His Little Miracle: The Billionaire's Baby

He’d seen it when she’d unconsciously leaned towards him a few minutes ago, he saw it now as her tongue darted out to moisten her full bottom lip, the ache to do the same almost visceral.

She’d always done that cute little tongue thing when nervous, like the first time he’d taken her kayaking down Rainbow Creek, the first time she’d tried trail-bike riding, arms clutched around his waist and hanging on for dear life, the first time she’d tried oysters au naturel at his coaxing, the first time they’d made love…

The memories flickered across his mind in crystal-clear clarity, sending a shard of pain stabbing at his gut, filling him with bittersweet regret.

He’d walked away from the best thing to happen to him, and, while he might not have had a choice back then, he sure had one now, and there was no way he’d let her go again.

‘Not till we talk.’

Her chin tilted up in defiance as she snatched her hand out from under his and took a step back to distance herself from him. ‘I suppose you’re really not going to leave me alone till I agree?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Still as stubborn as ever,’ she muttered with a shake of her head.

‘Good to see you remember so many things about me.’

His gaze dropped to the espresso in front of him, extra-strong black, just the way he liked it.

She shrugged, but not before he’d seen an answering gleam as if she remembered plenty.

‘My mind has a habit of storing useless information. Don’t take it personally.’

‘I won’t.’

He grinned, noticing an immediate softening around her mouth. She wanted to smile back, he could tell. They’d always been like this: he trying to charm her, she trying her utmost to pretend it wasn’t working before giving in.

‘How about we have this chat over a death by chocolate next door after you lock up?’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘You like the Chocolate Toad?’

‘What’s not to like? Great chocolate and a big, happy, green guy looking down on us while we talk.’

He leaned forward and crooked his finger at her, pleased when she met him halfway. ‘You’re not the only one who remembers things, you know. I bet chocolate is still your staple food.’

Camryn couldn’t move.

She wanted to. Oh, yes, she wanted to run away as fast as her boots would carry her, far from this man and the power he had over her.

After all she’d been through, after the pain of losing him, she should turn around right this very minute and walk away without a backward glance.

So why was she standing here, mesmerised by the twinkle in his eyes, captivated by his sense of humour, with the word ‘yes’ hovering on her lips?

‘Come on. A girl deserves a good death by chocolate after a hard day’s work. And I really think it’s important you hear what I have to say.’

He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart, his clean, woodsy smell, as natural and outdoorsy as the rest of him, flooding her senses, tempting her to do crazy things as he had all those years ago. ‘You know you want to.’

‘Yes,’ she breathed on a sigh, caught by his powers of persuasion and something more, something scary and indefinable. A soul-deep attraction to a man who set off sparks by simply tilting his head in acknowledgement had made her lose her mind and accept his invitation when nothing he could say would make up for what he’d done to her six years earlier.

‘Great.’

He straightened, breaking the intimate spell woven around them. ‘In that case I better bolt this coffee down, finish up my business and wait for you to close up.’

Business! She snapped her fingers, wondering how she could have forgotten her proposed meeting with the project manager.

‘Actually, I’ve just remembered I’m meeting a project manager about some renovations I’m doing.’

‘Best in the building industry, so I’ve been told.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You obviously know Dirk and Mike, but I’m surprised the guys have been discussing my plans with you.’

His smile widened, his eyes twinkled, and her heart sank as realisation dawned.

‘Why wouldn’t they? I’m the best project manager around. Ask anybody.’

His reappearance must have really thrown her if she’d missed the connection between him turning up here, knowing the guys and her scheduled meeting. Talk about slow on the uptake, but, somehow, she didn’t care a toss about anything but how let down she felt.

He’d said he’d come here to see her but it was obviously for business reasons. And of course he’d have to mention their shared past, smooth the way if she were to hire him. She’d been such a fool. Again.

‘I know what you’re thinking, but don’t. Just for the record, I came here to see you, to talk to you. As for you needing a project manager, that was my trump card if you’d tried to boot me out the door the minute I set foot in here.’

There he went again, reading her so easily, and she quickly slid an impassive mask into place, knowing it was too late.

Okay, so he wasn’t just here on business, but that didn’t change facts: she’d loved him, he’d walked out on her, and there wasn’t one damn thing he could say to change that.

‘Come on, Cam. Catching up can’t hurt. And if I can help out with your renovations, all the better.’

She still had time to fob him off, to come to her senses, to give him some feeble excuse why she’d rather pick up a sledge hammer and bang the walls down herself than have him involved in her renovations.

But that was the coward’s way out, and if she’d learned anything since she’d arrived in Melbourne as a naïve nineteen-year-old ready to take on the world while mending a broken heart, it was to face things head on.

Besides, she needed the renovations completed sooner rather than later or she’d lose out on the chance at expansion into the apartment next to hers. She’d lived in what she affectionately termed her ‘shoebox’ since she’d opened the café, pouring all her funds into making the Niche great. But with the café doing better and the opportunity to enlarge her living space, she had to strike now. However, she’d been given the run around and time was running out.

She needed his skills asap, and, now he was here, she should at least hear what he had to say—regarding business only, that was.

With a resigned sigh, she glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll meet you next door in forty-five minutes,’ she said, half hoping he’d renege once he heard how long he’d have to wait. The other half of her was already doing a mental scrummage through her handbag for lipgloss, pressed powder compact, brush and hair serum, essentials she’d need to make herself halfway presentable for their date.

Date?

Business or otherwise, she’d agreed to go on a date.

With Blane Andrews, the guy who’d left her with a broken heart without a backward glance.

Was she nuts?

‘Forty-five minutes it is.’

He lifted his coffee cup towards her in a toasting action before strolling away, his even-paced strides achingly familiar. Blane in all his laid-back glory never hurried anywhere.