A Family For The Billionaire

This stubborn tycoon isn’t a family man...or is he?

When Royce Brazier hires the hottest event planner in Savannah to mastermind his charity masquerade ball, it’s just another win for his portfolio. But Jasmine Harden isn’t some lackey to boss around. The dynamic single mom and her adorable little girl quickly penetrate Royce’s business-only facade...and Jasmine’s passionate kisses cast a sensual spell...

Jasmine fears falling for the most eligible bachelor in town, even as she falls into Royce’s bed. Is her billionaire boss’s bad attitude about family based on a deeper hurt? Perhaps Jasmine and her daughter are the ones to change his mind!

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than for Jasmine to spend the rest of the night with him.

“Need to go?” he finally asked.

Jasmine hesitated. If he’d been in her situation, he would have, too.

Covering the few steps left between them, Royce let his body act on instinct. He reached out and cupped the cool skin of her upper arms. Then he rubbed up and down, aiming to warm her. But also to fulfill his own craving to simply touch her.

She stared up at him in the dark. Beneath his touch, she shivered, then she shook her head no.

“Then come back to bed.”

That first touch of skin on skin exhilarated him. He rolled over her in the bed, covering her cool body with his warmth. Savoring the gasp of air that signaled her surrender.

* * *

A Family for the Billionaire is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No. 1 bestselling series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men…wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.

A Family for the Billionaire

Dani Wade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DANI WADE astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the Southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.

To all the sisters who have enriched my travels and blessed my life—

LeaAnn, Sheridan, Tammy, Hannah, Nicole, Kim, Kira, Andrea, Marilyn, Linda and LJ.

My journeys wouldn’t have been the same without you...

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Extract

Copyright

One

“I assume this meeting is being conducted with the utmost confidentiality?”

“Of course,” Jasmine Harden said, though she had never before had to assure a potential client of that.

“Then I’ll be honest.”

She eyed Royce Brazier as he paced before her in his suit and tie. The floor-to-ceiling windows of his office overlooked the river and provided the perfect backdrop. Gorgeous—the man and the view. As he paused for a moment, she noticed just a hint of something on his neck, right above his collar in the back. Was that a tattoo?

Quickly Jasmine dropped her gaze. She knew exactly how easy it was to read her expression, so she turned her thoughts in more businesslike directions.

“Besides,” he continued as he faced her once more, “if word got out, I’d know where it came from, wouldn’t I?”

Okay, Royce was making it a lot easier to focus on business.

“My shipping fleet has done very well, but I’m interested in taking my business to a new level. To that end, I’m aiming to attract a certain family that I hope will contract extensive work from my fleet.” A frown marred Royce’s smooth forehead. She could almost see the thoughts as they took hold of him. “This family is very altruistic and so I want to do a fund-raising event that appeals to them.”

“So this is all about a business deal?” Though she could understand the logic Royce was working with, the conclusion was still disappointing. The hot CEO apparently didn’t have a heart...

“It’s purely a business endeavor. As with other projects, I’ll write the check, you do the work.”

Wasn’t that a nice attitude? Not. Though Jasmine regularly worked with high-profile businessmen in this city, she’d never had one approach her with a proposal this cold. “Why me?” she asked quietly.

“I did my research,” he said, turning a direct stare on her that made her uncomfortably aware of things other than business. “You’re well known in the circles I want to attract, your clients have a very high rate of satisfaction and we use some of the same vendors, the best vendors in the city of Savannah.”

His praise should make her feel better, right?

“My assistant received some wonderful feedback on you. You were rated the highest of star-quality event planners in the region.

“I only work with the best of the best. That’s how I can trust you to do the work.”

Why did he have to be so handsome? A handsome automaton. That slight peek at a tattoo on his neck had led her to expect more. A huff of laughter escaped as she imagined him as a true robot in her overactive imagination.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on her as if suspicious she was making fun of him.

“Nothing.” At least she hadn’t giggled. That would definitely be unprofessional. “Can you tell me what charity you have in mind?” she asked, trying to get back on track.

“I don’t. Pick whatever you feel is appropriate.”

Jasmine blinked. Everything about this meeting was completely out of the ordinary when it came to how she worked with her clients.

“I simply need an event that is noteworthy and appropriate,” he continued. “They seem to be involved in quite a few causes. Oh, and I need it in less than two months.”

Oh, my. “So you think I’m a miracle worker?”

This time he relented enough to offer a small smile. “I certainly hope so. Otherwise the event will be too late to have any impact on my bid. Can I count on you?”

