Twins For The Billionaire

Seducing the Single Mom

Widowed mom Sofia Bingham needs a job—fast! Her babies won’t feed themselves. Working for real estate tycoon Eric Jenner is the perfect solution. But her childhood buddy is all grown up now...and tempting as hell. Surely one unforgettable night of passion wouldn’t hurt? After that, they can go back to being all business!

But Eric doesn’t agree that they should put their red-hot romance on ice. He can’t deny his connection to Sofia’s adorable twins—or his consuming desire for their mother. What will it take to convince her that he’s playing for keeps?

God, how she wanted to be comforted.

To be touched like Eric was touching her now. She wanted to be the one taking the attention and affection instead of constantly having to give more and more of herself.

“Sofia,” he said again, his voice sending low flutters through her belly.

Really, no matter what the question was, the answer was simple. “Yes.”

His hands slid to a stop on the curve of her calves. Funny how she’d never really thought of calves as being particularly sensual until now. “Will you lie down and rest for a bit?”

She looked at him then. One of the most powerful men in Chicago—and quite possibly the country, to say nothing of the world—was on his knees before her, waiting for her answer.

She uncurled her fingers from where she’d fisted the bedclothes and reached out to stroke his cheek.

“Only if you join me.”

* * *

Twins 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.

Twins for the Billionaire

Sarah M. Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. Sarah’s book A Man of Privilege won an RT Book Reviews 2012 Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. The Nanny Plan was a 2016 RITA® Award winner for Contemporary Romance: Short.

Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and billionaires. Find out more about Sarah’s heroes at www.sarahmanderson.com and sign up for the new-release newsletter at www.eepurl.com/nv39b.

To the real Adelina and Eduardo—thanks for all your years of friendship and support with my family!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“So that’s it?” Eric Jenner stared at the private investigator’s report in his hand. The baby wasn’t his. Somehow, he’d known this would be the answer.

Funny how it still hurt like hell.

“That’s it.” The investigator stood. “Unless there was something else you needed?”

Eric almost laughed. What did he need? He needed a happy ending to this whole mess. But it was clear he wasn’t going to get one. Not today. Maybe not ever.

He gritted his teeth. Bad enough that he’d been stood up at the altar—literally. Six months later, the press was still having a field day with the photos of Eric looking stunned next to the priest. In front of six hundred wedding guests. In the Holy Name Cathedral.

But this? He knew he couldn’t keep it quiet forever. Prudence had married less than two weeks after she’d left Eric at the altar. Apparently, it was true love. How else to explain Prudence running away with an accountant from her father’s company? Who’d fathered Prudence’s son and was, according to the PI’s account, making her the happiest woman in the world.

Eric was thrilled for them. Really.

He breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know,” he said to the investigator. The man nodded and left.

Eric read the report again. Oddly, he didn’t miss Prudence. He didn’t lie awake in bed at night, missing her touch. He didn’t regret putting the condo he’d bought for her back on the market.

He’d clearly dodged a bullet. Except for one small detail.

That detail had been born at seven pounds, six ounces. He stared at the picture the investigator had included. The baby was bundled up in Prudence’s arms, his eyes closed and a little smile on his face. She’d named him Aaron.

Something tightened in Eric’s chest. No, Eric didn’t miss Prudence at all. But...

Everywhere he went, people had babies. Suddenly, he couldn’t avoid them. Even his oldest friend, Marcus Warren, had recently adopted a baby boy. After he’d married his assistant, of all people.

Eric and Marcus had always competed with each other—who had made the first million (Eric), the first billion (Marcus), who had the finest cars (it changed all the time) or the biggest boat. Eric always won that one, hands down.

It wasn’t like the contest was over. But the rules had changed and Eric wasn’t ready for this new game. He wasn’t ready to stand by as his best friend cooed over his son while his wife looked at them both with love in her eyes.

It should have been nauseating.

Eric and Marcus’s entire friendship was built on one-upmanship. But a loving wife and an adorable child?

And now this news from Prudence was the final blow.

One thing was clear. Eric had never lost this badly.

To hell with this.

He was Eric Jenner. He owned a quarter of the Chicago skyline, some of the most expensive properties in the world. He’d officially joined the exclusive ranks of billionaires. He was, he had been told, good-looking and good in bed. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t buy.

What he needed now was distraction. The kind he’d find in the arms of someone new who’d drive thoughts of happy families far from his mind. He hadn’t lost anything. He was glad Prudence was gone—that marriage would have been a disaster. He’d gotten lucky. He wasn’t tied down. He could do whatever he wanted—and what he wanted was everything.

