The Billionaire’s Baby (7 page)

‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Now, I need to lock up and get some shut-eye. Big day tomorrow.’

‘No worries.’

Downing his iced coffee in a few thirsty gulps, he placed the glass in the sink behind the bar and ran the tap. ‘You said you lived nearby. Want me to walk you there? I’ve heard there’s been some trouble around here lately.’

Chuckling, she jerked a thumb over her left shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not walking anywhere. I’m sleeping out the back while my apartment’s being renovated.’

‘You’re kidding?’

He shook his head, his horrified expression sending a warm glow through her. He still cared about her, even if she didn’t want him to.

‘There’s no way you’re staying here. A locksmith on a job today said almost every café and restaurant along this strip has been broken into late at night or in the early hours, and he was called out this morning to the sushi place in the next block.’

‘Really?’

She hadn’t heard. Then again, the Niche had been running on one speed—flat out—since she’d opened up around eight. ‘Did they take much?’

Stepping closer, he laid a hand on her upper arm, his touch sending slivers of searing heat crackling through her.

‘They didn’t only rob the place. They knifed one of the kitchen hands who’d come in early to do some prep.’

‘Oh, no!’ Her hand flew to her mouth, her stomach roiling in shock at such a horrific, violent act happening so close to home. ‘Was he okay?’

‘It was a woman. Which is why you’re not staying here on your own, no matter what you say.’

Shrugging off his hand, she squared her shoulders. ‘Look, I’ll be fine. I’m used to taking care of myself. And, besides, I have an alarm.’

His lips set in a thin, stubborn line. ‘You don’t think they had an alarm at the sushi place? Or all the other places along this precinct?’

He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw set, his exasperation palpable.

‘These guys slashed that poor girl even after she’d handed over the takings; it’s pretty obvious they’re brazen, hardened criminals who don’t give a damn about who they hurt or how badly. So there’s no way you’re staying here alone. Haven’t you got someone you can stay with?’

‘Do you think I’d be sleeping on a dodgy fold-out camp bed in the storeroom if I did?’

The sarcastic response popped out before she could think, and she mentally clamped a hand over her big mouth. Great, now he’d think she was a loser with no friends, when the truth of the matter was…well…apart from Anna, who rented a single room in a boarding house, she wasn’t close to anyone.

She’d liked it that way, had fostered her independence deliberately when she’d first come to Melbourne, eager to obliterate her painful memories of Blane and her traitorous parents and the baby that would never be by burying herself in making the Niche the best darn café this city had ever seen.

She’d learned it was easier not to rely on people, for they always let you down no matter how close or how much you loved them.

‘Well, then, there’s only one thing for it.’

She didn’t like the intent in his eyes, his rigid expression. ‘You’ll have to stay with me.’

‘No way!’

The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Would you like some more time to think about your answer?’

Shaking her head, she backed away from him. Silly, really, as if physical distance could stop the current vibrating between them.

‘Thanks for the offer, but—’

‘Cam, this is non-negotiable. You’re not safe here, and there isn’t a hope in hell I’m taking no for an answer. You’re staying with me till your renovations are done, and that’s final.’

‘Is it now?’

Folding her arms over her chest, she tilted her chin and glared at him, hating his high-and-mighty attitude while a small part of her couldn’t help but love this new, take-charge Blane.

He’d always been so laid-back, so unruffled, and she’d loved that about him, yet this new commanding, powerful, take-no-prisoners guy was pretty impressive, too.

‘Look, this doesn’t have to be complicated.’ He held his hands out, palms up, as if he didn’t have any tricks up his sleeves. ‘I’m not trying to pressure you, and this isn’t some underhanded, dastardly plan to get you where I want you.’

Crossing the small space between them, he cradled her
face before she could move, his touch warm and soothing and oh-so-right. ‘I care about you. And if it makes you feel any better, just consider my offer as that of a friend, no strings attached, okay?’

Was he insane? No strings attached? Not only were they bound by strings, they were lassoed, hog-tied and entangled in thick unbreakable rope.

If seeing him again after all this time was hard, living under the same roof would be pure torture.

She couldn’t do it.

However, she hadn’t got as far as she had in the city without a healthy serving of common sense, and right now her street savvy was telling her she was taking her independent stand to extremes.

She could trust Blane, he’d always been a man of his word, and if he was offering her a safe place to stay, she’d be smart to take it.