She thought back over their conversation. No. No. And no. “Listen, I don’t think I’m the right person for this job.” Or quite frankly, for this boss. She had a feeling that working for him would be a minefield, and with her life in tumult already, she didn’t need a difficult boss.

He stopped his pacing to stare. “Why not?”

You’re too handsome, too business minded and too cavalier about this endeavor altogether.

Only she couldn’t say any of that out loud. Questions rang in Jasmine’s mind as she watched him, thinking hard. She’d heard plenty about Royce Brazier, but she’d never actually met him before today, despite her extensive work with Savannah’s elite. One of the city’s youngest billionaires—self-made through his dedication to his quickly growing shipping business—he attended only a few select events on the social scene. Considering his reputation as a hard-nosed, focused businessman and what she’d seen during this meeting, she had a feeling he only did that much to maintain his business contacts.

His presence was commanding, his look suave and professional. So suave she wanted to mess with his perfectly placed blond hair just for the heck of it. Jasmine was professional, too, but she often had the feeling she was herding cats—especially since the arrival of Rosie...and often feared that it showed.

“Look,” she tried to explain, searching for words that Royce would understand. “I realize charity events are good ways of getting positive press and word of mouth, but my events are known for having heart.”

“Good. Then you can give a heart to mine.”

She was still unsure how to make him understand that this wasn’t a good fit for her. To her relief, his phone rang.

“Yes, Matthew?” he asked over the speaker.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but your lawyer just had the agreement you requested delivered.”

“I need to take a quick look at this,” Royce explained to Jasmine. “Excuse me a moment.”

“No problem.” A few minutes to herself might give her time to regroup.

Glancing around his office, Jasmine noticed right off that there were no personal touches. No novels or magazines. No photographs of his family...or even of him with friends. A framed photo of a large building graced a prominent spot on the wall.

Jasmine couldn’t imagine being this impersonal. She knew a lot of people, cared about a lot of people, but her family was her core support. Few others got to see behind her public persona. After losing her parents when she was a teenager, she couldn’t imagine the devastation she would feel if she lost any other members of her family.

She’d known Royce wanted an event planned—after all, that’s what she did. But his complete lack of personal interest or passion was daunting. And though there were some charities that didn’t require the benefactor to be very involved, it wasn’t the way she wanted to work.

But how could she convince him that a more hands-on approach was needed?

“So what do you say?” The smooth smile on Royce’s face as he returned to the room was so attractive it made her chest ache. She saw a lot of powerful, pretty men in her job, but Royce had to be the pinnacle. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what to do with that, either.

“Should we start talking contracts?”

Jasmine nodded, willing her expression to remain neutral. “Yes, but I have a few requirements of my own.”

* * *

Royce Brazier eyed the woman before him with concern itching at his brain, though he was too smart to let it show.

Jasmine didn’t seem like the bargaining type. She appeared to be nothing like the cutthroat business people he dealt with on a daily basis. So why did he detect a hint of steel in those cornflower-blue eyes?

“A bit unusual for the event planner to start making demands, isn’t it?”

She arched her brow in a challenging expression, but judging from the way she was tightly clasping her hands in her lap, he had a feeling it was false bravado.

“It’s definitely not my normal MO,” she said. “But a girl’s got to have standards.”

No apology—he liked that. “Name your price.”

“Oh, it’s not about price.” She paused for a moment as she studied him. “It’s about participation.”

Royce was so caught up in her beauty that he wasn’t getting all the cues. “I’m not following...”

“I’ll happily take on your event—I already have some great ideas. And don’t get me wrong. Being given a lot of freedom is an event planner’s dream. But as I said, I have certain standards. This isn’t about what’s easiest for me...or you. A contract will require you to participate in each step of the process—”

“I guess we could touch base via phone.” Though seeing her wouldn’t be a hardship. Those blue eyes and her delicate bone structure were the first things to distract Royce from his business in a long, long time.

“You will participate by attending all the meetings that I deem necessary with vendors and representatives of the charity we support.”

What? Hold on a minute. “Nice try, sweetheart. I have a business to run. And more than enough to do. That’s why I’m hiring someone else to do this.”

“I also have a business to run. And a reputation to protect. You need to be involved for this to work. So it’s my way or no way.”

Royce scrambled to figure out just what was going on here. “There’s plenty of other event planners in this city.”

Jasmine nodded graciously, but he again got the feeling there was steel behind the genteel smile. “And you’re welcome to contact any of them, but they won’t have the experience I have with your target audience.” All too soon she was up and across the room, but she paused by the door. How could just the way she glanced back at him be so sexy? Especially as she proceeded to drop a bombshell. “I would like to remind you that I do know the Jeffersons personally, and I am a frequent guest at their parties.”

