The Billionaire’s Baby (15 page)

‘Here you go.’

Anna placed a steaming espresso in front of him, a pierced eyebrow raised. ‘Well? Are you going to make Cam’s day or not?’

‘Actually, I’ve been thinking about that…’

Crooking his finger, he waited till Anna leaned forward before divulging some of his plan and the part she had to play in it.

C
AMRYN
had just stepped out of the shower and towel-dried her hair when her mobile rang.

Staring at the display screen, her heart sank. It was the café, which had closed an hour ago, meaning the alarm—linked to her phone—was playing up again. Anna had mentioned it had been a problem while she was away.

Great. Looked like her plan to head on over to Blane’s straight after her jetlag-induced all-day nap and pick-me-up shower had hit a snag.

She loved the Niche, adored every chic inch, from the silk bolster cushions to the exposed beams and everything in between, but it was times like this where being her own boss wasn’t the be-all and end-all she’d once thought.

Dragging on her favourite purple yoga pants and matching striped hoodie, she slipped her feet into fuchsia flip-flops, grabbed her keys and headed to the café.

The buzz of Melbourne at night hit her as she stepped out of her apartment building and crossed the road to the café, and a thrill of pleasure shot through her.

This was why she’d moved here in the first place: the neon-lit restaurants, the bars packed to capacity with revellers spilling out onto the sidewalk, the glittering cityscape backdrop reflecting off the water.

Oh, yeah, Melbourne was where it was at…but was it where
she
was at these days? That all depended on one very sexy husband…

Shaking her head, she unlocked the rear door and slipped into the café, waiting for the beep of the alarm and, predictably, greeted by silence.

‘Useless piece of…’

She froze, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as she saw a silhouette rise from one of the sofas in the lounge area and turn towards her.

Adrenalin shot through her as she cast a desperate glance at the set of cake knives several metres away. Several long metres away, and as the shadow moved towards her, she stood paralysed, belatedly remembering the spate of robberies eleven months ago when she’d moved in with Blane, her heart in her mouth and her pulse hammering at a frightening pace, until she recognised who the intruder was. Sagging with relief against the bar, she took great gulps of air to fill her constricted lungs.

‘What are you doing here? You scared me half to death!’

Blane smiled, and her lungs didn’t let up. If anything, they seized more.

‘Sorry. I wanted to surprise you.’

‘Well, you certainly did that.’

His smile faded, and she realised how aggressive she sounded, softening her voice as she stepped out from behind the bar towards him. ‘Actually, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.’

‘Are you?’

He scanned her face, searching for answers she had every intention of giving him.

‘When you didn’t answer my email, I thought you might’ve m-moved on.’

She couldn’t even say the words, let alone think them.

‘I was giving you the space you needed.’

‘Oh. So now—’

‘That was then. This is now.’

Reaching out, he drew her to him gently, as if expecting a rebuff, when all she wanted to do was fling herself into his arms and hope he’d never let go.

‘I have so much to say to you,’ she murmured, her heart thumping at the hope in his eyes, forcing her to look away, only to focus on his lips instead.

‘There’s plenty of time to get to all that.’

Anticipation buzzed through her veins as the lips she found infinitely fascinating drifted towards her, promising the future she hoped they’d have once he heard her out.

However, talk was the furthest thing from her mind as his lips brushed hers, once, twice, before crushing hers in a passionate, mind-blowing kiss, effectively obliterating everything but this moment, this man.

Pyrotechnics exploded in her head as he deepened the kiss, rockets and sparklers and pinwheels of sensation ricocheting through her, his tongue teasing hers, his hands everywhere, exploring, touching, caressing, driving, wild need pounding through her till she could barely stand. She clung to him, in desperate need of an anchor in a world turned topsy-turvy when she least expected it.

She’d dreamed of him, of this kind of kiss, all through Europe, had harboured a secret yearning that her trip would miraculously change things for them, and she’d come back ready to take a chance on for ever. Well, it looked like she’d got both her wishes, though right now the kiss was taking over everything.

But it couldn’t. She had too much to say to him.

