones were making her unreasonably angry. With a deep breath, she tried to refocus. He was here for a reason—to help her with Bombshell.

You know, she began, when I told your grandfather about the financial problems we’ve had here, he was enthusiastic about helping me. Why do you think that was?

Bastien sat forward in his chair and met her eyes with his disarming ones. Why did he have to be so damn pretty?

"My grandfather has a penchant for what he likes to call his community