The Billionaire Baby Bombshell (4 page)

If he couldn’t get a grip, then his plans were history. Which left his family with nothing but a legacy of scandal and lies, terrible reminders of a past that he’d vowed would be buried with his tyrant father.

He glared out the large glass doors, out onto the wild beauty of the Australian Outback. To his far left, the distinctive ochre of Ayers Rock loomed, a sharp contrast to the overt lushness of Diamond Bay.

He loved the peace and isolation of this place. It was the only one of William’s creations that didn’t scream his
autocratic presence in every brick and line, the only place untainted by his violence.

Alex absently rubbed a palm across his shoulder, recalling old wounds. He’d regularly endured the man’s fists and his “fight for what you want—no one else will” dictum, a dictum that had surprisingly stuck. The only thing of value he’d gotten from that son of a bitch.

It was time to get his head straight and see this thing through.

The memory of soft eyes and a sinful laugh washed over him, making him groan. That thought carried him out the door, down the heavily carpeted gold-and-cream hallway to the end of the corridor where he’d deliberately placed Yelena.

He knocked and after a muffled “Hang on!” Yelena opened the door with a rushed smile. Her expression faded when she saw him standing there.

She’d removed her business suit. Instead, she was dressed in jeans and a stark white T-shirt, the dark denim a perfect frame for her long legs, the soft cotton shirt clinging demurely to her curves and prodding his imagination into overdrive. Extreme womanly curves.

He offered a thousand colorful curses to his growing libido before she silently stepped aside to let him enter.

“Did Jasmine come and see you?” he asked by way of greeting before striding into the room.

Yelena’s mind blanked as an unexpected tingle flushed her skin, his warm body and familiar scent brushing fleetingly past.

“The babysitter,” he reminded her.

She gave herself a mental shake. “Yes, she’s in the bedroom with Bella. Thank you for arranging that.”

He shrugged then paused in the middle of the room, surveying it. “The resort provides an exceptional nanny service. Is the room to your liking?”

“Perfect—if a bit large.”

“All our suites come with a living area, two bedrooms, separate bathroom. And of course, a view.”

He picked up a remote control from the coffee table and thumbed a button.

Slowly, the curtains began to whir apart.

“Your curtains are electronic?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Her surprise amused him: the small grin he gave had her cool resolve thawing an inch. “Can’t have our guests
manually
opening their curtains.”

She shook her head, reluctantly matching his smile. “Of course not. They might—oh.”

It was a fantasy view. Dead ahead, a huge cliff face loomed, a waterfall glinting in the sun as it crashed over the edge into a massive lagoon. A veritable forest of native flora gathered at the base, creating a protective canopy that shaded a paved walkway. Yelena could barely pick out the private cabanas Diamond Bay provided for all its pool goers.

It was like something from a big-budget movie set where the characters stumbled upon a fertile, ancient land miles below the earth’s surface. Yet Yelena knew it was the real thing. Diamond Bay—the only man-made body of water in the state.

And surrounding it all, the shiny curves of the resort gently undulated, forming a completely decadent—and totally private—haven.

“That’s…”

“Amazing?”

Yelena took one step towards the view, then another. “Breathtaking.”

He crossed his arms. “William Rush did have a taste for the spectacular.”

She slowly swung her gaze to him, studying his profile as he stared out at the view.

Something was off. There was tension, yes. She’d expected
that—even disgust, considering what she’d dumped on him in the plane. But there was something more… She grazed her eyes over his face. The almost imperceptible frown creasing his brow. The strong, fixed jaw. The aquiline slope of his nose that led down to a mouth that she remembered was way too warm, way too tempting.

He shifted, those azure eyes snaring her. “I had a feeling you’d like it,” he murmured, almost to himself.

A spark of something deep within flared her senses for one second, but in the next he glanced away and she wondered if she’d just imagined it.

It left her breathless. And irritated.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be working,” he said shortly, completely unaware of his effect on her heart rate.

She nodded, disappeared into the bedroom then returned with her briefcase and a thick notepad.

“Your sister’s fourteen, correct?” Yelena began as they made their way from the suite and down the hushed hall.

“Fifteen in March.” His eyes suddenly relaxed. “You’ve never met her, have you?”

“Once. Gabriela invited her to a thing at the embassy last year.”

“Ah, that’s right…the Christmas in July Ball.” They turned left and stopped at the elevator bay. “She was stoked. Couldn’t stop flashing that ‘special guest’ invitation under everyone’s nose.” His mouth quirked as he punched the button.