Shock rocketed through him. How had she known?

“You were referring to the Jeffersons, weren’t you? I do my homework, too.”

As she strode out the door with a tempting flash of leg, Royce was impressed even though he knew he shouldn’t be. Sexy and smart. It gave her too much of an advantage.

Two

“He knew exactly what he wanted,” Jasmine told her sisters, “and he wasn’t backing down.”

“He’s never come up against you before,” Willow said with a grin. Jasmine’s middle sister was a tenacious Southern woman, with the temper to match her copper-colored hair. Jasmine possessed a core of the same stuff but it only made a quiet appearance when necessary. She wouldn’t scream and cry, but she didn’t give up until every hope had been squashed flat by a steel-toed boot.

She might look like a lady, but she had more strength than most men. The tragedies in her life had demanded it. “Well, I believe I left him with some food for thought.”

“So, you were wearing your blue dress?”

Jasmine frowned. Her sister’s guess hit a little too close to home. “I didn’t wear the dress to entice him. It’s perfectly presentable.”

Her sisters shared a grin. Jasmine tried to let it go. After all, she knew more than most that a little cleavage helped smooth the path she traveled. She’d be a fool not to take advantage of her God-given assets—especially when they’d helped her put both of her little sisters through college—in a completely respectable manner.

“Well, maybe the dress helped a little...” she admitted in a low voice as Auntie stepped into the kitchen with Rosie. The sight of her adopted daughter, and being surrounded by the people who meant the most to her in the world, filled Jasmine’s heart and pushed aside thoughts of today’s tedious meeting.

She reached out for six-month-old Rosie. She was in her snuggly jammies, her skin lavender-scented from her bath. As she settled into Jasmine’s lap, Jasmine breathed deep. “I love you, baby girl,” she whispered against Rosie’s curly black hair.

Then she smiled up at the older woman. “Thank you, Auntie.”

“You’re most welcome,” Auntie said, bending to hug Jasmine and the baby together.

Jasmine would never have made it through the first six months of Rosie’s life without Auntie. Technically, she wasn’t their aunt. She’d been their mother’s nanny when she’d been small. She’d returned to Savannah when their mother hadn’t needed her anymore.

But when the girls’ parents had died, leaving them with no family at a very young age, Auntie had brought them home to Savannah. Jasmine had been a young teen, but her sisters were even younger. Auntie had finished raising them in this house and never once complained. She was as close to a mother as she could get without being a blood relation.

Each of the girls loved her just the same.

Jasmine’s baby sister, Ivy, joined them at the table with a plate of oatmeal cookies Auntie had made while they were all at work that day. “I’ve seen Royce Brazier at some of the meetings of the transportation planning commission, since he owns one of the biggest shipping companies on the East Coast,” she said, her bright blue eyes wide. “He’s pretty hunky.”

Jasmine could practically see every set of ears around the table perk up.

Ivy continued, “But I’ve heard he’s all business, 24/7.”

Jasmine agreed. “He made that very clear.”

Willow pouted. “What’s the fun in that?”

“Dealing with demands is a lot easier when they’re pretty,” Ivy said, with a grimace that still managed to look cute.

Jasmine threw her napkin across the table at her sister, making a sleepy Rosie giggle.

“The last thing I have time for right now is a man,” Jasmine insisted.

Her cell phone gave a quiet chirp, which was the ringtone she used at home so she didn’t accidentally wake the baby. She glanced at the screen. “He certainly is a workaholic,” she mused as she handed Rosie over to her youngest sister. She hadn’t expected to see Royce’s name on the caller ID at this time of night—or at all, really. She’d assumed he would never go for her conditions. Which had made her sad, because she could have used the work. But she had her principles.

She needed to remember that.

“This is Jasmine,” she answered, walking toward the door to the front parlor as her sisters mimed something and Auntie watched them indulgently.

“Brazier here.”

She smiled. I know. “What can I do for you?”

“After careful consideration, I’ve decided to renegotiate our terms, if that’s still possible.”

Interesting. “May I ask why?”

“Well, you certainly have a lot to offer.”

Was she just imagining his voice growing deeper?

He went on. “So I’ll agree to your terms—within reason.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ll attend meetings with the charity and vendors and such, but I’m not decorating rooms or tying bows or stuffing bags. Understood?”

Good thing he couldn’t see her smile. “Feel free to email me your demands and I’ll consider them.”

“You can’t talk now?” he asked.

“Roy—Mr. Brazier. It’s a little late. Almost nine o’clock.” And Rosie would need to go to sleep soon.

“Is your husband impatient for you to get off the phone?”

