Billionaire's Jet Set Babies & The Nanny Bombshell: Billionaire's Jet Set Babies / The Nanny Bombshell

He stepped out onto the top floor, Javier going right as he went left.

The closer he came to the suite’s door, the louder the muffled sounds grew. Squealing babies. Damn. Was one of them hurt? He double-timed toward his room, whipped the key card through just as the door opened.

Alexa carried a baby on each hip—two freshly bathed and wet naked babies. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile wide. “I just caught them. Holy cow, they’ve got some speed for toddlers.”

He snagged a towel from the arm of the sofa and held it open. “Pass me one.”

She handed Owen over and Seth saw…

Her shirt was soaking wet, clinging to every perfect curve. Who would have thought Mary Poppins could rock the hell out of a wet T-shirt contest?

Chapter 3

Alexa plucked at her wet company shirt, conscious of the way it clung to her breasts. She didn’t need the heat in Seth’s eyes. She didn’t need the answering fire it stirred in her. They both had different goals for what remained of their twenty-four-hour deal. They were best served focusing on the children and work.

Turning away, she hitched Olivia up on her hip and snagged the other towel from where she’d dropped it on the sofa to chase the racing duo around the suite. “You’re back early from your dinner meeting.”

“You need some clothes.” The sound of his confident footsteps sounded softly behind her on plush carpet.

“Dry ones, for sure.” She glanced through to the bathroom. Towels were draped on the floor around the circular tub, soaking up all the splashes. “I let the babies use the Jacuzzi like a kiddie pool. A few plastic cups and they were happy to play. Supper should be arriving soon. I thought you were room service when I heard you at the door.”

“They’ll need cleaning up again after supper.” He tugged out two diapers and two T-shirts from the diaper bag.

“Then I’ll just order more towels.” She plucked the tiny pink T-shirt from his hand and busied herself with dressing Olivia to keep from noticing how at ease he was handling his squirming son.

“Fair enough.” He pressed the diaper tapes in place, his large masculine hands surprisingly nimble.

“Did your meeting go well?” She wrestled a tiny waving arm through the sleeve.

“We didn’t get through more than half a drink. He had to postpone until the morning.” A quick tug later, he had Owen’s powder-blue shirt in place. He hoisted his son in the air and buzzed his belly before setting him on his feet. “I’ll just call room service and add my order to the rest.”

He wasn’t going back to work? They would be spending the rest of the evening here. Together with the children, of course. And after the toddlers drifted off? He’d mentioned Pippa kept them up late. With luck the pint-size chaperones would burn the midnight oil.

“Too bad your dinner companion couldn’t have told you about the delay before you left Charleston. You would have had time to make other arrangements for the children.” And she would have been at home in her lonely apartment eating ice cream while thinking about encountering Seth on his plane. Because without question, he was a memorable man.

“I’m glad to have the time with them. I assume you can arrange to stay longer?”

“I’ll call my partner back as soon as the kids are asleep. She and I will make it work.”

“Excellent. Now we just need to arrange extra clothes and toiletries for you.” He reached for the room phone as Olivia and Owen chased each other in circles around their father. “When I order my supper I’ll also have the concierge pick up something for you to change int—”

“Really, no need.” She held up a hand, an unsettling tingle tripping up her spine at the thought of wearing things purchased by him. “I’ll wear the hotel robe tonight and we can have the hotel wash my clothes. The kids and I will kill time tomorrow browsing around downtown, shopping while you finish your meeting. You do have a double stroller, don’t you?”

“Already arranged. But you are going to need a change of clothing sooner than that.” The furrows in his brow warned her a second before he said, “My business prospect wants to have breakfast with the kids and there’s not a chance in hell I can carry that off on my own. It’s my fault you’re here without a change of clothes.”

A business breakfast? With two toddlers? Whose genius idea was that? But she held her silence and conceded to the need for something appropriate to wear.

