Designs on the Billionaire

by Meg MacRose

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  Nick’s escapes to Lacey’s home were reminiscent of his boarding school days, when the more courageous students climbed out their window or faked letters from their parents in order to get weekend passes off the premises.

  Apart from a handful of people, no-one else knew that for the last three Fridays, he had been driven out of London and stayed the weekend with Lacey and Therese. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about them. But he did want to shelter them from any malicious gossip or unnecessary paparazzi. His engagement with Diana had put him in the media spotlight, which he had hated. There was no way that he’d ever want to put his daughter through that ridicule and exposure.

  Monday mornings when he walked through the glass turnstiles at the office, his weekend adventures with Therese and Lacey seemed like a dream. It was his weekend secret. Which in a way was kinda nice. There was no-one to add a toxic spin on things—a real threat since Diana and his Mother still held grudges against him. But part of him wanted to jump up and down and explain to anyone who would listen that his life had just been revolutionised. You’d think that as a ladies’ man who liked to party, which he knew was a justifiable description, that he’d run a hundred miles from some random girl telling him he was a biological father.

  He had a daughter, and she was his. The thought still excited him. There was no doubt about it. She had the Silverton jut of the chin and high cheek bones. Every weekend, the affection he held for Therese increased so much that he thought he would burst. She was a little dynamite.

  Instead of attending the variety of invitations that had come his way for the weekend, which if his memory served him right, had included the opening of an art gallery, a fortieth birthday party at some exclusive restaurant and hitting the London night scene, he had been playing ponies on the floor with a five-year-old. And he’d loved every minute of it. He wondered how he’d survived for so long engaging in a hectic London scene with whoever happened to hang off his arm at the time, instead of taking the time to just stop and chill out … or play with ponies!

  He checked that his phone was in his pocket. That phone was his connection to his little girl. Every night since his first visit, they talked on the phone. And the photos that he had amassed in such a short period of time? Now he knew how people ran out of storage space on their personal devices. He was probably nearly at the point now. He was so proud of his daughter and couldn’t wait to get to his office to scroll through the photos that he’d taken of her one more time before he got on with work. It was almost an anticlimax coming in to work on a Monday. He lived for Fridays when he counted the hours until they were together again.

  It wasn’t just Therese who he looked forward to seeing. Her youthful looking whose smiling face captivated him too. She’d been more than generous bunking down with Therese so that he could stay over in her room. Only, he didn’t get much sleep in her bed. There were too many fantasies that swirled around his head every time he closed his eyes. Her pillows were drenched with the floral scent that he now knew was synonymous with Lacey.

  The more he saw of her cute behind, the more he wanted to wrap his arms around her and nuzzle her neck. Just as well she hadn’t worn her leathers since he’d been going around there. There was no way he’d be able to hide his attraction to her with those skin-tight leather pants and jacket on.

  Steady on, he told himself. He looked around the bustling office. Nobody took any notice of him. He was just another soul who looked occupied as they went about their business.

  Unlike most of the women he had dated over the years, Lacey didn’t flirt with him or try and seduce him at any opportunity. She was truly gracious in that she only had Therese’s best interests at heart. And so, did he. But the sense of frustration that mingled with his anticipation at returning to her home had started to infiltrate his everyday thoughts.

  Four weeks into his new relationship with Therese, Nick watched the clock all Friday afternoon. He only had to drop a stack of papers off with his PA, and then he’d be ready to go. As he entered her office, a huge bouquet of bright blooming flowers sat on her desk.

  “They’re beautiful, Marian,” Nick exclaimed. He meant it too. The flowers looked amazing.

  “Thanks, Nick. They’re for my Mum. I’m visiting her at the nursing home straight after work.”

  “Do you mind me asking where you bought them from? I think I might get a bunch myself.”

  “Oh? Dare I ask if Diana is back in the picture then?”

  “Diana is not back in the picture. And you didn’t answer my question. Where did you buy them from?”

  “There’s a florist down a laneway not three blocks from here. I can ring him up and order some for you if you want. He had these ones already to go in big baskets at the front of his shop.”

  “Would you mind Marian? That would be great. Can you order one just like you have, and an identical one but much smaller?”

  The curiosity shone through Marian’s eyes.

  “I’ll do that right away. I can get Carl to pick the flowers up before he picks you up this afternoon.”

  “Excellent. Thanks for that.”

  “Ummm, Nick? I should tell you that the gossip lines in and out of the office are currently very busy.” Nick could see the concern in the older woman’s eyes.

  “Tell me what people are saying Marian. What are you not saying?” Nick was on guard. It was important that he protected Therese and Lacey from any unnecessary exposure.

  “Well, there are some who are saying that you broke up with Diana because you found out that you have a love-child with a woman less fortunate than yourself.”

  “A love-child? What on earth does that even mean? I broke up with Diana because I realised that our values were not aligned whatsoever. Not that I mean to feed any gossip. And everything else is private. That’s the way it should remain.” Nick was concerned. He trusted the few other people he had told about Therese. Was it only speculation or did someone else know something more?

