The Billionaire’s Baby (9 page)

The corners of her mouth curved into a deliciously naughty smile. ‘Or you could hold a towel up for me, but only if you promise not to peek.’

As all the blood from his brain rushed south, he tugged on her hand till she stood flush against him, murmuring in her ear, ‘No deal. And it’s no use asking me to turn around because I’ve got eyes in the back of my head.’

‘It can’t be too hard, right?’

She wriggled within the circle of his arm around her waist, the wetsuit soaking water through his T-shirt, the damp a welcome relief for his skin burning up from the inside out.

‘I think you know exactly how hard it is.’

He could have shown her if he shifted his pelvis a fraction to the left, but she was driving him beyond the limits any red-blooded male in his right mind could tolerate, so he settled for a quick, blistering kiss, chuckling when she gasped after
he released her, and twirled her towards the car, giving her a gentle pat on her very cute butt for good measure.

‘I’ll give you two minutes to change. You take any longer, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

She flung a saucy look over her shoulder. ‘Is that a threat or a promise?’

‘Change!’ He pointed to the car before his good intentions to romance her in the style she deserved went up in flames along with his libido.

‘I’ll be over that sand dune.’ He held up two fingers. ‘Two minutes, that’s it.’

With a fake pout, she puffed out an exaggerated sigh before reaching for the zip and slowly, agonisingly, drawing it downwards inch by excruciating inch.

He stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from her fingertips, the nails short, practical and unadorned, wrapped around that tiny piece of black metal, sliding downwards in a deliberate, unhurried tease.

She reached the tantalising dip between her breasts, the hint of cleavage making him grit his teeth to stop himself from groaning.

‘Remember that time we went skinny-dipping after the Labour Day picnic?’

Remember? How could he forget? Instant memories swamped him: sharing hot nachos down by the creek, licking the spicy salsa off each other’s fingers, flickering moonlight playing over her exquisite features, him daring her to join him in the frigid water, buck naked…

‘Cam…’ He took a step towards her, barely managing to stop when she waggled a finger at him and pointed over his shoulder.

‘I think there’s a sand dune over there with your name written all over it.’

With a frustrated growl, he turned away from her teasing
grin and marched over the hot sand, putting as much distance between the gorgeous temptress and himself as possible.

He might be a romantic but he wasn’t a saint, and if that zip had gone any further, he couldn’t have been held accountable for his actions.

Cam might like to tease him, to push things along but he had all the time in the world.

Like for ever.

Camryn wondered if she’d made a mistake.

When Blane drove through the tiny coastal town of Barwon Heads on their way back for lunch with its single main street dotted with a bakery, pub, grocer and a few cafés for the holidaymakers who probably frequented the quiet town in the summer, she’d had the distinct feeling he was trying to recapture their past.

The streets had been almost deserted, the foreshore home to a few seagulls too lazy to raise a squawk, and as the car had stopped at the lone roundabout to let a helmetless kid on a bike through, it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to interrogate him on the spot.

Barwon Heads was reminiscent of Rainbow Creek, from the few old guys loitering around the rusty anchor in the town’s sole park, making desultory small talk over cigarettes, to the curious glances cast their way when Blane stopped for petrol.

And considering they’d first met in Rainbow Creek, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was trying to take a trip down memory lane.

Not a bad thing in itself when she’d enjoyed every moment she’d spent in her errant husband’s company so far, and this weekend would prove no exception. The kicker lay in the fact her intentions to tread softly had flown out the window since
the first time they’d kissed in his penthouse, and she hadn’t been able to recover her equilibrium since.

It was getting harder and harder to hold him off, to pretend she was just getting reacquainted with a friend and not falling deeper with every passing day.

‘Chardonnay or Shiraz?’

Smiling, she turned away from the wooden balcony and the panoramic view of the tiny town that lay out before them. ‘Chardonnay would be lovely.’

‘Coming right up.’

He tipped a finger to his head in a salute before padding back into the kitchen, his bare feet making a soft padding sound against the old wooden boards.

Sighing, she leaned against the balcony, propped on her elbows, wondering if there was such a thing as happily ever after.

Was she crazy thinking about giving their marriage a second chance after what she’d been through first time around? Considering what she’d have to tell him if she was mad enough to give in to him?

