Bound by the Billionaire's Baby

‘Oh.’

And tonight for a while he had been caught up in the novelty of someone who didn’t have a great deal to say on the state of the world, but he wasn’t so caught up that he was going to wade through her sudden attack of nerves and hold her hand because she was suddenly feeling panicky.

He was a sophisticated man who liked sophisticated ladies but he had been willing to step out of the box for a brief session with her.

‘I’d better be on my way, then.’ She stood up, not looking at him. ‘And I’m sorry. You know... I guess it’s not really on... Well, it’s really not on to lead a guy on. Which I wasn’t doing. Actually. Because when I agreed to come here with you I thought... Well, I guess it’s just not like me to have a one-night stand.’ She frowned. ‘In fact I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life before and I’ve never been tempted to. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was just...walking in there and seeing Colonel Mustard at the bar... I wouldn’t have approached you otherwise, you know...’

Sergio raised one hand to halt the stream of introspective conversation.

‘I’m getting the picture,’ he said wryly.

He ushered her out of the kitchen. He was doing the right thing. He would deal with his unwanted arousal later. In the shower. Turned to cold. That should do the trick.

‘Just out of interest,’ he drawled, once they were in the hall. ‘if you’re not the kind of girl who goes in for exciting, racy one-night stands, why the hell did you agree to this in the first place?’

He leaned against the wall and watched as she took her time fumbling with the black coat, belting it around her waist before raising her eyes to meet his.

‘I don’t know,’ Susie admitted. ‘I...I fancied you...’ She went bright red and her eyes skittered away.

And that, Sergio thought, was how a guy could get insanely turned on. She could barely meet his eyes. She sounded as though the admission had been dragged out of her.

What kind of a guy would he be if he let her go away with nothing?

He moved forward, cupped his big hand behind the nape of her neck and saw her eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and hot excitement.

In that split instant he knew that he could have her if he wanted. He had never wanted anything so much in his life before, but was he going to have her? No. He would stick to what he knew. Safer that way. A controlled life was a life with no nasty surprises.

His mouth hovered tantalisingly close to hers and she whimpered and linked her hands around his waist. She was so wet! She eased the ache by widening her stance a little, when all she wanted was for him to put his hand there and rub away the discomfort, give her some release.

Sergio breathed in her scent, light and floral and clean.

With a groan, he lowered his head and forgot...everything. Her lips parted readily...her tongue flicked to meet his. He was barely aware of propelling her backwards, so that she was pressed against the wall and he was pressed against her. He moved against her, wanting nothing more than to rip off the black cape and hoist up the flimsy nothing of a dress. He wanted to yank her panties down and just take her...right here in the hallway...up against the wall...with her legs wrapped around him...

It took a few dazed seconds for her eyes to flutter open as he tore himself away and stood back.

‘Why have you stopped?’ Her nerves had gone, banished under the impact of that kiss. She hated the cooling distance he was putting between them and the fact that the bedroom beyond that short flight of stairs was no longer too scarily close for comfort.

‘It’s no good.’ Hot blood was still pumping thick and hard in his veins. ‘You’re not my type.’

He should never have made a move on her—never invited her back here. But he was just so damned accustomed to having exactly what he wanted, to taking exactly what he wanted.

He clenched his jaw as he saw her hurt expression and told himself that this was just the sort of episode that would make her stronger. Get her off the internet for a start.

‘You’re either a gold-digger,’ he said coolly, ‘or a naive kid—and I’m not interested in either.’

‘I’m not experienced enough for you...or clever enough...’

‘Don’t put words into my mouth. I’m telling it like it is—and here’s something else... If I were you I’d think twice about trying to find your soul mate on the internet. It’s a dangerous place out there...’

But not as dangerous as the inside of an exclusive restaurant in the city...

Susie knew that she shouldn’t care. Okay, so she might go away with her pride slightly dented, but he had probably done the right thing.

She drew herself up and returned his cool look with an equally cool one of her own. ‘Thanks for the advice. And if you’re glad you didn’t end up in bed with me because I’m not your type, then I’m just as glad that I didn’t end up in bed with you because you’re not my type.’

She forced herself to smile...the casual, dismissive smile of one adult to another.

‘And I’m not as naive as you think I am,’ she lied, tossing her head. ‘In fact I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and of having a one-night stand, if I ever want one!’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Car’s outside, Susie...it’s been a...a highly unusual encounter...’

God, just his voice was enough to send shivers racing up and down her spine.

She held out her hand in response and pinned a smile on her face as he reached to pull open the front door. ‘Thanks for dinner. And I hope you find the businesswoman of your dreams. I’ll keep looking for the fun guy of my dreams...’

And she dashed out of the open door, back down in that glass lift and slap-bang outside into his chauffeur driven car. She dived in, slamming the door after her and making sure she didn’t glance back as she was driven away.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4a686fad-4306-5a0d-837a-9fc2b292cb39)

SERGIO HAD SEEN the curiosity in the florist’s eyes when he had placed his order. One hundred roses in five different colours. He could almost see the question taking shape at the back of her mind... Who’s the lucky girl?

Stanley, his driver, was a lot more forthcoming than the florist.

‘Who’s the lucky girl?’

Sergio caught his driver’s eye in the rear-view mirror and thought about ignoring the question.

The roses had been carefully placed in the boot, all neatly wrapped in cellophane with straw bows, their cut stems nestling in little bags of water.

‘The “lucky girl” is the one you dropped home the week before last—not that it’s any of your business, Stanley. In case you’ve forgotten the contents of your How to Be a Good Chauffeur manual, it’s not your place to ask questions about matters that don’t concern you.’

‘Ah. You must be keen. The flowers usually only get pulled out at the end of one of your little flings, sir, and even so...never roses...and never that many!’

‘Just drive, Stanley.’

‘Nice little thing, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘I’m about to make an important call, and as a matter of fact I do mind.’

‘You’ll need to be careful with that one, sir.’

Sergio gave up. He had employed Stanley for over ten years—rescued him from an inner city project that aimed to rehabilitate petty criminals and chronically out of work men back into the community by training them up in stable jobs.

It was one of the many charities sponsored by Sergio’s vast conglomerate of companies.

Some of the lads went into manual labour. Working in garden centres, building sites, in restaurants... Stanley, aged twenty-eight now, once an expert car thief, had come to work for him, and their relationship had prospered against all odds.

Stanley was irreverent, outspoken, unimpressed by Sergio’s trappings of wealth, and eternally grateful to have been rescued from a life of bouncing in and out of prison. He was a good lad gone bad, thanks to circumstances, and had been waiting for someone just like Sergio to get him back on the right track.