The Billionaire Baby Bombshell (9 page)

Smothering her panic, she dropped her eyes to her plate. Despite the hurt she’d caused him, despite their unrequited fling that had fizzled before it had even started, Alex’s intention was crystal clear.

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Did you invite me to dinner to try and seduce me, Alex?”

Her directness didn’t faze him. “Do you want me to?”

Her limbs became suddenly lethargic. “No,” she lied.

“Why not?” His mouth curled.

Because I don’t think I can get over you a second time
. “Why would you want to?”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “Answering a question with a question, Yelena?”

She sighed, refolding her napkin to keep her hands occupied. “We hurt each other, Alex. Our past is complicated.”

“Yes. But we’re here. Now.”

He rose with the fluid grace of a dancer, a powerful expanse of potent male. She had to crank her neck up to meet his eyes.

“I’m your PR manager.” Nervous now, she, too, stood. But that didn’t stop him from encroaching on her personal space.

“Does Bennett & Harper have some morality clause I don’t know about?”

How the hell had he gotten so close?
His familiar scent tightened her senses, sending subversive shivers over her skin. He smelt of leather, of passion and defiance and warmth. Of losing control. Of Alex.

“Morality clause…?” she choked out. “No.”

When his fingers slid slowly between hers, linking them in a shockingly intimate touch, her senses jolted into overdrive.

“See?” He lifted their entwined fingers, his gaze full of secret knowledge. “We have something here.”

“It doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, either.”

“Alex…”

She heard the rumble in his throat, just as his eyes briefly closed. “Do you have any idea what my name on your lips does to me?”

And suddenly the time for talking was over.

Alex didn’t waste a second on niceties—on the contrary, he took it as if her acquiescence was a given. As if it were his right. And in many ways it was. They’d already been as close as two people could be without actual consummation. And if she were honest with herself, Yelena had missed him. Missed the way his laugh engulfed her like warm flames. Missed his off-beat humor and flirty banter. Missed the feel of his skin
against hers. Missed the sensual curve of his mouth and the way it made her want to lose herself, control be damned.

When she leaned in, mouth trembling, a bolt of triumph cleaved into Alex’s brain. She wanted him—he’d
made
her want him. Yet in the next instant, white-hot desire saturated every sense, every muscle in his body. He growled, a sound that felt half wild, half uncontrollable, the way she’d always made him feel, and roughly pulled her up against his chest.

She made a small sound but didn’t protest, which only fired him up even more. His mouth dipped down, ready to claim hers, but in the last moment, she shoved his chest, her palms hot, knowing she could feel his heart pounding through his shirt.

He stared into her dark eyes, their long lashes heavy with arousal. His blood pounded solidly, breath catching. Did she not want—?

“Let me.”

The warm whisper skimming across his mouth did him in. All he wanted to do was rip off her clothes and take her on the ground, surrounded by this raw, primitive backdrop, yet he remained rock still, his groin throbbing with need.

She gently placed her hands at the back of his neck and slid her fingers up through his hair, murmuring appreciatively as she stroked his nape. And as his senses pitched, she pulled his head down.

Her lips brushed his for a second. Then another. She dragged in a breath, almost as if kissing him were somehow painful. But then her eyes opened and a smile spread across her entire face, a smile so full of sensual knowledge that he couldn’t help but answer it with one of his own.

Because in the sweetness of her kiss, the pureness she’d given him, he didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping his distance. Nothing short of a cyclone could stop him now.

As if sensing the thin line he teetered on, she kissed him again, this time with her eyes wide open, those chocolate-
velvet depths reaching in, grabbing what was left of his control and yanking on it, hard.

Yelena felt as if every inch of her skin had completely exploded, that every touch, every smell, every taste was just too much to stand. His arms wrapped her tight up against him, his hard, throbbing maleness jamming into her belly with purposeful intent. The familiar smell of his skin engulfed her, every breath she took filling her up. And the taste…oh, his taste was something she’d always loved. She’d missed that. His mouth covered her bottom lip, gently sucking on the swell. He nibbled, he teased for long, sensual seconds. Then, finally he committed, capturing her mouth and twisting her head into a deep, heart-stopping kiss.

