Post by RMT-Mod-Kara on Sept 17, 2016 18:44:21 GMT -5
Sitting at his desk, Colby stared into the emptiness of his home office. He'd retreated there as soon as he'd gotten home even to the point of taking his dinner there. He wasn't hiding or avoiding anyone or anything. He was simply needing some quiet time to focus on the budget proposals that were staring at him and waiting for him to make a decision.
It was a struggle to focus. He had sent a penthouse full of flowers to Jessica for her birthday. He never forgot her birthday. Though he had wanted and would have preferred to have delivered them himself, he did not want to over step any welcome he may have attained. All he had wanted was for her to know that he remembered. He lowered his head and stared at the numbers. But the only thing that stared back at him were the numbers that plagued his nightmares. He had ascended to the Lefabre throne because he had wanted to please Jessica - to make him somehow worthy of her.
The humiliation of his family secrets had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He needed her to be proud of him and maybe, just maybe, he still needed that.
But as it was, he was a success by most men's measure and he should probably be the happiest man on the planet given that sexpistol Belle Whitney had moved in and on top of that, she was giving him the family he'd longed for since losing his first born. Finally, he was going to be a father. A smile settled on his lips at the thought of holding his baby girl in his arms. He could hardly wait to meet her...it was the most divine gift he could ever imagine. Someone who was going to need him as much as he needed her.
After being told by the staff that Colby would be taking his dinner in his study alone, Belle had eaten hers in the large dining room all by herself. She didn't know what it was that had compelled Colby to want to be alone but she had learned--the hard way--that there was no pushing Colby Lefabre, not unless you wanted to end up on his bad side. And Colby's bad side was the last place she wanted to be, not after finally getting on his good side after a lot of hard work and convincing. Especially when his good side was so very good. She ate in silence, managing to clean her plate before pushing it away for the staff to collect, then finished her milk and water--God, she couldn't wait to have a glass of wine again--before getting up, leaving her napkin on her chair.
Stopping by the kitchen, she confirmed the breakfast, lunch and dinner menus for the next day, then told the staff they were dismissed once they'd finished up the clean up. If Colby wanted peace and quiet, that's what he would get. There would be shuffling of servants feet as they worked to disturb him.
Once that was done, Belle stopped by the bar in the lounge and poured a glass of scotch on the rocks then carried the drink into the study where Colby sat alone in the dark. She pushed the door open slowly, barely making a sound, then waddled across the carpet--barefoot--and set the glass down on his desk in front of him.
"Long day?" she asked.
He looked up not really expecting anyone other than her to actually seek him out. He was pleased that she had. A tight lipped smile was offered as his eyes settled on the glass of scotch, "Hmm, too long." His eyes moved over her, pausing at her swollen belly before they moved back to her pretty face. She was really a pretty girl, but he knew that there was more to her than just that pretty little face. He doubted that she could be what she claimed she could be for him. Truth be told he doubted anyone could be what he wanted or needed.
He leaned back in his chair, "Thank you." He wasn't just thanking her for the drink. He was thanking her for giving him his solitude when he needed it even if she didn't understand. And he was thanking her for not questioning him. He turned the chair and motioned her to come behind the desk. "Come here, please."
Belle tilted her head to the side as she contemplated his request for a moment before doing as he asked and rounding the desk. "You look exhausted," she said, noticing the fatigue in his eyes.
He nodded a barely noticeable movement as his hands moved out to frame both sides of her stomach. Glancing up at her as if to ask permission he planted a soft kiss on the top most peak of her swollen pregnant abdomen. He lingered there for a few moments, his eyes closed as he waited for the kicks that he knew were coming. She was always happy to see him. Daddy's girl.
Colby smiled softly, savoring these moments as he rested his cheek against her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her closer to him. "I missed you today...both of you."
She wasn't surprised when Colby touched her stomach or even when he pressed his cheek against it. Ever since Colby had, it seemed, accepted that the baby she was carrying was, in fact, his, he had become almost infatuated with the little girl growing inside of her. She combed her fingers through his blond hair, twirling a lock of it around her fingers as she looked down at him while he talked to the baby in her womb. "You're going to spoil her rotten, aren't you?" she noted.
"She's a Lefabre...there's no such thing as a spoiled Lefabre," he smiled relaxing as she caressed his hair. Her touch was soothing when he allowed it to be.
Pulling back for a moment, he took a sip of the scotch that she had broght him and smiled feeling the liquid smoothly slide down his throat. "This is perfect," he leaned back in the chair, but he still held her hand.
Colby took another drink and then looked up at her, "How was your day?"