The world was his for the taking. All he had to do was snap his fingers and whatever he wanted was his.

Abruptly, he slammed the report shut and jammed it in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Well.

Almost anything.

It turned out there were some things money couldn’t buy.

One

Ten months later...

The elevator door dinged. Sofia Bingham waited for the rest of the crowd to exit first, nerves swirling in her stomach. She was really doing this—interviewing for the job of office manager at Jenner Properties.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the foyer of Eric Jenner’s real estate empire. In her mind, this office had looked exactly the same as Eric’s father’s real estate office. Jenner and Associates had been a regal office located on the ground floor of a four-story building. John and Elise Jenner had run their exclusive agency on the Gold Coast of Chicago, catering to the rich and the ultrarich.

Her father, Emilio, had started as a janitor before moving up to staging houses for the Jenners and then starting his own company as a bilingual real estate agent. Sofia’s mother, Rosa, had been the Jenners’ housekeeper and Elise Jenner had had a soft spot for Sofia. Elise had showered Sofia with dresses and toys.

When Sofia had been growing up, the Jenners had seemed like the richest people in the world.

None of that had prepared her for this.

Jenner Properties took up the whole of the fortieth floor of the skyscraper at 310 South Wacker Drive. She could see Lake Michigan from here, the sun glittering off the water like a mirage come to life.

She smiled. It had been years since she had seen Eric Jenner, but she wasn’t surprised he had a good view of the lake. He’d always loved the water. Not only had he taught her to swim in his family’s pool but he’d even taught her how to sail his toy sailboats so they could race.

Around her, more elevators opened and more people poured out. Jenner and Associates had been run primarily by John and Elise Jenner and two other agents. But Jenner Properties was staffed by a small army of very serious-looking people, all of whom wore good suits and better shoes. Sofia looked down at her skirt and jacket combo, the nicest outfit she owned that didn’t have baby food stains on it. It was cute—a black-and-white polka-dotted skirt with a white jacket over a black blouse with a bow at the neck—but it wasn’t in the same class of clothing as the people rushing past her.

She stepped to the side and stared out at the lake. She was here for a job interview. The position of office manager had opened up and Sofia simply couldn’t keep working as a real estate agent. She needed regular hours and a regular paycheck. It was easy to say that she needed both of those things for her twins, Adelina and Eduardo, but the truth was, she needed them for herself.

Yes, this job paid enough that she could hire a nanny to help Mom out. Sofia had been a real estate agent with her husband, David. She couldn’t be one without him anymore.

There were other office manager jobs she could apply for, but this one paid more. That wasn’t the only reason she was here, however...

Would Eric remember her?

There was no reason he should. She hadn’t seen him since he’d turned sixteen and gone away to prep school in New York. Their paths hadn’t crossed in the fifteen years since and Sofia was no longer a gangly thirteen-year-old with crooked teeth.

So he wouldn’t recognize her. He probably wouldn’t even remember her. After all, she’d just been the daughter of the family maid and the janitor.

But she’d never forgotten him. Time might have changed her but a girl never forgot her first kiss. Even if that kiss had been the result of a dare, it still counted.

Nervously, she watched Eric’s employees file in. She needed this job, but she wanted to earn it on her own merits. She didn’t want to have to rely on an old family connection that he’d probably forgotten.

But desperate times and all that.

There was a lull in people exiting the elevators as she stepped forward to the reception desk. She and David had worked in a perfectly respectable office serving northern Chicago, Skokie, Lincolnwood, Evanston and the surrounding areas. But even the receptionist here had a nicer desk than she’d had at the office.

“Hello,” Sofia began, projecting more confidence than she felt right now. “My name is Sofia Bingham and I have a nine a.m. interview with Mr. Jenner.”

The receptionist was young, blonde and gorgeous. Her eyebrows alone were works of art, to say nothing of the trendy patterned jacket she wore. Her eyes flicked over Sofia, but she didn’t so much as frown, which had to count for something. “You’re here for the office manager position?” Even her voice sounded trendy.

“Yes.” Confident. That was Sofia. She could handle an interview. She could handle this office—although it didn’t seem to need a lot of managing.

“One moment, please.” The receptionist turned her attention to her computer screen.

Sofia’s stomach tightened with anxiety. She’d been selling real estate for over seven years and before that, she’d been helping at her parents’ agency. But managing an office like this?