His tongue swept past her lips, teasing hers, encouraging her to respond. So she did, with all the pent-up passion and desire she’d locked away these past months.

Slowly, through the drugging waves of desire, she felt him turn her around and in the next second, the back of her thighs bumped up against the table. Groaning, Alex broke the kiss.

“I always wanted to do this.”

And with a grin, he leaned in and cleared the table with one sweep of his arm.

The terrible crash of falling plates and dishes made her gasp, even as a giggle filled her throat.

“I can’t wait,” he added at her wide eyes.

Her skin flushed hot.

In one easy movement, he cupped her bottom and lifted her onto the table and they kissed again, this time with Alex jammed hard between her thighs. Dazed and drunk from his kisses, she barely felt him unsnap the buttons of her jeans, but when his fingers grazed inside to caress her warmth on the way down, she groaned, hot, demanding desire filling her limbs, her lungs.

He managed to peel both her jeans and knickers off and she gasped as her naked bottom made contact with the cold
table. Then his hands were on her knees, caressing her skin beneath warm palms. She shivered. “Cold?”

She shook her head and his wolfish grin shot her pulse sky-high. That’s what she remembered, the way that devilish smile transformed his sculptured face into sin. Desire, so often cloaked in caution, now blazed from his azure eyes.

He studied her, watching her every expression, every tiny movement as his hands continued their excruciatingly slow journey upwards. They stroked her thighs, kneading the muscle beneath her hot skin. First outside, tracing every curve, then slowly, sensuously dipping in to the soft flesh of her inner thighs. When her body quivered in response he chuckled, but still she kept her eyes fixed on his, determined not to break first.

He raised one eyebrow, his look frankly seductive.
Just try it,
her expression said, even as her mouth teased upwards.

Suddenly he fell to his knees, eased her legs apart and the world stopped spinning.

He kissed her inner thigh, his hot breath stirring her curls and eliciting another shiver.

“Relax, Yelena, and enjoy it.”

On trembling arms, she leaned back with a groan and gave herself up to the pleasure of pure sensation.

His mouth, warm and insistent, met the most intimate part of her and she jerked, gasping. She’d craved him before, needed his touch so desperately it had hurt. But now, as his tongue skillfully made love to her, every past desire faded into pale comparison.

“Alex…” She heard her half plea, half beg, but felt no shame. His tongue and mouth teased her into a frenzy, building her up with such ridiculous ease she had to bite down on her lip, to hold on to the climax that swelled so close to the surface.

Just when she thought she was doomed, she felt him ease back, his mouth placing gentle kisses along her inner thigh.

She gritted her teeth, groaning her frustration aloud.

He stroked her thighs, nuzzling his chin against her damp skin. “Come for me, Yelena.”

All she could do was whimper her acquiescence, her mind whirling with a thousand colors and sensations. Yet she was acutely aware of Alex returning to her, of his skillful tongue as it dipped in and out of her core, his stubbled chin creating rough erotic friction as it rubbed against her hot, sensitive nub.

Her most secret scent surrounded Alex, filling every sense and stoking his lust until he could hardly think straight. Her thighs quivered, he felt her body charge with the sweet release even before he heard her small cry of pleasure.

His groin pressed excruciatingly hard against his fly and he gritted his teeth to force it under control, waiting until Yelena climaxed before he freed himself.

She did, loudly, almost triumphantly. Animal satisfaction charged though his veins, a grunt of victory on his lips. With a final kiss to that sweet flesh on her inner thigh, he swiftly stood and yanked down his jeans.

The picture she presented—leaning back on her elbows, gorgeous face an erotic picture of female satiation as her hair tumbled over one shoulder and down her back—was all it took. Needing no further encouragement, he quickly stepped between her legs, fumbled with the condom packet he’d pulled from his jacket, rolled it on then buried himself in her hot wetness.

