My Grumpy Billionaire Read online

  Other Titles by Nadia Lee

  Standalone Titles

  Baby for the Bosshole

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Beauty and the Assassin

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Oops I Married a Rock Star

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Flirting with the Rock Star Next Door

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Mister Fake Fiancé

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Marrying My Billionaire Hookup

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Faking It with the Frenemy

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Marrying My Billionaire Boss

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Stealing the Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  The Sins Trilogy

  Book 1: Sins

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: Secrets

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3: Mercy

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  The Billionaire’s Claim Duet

  Book 1: Obsession

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: Redemption

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  Sweet Darlings Inc. Series

  Book 1: That Man Next Door

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: That Sexy Stranger

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3: That Wild Player

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  Billionaires’ Brides of Convenience Series

  Book 1: A Hollywood Deal

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: A Hollywood Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3: An Improper Deal

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 4: An Improper Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 5: An Improper Ever After

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 6: An Unlikely Deal

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 7: An Unlikely Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 8: A Final Deal

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  The Pryce Family Series

  Book 1: The Billionaire’s Counterfeit Girlfriend

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: The Billionaire’s Inconvenient Obsession

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3: The Billionaire’s Secret Wife

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 4: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 5: The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 6: The Billionaire’s Holiday Bride

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  Seduced by the Billionaire Series

  Book 1: The Billionaire’s Revenge

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 2: The Billionaire’s Pursuit

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3: The Billionaire’s Baby

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 3.5: The Millionaire’s Crush

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 4: The Billionaire’s Secret

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  Book 5: The Billionaire’s Scandal

  US :: UK :: Canada :: Australia

  ——

  If you want to receive notices about my latest books, please join my VIP List at www.nadialee.net/vip!

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Titles by Nadia Lee

  About Nadia Lee

  Copyright

  My Grumpy Billionaire

  Nadia Lee

  To all the people who make the world a better place.

  Chapter One

  Sierra

  “Three months since your last period?” Dr. White says, looking at the questionnaire I filled out.

  “Yeah, but I’m irregular,” I say, lying on the examination table. I wish we’d talked about all this before I got on the table, my butt bare and lady parts exposed, but Dr. White likes to talk throughout appointments and go over anything that bothers her about my condition—or my answers on the questionnaire I filled out when I arrived in her office.

  “You’ve never gone beyond six weeks.” She’s been my doctor since forever and doesn’t need to consult anything to know. She taps something on her phone. “I ordered a pregnancy test, just to be sure.”

  “I can’t possibly be pregnant,” I say with a laugh to cover up a surge of mild are-you-kidding-me annoyance.

  “You’ve been celibate since the divorce?” She is aware of the pathetically unceremonious end of my marriage to Todd.

  “No, there’s a new guy in my life.” But my getting pregnant is as probable as my giving birth to Bullet and G-Spot’s baby. Bullet and G-Spot being my hamsters.
/>
  Dr. White should know this. She’s the one who told me I couldn’t get pregnant due to blocked fallopian tubes. How can she remember my cycles but not this critical point? “Let’s do your pap and I’ll do the sonogram, just to be sure. That’ll be quicker than the test anyway.”

  “Okay.” I’m already half-naked. When she finds nothing, I’m going to say, “I told you so.”

  I stare at the ceiling as she does her thing to gather cells from my cervix. Then she takes a thin tube.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “For transvaginal ultrasound. Since it’s your first time, I want to make sure everything looks good.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to do that over my belly?” I remember seeing that on TV.

  “It’s too early for that. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. You won’t even notice.”

  Contrary to her reassurance, I most definitely notice. But it isn’t super unpleasant.

  “Look at that screen.” She gestures at one of the monitors.

  I tilt my head. All I see are black-and-white dots. Nothing that could pass for a baby. “Looks like I’m not pregnant,” I say with a triumphant grin.

  She gives me a look. “Actually, you are. You are most definitely pregnant.”

  I jerk my head up off the table. Wait, wait, wait—I’m what? Is she messing with me? It could some sort of morbid medical humor.