What she did know was the heady attraction zinging between them since the first moment they’d met hadn’t waned. If anything it had intensified, the underlying heat needing little to burst into a raging conflagration of yearning and passion.

Not that he was pushing her, oh, no, far from it. Blane was categorically the nicest guy she’d ever met. Not to mention handsome in a rough-around-the-edges way she adored, funny, smart, thoughtful…throw in courteous, respectful, add some newly acquired chef skills to the list, and she knew she was in serious trouble.

Saying she had no interest in resurrecting their marriage was a crock, and she knew it.

To make matters worse, she’d agreed to spend the night. Not a big deal in itself, considering they’d been living together
for the last month but, somehow, being housemates where they were both so busy with their respective businesses they rarely saw each other was completely different to this.

A weekend away, he’d said after she’d laughed off his fumigating excuse, time out from her busy schedule to kick back with no strings attached, and she’d foolishly agreed.

It had all seemed so simple saying yes over an espresso at the end of a long, tiring day when her body ached, her mind fogged and her soul exhausted, his offer just the thing for a workaholic who hadn’t had a day off in over a year.

However, now they were here at his mate’s holiday house after an incredibly fun afternoon at the beach, reality hit.

They’d be in each other’s company twenty-four/seven, without the excuse of work or meetings or late-night trading to hide behind. Not that she’d been avoiding him exactly; business at the Niche had been off the scale. She’d had regular meetings with the new project manager at her apartment to ensure everything ran smoothly and on time, and some of her staff had come down with a flu bug, and she’d had to do some serious juggling.

However, it had been late at night, when she’d all but fallen into bed, that she’d been all too aware of him sleeping across the hall from her, so close…so tantalisingly close…

Now here she was, sharing meals with him, sharing memories, those precious snapshots imprinted on her brain to be flicked through at will, and the self-imposed barriers she’d erected between them would come crashing down. Then what?

She didn’t stand a chance of holding him off.

‘Right, here you go, one chilled Chardonnay and a seafood platter for two.’

‘Thanks.’

She took the ice-cold glass from him and gulped the wine, the refreshing bite of the Hunter Valley grapes loosening her
throat which had constricted at the thought of taking a risk of this magnitude.

With impeccable manners as always, he drew out a chair for her. ‘You better take it easy with that stuff. If my memory serves correct, you had two sips of champers on our honeymoon night and it went straight to your head.’

‘I didn’t hear you complaining.’

They locked gazes, hot, smouldering, instantly transported back to a time when they’d been ecstatically happy and totally free of responsibility, a time when it had just been the two of them so wrapped up in each other they’d been ready to tackle the world head on.

But that time had passed, the opportunity for the Blane and Cam team lost.

Or was it?

He cleared his throat and took the seat opposite. ‘You got that right. Those were special times, huh?’

‘The best.’

The words popped out before she could think, and she grabbed her fork and speared a piece of grilled calamari, concentrating on filling her plate with the deliciously aromatic garlic prawns, salmon fillet and scallops he’d barbecued to perfection, anything to avoid blurting out any more home truths.

‘Do you miss them as much as I do?’

She couldn’t lie to him, couldn’t hold him back for ever, and she nodded, forking a ring of butter-soft calamari into her mouth, savouring the fresh sea taste with a burst of lemon, using the scrumptious food as an excuse not to speak and betray the lump of emotion lodged in her throat.

‘We could have those times again, you know.’ He reached across and captured her hand, his long, warm fingers curling around hers like the most natural, comforting thing in the world. ‘I think you want it as much as I do.’

This was why she shouldn’t have come this weekend. A bit of light-hearted flirting she could handle, it was this revealing-your-soul thing she sucked at. And boy, would he get the shock of a lifetime when she bared her soul.

Swallowing, she washed the yummy seafood down with a sip of wine, much slower this time. ‘Honestly? I don’t know what I want.’

He withdrew his hand, and she raised her eyes, disheartened by the hint of wariness in his. ‘That’s okay. I didn’t mean to get all heavy on you. This weekend’s meant to be about relaxation, remember?’

The tension between them dissolved as he helped himself to seafood, but she could tell she’d hurt him. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had to be honest, and while they were growing closer every day, she still couldn’t throw all her reservations away in one go.