Okay, no way had she imagined that change in tone. Choosing to ignore his question, because it was fun to keep him guessing, she countered, “Don’t you have a family waiting for you to shut down?”

“No. A man with my schedule shouldn’t have a family—it isn’t fair to them.”

She thought of the little girl in the other room—how sometimes it was hard to force herself out the door in the morning because being away from Rosie left her feeling incomplete. Of course, life hadn’t afforded her the chance to stay home with Rosie—and there were plenty of family members in the house to keep her occupied until Mommy came home. “Commendable of you to realize that.” Though most men usually didn’t think that way.

“Simply practical—but you didn’t answer my question.”

And she didn’t plan to... “Working 24/7 isn’t good for anyone.”

“You enjoy your beauty sleep?”

This conversation was definitely off the business track—her brain derailed into forbidden thoughts of him in her bed. “I’ll watch for your email,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless.

She disconnected and returned to the other room. Her sisters were silent until she tried to pass, then they started in.

“Oh, Royce,” Ivy said, gasping with an extra dash of drama. “I must, simply must, have your email.”

“Is your wife waiting for you to get off the phone?” Willow teased.

“He asked first,” Jasmine protested.

“Which just gave you permission to dig.”

“It’s a business deal.” Why did she have a feeling she was trying to convince herself?

“It doesn’t have to be,” Auntie said as Jasmine lifted a sleeping Rosie into her arms.

Jasmine lowered her voice. “Not you, too, Auntie.”

“Your mother would not want you to be alone.”

The sisters froze at Auntie’s words. She rarely butted into their personal lives; though she was free with her help and guidance, her one very short marriage hadn’t qualified her to give advice to the lovelorn—according to her. So this was rare.

“I’m not,” Jasmine insisted. “I have you, the girls, Rosie. What do I need a man for?”

“I love the little one, too, and all you girls,” Auntie said. “But you keep yourself tucked away, protected. Your mother, despite everything she lost, still pushed forward and allowed love in. She would want that for all of you.”

Jasmine studied her sisters, who looked at each other slightly abashed. Theirs was a tight circle, and other than casual dates in high school and college, no man had ever infiltrated it. No man had even come home for dinner. And the sisters had always lived together, even through college.

They were their own island oasis. The thought of that changing sent a streak of unease through Jasmine.

As if reading her mind, Auntie nodded at her. “Keeping your circle small is not going to protect you from pain, Jasmine.” She smiled sadly. “It’s time, my sweets.”

“For what?” Willow asked when no one else would.

Jasmine didn’t want to know. Rosie was all the change she could handle in her safe little world. Her only challenges were in her career and she preferred to keep it that way. But when Auntie spoke in that all-knowing voice, things usually happened. Whether anyone wanted them to or not.

The older woman got up and crossed to the door. Jasmine could hear her progress up the stairs and eventually back down in the historic, but sturdy, home. Auntie came straight to Jasmine, leaving her with the feeling she’d been found by an unerringly accurate arrow.

Dropping into the chair next to her, Auntie held out a small jeweler’s box. Willow and Ivy leaned across the table for a better look.

“Your mother wanted you girls to have this,” Auntie said as she opened the box. “I found it with her things, packed away with a letter.”

Inside lay a ring with a teardrop-shaped emerald stone surrounded by decorative gold filigree. They all gasped—Jasmine included. It was an involuntary reflex. The ring was gorgeous. Not only that, it seemed to have something...something special that Jasmine couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Wait!” Willow said. “I remember Mama wearing that—she said it was an heirloom or something...”

“Indeed,” Auntie confirmed. “It was passed down to her from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on.”

Jasmine stared at the beautiful jewel, a sudden memory of it on her mother’s hand filling her mind. Her mother had been dressed up. An anniversary dinner, maybe? She and their father hadn’t ever gone to fancy parties and such. About as fancy as it got was her father’s Christmas gathering for the professors at the university where he taught. But she remembered her mother letting her stroke one small finger over the emerald. What had she said?

Then Auntie spoke, “Legend has it—”

Willow squealed. Jasmine groaned. Auntie gave them both an indulgent smile. Willow was the resident myth and legend hunter. She’d truly followed in their father’s footsteps, teaching history at the local community college. She loved tall tales, mysteries and spooky stories. She propped her chin on her palm, avidly awaiting Auntie’s words.

Jasmine just shook her head.

“Legend has it,” Auntie started again, “that this ring was given to the woman who founded your family line by the man she married.”

“Here in Savannah?” Ivy asked.

“Oh, yes. He was a pirate, you see, and she was the beautiful but shy daughter of a prominent family here.”