Baby for the Tycoon: The Tycoon's Temporary Baby / The Texas Billionaire's Baby / Navy Officer to Family Man

“What did Claire tell you about Kristi?”

She didn’t answer right away. “Just that you were crazy about her. And she left.”

She’d paused long enough for him to know she’d been fabricating her answer. Condensing it down to the barest details.

But in his mind, he could all too easily imagine the longer version. The real version. The one where he made a complete ass of himself over Kristi. Where he handed her his whole heart… and did nothing but scare her away. “And?” he prodded.

“I figured… she must have been the one.” “And that’s what you surmised from Claire’s story? That Kristi was the one to break my heart?” “Am I wrong?”

What exactly was he supposed to say to that? Kristi had broken his heart. But he’d only been eighteen. “That was a lifetime ago.”

“What happened with her? What really happened?”

He forced his eyes open and tried to sound casual. “You’re the armchair psychologist. What do you think happened?”

She tilted her head to the side, considering. “I think that you, Jonathon Bagdon, are a pretty intense guy.”

He looked up at her. In the dark of the room, her skin was luminous. Her eyes were so dark they looked almost purple. She was so beautiful, it made his heart ache. As well as plenty of other parts of him.

Damn, but he wanted her. Not just her body. But all of her.

Thinking of her comment, all he could was mutter, “You have no idea.”

“The way I see it, I’m a grown woman. Someone who’s used to dealing with strong personalities. And there are times when even I’m a little overwhelmed by you. So this girl—Kristi?—she probably didn’t have a chance. I’m guessing you falling in love with her must have scared the hell out of her.”

“Yeah. That’s about it.” He let his eyes drift closed again. “This thing between us,” he began, but then corrected himself, “this physical thing between us, it’s pretty intense.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed softly. He opened his eyes to see her still sitting up, looking down at him. The look in her eyes made heat churn through his body, but it was her words that made his heart pound. “I’m not scared of you, Jonathon.”

“Maybe you should be.”

She tilted her head, studying him in the pink glow of the hippo. Indeed, she looked more aroused than frightened.

“Maybe.”

“Scratch that. You should definitely be afraid. If you knew half the things I want to do to you…”

She arched a brow, her expression a little curious, a little challenging. “You think you’re the only one with pent-up desire and an active imagination?”

Was she purposefully trying to destroy any chance he had of getting some sleep? Ever again?

“I think,” he answered her, “there’s a damn good chance you underestimate how sexy you look in a tank top.” It was hard to tell in the pink light, but he could have sworn she blushed. He couldn’t stop himself from going on. “And I also think you underestimate just how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you.”

Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath, highlighting all the wonderful things that tank top of hers did.

“You think you’re the only person this is hard for?” she asked.

“I think I’m the only one who’s a big enough jerk to wait until there was an innocent baby here in the bed between us, just to guarantee I’d keep my hands off you.”

She gnawed on her lip for a second then, looking secretly pleased with herself. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the image of her and that sexy bow mouth of hers.

He felt the bed shift as she lay back down. Then, so softly he thought he might have imagined it, she said, “Don’t be so sure about that.”

Eleven

She’d fallen asleep with her body fairly throbbing with unfulfilled sexual tension and she woke up alone. The feeling of jittery anticipation stayed with her as she headed for the bathroom and dug through the suitcases she’d left in Jonathon’s closet the day before. She quickly pulled on an oversize gossamer shirt and a pair of black leggings and headed downstairs to search out food and her family.

She walked into the kitchen just in time for her mother to pile her plate high with the last batch of buttermilk pancakes. Peyton was gurgling happily in the high chair beside the table, being cooed to by Mema. The kitchen was as warm and as welcoming as a Hallmark special. The tangy scent of pancakes mingled with the bitter zing of the coffee to stir long-forgotten memories of her childhood. She swallowed back a pang of loneliness and regret. She’d chosen to leave Texas and to distance herself from her family. That didn’t mean she didn’t miss them.

But with all that was going on in the kitchen, there was one thing that was missing. Jonathon.

