The CEO's Surprise Family (5 page)

“I get to see her and I go as often as they'll let me, but if I don't do something soon, they'll release her for adoption and I'll never get to see her again.” In her eagerness, she stepped closer bringing the scent of a tropical night with her. She raised pleading eyes to his. “You have to help me.”

“I don't actually.” Time to go. This woman got to him. Had since the moment she walked into his world. If he didn't leave now, he'd promise her the moon. “I need to consider what you've told me.” He moved to the door, grabbing his jacket en route. “I'll have my assistant call you for an appointment in the next day or two.”

She nodded. Her arms were crossed over her chest again, but the pose held elements of disappointment and hope, as if she were holding herself together by a thread.

Damn it. He charged across the room and grabbed up the picture. “I'm taking this with me.”

This time when he left, he didn't look back.

* * *

There was no going to sleep after Jethro's visit. She tried. And failed. She tossed and turned, replaying her conversation with him over and over in her head. After two hours, she finally gave up and crawled out of bed still not knowing what to think.

She dragged herself to the kitchen and the coffeepot. The scent of the fresh-ground beans perked her up. She stood over the machine as it brewed, holding her cup under the spigot to catch the first stream and then switching in the pot.

She wandered to the couch and curled up with her cup. Dancers by trade tended to be night people. She used to be at her peak at this hour. Tonight her brain barely functioned except it wouldn't shut off.

Jethro had pointed out he didn't have to help her. But he'd taken the picture. And his assistant would be calling to make an appointment. Did that mean he believed her? Or was his comment just a way to get him out of the apartment without a further scene and she'd never see him again?

No. She refused to believe he'd just walk away. She'd seen the look in his eyes when he'd stared at the picture of Jazi. He saw the resemblance. And he'd act on it.

Wouldn't he?

Stop. She couldn't take this vicious Ferris wheel any longer. She drained her coffee and went to change. She needed to dance.

She'd given up her vocation, but she'd always dance. She needed the release like she needed to breathe. Especially now. The exercise would help her to get out of her head and relieve the tension still lingering in her body from its encounter with Jethro's. There had to be a gym open somewhere at this hour.

* * *

Jethro stood staring out the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse suite. The lights and flash of the Las Vegas Strip spread out before him in a glimmering kaleidoscope of color and movement. And he saw none of it.

He couldn't get the picture of a dancing baby with midnight-blue eyes out of his head.

He'd resolved to never have a family. But Lexi's announcement shook him. If he had a daughter, that changed everything.

Except it didn't have to.

Lexi wanted to raise the baby as her own. She couldn't be more clear that he wasn't invited to the party. His money and presence were not needed.

A knock came at the door and then Clay Hoffman stepped inside. Tall and blond, the man moved with military precision. You could put the grunt in a suit, but you couldn't take the army out of the man. A foster brother and friend, Clay ran all things security related for Pinnacle Enterprises.

“I got your summons.” Clay went to the bar and helped himself to a drink. “What's the emergency?” He dropped down on the brown suede couch and glanced around. “Where are Jackson and Ryan?”

“They aren't coming.” Jethro joined his friend in the living area. “This is personal.”

“Personal?” Clay's brows rose. “And it couldn't wait until morning? Do you have an incident with one of your other companies? Cause you know the guys are more than willing to help even when it's not Pinnacle business.”

“I prefer to keep this private for now.” Jethro picked up his abandoned drink and sipped. The burn of whiskey down his throat—just what he needed to loosen his tongue. “It appears I may have a daughter.”

“As if.” Clay laughed and sipped his drink. “Come on, tell me what this is about.”

Jethro simply stared at him.

Finally Clay's eyes went big and he shook his head. “You're serious. You have a daughter?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Jethro glanced at the picture frame on the coffee table.

“Is this her?” Clay reached for the picture and stared. “Oh, hell.”

“So you see it, too?”

“That she has your eyes? It's hard to miss.”

