The Billionaire’s Promise (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance)

by Ivy Layne

  Vance would have found another gallery, but he liked Rupert and didn't want to explain his reasons if he fired Sloane. Besides, she was rude, annoying, and regularly sexually harassed him, but she was very good at selling art. Vance didn't have the patience to take over promoting his work, so he stuck with Sloane, ignoring her rudeness and dodging her come-ons.

  "Where are the brochures?" she demanded. "They need to go to the printer this afternoon."

  "I'm aware of that, Sloane," I said with a sigh. "They're almost done. I'll have them this afternoon, or at the worst, tomorrow morning. You're just going to have to be patient."

  "I don't do patient, Maggie. You know that. Get me the brochures, or I'll have to come over there. Put Vance on the phone."

  "Vance is in his studio, Sloane."

  "He'd better be finishing that piece."

  "He is. He said it would be done by tomorrow."

  "It was supposed to be done two weeks ago," she grumbled. She wasn't wrong, but Vance didn't care. Neither did I. Not really. This wasn't our first show, and this wasn't the first time I'd been caught between the two of them—Sloane with her schedule and Vance determined to get the work right.

  I paced across the office, trying to figure out what to say to get Sloane off my back, when I stubbed my toe on the chair, sending it rolling across the floor and into the side of my desk. Metal hit wood with a crash, and my heart sank. A second later, Rosie started to cry. Crap.

  So far, almost no one knew about Rosalie, just Vance's doctor and his attorney. He hadn’t decided what he wanted to say, and I did not want to be the one to spill the beans. Especially not to Sloane, who was as proficient a gossip as she was an art dealer.

  "What. Is. That?" she screeched.

  Double crap.

  "Sloane, I have to go," I said. "I'll get you the brochures ASAP, I promise."

  "Is that a baby? Is there a baby over there?"

  "Sloane, don't worry about it. I have to go."

  "Why is there a baby over there, Maggie? Answer me, or I'll close the gallery and come see what's going on for myself."

  Oh, no. No, no, no. That was not a good idea. I was contemplating snatching up Rosie and running for the hills. Rosie cried louder, and I ignored Sloane's questions for a second to peek into the bassinet.

  Triple crap.

  She'd spit up in her crib and all over herself, and the stink of a loaded diaper wafted up to greet me. I knew I should've burped her after that bottle, but she'd been so sweetly asleep that I couldn't bear to risk waking her.

  Now I really did have to go. At the moment, I had two responsibilities in my life—my job and Rosie. There was no question which was more important. The job could wait. Since I was absolutely positive my boss would agree that his daughter was more important than designing brochures, I decided the easiest way to get rid of Sloane was a lie. I was not a good liar, but I had to risk it.

  "Sloane, I'm sorry. I have to go. I'm helping a friend out by babysitting. It's her baby, she's crying, and I have to figure out what's wrong."

  "You don't have time for babysitting, Maggie. You have a job to do, and if you don't want to get fired, you'd better get your ass back to your desk and—"

  I missed the rest of Sloane's threat. She did not have the power to fire me. I hung up the phone and went to Rosie. Ugh. Everything within a foot of her needed to be washed.

  It turned out little Rosalie loved taking baths. She was a slippery little bug, and even with the plastic bathtub set in the sink, I was half terrified she was going to slip and hit her head or get too much water in her eyes. But I managed to get her cleaned up, freshly diapered, and in a new onesie. We won't talk about the mess in the kitchen or the fact that my clothes were soaking wet. I was focused on the clean, dry, happy baby.

  I was fastening the last snap when the elevator rumbled and Vance entered the loft.

  "What happened to you?" He asked, the words concerned, but laughter danced in his eyes.

  I made a face and looked down at myself. I'd started the day reasonably put together. I'd put my hair up, so at least that was still okay, but my navy dress was a disaster, wet down the front, speckled with baby powder and smeared on the shoulder with formula and drool. I hadn't thought to pack a change of clothes. We had diapers and extra outfits for Rosie. I had spare running clothes at the loft, but that was it. It looked like it was leggings and a tank top for the rest of my workday.