  “Understood, Nick. I’d never divulge your private information anyway. But I thought you should know what was being said. You might want to have a chat with your Father. I think the gossip is bothering him. Especially with the grief that your Mother is still giving him.”

  Nick raised a single eyebrow at Marian’s comment. The first thought that came through his head was how did she know his Mother had given his Father grief? His father had always been a private kind of fellow.

  “Your Dad had his phone on speaker when her call came through. I had just taken a cuppa tea and some biscuits in for his morning tea. You know how he likes his routine. I couldn’t help but overhear. The gossip that I’m hearing in the tearooms here is consistent with the grief that your Father received from your Mother earlier today. Only, I suspect that she still wants you to reunite and apologise to Diana.”

  “Thanks Marian. I’ll chat with Dad next week. He’ll have already left today to play golf. I’m sure he’s used to getting grief from my Mother. It is what she does best sometimes.”

  For the briefest of moments, he considered calling his Mother up and explaining the situation.

  Don’t be silly, he chided himself. He was an adult, and as such, was entitled to make his own decisions about his life. He didn’t need to ask permission or apologise to Mother. Besides, he was really looking forward to the weekend, and he was sure that any discussion with his Mother would leave a foul taste in his mouth. If she was still harping on about wedding Diana, then she wouldn’t be prepared to listen to anything he had to say.

  Twenty minutes later his phone beeped with a message from Carl, letting him know the flowers had been picked up and the car would be outside in five minutes. Where had the time gone? Had he truly been staring into the rain for nearly half an hour? It wasn’t like London didn’t get a lot of rain.

  It was still a lot to take in though. The responsibility he acknowledged that came with being a father. He couldn’t just go and shag who he wanted anymore. He had a l
ittle girl looking up to him as a role-model. He had to show her the values that he hoped she’d have as an adult. And for sure, he didn’t want little Therese being obsessed with social status or money. That was one definite plus for Lacey. She didn’t come from his world where acceptable breeding, class status, level of wealth and appearances mattered more than actual friendship. Although Lacey hadn’t spoken of her own childhood, her own home was comfortable yet humble. Therese didn’t own a whole heap of unwanted toys. Lacey wasn’t interested in getting money from him, in fact she’d declined his offer of back pay for child support. She had been quite indignant, her eyes flaring as she had declared that it was both unnecessary and unwanted.

  He hadn’t meant to insult her, but he hadn’t brought it up since. He had, however, set up a substantial trust fund for Therese. But Lacey didn’t need to know that. He could always set up a similar account for Lacey, under the guise of housekeeping or the like.

  Chapter 8

  Lacey was curled up on the sofa. The rain poured down outside. Therese had gone to sleep ages ago. She’d tried to wait up for Nick, but her little body was tired after a week of school.

  Nick had texted through about three hours ago that they were stuck in traffic leaving London. A wet Friday night, there only had to be an accident and the traffic could be backed up for hours. She’d been listening out with one ear for his car. The rain had been persistent and gushed down from the sky with unrelenting pressure.

  She should go and bunk down with Therese in her bed. She’d already told him that the front door would be left unlocked.

  The loud pitter patter as the raindrops fell on her tin roof was both hypnotising and relaxing. She quite enjoyed lying on the sofa listening to it. She’d poured herself a red wine earlier but hadn’t really touched it. It was a good one too, Australian, and not one of the cheap and nasty five-pound ones she often bought herself. She was dressed in her superhero shorty pyjamas that Therese had bought for her last birthday. Not the best welcome for Nick. Not that he’d be worried. She’d paraded around in a variety of cotton nightclothes, mainly presents from Therese, and he’d never even blinked an eyelid. He was probably used to his glamourous women in feminine and soft satin or silk nightdresses, not the comfortable cotton pjs that she preferred.

  After another half hour of waiting, Lacey drifted off to sleep.

  “Oh,” Lacey said, sitting up in alarm. She reached up and wiped a large drop of cold water from her forehead.

  “Sorry about that,” Nick said. “You were fast asleep. I was just leaning over to put a blanket on you, but the water from my hair dripped onto your face. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Oh no. That’s okay. I was waiting up for you. The rain was too loud to sleep. Only I did, didn’t I? Sleep I mean. Gosh look at you. You look like something the cat dragged in.”

  Nick looked, well he looked wet. His clothes and hair were plastered down and a puddle of water sat at his feet.

  “Sorry about that. Carl dropped me off, and I didn’t think I’d get this wet just running from the road to your door. Remind me next time to grab a brolly.”

  “Here let me get you a towel. You’re dripping everywhere.”

  Lacey sat up; her glass of wine totally forgotten until the sensation of something else wet on her foot.

  “Drat. I forgot I put my wine down. I’ll get your towels and then clean up the mess.”

  “How about you get the towels and I pour us both a glass?”

  “You should change first,” Lacey said. “You can’t be comfortable in those wet clothes.” Lacey hurried back to her linen closet, closing it softly so as not to wake Therese, then headed back to the living room. “Here you go. Grab what you need.” Lacey dumped a small pile of freshly laundered towels into Nick’s arms while she grabbed an older towel that had been destined for the rag basket. “Now to see whether or not I can soak up before the floorboards get stained.”

