Love Regardless: A Billionaire BWWM Pregnancy Romance

A
complete story, brought to you by
Esther Banks of
BWWM Club
.

When
Carla takes billionaire
Elliot's case, she isn't
quite sure what she's getting into.

Accused by his sister of burning down their father's building for the
compensation, this new case has her deep in the middle of a family
feud.

Could this man really be capable of the things he's accused of?

She hopes not, as the more she learns about her client, the more she
becomes drawn to him.

Handsome, smart and successful, Elliot seems to have everything she
could ask for in a man...

And he seems to feel the same way about her!

Now can the two do what's needed to win at court while also facing
unexpected turns in their own relationship?

Find out
in this emotional yet sexy romance by well respected author
Esther
Banks
.

Suitable
for over 18s only due to hot sex scenes and naughty language.

You've
been warned. ;)

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©
2015 to Ester Banks and SaucyRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book
can be copied or distributed without written permission from the
above copyright holders.

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

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Books By Ester Banks

I wake early, rising at the first
beep of my alarm. This is the kind of person I am – I am a
relentless moving person who is only content when active. The morning
is dull and gray, I can tell from the weak light creeping through my
blinds. I dress inside in my vast wardrobe, only content when I look
professionally intimidating, with a touch of feminine.

My phone buzzes with a new email
from my father. I sigh and ignore it, promising myself that I will
read it later – though I know I won’t. I have been
estranged from my father for six years now, and I only gave him my
email in the first place for emergencies. So far, he has not once
used it for an emergency, but more as a plea to get me to talk to
him. Of course I email back on occasion – just so he knows I’m
alive, but I don’t do it willingly.

As I make myself a coffee and grab
a bowl of muesli, I know that today will be incredibly long-winded –
I have several important meetings ahead of me and each of them is as
vital as the last. Though I am most intrigued about the first, I
cannot deny that much.

Once inside my penthouse office, I
turn up the heating and straighten my things on my desk –
making sure to look as orderly as possible. Although I’m
ashamed to admit it, I take a quick look in my compact mirror, and
dab a small bit of extra powder to matte-ify my skin. Maybe just a
hint of lip-gloss…

I look up once I can hear the door
opening, snapping my compact closed as quickly as possible and
smiling anxiously trying my best to look calm and cool.

The walls began to spin the moment
he entered, his hair slick from the rain outside. He looks up from
under his rain-drop laden eyes and smiles a crooked smile from the
doorway. In my line of work, as the corporate lawyer of multiple New
York billionaires, I see everyone, men and women, in the top of their
respective field. But I knew as I looked at him that his particular
brand of confidence was different, and built with steel. 

“
Mr.
Cresham for you, Ma’am.” My secretary Denise’s
voice hitched as she spoke his name. I wanted to laugh – she is
undoubtedly into him, and I don’t blame her.

As my newest
client, Elliot Cresham was also our youngest. At the age of
thirty-two, he is the sole CEO of
Elliot
Earnings
,
a financial institute he had built from the ground up. As if being
rich wasn't enough, he was perfectly sculpted with alabaster skin,
caramel curls and ice blue eyes. 

It was clear from when he entered
the office, nodding back to Denise, that we were opposites. I was
dark-skinned, dark-eyed and I never moved with the perfect ease he
did. 

Heat began to creep its way up to
my collar.

But perhaps we
were not so different. I was twenty-six and the leading lawyer of my
own firm,
Greyson
Iron Lawyers
.
Technically, Elliot Cresham and I were on the same
Forbes
list.

"Miss Greyson?" Elliot
spoke almost too sweetly, head duly tilted in a polite inclination -
and yet in his burning eyes, there was playful fire. With every
blink, he held my gaze, and his inner fire burned brighter still. I
tried my best not to look uncomfortable by his intense stare –
though it seemed impossible to not squirm under his icy blue eyes.

I nodded to
Denise, in a vague, half mesmerized way, and she left, closing the
door behind her. There had always been something about a man in
suit that had made me melt and this particular man and particular
rain drenched suit….
Well
.

I had been prepared for this, for
his looks. I needed to get it together.

"Welcome, Mr. Cresham."
My voice sounded rough and raspy to me as I tried to calmly walk
around my desk in my Jimmy Choo’s. I cringed at the sound. When
Elliot looked up, my fitted light blue dress suit seemed to be
smaller and all the more tight. I flushed again, my palms
beginning to sweat.