  “Congratulations. I know you wanted to have children for a long time.” She beams, her pale gray eyes crinkling. She sucker-punches me, and now she’s smiling like she just won the Nobel Prize in Medicine?

  This awful bedside manner isn’t like Dr. White. She gave me the news about my blocked fallopian tubes with sympathy and kindness, allowing me plenty of time to regroup, think and ask questions. This woman has to be the good doc’s evil twin, out to ruin her life. Give patients a broad grin after telling them they’re pregnant—or they have cervical cancer.

  “Could you, uh, look again?”

  “Why don’t we both look?” She points at the monitor.

  What’s on the screen is as meaningful as tea leaves. “I have no idea what I’m seeing.”

  “Well, this is your womb.” She moves the wand around. It’s unpleasant, but I ignore it because maybe from a different angle, we won’t see the baby that she apparently can see.

  “I’d say you’re about ten weeks and three days pregnant.”

  My brain quits. It takes at least a full minute before I can speak. “But that’s impossible! You said my fallopian tubes were blocked. So no sperm”—I raise my left index finger—“can meet my egg there”—I raise my right index finger—“for fertilization!” I bring my fingers together and squish and rub them against each other in a biology demonstration.

  Dr. White blinks. “No,” she says slowly. “I said your tubes are partially blocked, which makes it very difficult for you to get pregnant. But it isn’t impossible. Sometimes the sperm and egg can still get through.”

  “Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with a shaking hand.

  Dr. White pats my other hand gently, apparently having mistaken my reaction for stunned joy. “Thankfully, everything looks great. No ectopic pregnancy for any of your babies.”

  Okay, so at least that part is good. Ectopic pregnancies can become life-threatening if not treated properly. Even rupture your fallopian—

  Wait a minute. “Did you just say babies?”

  She nods and gives me that smile again. And I know that whatever comes out of her mouth next is going to upend my life. Permanently.

  “You’re having triplets.”

  Chapter Two

  Sierra

  –ten weeks and three days earlier

  Do you know what happens when you get rid of a deadweight husband who thinks you’re an embarrassment?

  You soar.

  And I’m ready to soar until I hit the sun!

  The engine of my cherry-red Ferrari roars like a lion as I hit the gas hard. Today is the first day of my reclaimed singlehood, and I plan to make it awesome.

  As I take the final curve into the company parking lot, something catches my peripheral vision. Todd. My ex would look presentable if he lost the twenty-five pounds of blubber he started gaining the moment our wedding vows were exchanged, all of which went to his waist. He looks like he’s wearing a saggy, partially inflated swimming tube underneath his blue and yellow Rams T-shirt, which is his go-to when he wants to appear down to earth. If he’d spent the last two years doing something other than eating a metric ton of potato chips every evening while complaining about my job—which paid for those potato chips—he might be having an easier time squeezing past the two security guards who are doing their best to block him from getting to the building.

  Todd sees my car—it’s impossible to miss a flaming-hot Ferrari—and shouts, waving his arms like he’s lost at sea and just spotted a friendly vessel. Thankfully Freddie Mercury belting out one of my all-time favorite songs, “Don’t Stop Me Now,” is drowning out whatever garbage is spewing from Todd’s mouth.

  My shoulders moving to the upbeat tune, I ignore Todd and slide smoothly into my parking space. I turn to the passenger side, where I’ve seatbelted in a large hamster cage.

  My sandy-colored Roborovski hamsters, Bullet and G-Spot, are hopping and running in their wheel. Even hamsters know amazing music when they hear it. But not Todd. He actually told me he found Queen “crass” several months into our marriage, which resulted in a huge argument.

  I should’ve known we were doomed. What kind of heartless jerk hates Queen? And really, an adult man should have at least as good taste as a hamster.

  And yet I stayed, out of a desperate hope that died a sad, lonely death six months ago. I grieved. Todd raged.

  Stop thinking about it.

  I kill the engine, swing my tote bag and purse onto my shoulder, then unstrap the cage and carry it in my other hand as I climb out of the Ferrari. Without the car door and Freddie Mercury, Todd’s shouting becomes clearer.