"It was good," she answered, sliding her palm along his jawline, giving his cheek a stroke with her thumb before pulling it away and resting both of her hands on her belly like it were her own little portable table. "Brock's doctor stopped by. He says they have to release him in a week, something about not being able to hold him without his consent if they don't have a court order. Apparently he isn't consenting, so his doctor said you need to make arrangement for Brock after they release him. I told him that he'd be staying her, where you can support him while he gets cleaned up."
"Yes, of course, Brock can come here." He turned his chair and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk now as he thought, "I'll tend to the doctor personally. He needs to understand that he works for me." His brow furrowed, "I say when Brock is released - but I'm reasonable. if he has good evidence that Brock is at a place where he can make those decisions for himself then I'm willing to listen."
He took a deep breath, "I'll get the guest wing ready for him." He was already making a mental note that the whores wouldn't be part of that deal. He'd have none of that in his house around his baby girl. Brock would just have to understand.
She frowned at him. Placing her fingers under her chin, she turned his head to get him looking at her again. "Why don't you let me get the guest wing ready?" she asked. "You've got enough on your plate running the company without having to worry about things here, too. Besides, it's not like I have a lot to do during the day. It'll give me something to do besides sit on the couch watching soap operas and waiting for you to come home."
"You have a lot to do...you're taking care of our baby girl," he was only partially teasing her. Colby nodded, "Okay, you see to the guest wing for Brock."
Taking another drink of the scotch, he curled his lips around his teeth slightly and sucked in as the liquid slid down his throat. "I'll let you know when he'll be here." He was relieved that she was willing to take care of that - she was right. It did take something off of his plate.
Belle nodded, already fomenting a plan to secure all the alcohol in the house and lock it away somewhere where Brock would either not be able to find it or not be able to access it even if he did. Unable to remain on her throbbing feet any longer, Belle turned and crossed the office to the couch that sat along the far wall and eased herself into it, letting out a sigh of relief the moment the weight shifted from her aching feet.
She stared at him from across the room, debating with herself whether she should confess where she'd gone last week. Taking in a deep breath, she decided it was better coming from her and that keeping secrets from him--not matter how "small"--was only going ruin what little trust she had managed to gain would be foolish. "I went to see Jessica last Thursday," she said, blurting it out before she could stop herself.
Raising a brow the young Lefabre stared at her, not speaking for a long while. The silence was heavy ad awkward as he weighed his reaction.
He took a sip of the scotch looked at the numbers again and only then did he speak, "Why?" It was straight forward and clear. There could be no misunderstanding in his tone.
"Because she's your ex-wife," Belle answered honestly. She pushed herself back in the sofa and lifted her feet--first one, then the other--onto the coffee table in front of her. "And because I wanted to make sure she knew that I have no intention of letting her just waltz right back into your life, especially after the way she turned her back on you and left you. I wanted to make sure she knew that I wasn't going to let her hurt you again."
She spun that really well. He had to admire the way she'd made it all about him. He forced a tight smile, "I appreciate your protective nature; however, it's completely unnecessary." He finally gave her his eyes, "She has no interest in what I have to offer."
"Yeah, well, we already established that she's an idiot," she said with a resolute expression etched onto her face. She was making it no secret that she would do anything--anything--to make sure Jessica Reeves stayed away from Colby...for good. "But her loss is our gain," she then added, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly as she looked down toward the baby growing inside of her, Colby's baby.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes having seen enough numbers he finished jotting down notes in the margin of the budget. "Belle..." he stood, finished off his scotch in one long deep swallow. "Let's go to bed."
Walking to stand in front of her, he held out his hand to help her up. "You've had a long day," he nodded towards the door. "Come on, I'll rub your feet once you get into bed."
Unable to hide the smile that was pulling at the corner of her mouth, Belle took his hand and let Colby hoist her out of the couch and lead her out of the office. "You know, if you keep offering to rub my feet every night, I might just start to get used to it, Mr. Lefabre," she said, teasing him.
"And that would be a bad thing why?" he laced his fingers through hers as he led her up the stairs to the bedroom they were now sharing. He turned on the light and immediately started to remove his clothing. He tossed what needed to go to the cleaners into the hamper so that the staff would know.
Once he'd stripped down to his underwear, he padded to the bathroom. When he returned he had a bottle of lotion, "So my assistant told me that this was the best for feet." He grinned and waited on her to get settled onto the bed.
Belle didn't hesitate to hobble over to the bed and slowly climb onto the soft, pillowy mattress. She took a moment to fluff up the pillows before leaning back with her feet stretched out in front of her as she watched Colby get undressed. She was still in her pajamas but, lately, she'd found sleeping naked to be a little impractical, especially when she could--technically--go into labor at any moment. She let out a loud groan of relief the moment his fingers wrapped around her aching feet. "Oh, God, that feels a-mazing," she said, letting her head sink back into her pillows.