‘Relaxation. Right, got it,’ she said, picking up her fork and twirling it between her fingers, emotions tumbling through her in a confusing torrent: fear and hope waging a fierce battle as she struggled to come to a decision. Married or not, for there would be no middle ground. She couldn’t go on being friends with her husband for ever, and she didn’t expect him to sit around and wait indefinitely.

She had to make a choice, and soon, for both their sakes.

Reaching for his wine glass, he raised it in her direction. ‘I propose a toast. To focusing on this weekend and making it a new and exciting time to remember.’

She’d drink to that, and she picked up her glass and clinked it against his. ‘To new and exciting times ahead.’

But excitement wore off. The gloss of getting reacquainted would soon fade and pale in the face of making tough decisions, the type of life-changing decisions affecting both of them once she told him the truth.

She would have to tell him about her infertility if they were to take a second chance on their marriage; there would be no holding back despite the sick, hollow ache deep in her soul every time she thought about what she’d been through and how it affected her future…
their
future.

Excitement was fine for now. It was renewing her commitment to her husband that was confusing the heck out of her.

C
AMRYN
sank onto the threadbare rug, tucked her feet under her, and cradled a mug of hot chocolate, staring out into the inky darkness, hearing the waves crashing on the shore but unable to see anything beyond the few low-wattage street lights dotting the foreshore.

This place might be a ramshackle cottage, with its loopy wood letting in the blustery wind through tiny cracks, and its mismatched furniture and broken-spring sofa, but it held a certain appeal. Namely the man walking towards her with a plate piled high with small, symmetrical squares of caramel slice, her favourite.

‘You certainly know how to spoil a gal.’

She selected a large piece, biting into the gooey caramel and coconut biscuit base and sighing. ‘Mmm…good.’

She flicked her tongue out to catch a stray crumb, unwilling to let the tiniest morsel escape her lips, when her gaze collided with his, the heat she glimpsed enough to send a thrill of excitement through her.

Considering the hash she’d made over dinner, bringing up her confusion about their relationship, she was surprised Blane felt anything other than compassion for her.

But there was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, the
smouldering glow of desire she’d seen many times before and had shrugged off with a witty quip or light flirtation.

However, this time was different.

This time they were spending quality time together, more than a snatched coffee as they ran out of his penthouse in the morning or a brief greeting as they passed in the hallway heading to their respective bedrooms at night.

Here, there was no hiding behind her busy schedule, and, while he’d made it clear he didn’t expect anything from this weekend beyond a bit of R&R, she knew all it would take to send them both up in flames was a little oxygen to the sparks already flying between them.

‘More?’

He held out the plate towards her, his steamy gaze stoking the fire between them, and she knew he wasn’t just talking about the caramel slice. Playing the nice guy, he was giving her the choice of how far she wanted to take this getting reacquainted business.

But she didn’t have a choice, not really.

The second she’d lowered her defences and let this incredible man back into her life was the exact moment any choice had flown out the window, for there was nothing surer than once the two of them started spending time together again they’d end up in each other’s arms. It had been a highlight of their brief relationship in Rainbow Creek, and it was still a feature now, with the constant underlying attraction between them.

Blane had been her first lover, her only lover, and it had been six long years since she’d known his exquisite touch.

The decision was a simple one as she laid a hand on his forearm, deliberately pushing the plate away as she leaned forward and breathed, ‘Yes, please.’

In what seemed like an eternity, but in reality couldn’t
have been more than a few seconds, they shoved mugs and slice out of the way, made a frantic grab at one another and tumbled onto the rug in a flurry of tangled limbs and laughter.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

She silenced him with a kiss, pouring all her heart and soul into it, the type of kiss which expressed more than words ever could, the type of kiss welcoming him back into her life with a resounding yes!

Lips melded, fused, clung. He tasted of chocolate and coffee, sweet, strong, addictive, and she savoured the heady rush, bunching the soft cotton of his T-shirt beneath her hands, clutching at him, needing to anchor herself in a world gone deliciously, intoxicatingly mad.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he murmured, his lips nibbling the sensitive skin behind her earlobe while his hands spanned her waist, his calloused fingertips gently rasping against her skin and sending pure, blinding desire exploding through her.

‘Just take all of me.’