  Annoyed that Rosie was clean and happy just in time for me to hand her off, I deposited her in Vance's arms and left the room to change. When I came back, I said, "Did you get it done? Sloane just called, and she's on the warpath. By the way, she heard Rosie crying and I told her I was babysitting for a friend. I didn't think you were ready to tell everyone about Rosalie."

  "Not yet," Vance agreed, rubbing his nose against Rosie's. "I need to think about what we're going to say. But I got the piece done. Can you call Sloane and tell her someone can come pick it up?"

  I shook my head. "Not right now. If I don't finish the layout for those brochures, she's going to chew me a new one. Again. I've had enough of being yelled at today, thank you very much. Rosie is the only one who's allowed to scream at me."

  Vance's eyes narrowed. "What did Sloane say? I told her to watch the way she talks to you."

  "I appreciate the thought, Vance, but she talks that way to everyone except for you. She's just a bitch. I can handle her. But you need to take Rosie for at least two hours so I can get these brochures done, or Sloane is going to come over here, and neither of us wants that."

  "No," Vance agreed. "Hold her for just a sec while I change, and then we'll get out of your hair."

  I took Rosie, and she settled into my arms, laying her head against my shoulder and drooling on my collarbone. She smelled of lavender and lemons. I almost didn't want to give her back when Vance emerged from his bedroom in a long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.

  "Where are you going? Are you taking her down to the gym?"

  "Up on the roof," he said, rummaging through the bags on the couch and coming up with an adorable pink fleece-lined sweater and matching hat. "It's almost sixty degrees and sunny. We both need some fresh air."

  I didn't argue, just helped him get her bundled up. We were probably being overprotective. It wasn't that cold out. I wondered if I should go up there with them, then I remembered I had work to finish. I liked my job, but I'd rather be outside in the sun with Vance and Rosalie. Vance tucked Rosalie against his shoulder and scooped up the baby bouncy in his other hand before disappearing into the elevator.

  I settled myself back at my desk and dove into my project. The loft was too quiet without Rosie and Vance. It was hard to believe that an hour before, I'd wanted nothing so much as peace and quiet. Now that I had it, I wanted Vance and Rosie to come back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  VANCE

  * * *

  This whole situation was fucking with my head. Bad.

  I can't describe the punch of emotion at coming into the room to find Magnolia and Rosie, seeing the proud look on Magnolia's face and my baby girl clean and happy. It got to me, the way the neat and efficient woman I knew had dropped everything to take care of my daughter.

  And Rosie . . . I can't even begin to process what I felt when I walked into a room and saw her. I was not ready to have a kid. Kids weren't even on my radar. I didn't know anyone who had kids. I figured eventually, I'd have a kid. Possibly. I had no idea how to be a dad, but I was going to figure it out. I had to. All Rosie had was me. And Magnolia.

  I set Rosie into her bouncy and started my workout on the suspension system I'd installed on the rooftop deck, letting my mind wander.

  I knew I wanted Rosalie. I was already head over heels in love with her. But her timing sucked. I'd planned everything carefully, and Rosie had dropped in the middle like a bomb. I'd been giving Magnolia time to get over Brayden, planning to make my move. Now that was all fucked up. I couldn't make a move on her now. She'd think i
t was about Rosie.

  I'd roped her into helping me with Rosie out of desperation. I won't lie, I was terrified at the thought of Magnolia going home and leaving me alone with a three-month-old baby. With Magnolia, I knew I could handle it. Between the two of us, we could do anything. On my own? I didn't even want to contemplate that. No fucking way.

  Magnolia was a soft touch. She wouldn't abandon me. But now that I'd talked her into helping me take care of Rosie, it made my plan to seduce her so much more complicated. As much as I hated the idea, I was going to have to wait.

  I was tired of waiting.

  Ever since I'd sobered up, I'd wanted to get my hands all over Magnolia. Wanted to claim her as my own. That was a big fucking lie. I'd wanted her since the first moment I'd seen her. Back then, it had been more lechery than anything else. You couldn’t look at Magnolia and not want to fuck her. Pale blue eyes, thick red hair, soft, creamy skin, and fucking curves that blew my mind. I told her I was forcing her to take up jogging for her health, and yeah, that was part of it, but seriously—her ass in a pair of leggings? I'd fucking run behind that all day.