Their breath came out in perfect unison, sweet pleasure echoing in the raw, still air.

Spots danced behind his eyes, forcing him to pause, to savor the exquisite, almost painful pleasure of her warmth closing around him. With gritted teeth he waited for control, barely registering that Yelena had removed her top and bra and now lay completely bare for him.

His eyes widened at the sight. Lush curves, defined waist,
breasts a man could lose himself in. He leaned forward, gathering her up and burying his face in the valley between those beautiful mounds. The deep breath he took spun his head.

“Lord, Yelena,” he breathed into her skin. “If the world ended tonight, I’d die a happy man.”

He felt the laughter rumble through her body, yet when his mouth latched on to one brown erect nipple, she gasped.

He grinned.

“You…” Yelena breathed, before longing obliterated her rebuke. His tongue was now intent on her hard nipple, flicking over and over until she began to squirm.

Inside, he tightened in response.

Oh
… Slowly his eyes met hers, now navy with desire. His mouth curled into a smile, partially hidden by the curve of her breast, yet it still had the power to make her wet. Then he left that breast, crossing to the other with no great urgency while inside, she could feel everything build up again.

“Alex, please…”

“Settle,” he crooned, placing a hand on her belly as if she was a horse ready to bolt, sending her impatience skyrocketing.

She jerked her hips, squeezing her inner muscles with a soft growl and was rewarded by his tight gasp. Unable to stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down and whispered something so outrageously erotic that it stunned even herself.

But it had the desired effect. His groan was pure animal, sending her desire off the charts. He began to move, deep, long thrusts that forced every breath to rush out on the down stroke while every inch of her skin sang with pleasure on the up.

Alex felt the familiar aching joy of orgasm blast him in one almighty wave, only seconds behind Yelena. Every muscle screamed for release as pleasure ripped through him,
exploding. He heard a guttural groan in the air, knew it must be his, shocked yet primitively proud to be claiming this moment, this woman, as his.

She moved under him, slick and hot, her nipples pebbling as a cool breeze whispered between them. He reached out, an unsteady hand cupping one breast, warming the cooling flesh.

The moment hung, lengthened, the only sound their mingled breath as heart rates began to slow.

When she shivered, he withdrew, a soft murmur her only reaction.

His withdrawal left Yelena suddenly bereft, the cold air pricking her skin. She quickly reached for her clothes, hearing him do the same.

For some odd reason, her nerves jumped, and not in a good way. As she snapped on her jeans, she heard him flip out his phone, curtly directing his staff to clear away what was left of their meal. All the while, a silent strangeness sat between them. She wanted—needed—to say something more but the words just wouldn’t form. She bent to zip up her boots.
Say something. Anything.
Yet the only sound was a lone dingo howling in the distance. “Yelena.”

“Please don’t say anything to spoil it, Alex.” She zipped up her jacket with stiff fingers, refusing to meet his eyes. She didn’t have to see him to know he was frowning. She’d always been astute to his moods—especially irritation.

A moment passed before he said quietly, “Are you ready to go?”

She shoved her hands in her jean pockets and nodded, focusing on the bike and the dry dusty scrub surrounding them—everything but him.

They crunched through the grass and sand in silence. She took the helmet he proffered then swung her leg over the bike, covering a wince as her tender thighs screamed in protest.

As they drove back to Diamond Falls, Yelena allowed herself the guilty luxury of his warmth, his powerful body between her legs. Just like it had been, gloriously hard and naked, pleasuring her not more than ten minutes ago.

Thoughts whirled as the night tore past with cold, sharp fingers. Chemistry they had. But a future? Not when there was too much past between them, so many secrets that weren’t hers to reveal.

You can’t tell anyone. Not a single soul.
For Bella’s safety, for Yelena’s, Gabriela had sworn her to secrecy. Which meant she couldn’t tell Alex the truth. Ever.

She stared off into the night as tears welled then fell down her cheeks before the helmet’s thick padding quickly absorbed them.

Nine

T
he next morning Pam, Alex and Yelena gathered around the conference table in Yelena’s office.