She could sense rather than see his smile as his lips trailed down her neck, nuzzling the soft hollow above her collarbone.

‘I like the fact my wife knows what she wants.’

His hands slid slowly upwards, grazing the underside of her breasts, and she gasped as his head suddenly dipped and he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the exposed skin of her cleavage.

‘Oh, I know what I want all right,’ she whispered, leaning back on her hands, thrusting her breasts upwards, offering herself to him, craving more of the same all over her hypersensitised body.

He stilled, his hands cupping her breasts while he raised his head to look at her.

‘Tell me.’ His eyes, pewter with passion, never left hers, the heat arcing between them sending her body into meltdown. ‘Tell me exactly what you want.’

Placing her palms against his rock-hard chest, she slid her hands upwards, savouring every muscular contour, relishing his matured body, her breathing coming in soft, short pants as he mimicked her action, before resting on his shoulders and giving him a gentle tug forwards.

There’d be no turning back from this.

She didn’t care.

This felt right,
was
right.

‘Cam?’

‘I want you,’ she murmured, a second before their lips touched and obliterated everything but this moment, this night, with this amazing man.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

Camryn raised an eyebrow, leaving him in little doubt she’d already loved the one he’d had for her last night. ‘Another one? My, my, when you set out to impress a girl you really go all out.’

Blane laughed, the rich, mellow timbre of his chuckles raising the hair on the nape of her neck. Or maybe that had more to do with the smouldering look he gave her, the look that said he remembered exactly the mutual surprises they’d rediscovered last night, over and over.

‘You’re going to love this one, too.’

He ran a finger across the back of her hand as it lay on the table, the softest of caresses but enough to send heat flowing through her body. He’d touched her exactly like that all over her body last night, slow, leisurely caresses designed to tease and excite and titillate.

However, it was the way he’d emotionally touched her that had her walking around all morning with a dreamy smile on her face.

They’d made love last night, their actions far surpassing
the physical act, renewing a soul-deep bond that could only exist between two people destined to be together. With every whispered endearment, with every soft embrace, he’d reawakened her love for him till she’d had no option but to recognise the truth.

She loved him. Had never stopped loving him despite steeling her heart and moving on with her life. And that truth would set her free from the mistrust and the reservations she still had. Time to move forward. Time to give them a chance, for real.

‘Have you finished your sundae? We can hit the road if you have. Check out this surprise.’

She nodded, pushing away her half-eaten banana split with extra choc fudge.

Entering this small café had been like stepping back in time. Her parents’ coffee shop could have been its twin. From the faded Vegemite posters on the wood-panelled walls to the blue-and-white gingham curtains, the frilly-edged threadbare cream voile tablecloths to the limited selection of hot drinks, it resembled her folks’ place so much it sent a pang of nostalgia through her.

She’d even ordered her favourite childhood dessert in a pique of nostalgia, though it hadn’t tasted half as good as it had back then, only serving to ram home how much she’d changed.

‘I’m ready.’

She pushed away from the table and grabbed her bag, suddenly eager to escape the confines of the café. Having a sundae for old time’s sake reeked of sentiment, and she didn’t have time for it, not where her parents were concerned.

She’d loved them, trusted them, and they’d betrayed her. She’d wanted to believe it had all been some nasty mistake, but her mum had blurted the truth in anger and it couldn’t be taken back.

She’d put all her faith in them as a good kid should. She
wouldn’t make the same mistake again. And she sure as hell wouldn’t let thinking about them ruin this day for her.

Today was a day for celebrating how she’d reconnected with Blane last night, how making love had cemented what she’d already known.

That despite her resolve to keep this thing casual, it had evolved into more, so much more.

He wanted a real marriage? It looked like he was about to get his wish.

How many times had she dreamed about happily ever after as a teenager but only in the vague, wishful fantasy sense, envisaging the perfect guy to make all her wishes come true? Lucky for her, her fantasy had come to life and stepped into her reality—twice!—leaving her breathless and amazed and slightly shell-shocked.

It was almost too good to be true. But she was through being super-cautious. She deserved this, deserved him. Being the best café operator in Melbourne might get her noticed in the hospitality industry, but it wouldn’t keep her warm at night.

Shrugging into her striped hooded top, she headed for the car, eager to see what her playful husband had in store. He was like a kid at Christmas with this grand surprise, and she had to admit he had her revved up, too.