The Niche might be her life, but she’d be stupid to risk losing hers over it.

Staring up into his eyes, the flecks glowing cobalt, she knew there was only one answer she could give him: the sensible one.

He dropped his hands as she nodded slowly. ‘Okay. Thanks for the offer.’

She could have sworn he sagged with relief, and the depth of his caring struck her anew.

‘Great. Ready to go?’

‘Actually, I need to finalise some stuff before tomorrow, so why don’t you go ahead, and I’ll swing past your place later?’

‘No, I’ll wait.’

She laid a hand on his arm, hoping to convey her thanks at his chivalry. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s still early. There are people everywhere, and I’ll be sure to leave before dark.’

His gaze flickered to her hand, shaded and inscrutable, before slowly rising to meet hers. ‘You sure?’

She nodded. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Indecision warred with stubbornness across his face as she squeezed his arm. ‘Go. I promise I won’t be long behind you.’

After a long moment, he covered her hand with his. ‘Ring me if you need someone to walk you out of here, okay?’

Smiling at his overprotectiveness, and feeling suitably warm and fuzzy because of it, she said, ‘Okay.’

‘I live in the Eureka Towers on Southbank. Apartment 8801. I’ll buzz you up when you get there. Take care.’

Dropping an all-too-brief kiss on her cheek, he sent her a half-salute and walked away, leaving her with the craziest urge to run after him.

C
AMRYN
stared at the elevator buttons in confusion.

‘This can’t be right,’ she thought, wondering if she should pop out to the doorman and ask him to re-buzz Blane and double-check.

According to the fancy engraved writing above the gold buttons there was only one apartment, 8801, on the entire eighty-eighth floor of the swanky Eureka Towers. Only one? Considering the building was ninety-two storeys, and the eighty-eighth was the highest anyone could access, she’d hazard a guess Blane lived in the penthouse.

A penthouse which covered a whole floor?

Shaking her head in disbelief, she hit the button for 8801 and backed against the rear of the elevator, finding small comfort in the feel of hard, cold, gold-plated steel panels at her back, while her startled reflection stared back at her from surrounding mirrored glass.

Either he made an absolute fortune out of building or he was house-sitting for someone. And if so, he certainly moved in higher circles than she did.

She vaguely remembered the publicity surrounding the Towers when it first opened, about it being the tallest residential tower in the world and a penthouse costing around seven
million dollars. The figure alone made her feel faint, exacerbated by the nine-second ride to the eighty-eighth floor.

Blinking as the doors soundlessly slid open, she stepped out, pulling a small wheelie suitcase, and caught her breath at the pale-gold carpets embossed with cream swirls, the filigree around the down-lights and the incredibly detailed cornices.

This place was stunning, and she hadn’t even made it into his
apartment
yet.

Pressing the doorbell, she smoothed her skirt, her belly churning with nerves.

It had nothing to do with this place and everything to do with the man about to open the door, a man she couldn’t stop thinking about, a man with the potential to distract her from her number one goal: to make the Niche the best café in Melbourne.

She didn’t do distractions.

She couldn’t afford to.

Her success in the city was the only thing that kept the loneliness demons away, kept her focused enough to not lament the loss of her husband, a possible baby and a family that had betrayed her trust in them.

As the door swung open, she fixed a smile on her face and forced her hands to her sides. If she smoothed her skirt any more it would look as if she’d spent the last hour ironing. And it was bad enough she’d decided to change without him thinking she’d gone overboard.

‘Hey, Cam. Come on in.’

Easy for him to say. How was a girl supposed to walk when her knees started shaking the moment she caught sight of him in sand-coloured chinos, casual white shirt and barefoot, looking laid-back and slightly mussed and sexy all at the same time.

Willing her knees to behave—lock, lift, flex—she walked past him, his fresh-from-the-shower scent not playing fair with her poor wobbly legs.

‘Nice place. Though kind of small, isn’t it?’

He chuckled, took her suitcase, propped it near the door and propelled her into the monstrous lounge area with a gentle hand in her back, an innocuous touch that had no right playing havoc with her body.

‘I like my space.’

‘It’s yours?’

She stopped at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, her breath catching at the incredible view of Melbourne and its surrounds spread out like a fairy-tale city in the dusk.

‘Yeah, I bought it off the plan when they were building this place.’

With a superhuman effort she bit her tongue to stop from blurting what she was thinking: how could he afford a place like this?