“Your mother couldn’t come that night—she was sick, right?”

“Yeah.” His eyelids suddenly came down as he crossed his arms, angling his body towards the elevators.

Odd.
Yelena frowned but before she could add anything more, Alex spoke, his gaze still on the closed elevator doors.

“That was the night you kissed me for the first time. In the kitchen, remember?”

She snapped her eyes up, cheeks warm. “
You
kissed
me.
”

His mouth slanted. “And you told me to take a hike afterwards.”

“You were Gabriela’s boyfriend.”

“Only one of many.”

“Are you accusing my sister of—”

“Oh, come off it, Yelena.” She just caught his eye roll before the doors pinged open. “You and I both know Gabriela’s a good-time girl in every sense of the word. I served as her designated arm decoration when she was in town but I certainly wasn’t her only love interest.”

I can’t talk about this.
Yelena tightened her grip on her bag, steadfastly focusing on the closing elevator doors as the memories flushed over her skin, making her tingle.

“Tell me more about Chelsea.”

He paused, letting her know he knew she was changing the subject. Finally, he said, “She’s an amazing kid—a promising tennis player, too. Brash and tough on the outside but inside…”

“A typical teenager—vulnerable and unsure.”

“Yeah.” He looked at Yelena then, his small smile startling her. “What would you know about that?”

“Everything.” Alex watched her mouth twitch as they both left the elevator and headed across the marble lobby. “I was the new kid at school, remember? And a foreigner.”

“I remember your first day.” How could he forget? She’d been every male senior’s wet dream—a stunning, dark-haired beauty driving up to Radford College in a sleek black BMW, hair blowing, fashionably impassive behind flashy Dior sunglasses.

“I was nervous as hell,” she said, snapping him from his fantasy as they kept walking past the reception area.

“Couldn’t tell. You glided through that car park like you owned the place.”

Yelena gave a short laugh as he held open a set of glass doors for her. “‘Glided’? Hardly.”

“Yeah. Gabriela bounces through life. You glide like a perfectly groomed ship on smooth water.” Palm down, he cut his hand through the air, a visual to back up his statement.

“Is that how you see me—perfect? Untouchable?”

He paused, his hand on the door that proclaimed, simply, Alexander Rush. She watched his sensual mouth curve, his piercing blue eyes creasing in sudden humor.

“Never untouchable, Yelena.”

Her breath caught as she remained trapped in the steady knowledge of his gaze.
This
was the Alex she knew—the teasing charmer who threw out little double entendres just to see her fluster. Not the bitter man flinging accusations in her office. And certainly not the Alex of the dark moments, the hidden secrets and brooding silences she’d thought Gabriela had exaggerated for dramatic effect.

“Coffee?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want coffee?” His mouth tweaked into a delicious grin. “We can have it out by the pool.”

Guiltily she nodded. She’d known her sister and Alex were a mismatch the instant Gabriela had told her…when? May. Over a year ago. A lifetime. Yet she’d loved him in her own way. Didn’t he deserve to know what had happened?

As she stood in the still expanse of Alex’s office, pretending to take in her surroundings while he made a phone call, she wrestled with the promise her parents had wrenched from her. Finally he hung up.

“My mother and Chelsea will meet us at Ruby’s—one of our many coffee bars—at four.”

“Alex…”

“Yes?” He placed his hands on his hips, head tilted in familiar awareness.

Gabriela’s dead.
It was right on the tip of her tongue, sitting
there all ready to come out, but with one gulp she swallowed it. She’d been clear with Alex from the start—she was here for business. Disturbed at how easy her control had slipped in less than a day, she quickly grabbed for the reins.

“Do your mother and sister know why I’m here?” she asked.

Slowly he leaned against his desk, bracing his palms on the rich, dark wood.

“No. And I don’t want them to, at least not yet. My mother will think it’s unnecessary…that British stiff-upper-lip reserve thing. She’d say I was wasting my money and your time, that everything would eventually blow over—” He stopped midsentence, his jaw tightening. Then he cleared his throat, crossed his arms and said, “They’ve been here two weeks and only just started to relax—I want to keep it that way.”

His pointed look stung. “I know how to do my job.”

“Good.” He nodded to the huge aerial shot of Diamond Bay on the wall opposite. “People pay for a media-free zone here. No papers, TV, phone, Internet—unless by request. I’ve given you a conference room next door with everything you need. Only guests are allowed into the resort, and only then by private plane, so no reporters. You’ll have complete privacy to work.”

