Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

I’m not thinking about the cameras or reporters when I caress her cheek, soft as always, and right now, red in nervousness.

She sucks in a breath, her lips quivering and her eyes closed as she leans into my touch, filling my chest with relief and happiness.

“I’m sorry for being late, Daisy.” Five fucking months late.

Before I can apologize for my absence, my failures in being a better husband and a decent father, someone hollers, pulling me right out of this heaven.

“Mr. Hawthorne, are you saying you and Mrs. Hawthorne are still together? Our sources have confirmed that she’s staying with her friend.”

Even when I hate doing it, I turn my head toward the man who said those words.

“You certainly need better sources, because the ones you rely on are doing a shit job.” A fire burns in my chest, spreading outward in a wave of heat as I pin the reporter with a steely gaze. “Does your wife never stay with her friends?”

“I’m not married.” He squirms, giving me a huge satisfaction.

Of course you’re not. Fucking loser.

“Many months back, in a situation similar to this, I said in very clear words…” I pause, making sure I have everyone’s attention. “If ever my wife’s safety and her comfort are threatened, you’ll get to see the real me. But today, you didn’t just make her uncomfortable, you also put her and my baby at risk.”

My arms go around Daisy’s waist, and I gently pull her close. My heart jolts at an unbridled intensity as it registers the changes in her body. Something I’ve observed only from afar until now. There’s relief at having her close after so long beneath the nervousness as the reality of us becoming parents becomes starkly clear.

When my palm rests over her hip, I feel a shiver run through Daisy before she further slumps against my chest.

How did I manage to stay away from her, knowing she’s needed me?

Not any longer, butterfly.

But first things first.

I turn to face the media with more determination.

“Tomorrow is definitely not looking good for a lot of you. You can expect suspensions and termination letters at your desks.” I don’t stop, even when a collective gasp fills the air and the bright camera flashes suddenly stop. “And for all those who are scheming at publishing their last piece, labeling me a control freak and a tyrant, let me confirm—yeah, I gladly accept those titles. I’m the control freak who will do everything to protect his wife and his baby. And now, if you would excuse us, we have an important appointment to keep.”

I turn away from my stunned audience. Dave, Steve, and Daisy’s bodyguards create a barricade until we reach the steps of the hospital.

“Charles,” she whispers, finally finding her voice.

There’s so much I have to say, so much I want to hear, but not here.

“Everything’s okay, butterfly.”

There’s a flock of people waiting for us just inside the glass sliding doors, including the two security guards of the hospital.

“Thank God you’re safe, Daisy.” The head of the OB-GYN department steps forward. “We called the police, and they should be here any minute. But of course, your husband’s way was much more effective.” The woman doesn’t hide her smile, reminding me of her picture from the hospital website. I’ve had her résumé and personal background memorized since she started checking my wife.

“Okay, people, let’s get back to work. Show’s over.” She waves the pink file in her hand and shoos around the crowd before turning to the two security guards. “And you two, for Christ’s sake, be better at your job. I don’t want a repeat of this.”

There’ll be no repeat. I’ll make sure of that.

I’m definitely not counting on anyone else when it comes to Daisy’s safety.

“Daisy, Mr. Hawthorne, this way. I’m all ready for you.” The doctor saunters toward the hallway, and I don’t get to ask Daisy anything—not even how she’s feeling—because we’re immediately ushered into the examination room.

The soothing pastel walls have framed prints of babies. Daisy goes behind the privacy screen while I’m rooted in my spot next to an examination table, covered with a crisp white disposable sheet.

“Is this your first ultrasound, Mr. Hawthorne?” the doctor asks casually while I suppress the urge to shake under her scrutiny.

As the adrenaline starts to cool, my anxiety at being in a completely unfamiliar place starts to make its grand appearance. There was no time to prepare myself for all of this. I become aware of my tight fists and clenched jaw when Daisy’s cold hand rests over mine.