  I'd fallen for her so gradually that I never saw it happening. At first, it had been about her body, though I'd never dared to make a pass after our first interview. She wouldn't have stood for that shit, and I wasn't willing to risk running her off. That didn't mean I didn't enjoy looking at her.

  Her mind was next. I loved the way her brain worked, the way she would analyze proposals, her thought process in line with mine but different enough that she saw opportunities and obstacles I missed. It got so I didn't like to make any major decisions without her insights. Aiden was right. She was wasted on me, but every time he mentioned trying to hire her away, I threatened to kill him. I wasn't willing to give her up.

  I didn't realize I wanted a relationship with her until I was in rehab. I didn't trust it at the time. I was learning how to live life all over again, and when I thought about safety, about comfort, about what I dreamed in the deepest part of my heart, the answer was always Magnolia Henry.

  It wasn't the right time back then. I had a lot to prove—to myself, to my family, and to Magnolia. She'd stuck with me through everything, and I needed to show her that I was worth it. I also needed her to get rid of her dickhead fiancée. I'd been working on that when he dumped her. What an asshole.

  But I'd had a plan. I was going to give Magnolia a few weeks to get over the twat, and then I was going to declare my intentions and sweep her off her feet. I'd even planned our first date—the restaurant, the flowers. Now all that was out the window. We were stuck with a twenty-four-hour chaperone, and I was going to have to be very careful with Magnolia.

  I tried to think my way through the problem as I went through my familiar workout, and I came up with nothing. All my usual approaches to seducing a woman didn't work with a three-month-old hanging around, and it was way too soon to think about a babysitter. I was barely competent to take care of my own daughter. I wasn't in any position to pawn her off on someone else.

  I thought briefly about hiring a nanny. Half the kids I'd grown up with had been raised by nannies. We'd had one, too. Not when my parents were still alive, but once we moved in with Aunt Olivia and Uncle Hugh, and Olivia had needed an extra hand. I might need to find someone, eventually. Not yet. I wanted to get to know my daughter, just the two of us, before bringing a stranger into the mix. Magnolia didn't count. As far as I was concerned, she was Rosie's family too. She just didn't know it yet.

  "Magnolia said you were up here." I heard the familiar voice across the roof and looked up.

  Shit.

  Jacob and my cousin, Holden. Dammit. Holden had been trying to call me the day before, but I'd ignored his calls. I shouldn't have been surprised Jacob had tracked me down after I'd hung up on him the night before, but I hadn't figured out what I was going to say about Rosie. Looked like I was out of time. I untangled myself from the suspension straps and stood to find Jacob beside Rosie's bouncy, observing her smiling face with a serious expression.

  "Is this what I think it is?" he asked.

  "Depends what you think it is," I said, stalling for time.

  "Is she yours?" Holden asked. "Don't tell me you're babysitting."

  "Not exactly," I said. "And yes, she's mine."

  Jacob’s silver eyes fixed on me, cold and hard. "Are you sure? You don't want to get taken for a ride—"

  "I'm sure," I said, cutting him off. "We rushed the blood test yesterday. This is Rosalie. Rosie. She's my daughter."

  "No shit? She's pretty cute, man." Holden crouched down beside the bouncy and offered Rosie his finger in hello. She grabbed it and yanked, pulling it into her mouth to chew. "So, where did she come from?"

  "Is her mother coming back?" Jacob asked. I shook my head.

  "Her mother's dead," I said, gritting my teeth against the stab in my heart. Amy was dead. I'd hoped, almost believed, that she was going to make it. Looking at Rosie and knowing Amy was going to miss everything in her daughter's life, and that her daughter would never know her, made it so much worse.

  "Shit, I'm sorry," Holden said, looking up at me. "That sucks."

  "Yeah, long story," I said. I didn't want to get into it. I wasn't ready to talk about my history with Amy. Rosie was enough to explain.

  "So what are you two doing here?" I asked. "Just being nosy?"