Complete privacy. In a stunning resort that radiated Alex’s presence and family power from every floor, every wall. Yet despite the tension rumbling between them like an ominous earthquake warning, she’d felt a connection to this place from the moment she’d set foot on the rich red soil. As if the sole purpose of her stay was to help her relax.

“Do you get to stay here often?”

He paused. “Not as much as I’d like. I travel between Sydney, Canberra, L.A. and London, mostly.”

Yelena tipped her head. “London? So Sprint Travel is thinking of franchising to the U.K.? Carlos…”

Yelena let her words peter out at Alex’s tight face. “Carlos what?”

“He…he just mentioned it in passing.”

“I see,” he said smoothly, before straightening to his full six-foot-three height. “But to answer—no. Rush Airlines has investments in the U.K. and the States. Do you want to see your work space?”

He quickly left the office and walked down the hall, leaving Yelena no choice but to follow.

“W
elcome to Diamond Falls, Yelena.” Pamela Rush’s handshake might have been hesitant but her smile was sincerely warm. A pair of flowing beige pants and a floral shirt tied low around her middle emphasized a trim figure, with a large broad-brimmed sun hat completing the ensemble.

“My gardening clothes,” Pam said with a smile, then swept off her hat and gave her short, choppy hair a ruffle. “I have a greenhouse extended onto my suite. We try to be as self-sufficient as we can.”

Yelena noticed the loving smile Pam gave Alex as he sat down. Then she glanced over at the lanky girl—Alex’s sister—who was lounging unceremoniously in the comfy sofa chair opposite.

“I already ordered coffee for us—I hope you don’t mind.” A tinge of worry lit Pam’s eyes. “Unless you drink tea, Yelena…?”

Yelena smiled reassuringly. “Couldn’t function without my coffee.”

“You’re Gabriela’s sister, right?” Chelsea asked as she swung her legs around, her feet landing with a small thunk on the slate floor. The teenager was all long limbs and coltish grace in cutoff denim shorts and black T-shirt declaring Vampire Princess in blood red. Familiar white iPod headphones dangled from her neck, her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, revealing a makeup-free face. She looked all of ten years old.

“I am,” Yelena said. “You and I met last year.”

“At the Christmas in July Ball.” Chelsea grinned and nodded. “You were dressed in black Colette Dinnigan—from her
next
season winter collection.”

Yelena smiled. “I have friends in high places. And you have a good memory. Are you interested in fashion?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Sort of.”

“One of her many interests,” Pamela Rush said with a gentle smile at her daughter. Chelsea blinked and shrugged, trying to carry off teenage blasé but losing. The intelligence in her blue eyes, so like Alex’s, indicated much more depth than Yelena suspected people knew. “Chelsea’s going to be the next Martina,” Pam added proudly.

“Mum!” Chelsea rolled her eyes as she wrapped her headphones around the iPod. “Don’t—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Rush. Drinks?”

The waiter placed three coffees and a thick chocolate shake before them with a flourish. Yelena caught Chelsea’s flushed gaze as it flitted up to the cute waiter then back to the tabletop.

Smothering a smile, she turned her attention to Alex’s mother.

She’d seen photos of Pamela Rush in the gossip magazines and society pages. The former airline hostess had aged well, with hardly a wrinkle on her striking face, no visible grey hairs in her rich, brown pixie cut.

“Didn’t you have long hair at one point?” Yelena asked curiously.

If she hadn’t been studying the woman so closely, she would’ve missed the slight waver on Pam’s lips just before they stretched into a smile.

“Sometimes you just need a change.”

Yelena nodded, glancing away to cover up her embarrassment. Of course. The woman had lost a husband, her son had been accused of murder. Some people ran away, some drank. Some simply went to pieces. Pamela Rush cut her hair.

“So what brings you to Diamond Bay, Yelena?” Pam asked.

Yelena gave Alex a fleeting glance. He raised one eyebrow, inviting her to continue.

“Distraction-free work—”

“And a little relaxation, too.” Alex added evenly, his smile sending a quiver of warmth into her limbs.

“Well, this is the place for it,” Pam said with a nod.

As Pam poured milk into her coffee, Yelena made a few observations.
Genuine smile. Polite. Poised
. Her fingers twitched, eager to make notes, but knew she’d have to wait until later. Instead she picked up a packet of sugar, gave it a flick then ripped open the top and dumped the contents into her black coffee.

She lowered her eyes to furtively study Alex. He appeared calm, the muscles in his face relaxed, his brow smooth. She even caught a small twitch of approval lingering at the corner of his mouth.