Yelena had dressed conservatively in a pair of dark gray pants and a three-quarter-sleeved aqua silk shirt. She’d slicked her hair back, twisting it into an elaborate knot at the base of her neck. Yet every time Alex glanced at her, she might as well have been only wearing underwear the way her skin warmed. And then last night’s memories quickly followed, causing every intimate part to tingle and leaving her with an uncomfortable feeling of longing.

Ahh. Last night.

When they’d returned to Diamond Bay, she’d eased off the bike before he’d barely killed the engine and offered a quick “Thank you for dinner” before practically fleeing to her room without a backwards glance.

Thank you for dinner?
How lame was she?

Now she pointedly looked away, trying to ignore the
delicious curve of his bottom lip. Lips that had made her climax again and again…

More like,
thank you for rocking my world.

“Do you want coffee, Yelena?”

She snapped her eyes up to Pam, who had a cup in hand.

“Thank you.” She accepted with a smile and took a scalding sip.

Quickly she replaced the cup and drew her notepad forward.

“So I thought we could talk about where we’re at with this campaign.” She paused, looking at each one in turn before continuing. “We all know the press’s direction these last few months. My aim is to turn that around.”

“How can you make everyone forget what’s been spread in the papers?” Alex asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I can’t. We need to focus on the good stuff—charity and community works that will counteract all that gossip.”

“You mean we need to suck up.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to do anything you’d be uncomfortable with. For example, Pam—” she smiled at Alex’s mother “—I love your party idea. In fact, what do you think about calling it the ‘Sunset Party’? We could use the gorgeous Outback sunset colors as our signature—red, yellow, dark blue, black—” she refused to falter when her eyes briefly met Alex’s “—on decorations and invitations. I have an action plan we can work on together if you’d like.”

Pam’s face lit up. “I’d be happy to. I also thought we could hire out our boutique clothing for the locals who want to go all out. That way they can dress up but not think we’re handing out charity.”

Yelena smiled. “That’s a great idea. So looking further along—in the next few months it will be slow but steady. One thing I want to address is interviews. Television only, because I can get final edit approval and unlike print, there’s less room
for misinterpretation. I have contacts with a few stations so I was going to push for
A Current Affair
and—”

“What would we say?” Alex interjected.

Yelena met his combative gaze but before she could answer he added, “Let me rephrase that—what do we
need
to say?”

Yelena leaned back in her chair. “The truth.”

His face turned dark. “The public has the truth.”

“Not in your own words, it doesn’t.”

When Alex opened his mouth, Pam interjected, “Yelena’s right, Alex. You haven’t said anything about—” she hesitated “—that night.”

“Mum.” Just like that, Alex’s anger deflated. “Do you really want to dredge that up again?”

A meaningful look passed between them, one that brought a scowl to Alex’s brow and lurched Yelena’s burning curiosity into overdrive.

“Leave that with us,” Alex finally said in a tone that indicated no further discussion. “What else do you have?”

“Alex.” Yelena said firmly, linking her fingers together on the tabletop. “I’ve been working in PR ever since I left uni, nearly eight years ago. I’ve had a hand in hundreds of campaigns, from musicians, politicians, doctors and bankers Australia-wide.”

“What—”

“Please, let me finish. You chose me because I’m damn good at my job. So can you please trust me to do it?”

She met his silent scrutiny head on, even as her mind suddenly flashed back to last night, to his warm, skillful fingers, his passion-riddled face, the decadent smile as he swooped down for another kiss.

Her skin flared, shocking her. She shook her head, desperate to refocus. “I know it’s…difficult sometimes, to open up and reveal things you’d rather keep private. But I need to know you have confidence in me handling this campaign.”

“I do,” he replied without hesitation.

“So what is it? You’re the client,” she stressed, determined to cement that fact in her mind. “Do you think I’d do something without your approval?”

“No.”