Or to be more precise, three things: Jonathon, her father and Big Hank.

She didn’t notice at first, so caught up as she was in the pancake-scented time machine. But she paused, that first bite halfway to her mouth, and listened with her head cocked toward the kitchen door, mentally reviewing the walk down the stairs.

She set down the fork, heavenly bite uneaten. “Okay, where’d you send them?”

Mema’s back stiffened. “Why would you assume I’d sent them anywhere?”

Wendy shoved the bite of pancakes into her mouth and chewed out her frustration. “Well, they’re not here, are they? That means you’ve sent them off somewhere. Either so you can ply him for information. Or me, I suppose.”

Her mother and grandmother exchanged a look that made her very nervous. She forked off another bite and crammed it in. Weren’t carbs supposed to be calming? So why didn’t she feel any more relaxed?

She felt a niggling of fear creep up her spine. If she was honest with herself, she knew why she didn’t feel any calmer. When a pride of lions went hunting, they’d separate the weaker members of the pack from the rest to make it easier to pick them off.

Jonathon had just been separated from the herd.

“Where did they go?” she asked, feigning a calmness the pancakes hadn’t provided.

“Seriously, it’s nothing nefarious. Jonathon offered to show them FMJ’s headquarters. It’s not like they’ve taken him out back to beat him or anything.”

No. Maybe it wasn’t like that. But she feared how buddy-buddy they’d be when they got back.

She and Jonathon had only been married for two days and already her family was driving a wedge between them.

It was no easy task slipping out of the house when her mother and grandmother were there hovering. In the end, she lied. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did it.

I just want to run out to the grocery store for a few things, she’d said. Diapers. New formula. Oh, right. There are several cans in the pantry. But Peyton’s been so fussy I want to try a different brand.

Who knew motherhood would provide such ample opportunity for lying?

“I think between the two of us, Mema and I have raised enough children to muddle through,” her mother had said as Wendy headed for the door.

Wendy took the grocery store at a mad dash, storming the unfamiliar baby aisle as if it were the target of a shock-and-awe military campaign. She raked into her cart five different varieties of formula and enough diapers to keep Peyton dry until college. Then, back in the car, she retraced her path, bypassing Jonathon’s street and heading for FMJ’s headquarters.

Stopped at a light—mentally urging it to change more quickly—she took one brief minute to question her motives. Why was she so worried? What was the worst that would happen?

A few hours alone with her family wouldn’t convince Jonathon to revamp his entire life, write a tell-all and travel the country on the lecture circuit. After a single night of tossing back scotch with her uncle, he wasn’t going to quit FMJ and accept a position at Morgan Oil. Or worse, run for office.

But none of that logic slowed the pounding of her heart. Nor did it dry out her damp palms.

She so desperately wanted to believe that Jonathon was different than every other guy she’d ever dated. But what if he wasn’t?

He had to know how influential her uncle was within the government. One word from Big Hank and that contract they’d been working on could be a done deal. All Jonathon had to do was sell her uncle on the idea.

And when it came to FMJ’s proprietary technology, no one was a better salesman than Jonathon. If he had the chance to schmooze her uncle, he’d be a fool not to take it. She’d just hoped he wouldn’t have a chance.

By the time she swiped her security card at the campus gate, she was twitchy with anxiety. Part of her wanted to just drive. Not back to his house, not even back to hers, but just drive. She’d had a friend once who hopped in her car and drove to Cabo San Lucas every time life got messy. It was a twenty-eight-hour drive from Palo Alto. By tomorrow afternoon, Wendy could be sipping tequila on the beach. But none of her problems would go away. And then she’d be drunk or hungover and two thousand miles from them. That hardly seemed like the perfect solution. Twenty-seven years of rational decision-making wouldn’t let her go the Shawshank route.

She scurried into the front office, dropped her purse on the desk and sank into her chair. The simple familiarity of the actions settled her nerves. How crazy was it that the faint scent of ozone coming off all the computer equipment in the other room could be so calming?