“I'm told she has my birthmark, too.”

Clay returned his attention to the photo and squinted. “Hmm. Could be, I guess. I'd want to see it up close to confirm. And we'll need a DNA test. Who is the mother?”

“And that's why I called you.” He rarely asked for help. But in this case he knew his friend would direct him through the quagmire discreetly and efficiently. Jethro filled Clay in on all the details. “I need to know for certain she's mine before I make any decisions.”

“Of course. I already have a sample of your DNA.” The Fabulous Four were all millionaires and after Jackson went AWOL last year Clay had collected DNA samples from each of them as a security measure. “It shouldn't be a problem getting the baby's from the county. And I have a lab that will turn the results around in a day.”

“Good.” Jethro stood to pace. “I want to see her.”

“Whoa.” Clay held his hands up in a time-out gesture. “If you're serious about giving her up, that may not be a good idea.”

“It's the right thing to do, don't you think? Giving her up?”

“Only you can answer that, bro.” Clay's alert gaze pierced through Jethro's ambivalence. “You never talk about family, except to say you never planned to have one of your own.”

“Because I don't have any. The foster system was never able to locate any next of kin for me.” There was no record of who'd abandoned him. Kind of hard to get info from no one.

“In that case this little girl may be the only family you'll ever know. You should think carefully before you sign your rights away.”

Jethro shot his friend a get-real grimace. “I'm not equipped to raise a kid. I don't scare easy but the thought of taking on custody of a little girl outright terrifies me. But I'd castrate myself before I left her in foster care.”

“Ouch,” Clay flinched, “but I hear you. You know it doesn't have to be all or nothing. You can negotiate the terms.”

Jethro shook his head. Sharing custody with the red-hot redhead was not going to happen. Between baby and dancer, he'd never know another moment of peace. “Lexi made her terms clear. I won't jeopardize Jasmine's future.”

He hesitated. “Jackson and Grace might raise her.”

Jethro had considered the option, but he wouldn't do that to his friend. “They aren't even married yet. I can't ask them to do that. And if she were that close, I may not be able to refrain from interfering, which wouldn't be fair to anyone. No, Lexi Malone is her godmother. She obviously loves the child. It's the best solution.”

“Then I recommend you don't see her.”

Knowing Clay was right, Jethro struggled with the irrational compulsion. He prided himself on making dispassionate decisions. Not this time. “If she's mine, I have to see her.”

Clay sighed. “If she's yours, I'll set it up.”

* * *

Lexi's day didn't get any better as it wore on. Jethro's assistant called but the appointment had been postponed for a day.

The delay was torture. Every minute dragged. And what filled her head? The feel and taste of Jethro Calder. When she'd sought him out last night, the last thing she'd contemplated was an attraction to the man.

Because it complicated much?

Of course she never could have predicted he'd track her to her apartment and seduce her in her own living room. Thank her lucky stars she came to her senses before he actually got her in bed. But it had been too close, the struggle too hard for her peace of mind.

She hadn't lost her head like that in...no, she'd never lost her head like that. Been so swept away by a man's kiss, by his touch, that she lost all sense of the here and now.

The fact he was her goddaughter's father put him off-limits. Those forbidden moments in his arms were hot enough to give her regrets, but Jazi had to come first.

Desperate and longing to see her little girl, she called Jazi's foster mother about setting up an appointment to see the baby, but it wasn't convenient today. Instead they made arrangements for the next day.

Waiting proved too brutal so Lexi called in to Modern Goddess to see if she could put in extra hours and went into work early.

Between waiting and fighting off memories of Jethro's kiss it looked set to be a long day.

* * *

Long didn't describe her day. Try excruciating. Lexi decided she required the distraction of people around her for dinner. She didn't set out for that place to be The Beacon, but somehow that's where she ended up.

And surprise, surprise Calder sat at the bar.