  Nick carried his bag, and the towels back to the bedroom. “Do you have a couple of vases? I’ve come armed with flowers.” He called through the open door.

  “Oh, you didn’t need to do that. What’s the occasion? Surely not because you were running late? Friday night traffic out of London is hardly your fault!”

  Lacey’s insides turned to mush as Nick stuck his head around the door. His mouth turned from a grimace to a smile. “Actually, I got them before we left London. So, no occasion. There should be a bunch for you and a bunch for Therese.”

  “That’s very kind of you. Oh, they’re beautiful.” Lacey held up the largest bunch and hid her head in the blooms. She didn’t know how to handle situations like this. Part of her wanted to swoon with delight, and yet she didn’t dare step down from her resolve to keep some distance between the two of them. She could hear the low sounds of Nick getting dressed or undressed in her room. It was better that she kept herself busied than acting like an infatuated teenager. She occupied herself with pouring them both a glass of wine and arranging the flowers in two glass jars. The brightness of the flowers livened up the room. Despite trying to keep busy, she sensed the moment he came out of her bedroom and instinctively her head shot up. He emerged wearing a plain white cotton shirt and grey cotton shorts. His thighs were strong and manly. Lacey tried to avert her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from gawping.

  His gazed scanned the room and fixed on Therese’s closed bedroom door. “She was asleep hours ago I guess.”

  “Yeah. She tried to stay awake. I’m sure she’ll wake you up early on the morning though.”

  Lacey took a quick sip of her wine. Nick’s face lit up at the prospect of their little girl waking him up early made the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

  “Are you hungry? I can heat up some leftovers or make an omelette?” Lacey asked politely as she passed Nick’s glass to him.

  “No, that’s fine. We picked up some sushi from one of those twenty-four-hour places on the road.”

  Nick plonked his tall frame onto the sofa that she’d used as a bed just half an hour earlier.

  “Come and join me. We don’t get many opportunities to just talk.” He patted the space next to him. Without being rude, she couldn’t not accept.

  “How about we toast to a great weekend ahead?”

  “Ummm. Yeah sure.” She wasn’t too certain what to make of this conversation. They didn’t have anything planned this weekend. It was just a typical weekend hanging at home. She took a large gulp of wine. Not that she needed the extra assurance with Nick next to her on the seat, she tried to convince herself.

  “Hey. It’s not that bad.” Nick leaned forward and placed the ball of his thumb on her bottom lip and massaged it in soft and soothing circles. She hadn’t even realised that she was biting her lip. A sigh escaped from her lips. There was something agreeable having him show concern and touching her in such a decent and yet very sensual way.

  She watched him from under her eyelids. He raised his glass in his other hand and took a swig of wine. The pupils in his eyes dilated, and his scrutiny didn’t leave her face. His thumb didn’t stop the gentle orbit of her lip. Not a word was said between them.

  “Lacey. Tell me you feel it too? The chemistry between us?” The timbre in his voice was low and lulling.

  Her body shivered with anticipation and every nerve screamed out to say yes yes yes. His mere presence made her sizzle and spark. And his touch was simply melting her. But she willed herself to stay immobile and said nothing.

  “Lacey. Tell me if you want me to stop. I will if you don’t want this. But I think you do. I think we both do.”

  His thumb released its pressure on her lip, and he cradled her cheek in the palm of one hand. All the while, his eyes didn’t leave hers. Nick took another mouthful of his wine, and leaning forward he kissed her lips, teasing them open. The taste of wine on his lips was intoxicating, and Lacey knew that right now she was at a point of no return. It was like he was her addiction, and she had to be fed her next hit.

  The urg
ency in his kiss matched her own. His tongue reached down and tried to dominate her own, but she stepped up to the challenge accordingly. Lacey was gratified when he grunted an animal sound that indicated just how affected he was by her, as she was by him. The realisation that they were both setting each other on fire turned Lacey into a fervour of flames, and her spare hand came up to tug the short hair at the nape of his neck and haul him closer to her.

  Nick pushed back from her.

  In silence she screamed, What? You can’t stop now. Annoyance and hurt filled her. She was still dazed by their kiss to give any adequate response.

  His hand came out and caressed her cheek. “Just for a moment. I think we’d better dispose of these.” His darkened eyes pointed to the still half full glasses of wine that had managed to survive. He leant across and grabbed Lacey’s wine out of her hand and left both glasses safe on the table.

  Lacey was entranced by the view of the man in front of her. He was stunning and, for now, at least, he was hers. She told herself not to look beyond that. Don’t complicate matters.

  “Oh Lacey.” She didn’t hear him say her name as much as she felt the vibration that was emitted as he exhaled her name. She shuddered and her heart thumped like a storm brewing in her chest, as both of his hands framed her face. In unison they stepped up together as his mouth came down again, stealing her own mouth into his own.

  She tugged and pulled at his t-shirt, scratching her fingernails down his toned back. The muscles in his back twitched and flexed as her hands groped and delved.