He reclined onto the bed, his hands slowly working the aching muscles of her feet. He took his time, letting the pressure from his thumb work out some of the soreness. His touch was slow and firm, but careful too. She was a goddess to him right now. She was carrying his baby. His daughter.
It was a struggle to focus. He had sent a penthouse full of flowers to Jessica for her birthday. He never forgot her birthday. Though he had wanted and would have preferred to have delivered them himself, he did not want to over step any welcome he may have attained. All he had wanted was for her to know that he remembered. He lowered his head and stared at the numbers. But the only thing that stared back at him were the numbers that plagued his nightmares. He had ascended to the Lefabre throne because he had wanted to please Jessica - to make him somehow worthy of her.
The humiliation of his family secrets had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He needed her to be proud of him and maybe, just maybe, he still needed that.
But as it was, he was a success by most men's measure and he should probably be the happiest man on the planet given that sexpistol Belle Whitney had moved in and on top of that, she was giving him the family he'd longed for since losing his first born. Finally, he was going to be a father. A smile settled on his lips at the thought of holding his baby girl in his arms. He could hardly wait to meet her...it was the most divine gift he could ever imagine. Someone who was going to need him as much as he needed her.
After being told by the staff that Colby would be taking his dinner in his study alone, Belle had eaten hers in the large dining room all by herself. She didn't know what it was that had compelled Colby to want to be alone but she had learned--the hard way--that there was no pushing Colby Lefabre, not unless you wanted to end up on his bad side. And Colby's bad side was the last place she wanted to be, not after finally getting on his good side after a lot of hard work and convincing. Especially when his good side was so very good. She ate in silence, managing to clean her plate before pushing it away for the staff to collect, then finished her milk and water--God, she couldn't wait to have a glass of wine again--before getting up, leaving her napkin on her chair.
Stopping by the kitchen, she confirmed the breakfast, lunch and dinner menus for the next day, then told the staff they were dismissed once they'd finished up the clean up. If Colby wanted peace and quiet, that's what he would get. There would be shuffling of servants feet as they worked to disturb him.
Once that was done, Belle stopped by the bar in the lounge and poured a glass of scotch on the rocks then carried the drink into the study where Colby sat alone in the dark. She pushed the door open slowly, barely making a sound, then waddled across the carpet--barefoot--and set the glass down on his desk in front of him.
"Long day?" she asked.
He looked up not really expecting anyone other than her to actually seek him out. He was pleased that she had. A tight lipped smile was offered as his eyes settled on the glass of scotch, "Hmm, too long." His eyes moved over her, pausing at her swollen belly before they moved back to her pretty face. She was really a pretty girl, but he knew that there was more to her than just that pretty little face. He doubted that she could be what she claimed she could be for him. Truth be told he doubted anyone could be what he wanted or needed.
He leaned back in his chair, "Thank you." He wasn't just thanking her for the drink. He was thanking her for giving him his solitude when he needed it even if she didn't understand. And he was thanking her for not questioning him. He turned the chair and motioned her to come behind the desk. "Come here, please."
Belle tilted her head to the side as she contemplated his request for a moment before doing as he asked and rounding the desk. "You look exhausted," she said, noticing the fatigue in his eyes.
He nodded a barely noticeable movement as his hands moved out to frame both sides of her stomach. Glancing up at her as if to ask permission he planted a soft kiss on the top most peak of her swollen pregnant abdomen. He lingered there for a few moments, his eyes closed as he waited for the kicks that he knew were coming. She was always happy to see him. Daddy's girl.
Colby smiled softly, savoring these moments as he rested his cheek against her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her closer to him. "I missed you today...both of you."
She wasn't surprised when Colby touched her stomach or even when he pressed his cheek against it. Ever since Colby had, it seemed, accepted that the baby she was carrying was, in fact, his, he had become almost infatuated with the little girl growing inside of her. She combed her fingers through his blond hair, twirling a lock of it around her fingers as she looked down at him while he talked to the baby in her womb. "You're going to spoil her rotten, aren't you?" she noted.
"She's a Lefabre...there's no such thing as a spoiled Lefabre," he smiled relaxing as she caressed his hair. Her touch was soothing when he allowed it to be.
Pulling back for a moment, he took a sip of the scotch that she had broght him and smiled feeling the liquid smoothly slide down his throat. "This is perfect," he leaned back in the chair, but he still held her hand.
Colby took another drink and then looked up at her, "How was your day?"
"It was good," she answered, sliding her palm along his jawline, giving his cheek a stroke with her thumb before pulling it away and resting both of her hands on her belly like it were her own little portable table. "Brock's doctor stopped by. He says they have to release him in a week, something about not being able to hold him without his consent if they don't have a court order. Apparently he isn't consenting, so his doctor said you need to make arrangement for Brock after they release him. I told him that he'd be staying her, where you can support him while he gets cleaned up."