This wasn’t just real estate agents. Eric Jenner no longer bought and sold houses. He bought land and built things, like this skyscraper. He employed agents and architects and interior designers and lawyers. He built exclusive office spaces and luxury apartments. And he did it so well that he had become a billionaire. Sofia didn’t stalk Eric online but it’d been hard to miss when he’d been left at the altar and then, just a few months later, been named one of Chicago’s top five eligible bachelors, following the marriage and subsequent delisting of his friend, Marcus Warren.

What was she even doing here? She didn’t know anything about billionaires. She knew how to sell houses and condos to families, not manage architects and negotiate tax breaks with municipalities. She was struggling to hold on to middle-class respectability, for crying out loud. She’d had to move back in with her parents because she couldn’t afford house payments or daycare. This was not her world.

Her chest tightened and she had trouble breathing.

Oh, no.

No, she could not have a panic attack. Not another one, not right now. She took a step back from the reception desk, the urge to flee so strong it was almost overwhelming. Two things stopped her. The first was the image of the twins in her mother’s arms this morning, all waving bye-bye to Sofia as she went off for her big interview. Mom had been training Adelina and Eduardo to blow kisses and it was the cutest thing ever. The twins needed more than Sofia could give them right now. They needed stability and safety. They needed a mom who wasn’t teetering on the edge, trying to keep everything together. To be that person for her children, she needed a steady job.

The other thing that halted her in her tracks was the sound of her name. “Ms. Bingham?”

She looked up and the air rushed out of her lungs. There he was. She’d seen pictures of him in those impossible-to-miss articles, but there was something unexpected about Eric Jenner in the flesh that shook her.

That smile, at least, hadn’t changed. But the rest of him? Eric Jenner was now over six feet tall, moving with an easy grace that projected strength and confidence. He was simply breathtaking in a way she hadn’t ever associated with him. His hair had deepened from bright copper to a rich burnished red, although his skin was still tanned. She almost grinned. Bronzed redheads were such a rare thing that it only made him all the more special.

One thing was certain—he was not the boy she remembered. His shoulders were broader, his legs more powerful as they closed the distance between them. And his eyes... When she lifted her gaze to his, he stumbled to a stop, his brow quirking and she knew he recognized her, even if he didn’t know from where. Something in her chest loosened and she could breathe again because she knew it was going to be all right.

She hoped, anyway.

Then the realization broke over his face. “Sofia?” He took a step forward before pulling up short. “I’m sorry,” he went on in a completely different voice. “You look like someone I used to know.”

She became aware that they were standing in the middle of the reception area and that, while no one was openly staring at them, a lot of people were paying attention to this conversation. She clutched the strap of her handbag harder. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Jenner,” she said because she did not want to presume anything at this point.

His face lit up and dang if that didn’t make her smile. “What are you doing here? And when did you get married?” He paused and looked at her again. A warm heat flushed her cheeks. Great. Blushing.

It only got worse when he said, “Wow. You really grew up.”

Her anxiety tried to wrestle control, but she powered through. “Actually, I’m your nine a.m. I’m here about the job.” He blinked at her. “The opening for office manager?” she prompted him.

“Oh, oh—right.” He glanced around, as if he was also just becoming aware of how this conversation might look to his employees. “This office could definitely use some management. Come on back.” He cast a critical eye around and people seemed to melt back into their offices but he did so with a faint smile on his face. Sofia caught the receptionist grinning and rolling her eyes. Eric saw it, too, and said, “All right, Heather—back to work.”

“Of course, Mr. Jenner,” Heather the receptionist said, still smiling. She had perfectly white, perfectly even teeth, which was almost enough to distract Sofia from the sly way she winked.

Eric winked back.

Sofia’s heart began to pound again. What did she know about him, really? The boy he’d been had been someone privileged and wealthy but still kind to a little girl. He’d taught her how to swim and roller-skate and had, on more than one occasion, played tea with her and some of his mother’s delicate china dolls.

But that didn’t mean he was the same person now. Yes, he was rich, handsome—and single. Of course he would make eyes at the beautiful young receptionist. And the beautiful young receptionist—well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course she would make eyes back.

Sofia had just begun to feel invisible when Eric turned back to her. “I had no idea you were applying for this job,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Tell me about your husband. Who was lucky enough to land Sofia Cortés?”

He said it in a way that was almost believable, the kind of benign flirting a man like Eric no doubt excelled at. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill small talk to Sofia. All she could do was keep breathing.

She didn’t say anything until he led her back into his office. The room was huge, with leather couches and a massive mahogany desk, plus a wet bar. And behind it all was a wall of glass facing due east. He had an almost perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. She didn’t sell downtown real estate, but even she knew this view was worth millions.

