The Rogue King's Surrogate novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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10

“This is such a stupid–like, incredibly stupid–idea, Em,” Nina muttered, shoving a hot coffee into Emery’s hands. “I know you’re rich.

Filthy rich. But this?”

She glanced around the waiting area of the clinic and lowered her voice. “Why the hell would you do something like… artificial insemination?”

Π

Emery didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

TH

Her coat was still wrinkled from the struggle. Her blouse, slightly torn at the sleeve, hung off one shoulder. The smear of mascara under her eyes hadn’t faded, and her cheeks were still damp from crying. She hadn’t even changed her clothes. She had run straight here.

Nina sighed and reached out, trying to hold her hand. Emery slapped it away without looking up. “It’s my only choice,” she said, voice flat.

“Only choice?” Nina blinked at her, completely thrown. “What does that even mean? How the hell did I end up with a friend like you?”

When Emery didn’t respond, Nina cursed softly. “That bastard Samuel,” she hissed. “This is his fault! I still can’t believe he threw you away like that. For what? A damn business deal?” She gestured wildly with one hand. “Alright, we should leave. You

can still find a man who would marry you. There are literally billions of men out there. Half of them would kill to marry you if you gave them the time of day.”

Emery gave a dry, humorless chuckle and sipped the coffee. “I don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “I just need a baby.”

She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have the energy.

She was certain that her father already saw the news about Samuel and Talia. Her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing–calls from her father, from her brother, even from his assistant. She ignored them all. Talking meant admitting she lost. It meant acknowledging that Samuel had chosen someone else. That her five–year plan had ended in public humiliation and a slap from his mother.

So she stayed quiet.

But the longer she stayed silent, the more something inside her shifted. She didn’t want to fix things anymore. She didn’t want to go back. What she wanted now was control. And to take back control, she needed one thing.

An heir.

She came prepared. She wasn’t going to marry someone just to have a child. Her father would explode if he found out she was going through with artificial insemination, but that wasn’t her concern anymore. She was done living by rules designed by men.

Nina opened her mouth to say something else, but a nurse stepped into the waiting area.

“Emery Vaughn?”

Nina sighed. “Go ahead. I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick.”

Emery nodded, grabbed her coffee, and followed the nurse. As she reached into her purse to grab her phone, it buzzed. She turned without thinking–and walked straight into something solid.

Not something.

Someone. A hard chest, warm and very real.

She swore and stumbled back, glaring up. “Seriously? Do you not look where you’re going?”

Her gaze traveled up the man’s broad chest, past his ruined white shirt–now splashed with mascara and coffee–up to his face.

Tall. Easily six–four, maybe more. Lean, but built like someone who worked out in secret. His leather jacket clung perfectly to his frame. His black hair looked like he styled it with his fingers, and his stubble only added to the whole rugged and dangerous vibe.

And then she saw his eyes. Light brown, almost golden in the light.

Gemstone eyes on a man built like a sin. How annoying.

Her brain stalled. Was she starting to hate men because of Samuel!?

12:34 AM P P •

Chapter 3

Then he opened his mouth.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not interested.”

He brushed past her like she was a damn lamppost.

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” Not even an apology?

However, he didn’t stop. “If this is your way of flirting, next time try not to dump overpriced coffee all over someone’s shirt.” Then he let his eyes travel down her clothes. “And at least dress better. You look like a corpse.”

She stormed after him. “Excuse me? You walked into me, jackass. And if you hadn’t been standing in the middle of the hallway like some oversized furniture—”

“So it’s my fault you weren’t watching where you were going.”

He stepped around her, clearly done with the conversation, but Emery wasn’t finished. She spun on her heel and followed him, matching his pace. “How can you be so rude? The least that you can do is apologize!”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath. “They’re really letting anyone donate now, huh?” She shot him a glare. “Maybe I should ask the clinic to reconsider your application–wouldn’t want some poor kid growing up with your personality.”

He looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of a magazine–tall, smug, and unfairly attractive in that dangerous, ruin–your–life kind of way. Of course, he was here to donate. Some rich couple was probably lining up to pay a fortune for a baby with his cheekbones and ego.

“What did you just say?” His voice dropped, low and controlled, as he stepped toward her.

The air shifted. He was close now–too close. Her breath caught, but she held her ground, refusing to look away even as something electric danced between them.

She was about to respond when the nurse called her name again. Emery clenched her jaw, shot him one last death glare, and stormed down the hallway.

She took one step, and her foot slipped over the wet tile where the coffee had spilled. Her heel skidded forward, and her balance disappeared.

“Oh, come on She braced for impact.

Instead, she felt two strong arms catch her–one around her back, the other gripping her wrist. Her body slamined into a firm chest, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs.

Of course. It was him.

2/3

12:34 AM P P

Chapter 3

The same ruined white shirt. The same smug expression.

She froze, hands awkwardly pressed against his chest. He didn’t move. He didn’t let go.

“You really know how to leave an impression,” he said, his gaze locked on hers.

Emery shoved at him immediately. “Let go.”

He released her without hesitation. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You were falling headfirst into the tile. I figured embarrassment was better than a concussion.”

Π

She yanked herself upright and adjusted her coat, brushing her skirt with quick, irritated hands. “Maybe if someone didn’t block hallways like a damn redwood tree—”

He cut her a glance, unimpressed, and walked right past her without a word.

That only pissed her off more.

She spun after him. “You didn’t even apologize.”

“You’re the one who spilled the coffee.”

“I tripped because of the coffee that spilled because of you!”

He glanced over his shoulder, completely unfazed. “Sounds like a personal problem. If you’re here for therapy, wrong clinic.”

Emery opened her mouth, fully ready to tear into him, but the nurse at the end of the hall called her name again–louder this time, with a hint of impatience.

She clenched her jaw, gave him one last searing glare, and turned on her heel. “God, I hope no one picks your DNA,” she muttered.

Without turning around, his voice drifted back-

“You wish.”