  Jacob shrugged and grinned. "Basically. What's Magnolia's role in all this?"

  Trust Jacob to ask the tough questions. He never let anything slide by.

  "She agreed to help me with Rosie. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. Neither does Magnolia, but she's a good sport."

  "This makes things complicated," Jacob commented. I knew what he was getting at. He and Aiden had been on my ass forever about Magnolia.

  "I've got this, Jacob," I said, lying. I didn't have it. I had no idea what I was going to do now that Rosie had thrown a wrench into my plans, but the last thing I wanted was Jacob's help.

  Then again, he'd managed to get himself engaged to a smart, beautiful woman who adored him. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to reject his input. I thought about it for a second then threw that idea away. I didn't need Jacob's help. I'd figure things out with Magnolia in my own time, in my own way.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MAGNOLIA

  * * *

  Jacob and Holden stayed for dinner at the loft. Rosie was asleep, and we couldn't bear to risk waking her up by strapping her into the carrier and driving her home. She'd be awake soon enough. Holden ran out for pizza, and we had a relaxing meal except for the weighted glances Jacob kept throwing at Vance. Vance was ignoring him, and I couldn't tell what was going on.

  Whatever. I had more on my mind than the Winters boys.

  I'd managed to get the brochure layout done and emailed off to Sloane, so at least she was off my back. I'd face the rest of my workload tomorrow. Once Vance's show was behind us, we could all relax.

  Rosie woke up just as we were putting her in the car, starving and with a newly wet diaper. We'd already locked up Vance's building and loaded Scout into the back of the Range Rover. Poor Rosie had to suffer for fifteen minutes until we could get back to the house.

  Vance offered to handle the diaper and the bottle while I took Scout for a quick walk in the backyard. He'd been inside all day, mostly ignored as Rosie demanded all of our attention.

  I almost missed it, my hand going automatically to the knob on the kitchen door, my eyes on Scout beside me. The door was slightly ajar, the deadbolt mostly disengaged. The house was old, and some of the doors and windows were tricky. This door had to be pushed all the way shut, then pulled out a fraction of an inch for the deadbolt to fully engage.

  I always locked it correctly out of habit, but if Vance had let Scout in that morning, maybe he hadn't. I couldn't remember which of us had handled Scout after breakfast. The day felt as if it had been a million years long, that morning a lifetime ago.

  "Vance, did you let Scout in
this morning?" I asked, turning the door knob in my hand. It moved easily. Not only was the deadbolt open, but the lock on the handle wasn't engaged.

  "I think so," he said from the other room. "Why?"

  "The door isn't closed all the way." I shrugged and swung it open. It wasn't a big deal. This wasn't a high crime area, and it didn't look like anything had been disturbed in the house, but I didn't want bugs getting in. Every time I forgot and left the back door open while I was outside, I ended up finding a spider in my living room. Yuck.

  Vance came back in the room, carrying a mostly naked Rosie. "The door was open?" he asked.

  "It's not a big deal," I said. "It's an old house, and sometimes, the latch doesn't close properly. We just have to remember to shut it all the way after we let Scout back in."

  "Are you sure we didn't? I don't remember leaving the door open."

  "This morning was nuts, Vance. I'm surprised we all managed to put on our shoes. It's not a big deal. Just try to remember."

  He was still staring at the door when I slipped outside with Scout, an old tennis ball in my hand. My dog was pretty lazy, aside from jogging with Vance, but he chased the ball for a few minutes before he got bored and nudged the back door, looking for his dinner.

  If only babies were as easy as dogs. I remembered the last time Scout had gotten into the trash can and thrown up all over the kitchen floor. Nope, still easier than a baby.

  I was glad we'd already had dinner because I was too tired to cook. I was not too tired for ice cream.

  Grabbing a pint of cookies and cream from the freezer, along with a spoon, I went in search of Vance and Rosie. I found them in the family room, Vance half reclined on the couch, Rosie tucked into his arm and happily feasting on her bottle. I sat on the other side of the couch and opened the ice cream.

  "Hey," Vance said, raising an eyebrow at me and eyeing my spoon loaded with ice cream.