He closed the door behind her. For a moment, they stood with less than two feet separating them. Sofia became acutely aware of the heat of his body and it made her flush in a way that hadn’t happened in months. Years.

“What an amazing vista,” she said, striving for lighthearted—and willing him away from conversation about David. Willing away the heat she couldn’t seem to ignore.

Eric Jenner was every inch the billionaire bachelor. There was no doubt in her mind that his suit was custom-made—everything he wore was probably custom-made, right down to his socks. He’d paired a bold royal blue suit with a light pink shirt and a silk tie that probably cost as much as her car payment. It all fit him like a second skin.

A forgotten feeling began to pulse through her body, a steady pounding that got louder with each beat. For a dazed moment, she didn’t recognize it.

Desire. That’s what this tight, hot heaviness was. Want. She’d forgotten she could feel this way anymore. She’d thought...well, she’d thought she’d buried her needs with her husband.

The realization that she could still feel raw attraction was startling enough. But the fact that her body was feeling desire for Eric? Her cheeks got hotter by the second and here in the privacy of his office, there weren’t any winking receptionists or dinging elevators to distract his attention.

He stared at her, his eyes darkening. Her lungs refused to expand and she began to feel light-headed. She couldn’t want Eric and he shouldn’t be looking at her like that. That wasn’t why she’d come.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” she blurted out, making a conscious effort to look around the room. Photographs of him with famous people were mixed in with expensive-looking paintings and pictures of his buildings.

After a pause that was so quiet she was sure he could hear her pulse pounding, he said, “Was there any doubt?”

It sounded so cocky that she jerked back to look at him. He had a wolf’s grin on his face, but then everything about him softened and she almost saw the boy she’d known. “I work hard for what I have, but let’s be honest—I started from a place higher than almost everyone else, thanks to my parents.”

A little bit of the anxiety loosened in her chest. Yes, he had always been the privileged son of privileged people. But the Eric she remembered had been almost embarrassed by that fact. His parents hadn’t raised him to be an entitled, spoiled brat. How much of that boy still existed inside of him? Or was he the kind of man who hired a beautiful receptionist—or even a mildly attractive office manager—just to get her in bed?

She didn’t want him to be like that. If he was, she wasn’t sure she could destroy her fondest memories of him with reality. “How are your parents? I know they still exchange Christmas cards with my parents.”

Eric sighed, an action of extreme exaggeration that made him look younger. “They’re fine. They’re disappointed I didn’t manage to get married and start producing grandchildren, but they’re fine.” Before she could process that statement, he asked, “Your folks?”

“Doing well. I don’t know how much your parents have shared with you, but after you went away to school, my father started selling houses. Your father opened the door for him,” she added, always mindful of what the Jenners had done for her family. “It turned out there was a huge market for bilingual real estate agents and Dad was able to capitalize on that. He owns an agency in Wicker Park. Mom stays home with my children now. They spoil each other rotten.”

His eyes widened before he turned away from her and strode toward his desk. Each step put physical distance between them—but there was no missing the emotional distance that went up like a wall around him.

This was all casual small talk, every bit of it. But there was something else going on that Sofia couldn’t put her finger on. When he’d complained about his parents wanting grandbabies, it hadn’t sounded quite right. And the look in his eyes when she’d mentioned her kids? On anyone else it would’ve been longing. She couldn’t believe that someone like Eric Jenner, who literally had the world at his feet, would be interested in an old acquaintance’s babies.

He didn’t sit at the desk, didn’t turn around. Instead, he stared out at the lake. Although it was still early, she could see a few boats out on the water, ready to enjoy the beautiful summer day. “I hadn’t heard that you’d gotten married. Congratulations.” His voice was level—unfeeling, almost.

“Oh.” She couldn’t help the dejected noise that escaped. Eric half turned, his silhouette outlined in sunshine. “I’m not. I mean, I was. But he...he died.” No matter how long it’d been, her voice caught every time she had to state that fact out loud. “Seventeen months ago.” Not that she was counting the days—the hours—since the worst day of her life.

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. If she did this quickly, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. That was the theory, anyway. “I don’t know if you’d ever heard of him—David Bingham? We worked at a real estate agency up in Evanston.”

He turned and took a step toward her and for a second, she thought he was going to fold her into his arms and she was going to let him. But he pulled up short. “Sofia,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. How are you doing?”

That wasn’t small talk. That was an honest question from one of her oldest friends. God, she’d missed Eric.

It was so tempting to lie and smooth over the awkward moment with platitudes. Lord knew Eric was probably looking for an easy answer.