I felt like hitting myself for
having such a school-girl reaction.
"It's a pleasure to
make your acquaintance." He says, his voice as smooth as silk
over glass.

The words sounded funny on his lips
as his burning eyes danced over my body – in an appraising way,
not at all predatory. I felt immediately aware that Elliot Cresham
was not used to being polite or this courteous – at least not
to women in power. I would have to use this knowledge as my steel in
staying strong around him. Though I just noticed his dimples and my
insides melted again.

He walked forward gracefully and I
took his outstretched palm. It was cool to touch - a clear sign that
he was not nervous. I pulled back a shade too swiftly and he smirked,
as if knowing my inner dialogue. I gestured toward the opened
chairs before my desk as I took a seat in my leather swivel chair. 

It was my in control chair.

He sat, comfortably leaning back
into the seat. For the first time, I noticed that he had no suitcase
with him. Not so much as a pen was poking out of his suit pocket.

"Mr. Myer recommended you
personally, Miss Greyson. He couldn't praise you enough." 

I was instantly glad of my dark
skin as a flush crept up my neck. Mr. Myer was a previous
client, for whom I had worked through an exceedingly large public
discretion involving both embezzlement and a most passionate love
affair. It was a difficult case, but the one for which I had gained
much of my success.

"Mr. Myer
is too kind.” I say, graciously.
Or
not kind enough considering the money I saved him.
“And please - call me Clara." 

"Clara it is then." His
mouth seemed to curve around my name like it was a song and I was
enthralled, looking closely at his lips before I realized what I was
doing and briskly looking away.

His eyes meeting mine felt like a
full stop to an unfinished sentence and I realized that I wanted him
to go on talking and never stop. I had already memorized the shape of
my name on his lips, his bottom lip curled, ever-so-slightly. His
mouth looked delicious – his lips were particularly plump.

For a moment his
eyes left mine as he took in our body language, I was leaning across
my desk and he was sitting forward to reach me. I needed to get
a grip. This was
my
office,
my
job,
and
my
area
of expertise.
Back
to business Clara
,
I reminded myself as I shuffled my papers busily and took a deep
breath.

“
So how
may I help you, Mr. Cresham?” I took a sip of my distilled
water, feeling calmer now. I was a talented lawyer and he may be a
billionaire, but he needed me that much, the whole city knew. But it
was polite to pretend I didn’t keep up with the city gossip
like any other coquettish school girl.

“
Elliot,
please. And I think you know why I have need of you. I’d
imagine the entire Upper East Side and even those over the Brooklyn
Bridge know.” His voice was terse now – unwilling to
expand.

I did know, but it would be rude to
say that I read of his exploits just as keenly as anyone on the
streets. I tried my best to keep my face passive and looked
expectantly, waiting for him to go on.

“
Perhaps
you could enlighten me, Elliot.” I said, as I offered him some
water from the jug Denise had placed on my desk. He refused, with a
nod and a small smile before sighing and running his hands through
his hair.

I was dazzled all over again.

“
If you’ll
make me spell it out, then so be it Clara.” Elliot took a deep
breath and his muscles flexed against his gray suit. I rested my chin
on my interlocked fingers, monitoring my breathing, trying not to
look too keen. “When I was beginning my company nearly eight
years ago, after my father’s death, a building burned down over
in Brooklyn. It was a casino and bar with a highly exclusive
clientele – you’ll have heard of it. It just so happened
that the casino in question was in my father’s name, and thus
the insurance money passed on to me – as his eldest child.”

Elliot paused there, sighed and ran
his hands through his caramel hair once more. For once, he didn’t
look at me, but I could not look away from him – telling the
story pained him, and his pain seemed to bother me. I was distinctly
unwilling to see him looking so upset. His ice blue eyes looked
distant for just a moment, before he focused his gaze on my mine
again and smiled almost ruefully, seeming to gain the courage to
continue. I returned the smile.

“
I have
been accused by my sister of arson on the building. She claims I
needed the insurance funds to spur on my business in the early years,
and without that capital, I would have never succeeded.” He
finished the story lamely, as though by speaking nonchalantly was the
only way in which he could pretend that this accusation did not hurt.

I knew of this accusation –
and I know that much of the city is on his sister’s side, and
that this is having a negative impact upon his business.