Instead, she focused on identifying landmarks, taking in the sweeping vista from the Blue Dandenongs mountain range to Port Phillip Bay, from the beautiful Botanical Gardens laid out like a lush green carpet to the sparkling waters of Albert Park Lake.

And she thought she had great views in her tenth-storey Docklands apartment!

‘You’re curious, aren’t you?’

‘About?’ she returned pseudo-casually.

Gesturing to a Chippendale sofa for her to take a seat, he smiled. ‘About this place.’

Sinking into the deep leather, she crossed her legs, grateful she’d gone with the mid-calf pencil skirt and not her favourite above-the-knee mini which she always slipped into after work.

‘I’m a little intrigued,’ she admitted.

Taking a seat next to her, he rested his arm across the back and leaned towards her.

‘With me or my place?’

Overwhelmed by his nearness, she took a deep breath, his aftershave filtering through her senses, the intoxicating scent of pure Blane encouraging her to bridge the short gap between them and bury her nose in the crook of his neck. Right on the tempting spot where his collar rested against his neck, where his impressive tan dipped away to broad shoulders covered in cotton, the sensitive spot she knew for a fact would drive him wild if she nipped it.

She could lie, pretend there was nothing between them, act as if he didn’t affect her one little bit. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and they’d been through too much to start playing games now.

‘Both,’ she said, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze head on, challenging him to…what?

Say she intrigued him, too? That was a given considering he wanted them to have a second chance.

Tell her she was crazy for contemplating giving him what he wanted? That went without saying, for no matter how many times she evaluated this logically, her emotional side would creep up and give her a big whack over the head, urging her to go for it.

Kiss her senseless? Personally, the last option was her preferred choice, but for now she’d settle for a healthy dose of honesty, starting with how he came to afford a place like this.

Cupping her chin, he brushed a thumb along her jaw, sending shivers of longing through her.

‘Careful. Your new flatmate might go getting ideas if you say he intrigues you.’

Disconcerted by his unwavering stare, she aimed for light-hearted, anything to quell the urge to shove his hand away before she did something crazy like hang on to it for dear life.

‘So, tell me how you got this place. Let me guess. You’ve given up building to be a drug lord.’

‘No.’

‘You’ve discovered you’re the secret love child of Bill Gates?’

His mouth twitched. ‘No.’

‘Well, come on then, spill it.’

With a slow, sexy grin that did wicked things to her heart rate, he said, ‘We didn’t exactly get around to discussing my job the other night or earlier this evening, did we?’

‘That would be because you were too busy playing the burly builder.’

She smiled, wondering if he’d remember how she used to call him that, how she’d teased him mercilessly.

His eyes narrowed, losing none of their sparkle. ‘Playing, huh? Just for the record, we’re all grown up now, in case you haven’t noticed.’

Oh, she’d noticed all right; as her belly dropped in a frightening free fall, her core temperature ratcheted up by about a hundred degrees, and she itched to bridge the gap between them and clamber onto his lap.

See, she knew this cohabiting thing was a bad idea.

She’d barely made it through the front door, and already her imagination was overreacting while her body…well, needless to say, her body needed some attention, something she would definitely not be getting from Blane if she knew what was good for her.

‘Okay, so tell me about this building job of yours,’ she said, opting for a nice, safe answer, something that wouldn’t give him the opportunity to flirt considering she desperately needed a few moments to compose herself and stop thinking about exactly how he’d grown up.

‘Ever heard of BA Constructions?’

She shook her head, the name vaguely familiar, the type of thing she might have seen on billboards or scaffolding around the city. ‘Not sure.’

‘That’s my company.’

He pronounced it with the kind of unaffected casualness she’d come to associate with him from the first minute he’d bowled into her parents’ old-fashioned coffee shop and swept her off her feet, the quiet confidence of a guy who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘The Melbourne Cricket Ground renovation? We were contracted to do it.’

Just like that, the proverbial penny dropped. BA Constructions wasn’t just any company; they’d made headlines for securing the megadeal to renovate Melbourne’s biggest sports stadium ahead of larger, more established construction companies. And there’d been something about making a financial magazine’s rich list, too…

‘BA Constructions, huh? Blane Andrews, CEO extraordinaire by the sounds of things.’

He shrugged, his self-deprecating smile adorable. ‘You know I’m basically a builder at heart. I worked hard, got the right contacts, put in the hard yards and it paid off.’

