Knocked Up by a Doctor

KNOCKED UP BY A DOCTOR PAIGE DAWSON CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Epilogue Also by Paige Dawson CHAPTER 1 Winston (20 years ago) Tomorrow, everything in my life would go to shit. It’s rare to have a schedule for that kinda thing. But, lucky me, it was scheduled for the morning news when the word would be out there for all to read: that I, Doctor Winston Kings, was one of Emory Brock’s long-lost illegitimate children. And since he was dead, I’d inherit one-fifth of his business empire. I was even taking on his name as a condition of accepting my inheritance. Just like the old man to bend us to his will, even after he’d passed away. ‘Winston Brock.’ I hadn’t yet gotten used to it. I needed to. My four half-brothers would take over the other four-fifths of my late biological father’s businesses. Since none of us had known our biological father was the infamous multi-billionaire until we’d received an invitation to his mansion just a few years prior, I’d only known them for a few years. They all seemed decent enough, though. Apollo, the youngest, could be a bit annoying when he wanted to be, but we cut him a break because of his age. But the five of us had bonded through our shared situation's sheer weirdness and trauma. The situation was to be revealed to the world tomorrow. Whatever. That was for ‘Tomorrow Winston’ to worry about. Tomorrow Winston, Winston Brock, had a media shitstorm to deal with. Who envied him? I certainly didn’t. ‘Today Winston,’ Winston Kings, only needed to have one thing on his mind: asking out the girl he’d been thinking about for months. It was quite literally his last chance. And it was easy enough to push tomorrow’s impending doom out of my mind when the thought of Monica Scott slid into my mind. It was even easier to focus on her since I was currently at her photography exhibit, pretending to browse a wall of photos while instead trying to pluck up the courage to ask her out. I’d been staring for so long that I was the last one here. “Are you really that mesmerized by my photos?” Her voice pulled me out of my frantic thoughts and into reality as she crossed the room toward me. It echoed in the empty hall, reminding me that with just the two of us here, now was my time. I turned around to smile sheepishly in her direction. But instead, I found myself taken aback by her beauty, as often happened whenever I spoke to her. Her curly hair hung loose tonight, not styled waves like so many girls but untamed, wild curls that stuck out in all directions. She was wearing a sophisticated black cold-shoulder dress with a high collar that clung to her, showing off her curves in all the right places – which was all the places because her body was magnificent. She seemed to avoid wearing make-up, which gave her an ethereal and timeless beauty. She didn’t need it – her skin glowed, and her eyes were sharp and intelligent. And luckily, she seemed not to have noticed my temporary awkwardness as I fumbled my response and stayed silent. Or was politely avoiding drawing attention to it? “You know, I think you must be my biggest fan. You’re the only person who’s attended every single one of my exhibitions.” “For real?” I managed that smile now. It was still a bit sheepish. Was it embarrassing that I’d been the only person to attend her exhibitions? Was it creepy or flattering? Did she realize that I hadn’t been coming solely for her work? She nodded. “For real. My best friends made it to nearly all of them, except for one when they were too hungover from the night before. Or was it two nights before?” I laughed. “Good friends would have dragged their corpses here, whatever the reason.” “Good friends, maybe. Great friends know they don’t need to apologize for looking after themselves when they need to. Aren’t you a doctor? Don’t you know all of this?” I held up my hands. She’d decided to take the holier-than-thou route, and she’d won. But I could just about tell she was teasing. “My bad. Guess I need to go back to med school. You’re a better person than I am.” She smiled coyly. “Maybe.” Then she looked at the wall I’d been staring at. “Go on, which is your favorite? Indulge me. I don’t fish for compliments often.” I glanced back at the wall, quickly trying to pick a favorite. In the end, it was easy. “This one.” The one I picked was the most abstract of the collection. It was an almost kaleidoscopic mix of lights, colors, and small intricate details. I couldn’t quite make out what it was a photo of – but that’s why I liked it. That, and something about the mysterious nature of it, appealed to me. Just like Monica, and her own mysteries, did, too. She didn’t reply. I looked sideways to see she was smiling just slightly, her eyelids half-closed, looking at the photo I’d selected. I became self-conscious. “Was that the right answer?” Her smile moved to focus back on me. I cringed inside, cursing myself for always breaking the silence by growing awkward and making stupid comments. Monica was far more self-possessed than I was. I got the impression that she was someone who was actually comfortable during comfortable silences. “I’m so glad you chose that one. My professors hated it unanimously. But it was my favorite, so I kept it in.” I looked