Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Barron

“ T ea? From a can?” Mother asks, her tone appalled. “Obviously you’ve been away from home for too long, Son.”

I shut my eyes, silently asking for patience to deal with my mother after everything that happened today. I should have known better than to just rattle off a list of what we have available without thinking about her sensibilities. “Ginger ale, then.”

“That’s fine, I suppose,” she allows with a resigned sigh, her features pinched in disapproval.

Ginger ale, it is. I retrieve the drink from the refrigerator, holding it up for her inspection. “Got it.”

“In a glass, Barron,” she chides, as if I’d actually consider serving it to her straight from the can. “Honestly, darling.”

“Of course, Mother,” I reply evenly, biting back the urge to protest that I haven’t completely forgotten how to be a proper host, despite her obvious doubts. I’m not sure how Abigail can deal with her every day.

I catch myself glancing down the hallway out of habit, looking for any sign of Abigail even though I know she isn’t there. She may have gone on shore after our confrontation in the entryway.

My jaw ticks with renewed irritation over the memory. I should have chosen a better time to bring up her future with the family rather than immediately after…well, after giving in to my baser urges in a moment of unbridled passion and desire.

But, in my defense, I wasn’t thinking straight at that point, thanks to the feel of her lush curves filling my hands. I turn away from recalling the intimate moments we shared, or I’ll end up needing to adjust myself.

I pull a glass from the cupboard and return to where Mother is settled on the couch. I pop open the top and am carefully pouring her drink when the security panel beeps.

“Oh, someone’s here,” she murmurs, leaning forward with an eager expression as she glances toward the hallway.

“It’s Stein, coming to check on you,” I assure her gruffly. I brace myself for another round of arguing over whether she still needs to be seen by a doctor. We’ll see what the esteemed doctor has to say.

But it’s Abigail who arrives, with Stein following at her heels.

“No need to run,” he says as she leads him into the suite. “I wouldn’t mind the company of a beautiful woman for a few more minutes.”

Fucking Stein. I scowl at the sight of them together. The smug bastard is hitting on Abigail at the first opportunity—and in my own home.

“I’m fine, Son,” Mother replies with a hint of annoyance.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Stein counters smoothly, turning his attention to his patient.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Mother greets him, switching to her pleasant Southern manner. “Abby, hello dear.”

“How’s my favorite patient today?” he asks as he crosses the room, not sparing Abigail a glance. It’s as if he’s forgotten her in a matter of seconds.

I won’t forget the deliberate slight toward Abigail. At the same time, I want him nowhere near her.

“Casting a wide net, aren’t you,” I mutter. The self-centered son of a bitch approaches Mother as I set the drink in her hand.

“I’m just fine, Doctor,” she replies to him, pretending not to hear what I said.

Stein’s phone rings. He blows out an exasperated breath as he reaches for his cell. “Stein.”

I focus on Abigail as she lingers awkwardly by the entryway. The lines of tension around her eyes are concerning. That can’t be good for a woman who may be expecting, even at this early stage.

I should ask Stein directly so he can move on from wanting to chase Abigail and concentrate on his patients.

“Keep pressure on it. I’ll be right there.” He ends the call, shoving the phone in his pocket. “Broken glass at the bar,” he explains, addressing me.

Damn. I was more worried about headaches and people being seasick. I didn’t take issues like this into account. In the future, I’ll lay off Stein.

“Keep me informed,” I say, my tone neutral.

“Oh dear. Go on,” Mother interjects with her concern, turning toward others when the emergency is mentioned. “I hope no one was seriously injured.”

“Don’t think you’re going to avoid me that easily,” Stein replies with an easy grin as he heads to the door. “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I’m done.”

“We may leave for dinner, so don’t rush back,” she informs him.

We need to go. I was able to set up a meeting with Harris later this evening. He’s still up to discussing a potential investment, even after I left him mid-sentence earlier today.

“No worries.” Stein opens the door. “It’s an excuse to call Abigail…to see if you’re available,” he says. Then the bastard has the audacity to wink at her before letting himself out.

“Isn’t he sweet?” Mother sighs, oblivious to the womanizing reputation Stein’s earned.

“Yes.”

I shift my attention from the door to Abigail, watching as she eats it up.

“I don’t know if Dr. Stein needs to continue these house calls,” Mother muses thoughtfully. “The swelling has gone down, and there’s only a slight pinch. I think I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“You see, you didn’t need a helper after all.” If she’d realized that earlier, we wouldn’t be in this problem.

Mother lifts her chin, looking at me with the sharp glare only a Southern woman can manage to pull off. “Of course I did,” she says, her accent more pronounced. “And I still do.”

That’s it. I hit that line of stubbornness that tells me I’m not getting anywhere fast.

“It’s okay, Miss Opal.” Abigail doesn’t spare me a glance. “Barron shared a concern about the money that’s been spent because of me.”

The fact she can cut away and dismiss me with the same resolve my mother uses only manages to piss me off even more.

“What?” Mother’s voice is barely audible. She turns to me, her expression laced with shock and consternation.

Oh hell. Now I’ll have to explain myself again. No doubt it’ll end with another scolding, followed by a fucking lecture.

I let out a harsh breath. If it was anyone else, I’d set them straight or run them the hell off, but my mother has earned her place. There’s no use upsetting her and having this thing escalate. “We can discuss it after dinner.”

Mother turns to Abigail. “You’ll-you’ll join us, dear?” she asks, her tone gentler. “For dinner, I mean.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Abigail replies politely.

“Did you have lunch?” Mother asks.

“No, ma’am. I went ashore,” she says, her voice wavering.

The way she suddenly lost her conviction at the end puts me on alert. What happened when she went ashore? She should have had security with her. Why didn’t I assign someone?

“Then you must join us.”

“I’m not really hungry, ma’am,” Abigail assures her.

And that’s a problem if she’s carrying my heir. I won’t allow her or my child to suffer because of her sensibilities. “You’ll eat.”

Her chin goes up in a too-familiar gesture. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Exactly what she shouldn’t have said. “You’ll eat if I have to tie you down and spoon-feed you myself.”

Her nostrils flare, and her eyes take on a hard glint. “You don’t own me, Barron. You can’t?—”

A sudden gasp from Mother catches me off guard.

“My God.” She puts her hand to her chest, her complexion losing its healthy color. “You did tell her.”