Lexi hesitated, about to leave. They had an appointment for the next day. She should leave him in peace. Instead she slid onto the stool next to his.

“A glass of white wine, please,” she said to the bartender. “Mr. Calder.”

“Ms. Malone.”

“Was your day a living hell? Because mine was.”

“This is Las Vegas. It's not unusual for the weather to be warm this time of year.”

She laughed. “And here I thought you had no sense of humor.”

“I'd like a bit of peace with my drink if you don't mind.”

“I do mind. I'm no good at waiting. I need someone to talk to and as I'm trying to be discreet about this whole thing, you're the only one I can talk to.”

“You're assuming a lot.”

“Not so much.” Her wine appeared in front of her. She smiled her thanks at the bartender. “Our appointment tomorrow tells me you acted on the information I gave you.”

“I may just want more information.”

“If that were the case, the appointment would have been for today. You don't appear to be too good at waiting either.”

He sent her a searing sideways glare. “The test results aren't back yet.”

“Bummer.” She sipped her wine. “I guess we'll have to talk about something else.”

“Or you could go away.”

“I just got my wine.”

He tilted his drink, ice clinking against the glass. “I suppose next you'll want dinner.”

“I thought you'd never ask.” She snagged a pretzel from a bowl on the bar. “It'll be our second nondate.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” he demanded, clearly annoyed. “Because it's not funny.”

“Ah, the stuffed shirt is back. Now he has no sense of humor.”

He lifted a finger and the bartender came over. “Sam, a table for two please.”

“Of course.” Sam went back to serving.

In less than a minute the maître d' appeared beside them. “Sir, your table is ready.”

“Thank you.” Jethro gestured for her to follow the tall man.

“Do you like salmon?” he asked as they wound through the tables.

“I do.”

The maître d' stopped and waved them into a quiet alcove where a large table was set for two. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Two specials. Would you care for another drink?” Jethro addressed the question to her.

“No, but I'd like water, please.” She unfolded the linen napkin into her lap.

Jethro nodded to the maître d'. The man bowed and acknowledged, “Two specials and two waters. Enjoy your meal.”

“Nice.” The alcove had the feel of an elegant library with a faux fireplace. Above the mantel Lexi admired the Kittrell picture the artist had given Jethro. The cigar-and-decanter piece fit the area perfectly. “I'm impressed.”

Jethro pointed to the Kittrell. “Ethan said you helped pick out the picture he gave me.”

“He asked for some advice. I warned him we didn't know each other well, but he insisted. The piece reminded me of The Beacon so I thought you'd like it.”

“I do, very much.”

Did he? His stoic features were so hard to read. “I'm glad. He wanted to please you. He was very grateful for what you've done for him.”

“Good talent deserves to be recognized.” He sat back so the waiter could deliver the water and rolls. “Have you ever eaten here?”

“No, but I've wanted to. I've heard lots of good things about The Beacon, even before I came to the Pinnacle.” She grinned at him. “I never would have bet I'd be sitting at the owner's table when I finally made it here.”

“The world works in mysterious ways.”

“So true.” She spread butter on one of the warm yeast rolls. “If I hadn't gone to one more dance class, I would never have met Alliyah, never moved to Las Vegas, never have met you.”

He eyed her speculatively. “One wonders if there would still be a Jasmine?”

“I don't know. Alliyah's path might have been different as well. But it didn't happen differently and here we are.” She bit into the roll and chewed. And then moaned. “OMG, these rolls are delicious. They practically melt in your mouth. Oh, yum.” She pushed the basket toward him. “Keep those over there. Do not let me have another one. Not even if I beg.”

“Naturally, I've looked you up,” he stated. “But why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?”

He probably hadn't gotten the full report on her yet. She had no doubt whatsoever someone was working on one. “I was a music prodigy as a child. I graduated when I was fifteen, played violin with the Michigan Philharmonic at the age of sixteen while pursuing my PhD at the University of Michigan.”