“Then trust me.” She slid a list forward, one for each of them. “Here’s what I’m going to focus on these next six months. Interviews, yes, but only with reporters I have a standing relationship with.” She met Pam’s eyes fleetingly. “I can trust these people to be fair and compassionate.”

“Really.”

Alex’s snort of derision irritated her. “Yes. Believe it or not, there are some good guys out there.” She nodded to the list and changed tack. “Besides the obvious interviews, there are a few nonofficial things that can subtly boost our profile without taking center stage—
Woman’s Weekly
holds an annual Mother’s Day shoot, featuring seven high-profile mothers and their children, for example.”

Pam looked up and nodded. “I like that.”

Encouraged, Yelena smiled.

“‘An Australia Day event,’” Alex read. “‘Guest spot on
Better Homes and Gardens
’…”

Yelena nodded. “With your solar energy and water recycling, Diamond Falls has an excellent green policy. The public loves the environmental angle, especially from a high-profile business. If you’re willing, we can look at a ‘give back to the earth’ plan, where we can, say, support and fund the reintroduction of native wildlife that’s under threat in the area.”

“The Gouldian finch,” Pam said quickly, naming the tiny, distinctive purple, yellow, green and blue birds. “It’s endangered here, as are the golden bandicoot and the loggerhead turtle. I have details and Web sites with more information,” she added. “And the Alice Springs Bird Festival runs mid-September, so I’d love to get involved in that somehow.”

“I’m sure we can. Thanks, Pam.” Instinctively, Yelena knew
she’d hit on something important, something that mattered to Alex’s mother. Passion for a cause meant drive, which was always positive.

“‘Chelsea fashion magazine intern’?” Alex read from the list.

“Yes. This one has an added bonus,” Yelena said. “I know
Dolly
’s senior editor is planning a series of ‘dream job’ articles starting January, and ‘fashion intern’ is one of them. A photographer and reporter would follow her around for a day, taking snaps and letting readers know what she does.” She looked over at Pam, adding, “Of course, I haven’t mentioned this to Chelsea. It’s just ideas at the moment and totally subject to approval, of course.”

The moment of silence spread, until Pam said slowly, “I think Chelsea would love it.”

“What about school?” Alex said.

“She’s doing fine with tutors, Alex,” Pam assured him.

“Her tennis?”

Pam gave him a long, meaningful look. “She’s never wanted to pursue it professionally, darling. And now she has a chance to do something she’s truly passionate about.”

Alex paused, his expression unreadable. “We should talk about this later,” he finally said.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve made up my mind.”

Surprise flitted across his face before he shut it down. “Okay.”

An odd feeling attached itself to Yelena’s skin like remnants of a Band-Aid that refused to disappear even after you ripped the thing off. It continued to stick until their meeting broke up and she finally felt compelled to act.

“Alex? Can I talk with you a moment?”

He nodded, closed the door but remained standing. Nervous, she got to her feet then spent a few seconds silently reworking what she wanted to say in her head.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Alex finally said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And in reply, yes, it was good—no, great. And no, it doesn’t have to change anything.”

She blinked, startled. “That’s not what I was—”

“Yelena, you don’t owe me anything,” he said shortly. “We haven’t exactly promised each other fidelity. Hell,” he snorted, a terrible self-derogatory sound. “Given our past, that’d be a stretch anyway.”

What?
Yelena frowned, her mind whirling with confusion until an awful clarity dawned. He was letting her off the hook for getting pregnant with another man. Worse, he was implying what they had hadn’t been all that important anyway. Her heart thudded sickeningly as an awful thought reared up.

It made perfect sense from his perspective.

She swallowed that pain, that dreadful searing hurt he’d delivered with such worldly blasé.
Later. Later, when you’re alone.
“Actually, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s your mother.”

A frown skittered across his brow. “Why?”

“Do you want to sit?”

“No.”

She sighed. “Okay. Look, I think there’s something going on with her…” She paused, searching for the right words. “Something she’s not saying.”

“Like what?”