On a soft sigh, she broke the kiss, burying her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply, his subtle cedar scent filling her, soothing her weary soul.

‘So, I guess we should get around to having that chat,’ he said, smoothing her hair in a rhythmic, lulling motion that had her snuggling into him further. ‘Hey! You cut your hair.’

He pulled back, running his fingers through her chopped, layered locks, a bemused expression on his face.

‘Took you long enough to notice.’

Her mock frown didn’t last as he rubbed several strands between his fingertips, the sexy glint in his eyes telling her he approved of her new look.

‘It looks great.’ He captured her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones, his tender expression conveying more than words ever could. ‘You look great.’

She could say the same about him, but she’d never been one for understatement. He looked sensational, from the top of his wind-ruffled brown hair to the soles of his well-worn sneakers. After spending months in Paris, Rome, Milan and Venice, she’d seen lots of hot guys in designer duds, but not one of those well-dressed, smooth European men could hold a candle to the guy who made denim and a cotton T-shirt look like
haute couture
.

Capturing his hands, she tugged them down, his touch creating havoc when she needed her wits about her.

‘Come on. I really have to say some stuff before I burst.’

Wariness flickered in his eyes, and he grabbed her hand as if fearing she’d flee.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She squeezed his hand as she slid onto the nearest bar stool and patted the one beside her.

‘Does that mean now or ever?’

‘That depends on you.’

To her surprise he released her hand, propping against the bar rather than taking a seat, his serious expression sending her nerves into overdrive.

‘You know how I feel, but I’m not going to push you
anymore. You’ve had your time away. You’ve done what you had to do. And I’m still here. But this is it, Cam. I love you, but I’m not going to spend my life waiting around for someone who doesn’t love me enough in return. So why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?’

Fair enough, but where did she start? She wasn’t prepared for this. In Europe, she’d mentally rehearsed this exact scenario a million times, yet, now that her little problem with a faulty alarm had turned into a golden opportunity with the man she loved, she was lost for words!

Reaching up to tug on her plait, she came up empty, and that was when it hit her. She’d start with the hair, and the rest would follow.

‘I had a hair cut in Rome. Exactly twenty minutes after I had an epiphany.’

He didn’t say a word, and his raised eyebrow conveyed scepticism rather than interest in what she had to say.

‘I was sitting in a piazza, having coffee, knowing it was all wrong without you there. The whole trip was wrong without you to share it with.’

He frowned, confusion clouding his handsome face. ‘But I thought that’s what you wanted?’

‘I did. At least, I thought I did. I was so caught up in returning the favour you did me that I lost sight of one salient fact. Your dream is my dream, too.’

‘So what are you saying? You want to try and have a baby?’

Her mouth twitched. ‘Actually, it’s too late for that.’

Silence. A long, drawn-out, tension-filled silence broken by the slight hum of the cake fridge and the sharp crack of ice from the freezer.

Okay, so she’d kind of rushed the most important part of her speech, but now it was out there she needed reassurance. Heck, she needed him to bundle her back into his arms and
say it was the best news he’d ever had, and that they’d spend the rest of their lives together.

‘Are you saying—’

‘I’m pregnant!’

His grey eyes widened with shock as he ran a hand over his smooth jaw, an almost comical look on his face when he distractedly realised he’d shaved rather than sporting the stubble she adored.

‘Pregnant? But…but…’

‘Pretty amazing, huh?’

He didn’t move. Not a muscle, not a twinge, and fear rocketed through her that she’d pushed him away so far there was no coming back.

‘I don’t believe it.’

He opened and closed his mouth several times, doing a fair goldfish impression, before a slow smile spread across his face. ‘We’re going to have a baby.’

‘We sure are.’

She hopped off the bar stool and stood there, shuffling from one foot to another, impatient for him to sweep her into his arms and tell her this was the start of the happily ever after he’d always wanted.

Instead, he just stood there, his goofy grin fading, replaced by a wary glint in his eyes.

‘This is why you came back. Not because you want me or this marriage so badly you can taste it, but out of obligation.’

‘No!’

