A Baby For The Billionaire: Triple the Fun / What the Prince Wants / The Blackstone Heir

“Admit it, Dina. You’re in the water, holding onto a lead ball and trying to kick your way to the surface.”

“Could you please stop interrupting me?”

“Admit it,” he urged again. “At this rate, you will never reach your goal of opening a restaurant. Hell, you’ll be lucky if you can keep the catering going through the rest of the year. And once it fails completely? Then what? What’s your backup plan? Or do you even have one?”

Con watched her and saw in her eyes that she couldn’t argue with him, but that she was going to give it a try anyway.

“These children will never suffer.” She swore it, meeting his eyes, willing him to believe her. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do, they will never go without.”

“I know they won’t,” he said quietly and set small plastic bowls of sliced bananas onto the triplets’ food trays. Connor waited until she turned to face him. When he had her complete attention, he said, “I’ll give you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to sign over custody of the kids to me. Right now. Today.”

He saw confusion obliterated by fury in her dark eyes an instant before she exploded in a wild burst of rage. “You would dare to offer me money? You think you can buy me? That I would sell my family?”

She stood up slowly, as if every bone ached. The babies watched her with curiosity. They didn’t cry, because even in her anger, Dina kept her voice a hushed whisper that somehow made her temper sound even more volatile than if she’d been shouting.

“Do it and open that restaurant you want so badly. Build your dreams. I’m offering you a way out of the financial hole you’re sliding into.”

“Build my dreams by selling the babies? Do you really think so little of me?”

“Not at all,” he countered smoothly, refusing to match her temper. “I think you’re smart, clever and wise enough to recognize a real opportunity when it presents itself.”

She choked out a laugh. “You think I want your money?”

He shrugged. “You’re the one who sued me for child support.”

“For them,” she snapped. “Not for me. My God, you’re incredible. Because I asked for child support you believe that means I’d be willing to be bought off?”

He shrugged, not letting her see that he was pleased at her reaction, if surprised. Not many people would have turned down a quarter of a million dollars without at least thinking about it first.

“You rich guys are all alike. The world runs on money. Well, maybe in your universe, but not here in reality. I want nothing from you. I make my own way and I always have. My business is exactly that—my business.”

“Your business,” he argued as he slowly pushed himself to his feet to face her across the kitchen table, “became mine when you became the guardian of my children.”

He’d let her rant and rage, but she was going to understand this if he had to repeat himself ten times a day. “Those kids are what concern me. My children. Not yours.”

She snorted. “You were the sperm donor. You’re not a father.”

Everything in him went still. Her words, practically spat at him, hung in the air between them like an ugly smear. “You don’t get to say that to me,” he said, his voice low and hard. “You know what Jackie and your sister did to me. You know the truth.”

She gritted her teeth, pulling in a breath with a soft hiss. “Fine. You’re right. About that. I shouldn’t have said it. But you’re not right about everything else. I don’t want anything from you, Connor.”

“Then you’re the first woman I’ve ever met who didn’t have an agenda. What’re the odds on that?”

“What are you talking about?” Anger shifted to confusion.

“Every woman I’ve ever known has tried to use me—my name, my money, my family.” His ego took a slight beating at the admission, but he was going to let her know from the jump just who was in charge here. “You think you’ve got issues with rich guys? Well, how would you like it if everyone you’ve ever known approached you with their hand out at one point or another? Jackie,” he continued, “was the only woman who didn’t try to use me in some way.” A hard lump settled in his throat as he admitted tightly, “And in the end, she—and your sister—used me, too.”

He hadn’t meant to go that deeply into his own life. This was about Dina, the failing business she depended on and the welfare of the triplets.

It was a second or two before she spoke again. “Well, I’m not them.”

“Yeah, you turned down the money. That’s something. But,” he added, tipping his head to one side as he studied her, “maybe you’re just holding out for more.” He didn’t really believe that, but he felt a small slice of satisfaction when her eyes narrowed.

“I think you should go.”

“Not gonna happen,” Con told her. He glanced at the babies, who were now staring at the two of them with tiny worried frowns creasing each of their faces. Deliberately, Connor dialed back on the anger churning inside him. He wasn’t going to traumatize his kids. “I’ll tell you what is going to happen, though. You and the triplets are moving to my house. Starting today.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope. Dead serious.” He planted both hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I’m not going to disappear from my kids’ lives. I’m not going to be the last one you think of when you need backup to take care of them. And most importantly, I’m not going to try to sleep on that torture rack you call a couch again.”

“You can’t just decide something like this and expect me to go along—”

“Did you or did you not just say that the babies would always be taken care of no matter what you had to do?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “But I didn’t mean this.”

He held up one hand for silence, and damned if he didn’t get it. Con figured she was too surprised to argue. “Your house is too small for all of us and you know it.”

“You weren’t invited to stay,” she pointed out.

“I’m their father. They stay with me.”

“I’m their guardian. They stay with me.”

“There you go,” he said. “Neither one of us is going to give on this, so my solution works best.”

“Because you say so.”

“Because your whole house is the size of my closet.” He pushed off the table and folded his arms across his chest. “You won’t be bought off—which I admire, by the way.”

“Wow.” She tipped her head to one side and gave him a look that should have set fire to his hair. “Thanks.”

He ignored the sarcasm. “You want the kids. So do I. The answer is, we both stay with them. We can’t do that here, so my house is the logical move.”

“Logical. That’s all this is about?”

“What else?”

“And this new living situation,” she said. “How would it affect us?”

“You’re talking about the kiss last night?”

“No, I’m talking about what you might expect after the kiss last night.”

A little insulted at the notion that he would maneuver her and the kids to his house as a way of forcing her into his bed, Connor frowned at her. “Relax. You’ll have your own suite. I don’t need to trick women into my bed. Or force them. They come willingly enough.”

If she gritted her teeth any harder, her jaw might snap.