Millionaire in Command / The Bride Hunter: Millionaire in Command / The Bride Hunter

Kyle’s easy smile came back. “No problem, ladies. I think there’s another bench just past the palmetto tree wrapped in lights.”

“Thank you, Captain.” The woman flashed a smile back, “advertising” with a length of too-tanned leg through the gown’s excessive slit.

Phoebe watched them disappear faster than the after-waft of their cologne. She turned back to Kyle. “You don’t deny knowing Bianca?”

“This is getting strange here.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You need to cut to the chase…What was your name again?”

“Phoebe—” She paused as a uniformed waiter tucked into the alcove, stopped short and then spun back around to leave, apparently looking for a place to ditch work undetected for a few seconds.

Good luck with that, buddy, because apparently there wasn’t a quiet place to be found at this crammed-to-the-gills gala.

She hefted Nina’s limp—and growing heavier by the second—body higher onto her shoulder. Her sweet weight and baby-shampoo-fresh scent tugged at her heart with a reminder of just how important this meeting was to both of their futures. “Phoebe. My name is Phoebe Slater. Bianca and I were sorority sisters, but we’ve stayed in touch over the years.”

Although not as much as she would have liked during the past two months. She still could hardly believe Bianca would just drop off her baby daughter and not look back.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe,” he said, one eyebrow arching up with the implication his patience had about run dry.

Time was up. There wasn’t ever going to be the perfect setting for this kind of revelation. She resisted the urge to clutch the baby tighter and bolt. This wasn’t her child, but she loved her as dearly as if they shared the same blood. In fact, this would be her only chance at motherhood—however brief. When her husband she’d loved more than life had died, all hopes of being a mother had died with him.

No blue eyes would distract her from protecting Nina, no social brush-offs would dislodge her from her mission. She would do anything, anything to secure Nina’s future.

Phoebe braced her shoulders and her resolve to push forward with her plan, even if it meant making a deal with a blue-eyed devil. “Meet Nina, your daughter.”

Damn.

Another gold digger.

Party noise droning behind him like the buzz of aircraft engines, Kyle rocked back on his heels, his polished uniform shoes squeaking. He’d worked in intel during his Air Force career, but it didn’t take an investigative mind to determine something was way off with this woman.

The second he’d seen Phoebe Slater sidle past security, he had been gut-slammed by her appeal. He still couldn’t pull his eyes off her beacon-pale blond hair, clasped back simply, and her wide mouth that didn’t need lipstick or collagen to make it kiss-me sexy.

The kid had given him a moment’s pause, but his attention had shifted fast enough back to the totally hot female. He’d initially sized her up as a down-to-earth sort with unadorned appeal, a simple but intriguing woman. Not so simple after all, apparently.

Perhaps she wasn’t a gold digger. Maybe she was just a deluded psycho.

He tucked his fisted hands firmly behind him, glad now he’d chosen a locale that was only semiprivate, rather than totally secluded. “Ma’am, I’m certain we’ve never met before tonight, and I’m even more certain we’ve never slept together.” He would have definitely remembered her. “As cute as your kid is, she’s not mine.”

Phoebe Slater visibly bristled, her chocolate-brown eyes darkening. “She’s not my daughter. I’m just caring for her while her mother—Bianca Thompson—is away at an audition in Southern Florida. Bianca and I went to school together before she started pursuing her acting career, and I became a history professor. But that’s all beside the point.” Her throat moved in a long swallow. “I’m here because Nina needs her father. She’s five months old now.”

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

He had slept with Bianca Thompson, but he’d used protection—he always did. They hadn’t known each other well. It had been more of an impulsive hookup on both their parts, over a year ago, before he’d left for a year-long deployment to Afghanistan.

Just about the right timing.

His gaze snapped to the kid blinking groggily at him with light blue eyes just like his mother, brothers. Damn. Plenty of people had blue eyes, and plenty of people knew what his family looked like. And those same people would know about the Landis family’s hefty investment portfolio. His youngest brother had even had a false paternity suit filed against him by someone he’d actually cared about.

Kyle bit back a curse. He needed to stop this conversation now, until he could regroup with some more information on this woman. Preferably in a place where he didn’t have to worry about everyone from the press to the governor of South Carolina overhearing.

“Ma’am—”

“Slater. I am Phoebe Slater.” She rubbed soothing little circles between the baby’s shoulders, swaying back and forth like a pro.

Impressive. He knew from his brother and sister-in-law how tough it was to keep a little rug rat quiet at this age.

“Okay, Ms. Slater, let’s schedule a time for this conversation when we’re not trying to speak over a band and we’re certain not to be interrupted—”

“And this is Nina.” She angled sideways so the baby’s chubby-cheeked face was fully in view.

Cute kid. But that was irrelevant. “I don’t think this is the—”

“Her mother is Bianca Thompson.

She’d said that already, but hearing it again made him really look at the baby. She didn’t have Bianca’s red hair. The baby had dark brown hair. Like him. “Where is Bianca? Why am I talking to you instead of her?”

His suspicions mounted as he tried to put the pieces together before this blew up in a very public setting. His mother had gone to a lot of trouble putting together this shindig commemorating his homecoming. It meant a lot to her, since this also marked the end of his military commitment. In two weeks, he would start his new career as the head of the Landis Foundation’s international interests.

He didn’t want his family upset needlessly by a scene. Family was everything.

His eyes flicked uneasily back to the baby, looking too darn cute in her pink dress.

“I was only supposed to watch Nina until Bianca settled in at her new place in Southern Florida. Then weeks turned into months. When she stopped calling, I got worried and notified the police to file a missing person’s report. Which then brought child services into the picture, and if I don’t figure out something soon—” Phoebe’s chin quivered briefly before steadying again “—they’re going to put Nina into the foster care system.”

He wasn’t sure what she was up to anymore, but truth be told, even a conversation with a crazy woman was more engaging than the small talk he’d made tonight with people who were mostly here for the free food and a chance to rub elbows with politicians. Phoebe Slater was anything but boring.

“So you want me to take in this child, with no proof of who you are or who this kid is.”

“Just hear me out.” Her eyes turned a deeper shade of brown, panic glinting.

His instincts went on alert. If this woman was a crook—or a psycho—the kid could be in danger. That changed things entirely. “You know, maybe I should hold the baby after all, while we check into things.”

“You’re doubting me now, aren’t you? Smart man.”

She secured the sleeping baby and leaned to dig through the voluminous diaper bag on the bench. Good Lord, he could have stuffed all his military gear in that sack.

His eyes dropped to her hips, to the sweet curve of her bottom as she rifled past diapers and a bottle. Was she really a college professor? He’d certainly never had any profs that looked like her.

What a waste to have all that appeal packaged in a woman he couldn’t go anywhere near. She straightened and turned back to face him, drawing his eyes upward.

“Okay, Captain Landis, I thought you would want proof. And well you should.” She pulled out a file of papers. “I’ve got her birth certificate, photos and a notarized letter from Bianca stating I’m a babysitter for Nina, authorizing me to get medical attention for her. I even included a copy of my driver’s license.”

He took the file from her and flipped it open, angling so his shoulders blocked any passersby from possibly seeing the contents. He scanned the first page, with pictures of Bianca Thompson holding a baby with wide blue eyes.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled again. He turned to the next page and read through the birth certificate…

With his name in the “father” box.

He exhaled hard. True or not, he still needed a second to process seeing his name in that context. Not that he had anything against kids—he liked his nephew well enough. He’d just planned to leave perpetuating the Landis name to his brothers.