She propped on the front of the ute, waiting for him as he chatted to some old guy leaning against the café’s striped post, using the time to absorb every impressive inch of her man.

That had a nice ring to it,
her
man, and with a smug smile she watched him rub the back of his neck in a habit of a lifetime, the simple action pulling his polo shirt up and revealing a tantalising sliver of tanned washboard abs above faded denim.

She’d explored every delicious muscular plane of his body last night, catapulted back to the past by the familiarity of it all, delightfully surprised by the newness of his adult maleness.

He’d been lean and scruffy and scrumptiously ruffled as a young man. Now her husband was an absolute dish.

After bidding the old guy goodbye with a snappy half-salute, he strode towards her, all long denim-clad legs and confidence.
Her man.
Oh, yeah, she loved the sound of that.

Swooping in for a swift kiss, he murmured against the side of her mouth, ‘That sundae must’ve been something else. You’re practically drooling just thinking about it.’

‘Who said I’m thinking about the sundae?’

Her hand slid over his hip and rested for a leisurely moment on the most tempting butt she’d ever seen, leaving him in little doubt what had put the dreamy look on her face.

He chuckled as he slung an arm over her shoulder. ‘I’m flattered. But I think you’re just buttering me up in an attempt to get a clue or two out of me.’

With a not-too-gentle pinch on his inspiring butt, she pulled away with mock indignation. ‘I wouldn’t resort to such underhandedness.’

‘Yeah, you would.’

He slanted his lips over hers again as she registered she’d probably do anything to have him kiss her like this.

‘Mmm…as much as I love that, I have to admit the suspense is killing me. When do I get to see this surprise?’

‘Right now.’

He held the passenger door open, and she smiled her thanks, thrilled by his impeccable manners. He’d always held doors open for her, but back then she’d thought he’d been trying to schmooze her. She hadn’t had time to appreciate what she had before she’d lost it, and this time she had no intention of making the same mistake.

After climbing in and revving the engine, he pulled out onto the quiet main street, and she settled back, trying to act nonchalant while she wanted to squirm with excitement.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

He shot a quick glance at her, the concern in his eyes troubling. ‘You had a funny look on your face for a while back there. Did that place remind you of your folks?’

She could have bluffed her way out of it, but being so close to him, the faintest waft of cedar tickling her nose and a palpable heat radiating off him, she could barely think straight let alone come up with a half-plausible excuse.

Crinkling her nose, she said, ‘Yeah, it did.’

Before she could blink, he’d pulled over and turned to her and cupped her cheek, his touch instantly soothing. ‘Want to talk about it?’

‘You mean my parents or their time warp coffee house?’

Her forced jocularity fell flat as he drew her closer and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips, a kiss of understanding, of support, and she slid her hands up his chest, gripping his T-shirt, feeling more anchored and safe in that moment than she ever had before.

‘You said you left Rainbow Creek not long after I did. From what they told me before I left, once I was out of the picture everything would be fine with you guys. What happened?’

Sighing, she reached for the end of her ponytail and twisted it till she couldn’t twist anymore.

She didn’t want to dredge this up, not today, the first day of the rest of their lives, but he’d asked. Besides, she had no hope of denying him anything when he cradled her close like this, making her feel more cherished and secure than she’d ever been.

‘You name it, they did it. Lying. Manipulating. Controlling.’

Swallowing down the bitterness that arose whenever she thought about their final showdown, she forced herself to continue.

‘My nan died when I was sixteen. She and Mum never got
on, so Nan left me everything. I never really asked how much it was all worth, but I knew it had to be hefty. Apparently, once her assets were sold, all the cash would be tied up in a trust fund I couldn’t access till I was twenty-one.’

‘Wow, so you’re loaded. Good to know you’re not just with me for my money.’

With a tender grin, he brushed a strand of hair off her face, and she leaned into his palm, relishing his support, finding the need to keep talking surprising. She hated rehashing old stuff, painful stuff, but this was strangely cathartic.

‘My folks knew how much I wanted to move to Melbourne. It was all I talked about as a teenager, and I made it pretty clear that once I came into Nan’s money I was out of there. Not because I didn’t love them or Rainbow Creek, it was just my dream, you know?’