How to Bag a Billionaire

Adam gusted out a sigh. ‘Lady, if you think you can scam me into believing it’s me that’s not going to fly.’

For a start his unwanted intruder had to be in her mid-twenties, and he hadn’t dated an older woman in a very long time. But even if that weren’t the case Adam always made 100 per cent sure that pregnancy was an impossibility. One thing was certain in his life: he was not father material. After all, he was a Masterson through and through and he knew his own limitations. The less than stellar circumstances of his marriage had showcased his shortcomings all too brightly.

‘I’m not trying to scam anyone.’ Her hands twisted into the folds of her black dress. ‘The baby’s father is your father. Zebediah Masterson. And I need to find him.’

Long practice at the poker table kept his face neutral even as her words travelled towards him in slow motion, each one slamming into him with the force of a sucker punch.

Come on, Adam. Keep cool. This was nothing more than an über-clever scam, a fantastic concoction woven to get his attention.

‘Rubbish,’ he stated.

‘It’s not rubbish.’ One slim hand rose to jab the air in emphasis; her other hand still held the black dress up. ‘Or rocket science. It’s simple biology. My mum is pregnant and Zebediah is the father. So I need to find him.’

Moisture prickled his temple with foreboding before common sense reasserted itself. No way would Zeb want a replay of fatherhood. Plus, surely even Zeb would have bothered to get in touch over something like this?

‘I don’t think so,’ he said.

‘And I don’t think you get it. I need to find him because I need to tell him about the baby. He doesn’t know.’

For a treacherous second relief ran through his veins; if this preposterous tale was true at least Zeb hadn’t deliberately walked away from another unwanted baby. The way he’d walked out on Adam. Whoa. This wasn’t about the past; it was about the here and now and this no doubt mythical baby.

‘I see,’ he said, allowing scepticism to load each syllable. ‘How convenient for you.’

Hazel eyes narrowed. ‘There is nothing convenient about this. Have you any idea how difficult it is to locate your father? I’ve spent weeks looking for him and finally I discovered you. So if you could just tell me how to contact him I’ll be on my way.’

Was she serious? ‘Not happening.’

Brows just a shade darker than her hair arched. ‘Why not?

‘Because I don’t want you harassing my father with some trumped-up paternity suit.’

‘Trumped-up paternity suit?’ Her free hand clenched into a fist and he braced himself. ‘Why are you assuming it’s trumped-up? For—’

The buzz of his phone cut off whatever else she had been about to say. He pressed it his ear and Nate’s voice erupted.

‘What’s going on in there? Guests are arriving thick and fast and they are getting more and more curious.’

‘The intruder isn’t a threat.’ Or at least not to the guests; she was having a less than happy effect on him. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ Once he’d decided what to do about Little Miss Minx and her preposterous claim. In the meantime, with any luck, his guests’ curiosity might divert them from the billionaire-bagging hunt.

Dropping the phone back into his pocket, he studied her. Hmm... He drummed his fingers on his thigh as he went through the options, a glimmer of a possibility sparking.

‘You can’t just go,’ she said. ‘I need to know where to find your dad.’

‘No.’ Adam considered his idea from all angles. ‘Turn around.’

‘What?’ Bewilderment layered her voice

‘Turn around. I’ll zip the dress up for you.’ He tipped his palms into the air. ‘You’re going to the ball.’

It was the perfect solution. She remained where he could see her until he could disprove her story. And, as the icing on the cake, if he turned up to the ball with a beautiful woman on his arm he’d have a shield against all the other billionaire-baggers. Win-win. Adam made no effort to conceal the smirk that touched his lips.

There was a moment’s silence as her jaw dropped. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m not being ridiculous. You strike me as a loose cannon. So until I understand the situation you will stay glued to my side.’

The words triggered an unwanted reaction: the thought of how she had felt in his arms earlier made his fingers itch to pull her right back to him. Madness, and yet she was the epitome of allure. The expressive hazel eyes, the delicate elven features and luscious mouth combined to make her ludicrously kissable.

Throw in hair the colour of sunset and a body that showcased curves in all the right places and he was in trouble.

His fingers tingled. Hell. All of him tingled and any desire to smirk left him.

Great. His libido had decided to overlook the fact that this woman was an adversary, only here as a player in an elaborate scheme. Though unlike the other baggers it could be that her plan was to forgo the billionaire and aim straight for the money. Use Zeb to get to the cash. His expression hardened. No way was that happening—and she’d seriously underestimated him if she thought it was.

‘I have no intention of being glued to your side.’ Pushing herself off the sink, she glared at him. ‘And I am not coming to the ball. It doesn’t even make sense.’

‘It makes perfect sense to me. You could go to the press. You could disappear and resume your quest for Zeb. You know what? I have no idea what kooky scheme you may come up with.’

‘I wouldn’t go to the press! Why would I do that?’

‘Publicity? Money? Fun? I don’t know.’ Raking a hand through his hair, he stepped forward. ‘Why would you break into my hotel to gatecrash my party? It’s hardly the mark of a sane woman.’

‘It’s the mark of a desperate woman.’ Anger sparked the hazel of her eyes with green flecks. ‘Funnily enough breaking and entering wasn’t my number one choice. I tried to get hold of you by more conventional methods but your PA wouldn’t let me near you and you ignored my letters,’ she continued. ‘Presumably I fell into the probable billionaire-bagger category.’

‘Honey, you still fall into that category.’ And he’d better not forget it. Glancing at his watch, he muttered a curse. ‘We can discuss all this later. Right now you are coming with me.’

‘Says who? You can’t force me to go with you.’

‘Want to bet?’ Adam took another step forward. ‘Here’s your choice. You can put your shoes on and accept my kind invitation or I will call the police and have you charged with breaking and entering. Your call.’

Her whole body vibrated in sheer disbelief. ‘That’s blackmail!’

‘Breaking and entering is a criminal offence,’ he returned.

‘I had a good reason.’

‘So do I. So, prison or party? Your choice.’

Her lush lips pressed together as she stared at him before hitching slim shoulders. ‘Fine. I’ll come to the party. But you have to promise me that afterwards you will give me your father’s contact details.’

Unease solidified in his gut; there was no hint of insincerity in her voice. In fact if push came to shove he would swear she didn’t want to come to the party at all.

‘After the party we talk,’ he said. Given twenty minutes, he had no doubt he could rip her story to shreds.

‘Fine,’ she agreed, and reached round to tug at the zip on her dress once more.

‘Let me do that.’

For a moment he thought she’d refuse, but instead she gave another little shrug and spun around to place one palm flat on the marble counter, strawberry head bowed as though she didn’t wish to see his or her reflection in the mirror.