Maybe her family was right and she was a nut for loving this job so much, but she couldn’t help it. Everything felt right in the world when she sat behind this desk.

She knew it was an illusion. If she went down to the R&D lab, she’d find Jonathon there with her father and uncle. And she just wasn’t ready to see that yet. Apparently, she’d run across town for nothing.

Letting out a sigh, she crossed her arms on the desktop and dropped her head into the cradle of her elbows. Then she heard a faint sound coming from the back office that Ford, Matt and Jonathon shared. She stilled instantly, listening. Slowly she stood and crossed to the door, giving it a nudge so it swung inward.

Jonathon stood behind his desk along the west wall. She was unused to seeing him in casual clothes, and couldn’t help admiring how good he looked in a simple cotton T-shirt and jeans. Though his laptop was out on his desk, it wasn’t open. There was a manila file in his hand.

“Oh,” she murmured as he looked up. “It’s you.”

His lips twitched. “Who’d you expect?”

“I…” She paused, momentarily stumped. Finally, she admitted, “I thought you were downstairs in the R&D lab. With my father and Big Hank.”

“Nope.” He frowned, obviously puzzling through why she would have thought that. “We ran into Matt. He offered to show them around.”

“Oh.” Relief flooded her. He wasn’t off schmoozing her family. He hadn’t fallen under their spell.

“Why’d you come in?” he asked.

“Oh, well I…” Not wanting to admit she suspected him of underhanded business tactics, she made a vague gesture toward her office. “Same as you. Wanted to catch up on some work.”

Suddenly, now that her fears about Jonathon had been dispelled, another emotion came rushing into the void left by them: desire. Or maybe it had been there all along, right under the surface, waiting for an excuse to rise to the top, as it always did.

“Right.” He nodded. “Since I figure we won’t be in tomorrow we might as well—”

“Why won’t you be in tomorrow?” she asked, without really listening for the answer, because her mind was back in the bedroom, the night before, hearing him confess how much he wanted her. And she was remembering how he’d looked in the light of that ridiculous pink hippo, the bedsheet pulled only to his waist, the muscles of his chest so clearly defined despite the dim lighting.

“Your family. They’ll still be here then.”

“So? What does that have to do with your work?”

“While they’re here, our first priority is convincing them we’re a happy couple. We can’t do that if we’re not together.” “But work—” she protested. “Can wait for a few days.” Work? Wait? Who was this guy?

Whoever he was, she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She was going to have a hard enough time sleeping in the same bed with him for the next week. She’d been counting on their time at the office to return to normalcy. Now more than ever, she needed him to be the hard, analytical boss she was used to.

Her mind was still reeling from that little bomb when Jonathon said, “Since we’re both here, why don’t you go grab your computer and we’ll try to get some work done?”

“The thing is, Jonathon, I—”

Then she broke off abruptly. Because what could she really say? He was waiting, expectantly. Looking so handsome it made her heart ache. “The thing is, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“Slip so easily between the work me and the me that has to pretend to be your wife. I don’t know why it seems so easy for you, but—”

“You think this is easy for me?”

“Well. Yes. You barely seem aware that at this time yesterday you were kissing me. Or that last night we slept in the same bed.” She paused, waiting for him to say something. Though his gaze darkened, he didn’t comment and suddenly she felt ridiculous for saying these things aloud. “Which is fine, I mean, this is my problem. I’ll figure it out. But I think I just need to get out of here for a couple of hours. Get my head on straight.”

Maybe that trip to Cabo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She turned and had made it most of the way to the door when he grabbed her arm and turned her around. She barely caught her balance when he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her.

Twelve

His mouth was hot and firm on hers. It only took a second for her to lose herself in the sensation of being kissed by him. No, not just kissed, devoured. She felt completely swept away by it. By him. By the sensation of his hand gently cupping her jaw. By his arm at her back, pressing her body to his. The feel of his lips as they moved over hers in a hundred delicate kisses.