A frisson of pleasure jetted through her body, startling her.
This isn’t your first campaign. You can’t let a client’s stamp of approval go to your head.

“Is Gabriela overseas?” Chelsea said suddenly, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

Thrown, Yelena slowly took her cup and raised it to her lips before focusing her attention on the teenager. “Um…yes.”

“For the fashion season? It starts in September, right, with New York, then London, Milan and Paris?”

It was only after Yelena had taken a sip of scalding coffee and returned the cup to the saucer that she realized her other hand had been halfway up to her necklace. Instinctively her eyes met Alex’s. At his frown, she lowered her hand then clasped them together on the table.

“How do you know?” She gave Chelsea a small, curious smile. “Gabriela wasn’t—” she paused to swallow, then finished faintly “—she hasn’t modeled for years.”

“I know—she’s a booker for Cat Walker Models in Sydney, right? I’ve been following their blog. They said they were going to send staff to cover the shows and I just figured she’d be the obvious choice.”

The dull pain squeezed her heart but she managed to return Chelsea’s smile. “I think you’re more than ‘sort of’ interested in fashion.”

“Yeah,” she muttered and glanced away with a barely hidden grimace. When she returned her gaze to Yelena’s, it was…different. Hard. As if she’d aged ten years in the space of two seconds. “But Dad reckoned it was a waste of time.”

Then she reached for her shake and began to vigorously stir it with the straw.

What on earth was that?
Yelena chanced another look at Alex while everyone drank but failed to glean anything from his controlled blue stare.

Too controlled.
Yelena dropped her eyes as her thoughts began to snowball. What was going on here? She cast her mind back to this morning, rehashing their conversations. Yet she couldn’t pin down anything tangible, any dead giveaway that would assuage her concerns. It was more a gut feeling, something instinctive that told her Alex wasn’t telling her everything. After months—years—of covert flirting and
casual chat during endless social functions they’d been thrown into, she could sense it. She could sense it every time the topic of conversation turned to his family. And she could sense it after three clandestine moments when they’d shared fevered kisses and whispers of hot passion.

She knew it now.

In one of Gabriela’s rare moments of insight, her sister had likened Alex Rush to a dormant volcano—beautiful and calm on the outside, but inside a raging mass of hot, bubbling conflict.

Take care of him, Yelena. He’s one of the good guys.

Yelena glared at her cup. Damn it. She’d been trying to erase Gabriela’s gentle command from her memory, just as she’d been forcing herself not to think about Alex and all the complexities that made him tick. But she was involved again—and it didn’t only include him now.

With sudden inspiration, Yelena placed her spoon on her saucer and leaned forward. “I tell you what, Chelsea. I know a few people in Sydney—if you’re interested, I can get us front-row tickets to David Jones’s fashion show next month.”

Chelsea’s rounded eyes snapped up to hers. “Really?”

When she glanced over at Pam, Yelena quickly added, “Of course, your mum would have to approve.”

“Mum? Please? Please, please, pleeeeeease?”

But it was Alex who butted in with, “What about your training? And school?”

The spark of defiance in the teenager’s eyes was hard to miss. “What about it?”

Pam began awkwardly, “I thought you were focusing on the Perth trials next year?”

Chelsea glared at the tabletop, muttering something under her breath.

“What?” Alex said with a frown.

“I said, ‘I doubt I’d get in, anyway.’”

“So you want to just drop it? Is—” Alex paused then
leaned forward in his chair, irritation evident “—is that what you want? After you’ve spent so much time and effort on training?”

Chelsea’s expression turned sullen. “Why don’t you start yelling about how you’ve spent thousands on my tennis career? Then you’d
really
sound like Dad.”

If Chelsea had picked up her soda spoon and stabbed him with it, Alex couldn’t have looked more hurt.

“Sweetheart…” Pam said slowly before Chelsea cut her off with a venomous look.

Wow. Anger like that didn’t come from just a little family disagreement. Fascinated yet discomfited, Yelena watched the scenario play out before her, unable to look away.

“If you want something that badly—” Pam began.

Chelsea leaped to her feet, face flushed. “Don’t you
dare
quote Dad to me, not now, not after—”

“Chelsea!” Alex said roughly.

She scowled at him. “And you shouldn’t be defending him! This whole thing sucks! Everything sucks!”

And with that, she stormed across the café and out the glass doors.

Alex scraped his chair back but Pam put a hand on his arm, shaking her head. He sat, his face turbulent, as an awkward silence fell.