And how, if this swanky penthouse was any indication.

‘I’m happy for you,’ she said, instinctively reaching out to touch his hand, proud beyond belief he’d achieved so much.

‘Thanks. I did it for us.’

Heat infused his gaze, instant and smouldering, burning her with its intensity, drawing her to him like a moth to a scorching flame: hypnotic, inevitable, despite the struggle to escape.

‘Because I wanted to come back to you with something we can build a future on. A strong foundation for what I hope we can achieve together. You know that, right?’

She nodded reluctantly, wishing she could leap off the sofa and put some much-needed distance between them, but
unable to move, caught up in something bigger and more powerful than the both of them.

Capturing her hand, he brushed his thumb across the back of it, soft, gentle caresses which sent heat spiralling out of control through her.

‘I know I said no pressure, and, believe me, I intend to stick to it, but I need you to tell me exactly what you’re thinking about all of this. About us.’

There is no us
popped into her head, though thankfully she had the foresight not to blurt it out despite her befuddled brain as his thumb continued to do its thing.

She’d already waged an inner battle for the last few hours, dreaming up ways to pull out of staying here while secretly looking forward to it, devising ways to ditch their dinner date while ensuring she paid her debt.

He had her confused, bamboozled and hotter than she’d ever been. And she was tired of pretending this all meant nothing, that he could breeze into her life without affecting her.

Sighing, she turned her hand over, sliding her fingers between his, the intertwining sending a feeling of simple joy through her.

This was some of the stuff she’d missed about being part of a couple: the hand-holding, the shared moments, the in-jokes.

Maybe she could get to know him a little better, get reacquainted, see where it led. What did she have to lose, when she’d lost the most important thing—him—years earlier?

‘You want to know what I think? I think you’re crazy for waltzing back into my life and thinking we can pick up where we left off.’

A slight frown appeared between his brows, and she raised a finger to it, tenderly smoothing it away. ‘But I also think you’re interesting, funny and pretty cute. After all this time, go figure.’

His eyes sparked with delight, and she laughed. ‘I also
think seeing as you’ve been kind enough to let me crash here for a bit, it’s only fair I cut you some slack.’

His answering smile could have lit up the whole of Melbourne. ‘I like the way you think.’

To prove it, he closed the short gap between them and kissed her.

Fireworks exploded in her head. Heat raced through her body. And the shield around her heart thawed and cracked as she recognised on an instinctive level that this kiss meant more than she could have possibly imagined.

She’d fooled herself into thinking she hadn’t missed him all these years. She’d been wrong. So wrong.

This was much more than a kiss, this timeless melding of two souls meant to be together, a kiss filled with hope and new beginnings. Gentle yet forceful, giving yet demanding, he kissed her with a precision that took her breath away.

As he cradled her head, his lips grazing hers with slow, seductive skill, she knew the explosion of mind-numbing need flowing through her had little to do with expertise and everything to do with the potent attraction still simmering between them after all this time.

They’d always been like this together. Lightning-fast, combustible sparks shooting between them: quick, hot, magical.

‘You’re smiling.’ He broke the kiss to pull back and look at her. ‘Either it means you’re really happy or my kissing technique needs a bit of work.’

Reaching up to lay a hand against his cheek, she smiled. ‘Your kissing technique is as good as ever.’

‘Okay, then, glad we got that sorted.’

His confident grin told her he knew exactly how talented he was in the kissing department and had probably been fishing for compliments.

‘You shaved.’ She ran her fingertips over his jaw, skim
ming the smooth skin, irrationally missing the stubble she loved so much.

‘You know it’s a lost cause. I’ll have half a beard again by the end of the night.’

‘I like it,’ she murmured, replacing her fingertips with her lips, grazing his cheek in the lightest, barest of kisses, inhaling deeply as she did so, her memory dancing with joy in recognition of his fresh, addictive scent.

‘You still have the power to drive me crazy.’

He turned his head a fraction to slant his mouth across hers in a slow, soul-drugging kiss that had her clinging to his shirt as if she was floundering out of her depth in a sea of desire.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

She broke the kiss with reluctance, her body telling her to go for it, her head telling her to take things slowly before they got in too deep too quickly.

‘How about we take it each day at a time?’

‘Each day, huh?’

Wriggling back on the sofa to put a little distance between them—she couldn’t think straight with his overpowering masculine presence in her personal space—she decided to give it to him straight.