“This is not easy,” he pulled back just long enough to say. And then he kissed her again. “It’s never been easy.” Another kiss. “Not once in five years.” And another kiss. “Not once has it been easy.” And another. “To stay away from you.”

And then his tongue was in her mouth, seducing her with long, slow strokes, stirring heat in her body. Making her all but tremble with need. She felt as though her skin was overheated. Tingly and antsy. As if she was on fire. Her nipples prickled, demanding to be touched and she arched against him, pressing her breasts to his chest, desperate for some kind of contact. And still it wasn’t enough.

Wrapping her arms around him, she twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him back just enough to ask, “Then why did you stay away?”

He gazed down at her, his eyes foggy with lust. “I don’t know.”

And for the life of her, she didn’t know either. Honest to God, she couldn’t think of one damn reason why they shouldn’t be together. It had nothing to do with Peyton or the marriage. Nothing to do with her family or the rebellious tendencies she’d thought were long dead. This was about them. It had always been about them. And now that she was kissing him—now that his hands were all over her, making her tremble—she couldn’t think of any reason why they should stay apart. When it was so obvious that they were meant to be together.

His lips moved from her mouth down to her neck, leaving a delicate trail of red-hot nibbles. She arched into his lips, all but praying he’d move lower and take her breast into his mouth.

“Oh, Jonathon,” she murmured. “Please…”

She wasn’t sure what exactly she was pleading for. Not when there were so many things she wanted him to do to her. So many places on her body she wanted him to touch and explore. All she knew was she wanted more. All of him.

Then abruptly, he let go of her and stepped away. Her body sagged with mounting desire, her legs limp and barely able to hold her up.

Thank goodness, she didn’t need to support her own weight for long. His hand grasped her bottom, lifted her firmly against him and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. The position was perfect. Exquisite. As if her body had been precisely designed to wrap around his.

Her leggings were thin enough that she could feel the denim of his jeans through the delicate fabric. She felt every seam, every ridge. The hard line of his erection beneath his zipper pressed against the very center of her. She rocked her hips, increasing the pressure against her core, sending fissures of pleasure rocketing through her body.

He groaned low in his throat, still kissing her. Then he pulled his mouth away from hers. “You’re killing me here.”

She grinned, brimming with pure feminine pride. “Am I?” she asked, shifting her hips again, delighting in tormenting him. But the sensation was too divine and she shuddered as well.

He muttered a curse that was half exasperation, half pride. “I shouldn’t do this,” he muttered. “I should be stronger than this, but I can’t…” He nipped at her neck in a primal, animalistic sort of way that sent a shower of pleasure radiating across her skin. “I can’t stay away any longer.”

A second later, she felt him bump against the edge of his desk. He lowered her slowly down the length of his body. She didn’t have even a moment to miss his warmth or the pressure against her sensitive skin, because he reached under the hem of her shirt and hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her tights and pulled them down her legs in one smooth movement, stripping away her panties as he did so.

She kicked off her shoes as she stepped out of her leggings, naked from the waist down. Her shirt hit her mid-thigh, but the fabric was gossamer thin and left her feeling scandalously exposed. Standing in her boss’s office, half-naked, trembling with desire.

He stepped back to look at her. The heat in his gaze made her skin prickle. Suddenly she was very aware of her hardened nipples pressing against the thin cotton of her bra. Of the moisture between her legs and the cool air on her thighs.

A feeling of vulnerability started to creep in under the heat of desire. Then she looked up and saw the expression on Jonathon’s face. It was part dumbstruck awe and part reverent glee. Like a little boy standing in front of a Christmas tree, staring at the presents, wondering which one was his.

She brought her hands to the buttons running down the front of her shirt. Then flicked them free, one by one. His gaze stayed glued to the progression of her hands. He didn’t move an inch. Except for his hands, which slowly curled into fists. As if it was all he could do not to reach for her and rip the shirt off her body himself. As if she was his deepest fantasy come to life.

For all she knew, maybe she was.

She wanted to think so. Needed to believe it. Because he was certainly hers.