“Well, it’s more of a feeling, a sense I get when we talk.” At Alex’s narrowed eyes, she added, “For instance, she never mentions your father unless I bring him up. She’s not overly affected by all the infidelity accusations. I know he was a brilliant businessman, a self-made man and most are absolute perfectionists.”

“Your point?”

Boy, this wasn’t any easier even now she’d verbalized it. “Did your parents have a good marriage? Was everything okay?”

He gave her a thorough going-over, eyes astute, hands resting on his hips. Finally he said coolly, “And how is this any of your business?”

She flushed. “I thought—”

“I hired you to do a job, Yelena, not psychoanalyze my family. I’d appreciate you sticking with that. Now if you don’t mind, I have a phone conference.”

Leaving her openmouthed and cheeks flushed, Alex turned and stalked out the door.

It was over, buried with William Rush. He could not—would not—dig about in the past. It didn’t affect just him; it had repercussions for his entire family.

It was better this way, putting Yelena back in her rightful place as his PR consultant. Keeping her focused on her job providing positive spin.

Better, better, better
. His feet echoed the chant as he strode down the hall, back to his office. So why did he feel like such a jerk?

He slammed his office door behind him, the sound shaking the walls, reverberating down the hall.

Amongst all the peripheral crap going on in his life, the one constant was his dark, burning need for that woman. Yes, Carlos had betrayed his trust and that would live with him until the day he died. But Yelena… Lord, she’d killed him when she’d disappeared. The one person he thought he could count on, the only one not involved in the media circus of his life and she’d not only wormed her way under his armor but had also taken his trust and ground it into the dirt.

He’d been mentally bereft.

He swung away from the door, towards the expansive view from crystal-clear windows.

His world had been black-and-white, until she’d returned and screaming color had crashed in. Yet he couldn’t surrender that power again. He couldn’t afford the devastation it would leave in its wake.

 

Yelena was grateful for the sudden frantic work load of the upcoming party—it meant she could claim to be legitimately busy and not think about what had transpired these last few days. And Alex must have felt the same way, judging by the way he pointedly avoided being alone with her.

Even though he’d declared their past a nonissue, Yelena could feel the ghosts dog her every moment from that point on. It made talking business awkward, it made every movement calculated so she didn’t accidentally touch him. So incredibly exasperating when all she
wanted
to do was touch him.

Even as her efforts began to snowball into a solid campaign, she was still relieved when six o’clock rolled around and she could spend time with her daughter. Chelsea had taken to dropping by every night and Yelena gratefully welcomed the company and her obvious attentiveness to Bella. To her delight Pam turned up on Friday night and they all spent a pleasant evening watching television and eating dinner.

When Yelena’s phone rang, she was midlaugh at something Chelsea had said. It was Jonathon, calling to approve her request to stay another week. But in the course of that brief exchange, Yelena sensed something was off. His next words confirmed it. When she hung up, her good mood evaporated.

“Problem?” Pam asked, her legs curled elegantly beneath her on the sofa.

“Just work. Can you keep an ear out for Bella? I need to see Alex about something.”

Yelena grabbed her room card and strode out the door, oblivious to the look Pam and Chelsea exchanged as edginess began to swirl swiftly in her belly.

She knocked on Alex’s door and after a moment it swung open. Before he could say a word, she swept past him then pivoted in the middle of the room, arms crossed.

“I just got a call from my boss,” she started without preamble.

He scratched his chin, a harsh yet intimate sound in the warm room. “You’re going to have to elaborate here.”

“Did you tell him that we’re romantically involved?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yelena, I’ve not spoken with the man for nearly a week.”

He tipped his head, hands on his hips. It was then Yelena finally noticed his clothes…or rather, lack of them. His white shirt, unbuttoned and rumpled, teased open to reveal the curves and planes of a magnificent torso. Her eyes trailed slowly down, skimming over his chest to his stomach. His muscles were a work of finest sculpture, chiseled and touchable under warm, tanned skin, before tapering down to slim hips encased in black pants, belt suggestively unbuckled.

Too late she snapped her eyes up to his, the full body flush warming every inch of her skin.

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