She stifled a twinge of nerves at discussing her clothing size. She was past those days of stepping on the scales every morning for her mom to check—what a hell of a way to spend “mother-daughter” time. And thank God, she was past the days of starving herself into a size zero.

Size zero. There’d been an irony in that, as if she could somehow fade away…

Blinking the past back, she said, “Okay then, tell them to buy smalls or eights, and my shoes are size seven.”

His green eyes glimmered wickedly. “And underwear measurements?”

She poked him in the chest with one finger. “Not on your life am I answering that one.” God, his chest was solid. She stepped away. “Make sure to keep a tally of how much everything costs. I insist on reimbursing you.”

“Unnecessarily prideful, but as you wish.” He said it so arrogantly she wanted to thump him on the back of his head.

Not a wise business move, though, touching him again. One little tap had nearly seared her fingertip and her mind. “I pay my own way now.”

“At least let me loan you a T-shirt to sleep in tonight rather than that stifling hotel robe.”

His clothes against her naked flesh?

Whoa.

Shaking off the goose bumps, she followed the toddling twins into the master bedroom. The rumble of his voice followed her as Seth ordered his meal, her clothing and some other toiletries…

Olivia and Owen sprinted to check out the matching portable cribs that had been set up on the far side of the king-size bed, each neatly made. Everything had been provided to accommodate a family. A real family. Except she would crawl under her own covers all alone wearing a hot guy’s T-shirt.

Alexa wrapped her arms around her stomach, reminded of the life she’d been denied with the implosion of her marriage. A life she purposefully hadn’t thought about in a year since she’d craved a real family more than her next breath. Being thrust into this situation with Seth stirred longings she’d ignored for too long. Damn it, she’d taken this gamble for her company, her employees, her future.

But in doing so, she hadn’t realized how deeply playing at this family game could cut into her heart.

* * *

Playing pretend family was kicking his ass.

Seth forked up the last bite of his Chilean sea bass while Alexa started her warm peach bread pudding with lavender cream. They’d opted to feed the babies first and put them to bed so the adults could actually dine in peace out on the turret balcony. Their supper had been set up by the wrought-iron table for two, complete with a lone rose in the middle of the table. Historical sconces on either side of the open doors cast a candlelit glow over the table.

Classical music drifted softly from inside. Okay, so it was actually something called “The Mozart Effect—Music for Babies,” and he used it to help soothe Olivia and Owen to sleep. But it still qualified as mood-setting music for grown-ups.

And holy crap, did Alexa ever qualify as a smoking hot adult.

She’d changed into one of his T-shirts with the fluffy hotel robe over it. She looked as if she’d just rolled out of his bed. An ocean breeze lifted her whispery blond hair as late evening street noises echoed softly from the street below. Tonight had been the closest he’d come to experiencing family life with his children.

He hadn’t dated much since his divorce and when he had, he’d been careful to keep that world separate from his kids. Working side by side with Alexa had more than cut the tasks in half tonight. That made him angry all over again that he’d screwed up so badly in his own marriage. He and Pippa had known it was a long shot going in, but they’d both wanted to give it a chance, for the babies. Or at least that’s what he’d thought, until he’d discovered Pippa wasn’t even sure if he was the biological father.

His gut twisted.

Damn it all, Olivia and Owen were his children. His name was on their birth certificate. And he refused to let anyone take them from him. Pippa vowed she wasn’t going to challenge the custody agreement, but she’d lied to him before, and in such a major way, he had trouble trusting her.

He studied the woman across from him, wishing he could read her thoughts better, but she held herself in such tight control at all times. Sure, he knew he couldn’t judge all females by how things had shaken down between him and Pippa. But it definitely made him wary. Fool him once, shame on her. Fool him twice. Shame on him.

Alexa Randall was here for one reason only. To use him to jump-start her business. She wasn’t in St. Augustine to play house. She didn’t know, much less love, his kids. She was doing a job. Everybody in this world had an agenda. As long as he kept that knowledge forefront in his mind, they would be fine.

He reached for his seltzer water. “You’re good with kids.”