Bunching his T-shirt in her fists, she shook him, willing him to believe her when she hadn’t done much to inspire it lately.

‘I came back for you, only you. It’s always been you. The baby is a bonus, an amazing, precious miracle, but I’d already made up my mind to come back before I discovered I was pregnant.’

She relaxed her hands, splaying her palms against his chest, feeling the rock-steady beat of his heart, never surer that she wanted to feel it for the rest of her life.

‘I love you, Blane. No more trips. No more putting your dreams ahead of mine. This time it’s going to be
our
dreams all the way. That’s what I want. What about you?’

After an eternity, his expression softened and he covered her hands with his, gently prying them loose before intertwining his fingers with one of them.

‘Come on. I’ll show you what I want.’

Taut with tension, her nerves strung tighter than Cupid’s bow, she fell into step beside him, somewhat reassured by the fact he was holding her hand while terrified he hadn’t actually spelled out what he wanted yet.

‘Where are you taking…’

The rest of her question died on her lips as he led her around the corner into the private lounge area of the café and she caught sight of her favourite part of the Niche decked out in countless tea-lights casting dancing shadows against the mauve walls.

‘How did you do this?’

‘Anna.’

He led her forward, and she gasped as she caught sight of her favourite pink champagne truffles, imported from an exquisite chocolatier in the UK, laid out on a silver platter, next to a matching silver bucket with a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon champagne waiting to be opened. Brushing a kiss against her lips, he hit the play button on the sound system remote, and the crooning sounds of ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ filled the air, her starry-eyed gaze locking with his, her heart expanding with love.

‘Why did you do this?’

Drawing her down onto a sofa, he reached behind a bol
ster cushion and handed her a small square box. Her heart stuttered, her pulse pounded, and her brain refused to compute the implications of what could be inside such a delicate, tiny box.

‘I think you’ll find your explanation in there.’

Raising wide eyes to his, she fumbled the box, catching it before it landed in the truffles, all thumbs when it came to untying the thin silver ribbon and flipping open the top. Her breath caught as she nudged the top open and peered inside, disappointment ricocheting through her as she poked the silver key chain with a miniature coffee cup dangling from it, the heady premature elation of a moment ago dissipating in an instant.

‘It’s a key chain.’

Her voice sounded flat, and she dragged her gaze to meet his, confused by the sparkle in his eyes.

Taking the box from her, he opened the palm of her hand and slid the key chain into it before closing her fingers over it.

‘Ah…but it’s not just any key chain. It goes with this.’

He reached behind another cushion and produced a flat, slim parcel wrapped in indigo embossed paper, tied with more fancy silver string.

‘If this is some weird Valentine’s Day thing—’

‘Just open it.’

He pushed the parcel towards her, and she had no option but to place the key ring on the table and open her next surprise, more than a little confused when the wrapping fell away to reveal a map.

‘Maybe I’m still jetlagged, but I’m not getting this,’ she said, raising an eyebrow as the corners of his mouth twitched.

Easy for him to laugh; she’d just unburdened her soul a few minutes ago hoping for the same from him, and all she’d got were a few bizarre presents.

Taking the map out of her hands, he unfolded it, laid it on the coffee table, and smoothed it flat.

‘Here. This should make things a lot clearer.’

He pointed to a large red X in the heart of Melbourne. ‘The café is here.’

‘Hmm, much clearer…not.’

Her brows knit in concentration as she followed his finger as he traced a major arterial to another red X.

‘Barwon Heads is here.’

‘Yeah…’

A glimmer of hope had her clenching her hands to stop from reaching out for the map and rattling it in his face, urging him to get to the point.

‘It’s approximately eighty-five minutes between here and there. Short enough to commute if someone wanted to have the best of both worlds. A little sea change mingled with a healthy dose of city life, perhaps?’

The tiny bud of joy in her heart unfurled and blossomed as she pushed aside the map and flung herself into his arms, her loud ‘woo-hoo’ reverberating around the empty café.

‘I take it this means you like the idea?’

His confident grin had her whacking his chest in a playful slap.

‘You had this planned all along? Even before I told you how I felt?’