It wasn’t a fantasy she’d consciously entertained. Never something she dwelled on. Nevertheless, the idea of being with Jonathon, of seeing exactly this expression in his gaze… it had always been there. Right beneath the surface of her thoughts. Niggling at the edge of her awareness. She’d pushed it aside countless times. But now she pulled it from the depths of her mind and let it out into the light of day.

She wanted this. For years she’d wanted this. And now he was about to be hers.

Her hands reached the last button. She slipped it free of the buttonhole, letting the shirt fall open.

With a sweep of his arm, Jonathon knocked everything off his desk except for the blotter. Then he set her down carefully on the desk.

“You can’t imagine the times I thought about doing this.” He pressed a hot kiss to her neck as he nudged her shirt off one shoulder. “Every day.” He nipped at her collarbone, sending hot spikes of desire radiating down through her chest. “I pictured you sitting here.” His fingers popped open the front closure of her bra and peeled back the cups to reveal her bare breasts. “Right on my desk.” Her bra dropped off and she arched her back as he trailed the tip of one finger from her collarbone down to her nipple. “Completely naked.”

With a groan he dropped to his knees in front of her. As if he could no longer resist the temptation she presented. He parted her thighs, moved her bottom right to the edge of the desk and placed his mouth at the very core of her.

He devoured her in tantalizing licks. She dropped back onto her elbows, her eyes almost closed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. He was patient and thorough.

The pleasure was so intense that her eyes nearly rolled back in her head, but she couldn’t make herself look away from the sight of his head between her legs, his close-cropped dark hair in such sharp contrast to her pale, quivering thighs.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he focused his relentless attention on the tiny bundle of nerves so central to her pleasure, stroke after stroke, until she could hardly catch her breath. Then she felt his hand at her entrance. One finger, then two, plunged into her. She dropped onto her back, arching off the desk. As her climax crashed over her, she cried his name.

It felt like more than five years. Maybe his whole life he’d been waiting to see her like this. Spread out before him on the very desk that had so often been between them. She was the most delectable treat he’d ever sampled. Hot and moist with desire. Trembling from the aftereffects of a climax. His name still a whisper on her lips.

Now, here she was. Just like he’d always wanted. And he couldn’t find a damn condom.

He had them here. Somewhere in the desk. Because he’d known for years how much he wanted her. And that some day he might act on it. Hell, there had been no “might” about it. With only the slightest hint of interest from her, he’d have acted on it. She needn’t have stripped naked for him here in his office, though that certainly had been a dream come true.

And now he couldn’t find the damn things.

He pulled one drawer out completely, dumping the contents on the floor. And then he did the same with the next drawer. And the next. Finally he found them, just when he thought the sight of her might make him come in his pants, just when his erection was twitching with the need to be inside of her.

When she saw what he’d been looking for, she was as eager as he was. He ripped open the package with trembling fingers, even as she unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down around his hips. Then a second later, he was inside of her, her legs spread wide, her arms outstretched as she leveraged herself against the desk. Her hips bucked off the surface as he plowed into her over and over again. The feel of her body clenching around him was exquisite. The taste of her, still on his lips, was divine. But it was the sound of her cries of pleasure that sent his own climax rocketing through his body.

He knew in that moment, that he wanted her—just like this—forever. And that scared the hell out of him.

As soon as Wendy was able to move again, she sat up, pressing her face against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. She breathed in the musky scent of him. Relished the feeling of his taut muscles beneath her fingers and of his warm skin beneath her cheek. She wanted to sit like this forever, wrapped around him. Clinging to him. Her body still thrumming with pleasure. The feeling of complete and utter contentment cocooning her from the rest of the world.

But the world was out there and it wouldn’t stay away forever. So when he stepped out of her embrace, she let him go, when what she really wanted to do was hold on fast.

She moved slowly, pulling her bra back on and then her shirt. Her fingers were still fumbling with the buttons when he spoke.

“This can’t happen again.”

Her head whipped up and she stared at him. He’d turned away from her, but she could read the tension in his back as he zipped up his jeans. “Why not?”