A Baby For The Billionaire

Dina’s long black hair was pulled into a high ponytail at the back of her head. She was barefoot and wore a dark red T-shirt with faded, skintight cutoff denim shorts. Music drifted from the speakers overhead and she moved to the rhythm, dancing across the white and gray marble floor tiles. His gaze fixed on the sway of her hips and his mouth went dry.

They’d been back from Ireland for two days and she hadn’t been in his bed since they left the castle. The hell of it was, he missed her. He couldn’t remember a time when a woman had made such an impact on him that he actively missed being with her. Until Dina, women had been fleeting distractions.

She was different. He wanted her here. Now. Teeth clenched, he got a grip on his needs and took a single step into the room. “Smells great in here.”

Dina shrieked, spun around and slapped one hand to the base of her throat. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “You didn’t hear me come in.” Glancing around the kitchen, his gaze swept across the familiar pale gray walls, red and white marble countertops and white cabinets. The room was big and he’d probably only seen it a handful of times since he’d moved into the house four years ago. This was Louise’s territory and he didn’t intrude on it.

“So where are the kids?”

“Louise is watching them upstairs,” Dina said. “I had to make the appetizers for a cocktail party and she volunteered to babysit so I could work faster.”

“So we don’t get to eat any of this stuff?” His gaze slid across the trays stacked on the end of the counter and the big round table set against a bay window. Late-afternoon sun streamed through that window in golden shafts that cut through the room and sparkled off the stainless steel fridge.

“We get to eat this.” She turned back to the stove and lifted the lid off a tall soup pot to allow a cloud of steam to lift from the surface.

Connor took a deep breath and sighed. “That smells amazing. What is it?”

“Chicken tortilla soup,” she said and let him peek into the pot before she slapped the lid back down on it. Her gaze met his and just for a second, he saw the same kind of desire he was feeling. And, as if she sensed what he was thinking, she cleared her throat, stepped back from him and busied herself with the trays of goodies she had prepared.

He walked over and stopped beside her, close enough that their arms brushed together. Connor heard her quick intake of breath and smiled to himself.

“So, what else do you have here?”

As she snapped the clear plastic lids on the trays, she said, “Mini chicken chimichangas, red-pepper-and-spinach quesadillas, shredded beef taquitos, cheese-stuffed jalapenos, and pulled pork miniburritos.”

He snagged one of those before she put on the lid and he’d taken a bite before she had time to whirl on him and say, “Hey! That’s for my client.”

Connor groaned as flavors exploded in his mouth. Everything had looked great on the trays, but one taste told him that she was a damn artist with a stove. He could understand now why she wanted to open a restaurant. The woman was a chef.

Chewing slowly, he shook his head and looked at the half a burrito he still held. “That,” he said with reverence in his tone, “is incredible.”

She smiled, pleased at the compliment. “Thank you.” Sighing, she said, “I’ve been cooking since early this morning and now that everything’s done I’ve got to shower and change so I can deliver the food to my client.”

Connor ate the last of his burrito and tried not to send a greedy glance at the covered trays. “Where’s the cocktail party?”

“Long Beach,” she said, turning away to stack the trays neatly. “So I’ve got to run. Now that you’re back, you can take over for Louise. I’m sure she’s more than ready for a break by now.”

“Long Beach is, like, an hour from here,” he said, not liking the thought of her having to drive alone all the way back after the party. It would probably be after midnight and if she drove down Pacific Coast Highway, there were plenty of dark stretches she’d have to pass through.

Frowning, he realized he was worried about her.

“Do you have someone working the party with you?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “This is a small affair. I can handle it on my own.”

“Maybe I should go with you,” he blurted out, almost as surprised by the offer as she appeared to be.

Dina looked at him. “Why?”

Shrugging, he said, “I can help you carry those trays, for one. Help set up, drive you to and from...”

“What’s going on with you?” Her dark brown eyes were fixed on his, gleaming with curiosity.

Good question, he thought. Even Connor wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to her. Why being around her made him feel more alive. More...hell. Just more. After that week in Ireland with her, he’d found that he wanted to be around her all the damn time. To hear her laugh. To watch her with the kids. To have her turn to him with those big dark eyes open and shining with pleasure.

To reach across his bed and have her turn in to his arms. But he wasn’t about to say all of that to her, so he went with the most immediate reason.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving around so late by yourself, is all.”

A slow, pleased smile curved her mouth just before she went up on her toes and planted a soft, quick kiss on his lips. “That is very sweet.”

Now Connor frowned. He wasn’t sweet. Ask anybody.

“Dina,” he said, catching her hand in his as she started to walk past him. His insides were tangled up in a mess of sensations, emotions and thoughts he didn’t want to explore. But there was one thing he had to say to her before she walked out of the room. One thing he wanted straightened out.

She looked down to where their hands were joined, then lifted her gaze to his again. “I can’t talk now, Connor. I’ve got a job and I have to go do it.”

He didn’t let her go. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze and held on. “Yeah. Another minute’s not going to make that much difference.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“Since we got back from Ireland, you’ve been staying in your own room.”

“Yeah,” she said, inhaling sharply, “I thought it would be best if we got back to reality.”

“Reality sucks,” he said, giving her hand a tug hard enough to pull her into him. He looked down into her eyes, let her see the need, the hunger in his. He lifted his free hand to cup her breast and smiled when she closed her eyes and sighed in response. Dragging his thumb across her nipple, he felt it harden even through her bra and the thin fabric of her shirt. “I want you, Dina. Right now, but I’ll settle for tonight.”

“Connor...” Whatever she was going to say changed as seconds ticked past with their gazes locked, their bodies pinned tightly together. She licked her lips, sending a zip of heat sliding through him.

“Okay,” she said at last, reaching to cover his hand on her breast with her own. “Tonight.”

“And then every night after,” he said, knowing he was pushing and not giving a good damn. Having his hands on her again was both torture and delight.

“And every night after,” she said softly, shaking her head as if she knew she was making a mistake but was determined to do it anyway. “This is crazy, you know that, right?”

“No. What’s crazy is knowing what we have together and not having it.”

She laughed shortly. “Still, not a good idea.”

“Best idea since pizza,” he countered.

“I guess we’ll see.” Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and moved away. “But for now, I’ve got to run. I should be back by one or so...”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said as his body tightened painfully, throbbing and aching with each hard slam of his heartbeat.

“Great. Good.” Nodding, she backed away from him and Connor’s gaze swept down, loving the look of her long, toned legs in those very tiny shorts.

She made it to the doorway and paused. Turning back to him, she gave him a warning stare. “No more sampling the goodies.”

“You’re the only goodie I’m interested in,” he said quietly.

“Oh, boy.” She swallowed hard, then left the room at a run, as if she didn’t trust herself to stay another minute.

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