  “Sierra! We need to talk! You can’t end it like this!”

  I roll my eyes. He’s probably distraught that he can’t access my funds anymore. Fortunately, he didn’t get a penny, thanks to the prenup he signed.

  Or maybe he’s worried about his job as an adjunct professor of English Literature. My family has strong ties to Wollstonecraft College and has a building named after us. He probably assumes I’m going to get him fired. But just because he’s petty doesn’t mean I’m going to stoop to his level. I want him out of my life, not professionally and financially ruined. People with nothing to lose are impossible to reason with.

  He tried to change my mind after I filed for divorce by sending me hand-written copies of John Keats’s poems. But that just shows how little Todd knows me. He would’ve done better to serenade me with a Queen song.

  Then again, a butthole like him doesn’t deserve to sing the great song.

  “Sierra!” he screams, channeling Brando from A Streetcar Named Desire. “We aren’t finished!”

  Oh, yes we are. If he keeps this up and continues to stalk me, maybe I will be forced to use my influence at Wollstonecraft. I’m sure the head of the English department can think of something to keep Todd occupied.

  I walk into Silicone Dream’s gorgeous lobby, which gleams with glass and polished stone. In the center is the huge lavender statue—a monolith, really—of the company’s first product. We put a clock on it to make it more functional, since the firm is all about fun functionality.

  “Good morning, Sierra. Looking fabulous today,” says Dan, the head of security. He’s a tall man in his late forties, thick with bulging muscles that intimidate anybody who thinks they can screw around here just because we make sex toys. The light reflects off his shiny bald head, and tats flex on his arms as he waves and gestures. He talks more with his hands than his mouth.

  “Good morning, Dan.” I smile. “Your team’s doing a good job out there.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let ’em know.”
He squints, gazing out through the glass walls. “That your ex they’re wrestling?”

  I sigh. “Yes.” Todd didn’t want a divorce. He wanted the respectability that came with being a college professor, and the lavish lifestyle of being my husband, even if my job embarrassed him to the core of his being.

  “Shoulda treated you better.” Dan’s never liked Todd, probably because my ex viewed him as a barely literate moron—a fact I didn’t know until very recently.

  “He should’ve treated everyone better.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.” A corner of his mouth twitches up as he looks at the cage. “Cute little things. What are they, hamsters?”

  I nod. “My babies.” Which I adore to death. Todd doesn’t care for them. Told me he finds “tailless rats” gross and suggested I might as well have cockroaches for pets. As if!

  Dan shakes his head. “Barely the size of two of my fingers.” He holds out a couple of fingers, each of which is as thick as a D battery.

  “They’re the smallest breed. I got custody.” Todd claimed he wanted them, but it was just to spite me. All I had to do to thwart him was act like that was exactly what I wanted to see happen.

  “Good for you.” Dan beams and puts a finger up to the cage, which G-Spot comes over to sniff. “These little critters need love.” His tone says, Your ex isn’t capable.

  I can’t argue. The only reason I didn’t see through Todd immediately was that I met him soon after the devastating loss of Grandma three years ago. I wasn’t myself. But now my judgment is one hundred percent again. And I know that, no matter how hard I try, he’s never going to be the kind of family I long for.

  The elevator takes me up toward the twentieth—and top—floor. The mirrored doors show my reflection, and I use the ride to make sure I look as powerful and free as I feel. My hair in a perfect French twist—check. Makeup—check. A sleeveless magenta dress—check. The employee badge proudly proclaiming me as the CEO of Silicone Dream—check. Power stilettos in nude—check. My favorite pearl earrings and necklace from my late mother—check.

  I smile. Damn, I look good.

  When the elevator reaches my floor, I walk out, a spring in my step. Even the corporate air feels freer.

  Of course, Silicone Dream isn’t your typical company. You can’t take yourself too seriously if you make sex toys. Not that we think our work is frivolous or silly. But we believe in fun because that’s what our products are about—fun. There are no joysticks more joyous than our dildos and vibrators. But because we are in the industry we’re in, we also emphasize respect. Because “fun” without respect is no fun. And respect is what makes trust possible.