Yelena looked over to Pam, who was making short work of the napkin in her lap, eyes staring at her half-empty coffee. And Alex, well, that gaze would end up burning a hole in the table pretty soon.

“You know what?” Yelena said firmly, turning to Pam. “I’d love to see your greenhouse if you have the time.”

The older woman glanced up, blinking rapidly. “Now?”

“Sure.” She tempered her request with a smile. “Work can wait. And I love plants even though I have a black thumb.”

“Black thumb?”

“They always end up withering away, despite my best efforts.”

Pam’s shaky smile told Yelena she was grateful for the attention shift, yet Alex’s expression remained closed.

Yelena stood and casually linked her arm through the older woman’s. But then, suddenly, she paused with a confused blink. Had Pamela Rush
flinched?
Her eyes sought Pam’s but their crystal-blue depths reflected nothing but gentle politeness.

She shook herself, dismissing the moment.

“I’ll see you for dinner, darling?” Pam said, glancing back to Alex.

Yelena didn’t want to look at him but she managed to force her gaze to where he still sat, silent and thoughtful.

When he looked first at his mother, then her, she could see the wheels of his mind working overtime. With one raised eyebrow, she met his eyes steadily.

He glanced back to Pam. “I’ll probably be working. I’ll let you know.” Slowly he added, “What about Chelsea?”

Pam shook her head. “She’s been angry for the last two weeks. I’ve been giving her some space, so please don’t chase her down. She needs to—” she paused, as if rethinking the words “—figure out who she is and what she wants. You know what it’s like at that age.”

“Yeah.”

Yelena couldn’t fail to notice Alex’s parting scowl, dark with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It lingered in her mind long after Pam led her from the café, across the foyer and towards the private suites.

Alex was neck-deep in numbers with only half his mind on the task when Yelena breezed into his office an hour later. “You have to tell your mother.”

He slowly placed his Montblanc pen on the sheaf of
notes and leaned back. The leather chair gently groaned in protest.

“What have you said to her?”

“Nothing.” She put her hands on her hips, obviously unaware how that emphasized the generous flare of her curves. “But I’ve never worked on a campaign that didn’t have the full support of the client.”

“
I’m
your client.”

She shifted her weight, one long leg thrust forward aggressively, tilting those hips in one slow, suggestive motion. Alex’s breath caught in sharp appreciation.

“Tell me, if it weren’t for Pam and Chelsea, would you have hired me?” Yelena said.

If it weren’t for Carlos they both wouldn’t be here.
“No,” he said curtly, arousal doused as resentment began to bubble up inside. He swiftly stood. “What have you two been talking about?”

“Well, naturally she asked what I did for a living so pretty soon she’ll put two and two together.” She paused, shaking her head. Alex watched a small strand of hair escape her ponytail and settle on her shoulder. With an impatient sweep, she shoved it back.

“I also get the feeling she thinks you and I are—” she paused, her hand fluttering up to her necklace “—conducting some kind of secret liaison.”

“I see.”

When he moved out from behind his desk, Alex noticed the way she put weight onto her back foot, unsure and unsteady. As if poised for a quick exit.

Yelena never backed down from an argument. Which meant something else had unnerved her, something that went beyond mere discomfort at his mother’s assumptions. Was he finally getting to her? Just as satisfaction curled his mouth into a grin, a dark alternate thought thinned it.

“Being romantically linked with a suspected murderer embarrasses you.”

Yelena eyes widened at the hint of disgust peppering his flat statement. “No! How could you possibly think that?”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You have to stop lying to her.”

His eyes narrowed. “I am not lying.”

She snorted, unperturbed by his mounting irritation. “Lying by omission is still lying. I get enough of that from my bro—”

Appalled, she snapped her mouth shut…not quick enough.

“What’s Carlos done?” He growled.

What on earth was she thinking? Their eyes deadlocked, both unwilling to back down until Yelena finally conceded.

“Nothing. He’s said absolutely nothing to me for months. This whole silent treatment you’re giving him isn’t going to solve the problem, you know.”

“What makes you think there’s a problem?”

“Do not treat me like an idiot, Alex. There’s a problem.”

Instantly, the temperature dropped. “That’s none of your business.”

“Rubbish. Not only will this impact on Sprint Travel and this campaign, but he’s my brother—your business partner.”

He shot her a look. “What happened to your ‘no personal questions’ rule?” He slowly crossed his arms. “Can’t have it both ways. Or—” he let the words trail off, one eyebrow raised “—are you deliberately trying to pick a fight?”