"Yes, of course, Brock can come here." He turned his chair and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk now as he thought, "I'll tend to the doctor personally. He needs to understand that he works for me." His brow furrowed, "I say when Brock is released - but I'm reasonable. if he has good evidence that Brock is at a place where he can make those decisions for himself then I'm willing to listen."
He took a deep breath, "I'll get the guest wing ready for him." He was already making a mental note that the whores wouldn't be part of that deal. He'd have none of that in his house around his baby girl. Brock would just have to understand.
She frowned at him. Placing her fingers under her chin, she turned his head to get him looking at her again. "Why don't you let me get the guest wing ready?" she asked. "You've got enough on your plate running the company without having to worry about things here, too. Besides, it's not like I have a lot to do during the day. It'll give me something to do besides sit on the couch watching soap operas and waiting for you to come home."
"You have a lot to do...you're taking care of our baby girl," he was only partially teasing her. Colby nodded, "Okay, you see to the guest wing for Brock."
Taking another drink of the scotch, he curled his lips around his teeth slightly and sucked in as the liquid slid down his throat. "I'll let you know when he'll be here." He was relieved that she was willing to take care of that - she was right. It did take something off of his plate.
Belle nodded, already fomenting a plan to secure all the alcohol in the house and lock it away somewhere where Brock would either not be able to find it or not be able to access it even if he did. Unable to remain on her throbbing feet any longer, Belle turned and crossed the office to the couch that sat along the far wall and eased herself into it, letting out a sigh of relief the moment the weight shifted from her aching feet.
She stared at him from across the room, debating with herself whether she should confess where she'd gone last week. Taking in a deep breath, she decided it was better coming from her and that keeping secrets from him--not matter how "small"--was only going ruin what little trust she had managed to gain would be foolish. "I went to see Jessica last Thursday," she said, blurting it out before she could stop herself.
Raising a brow the young Lefabre stared at her, not speaking for a long while. The silence was heavy ad awkward as he weighed his reaction.
He took a sip of the scotch looked at the numbers again and only then did he speak, "Why?" It was straight forward and clear. There could be no misunderstanding in his tone.
"Because she's your ex-wife," Belle answered honestly. She pushed herself back in the sofa and lifted her feet--first one, then the other--onto the coffee table in front of her. "And because I wanted to make sure she knew that I have no intention of letting her just waltz right back into your life, especially after the way she turned her back on you and left you. I wanted to make sure she knew that I wasn't going to let her hurt you again."
She spun that really well. He had to admire the way she'd made it all about him. He forced a tight smile, "I appreciate your protective nature; however, it's completely unnecessary." He finally gave her his eyes, "She has no interest in what I have to offer."
"Yeah, well, we already established that she's an idiot," she said with a resolute expression etched onto her face. She was making it no secret that she would do anything--anything--to make sure Jessica Reeves stayed away from Colby...for good. "But her loss is our gain," she then added, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly as she looked down toward the baby growing inside of her, Colby's baby.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes having seen enough numbers he finished jotting down notes in the margin of the budget. "Belle..." he stood, finished off his scotch in one long deep swallow. "Let's go to bed."
Walking to stand in front of her, he held out his hand to help her up. "You've had a long day," he nodded towards the door. "Come on, I'll rub your feet once you get into bed."
Unable to hide the smile that was pulling at the corner of her mouth, Belle took his hand and let Colby hoist her out of the couch and lead her out of the office. "You know, if you keep offering to rub my feet every night, I might just start to get used to it, Mr. Lefabre," she said, teasing him.
"And that would be a bad thing why?" he laced his fingers through hers as he led her up the stairs to the bedroom they were now sharing. He turned on the light and immediately started to remove his clothing. He tossed what needed to go to the cleaners into the hamper so that the staff would know.
Once he'd stripped down to his underwear, he padded to the bathroom. When he returned he had a bottle of lotion, "So my assistant told me that this was the best for feet." He grinned and waited on her to get settled onto the bed.
Belle didn't hesitate to hobble over to the bed and slowly climb onto the soft, pillowy mattress. She took a moment to fluff up the pillows before leaning back with her feet stretched out in front of her as she watched Colby get undressed. She was still in her pajamas but, lately, she'd found sleeping naked to be a little impractical, especially when she could--technically--go into labor at any moment. She let out a loud groan of relief the moment his fingers wrapped around her aching feet. "Oh, God, that feels a-mazing," she said, letting her head sink back into her pillows.
He reclined onto the bed, his hands slowly working the aching muscles of her feet. He took his time, letting the pressure from his thumb work out some of the soreness. His touch was slow and firm, but careful too. She was a goddess to him right now. She was carrying his baby. His daughter.