She jerked back fast. “Any last minute things to tell me about the kids when I order up supper?”
“Owen is allergic to strawberries, but Olivia loves them and if she can get her hands on them, she tries to share them with her brother. So watch that—hotels do the strawberry garnish thing on meals.”
“Anything else?” She tried to pull her eyes away from the nimble glide of his fingers up the buttons on his shirt.
“If you have an emergency, you can contact me at this number.” He grabbed a hotel pen and jotted a string of numbers on the back of a business card. “That’s my private cell line I use only for the kids.”
“Got it.” She tucked it in the corner of the gold gilded mirror. She could handle a couple of babies for a few hours.
Right?
“Don’t lose it. And don’t let Owen find it or he will eat it.” He unbuckled his belt.
Her jaw dropped.
He tucked in his shirttails—and caught her staring. Her face heating, she turned away. Again.
Looking out the window seemed like a safe idea even though she’d been to St. Augustine about a dozen times. She could see Flagler College across the way, a place she’d once considered attending. Except her parents refused to pay if she left Charleston. Students at the Flagler castlelike fortress must feel as if they were attending Hogwarts. In fact, the whole city had a removed-from-reality feel, a step out of time. Much like this entire trip.
A Cinderella carriage pulled by a horse creaked slowly by as a Mercedes convertible whipped around and past it.
As Charleston had the French Huguenot influence, buildings here sported a Spanish Renaissance flair, and if Seth didn’t get dressed soon, she would run out of things to look at. He was too much of a threat to her world for her to risk a tempting peek.
Her body hummed with awareness even when she didn’t see him. What a hell of a time for her hormones to stoke to life again.
“You can turn around now.” Seth’s voice stroked along her ragged nerves.
She chewed her lip, spinning back to face him, a man too handsome for his own good—or hers. “I’ve taken care of babies before.”
Not often, but for friends in hopes she could prepare herself for the day it was her turn. A day that had never come around.
“Twins are different.” He tugged the tie back over his head.
If he was so worried, he should cancel his meeting. She wanted to snap at him, but knew her irritability for what it was. Her perfect plan for the day had gone way off course, complicated even more by how damn attracted she was to the man she wanted to woo for a contract, not as a bed partner.
Memories of rustling sheets and sweat-slicked bodies smoked through her mind. She’d had a healthy sex life with her ex, so much so that she hadn’t considered something could be wrong until everything fell apart. She definitely couldn’t trust her body to judge the situation.
“Seth,” she said his first name so easily she almost gasped, but forced herself to continue, “the twins and I will manage. We’ll eat applesauce and fries and chicken nuggets then skyrocket your pay-per-view bill with cartoon movies until our brains are mush. I’ll watch Olivia with small objects, and Owen’s charm won’t distract me from his climbing or strawberry snitching. They’ll be fine. Go to your meeting.”
He actually hesitated before grabbing his jacket from the edge of the bed. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”
Oh, her body needed him all right. Too much for her own good. She was better off using her brains.
Seth stepped from the elevator into the lobby full of arches that led to the bar and restaurant. He scanned the chairs and sofas of rich dark woods with red-striped fabrics. Looking further, he searched past the heavy beams and thick curtains pulled back at each archway.
Thank God, somehow he’d managed to make it here ahead of his dinner partner. He strode past an iron fountain with Moorish tiles toward the bar where he was supposed to meet Javier Cortez, a cousin to royalty.
Literally. Cortez was related to the Medina family, a European monarchy that had ended in a violent coup. The Medinas and relatives had relocated to the United States, living in anonymity until a media scoop exposed their royal roots last year.
Cortez had served as head of security to one of the princes prior to the newsbreak and now oversaw safety measures for the entire family. Landing the Medinas as clients would be a huge coup.
Seth hitched up onto a stool at the bar, waving to the bartender for a seltzer water. Nothing stronger tonight.
Jansen Jets was still a small company, relatively speaking, but thanks to an in, he’d landed this meeting. One of those “Human Web” six degrees of separation moments—his cousin’s wife’s sister married into the Landis family, and a Landis brother married the illegitimate Medina princess.
Okay, that was more like ten degrees of separation. Thankfully, enough to bring him to this meeting. From this point on he had to rest on his own merits. Much like he’d told Alexa. Alexa…
Damn it all, did every thought have to circle back around to her?
Sure he’d noticed her on a physical level when he’d first stepped on the plane, and he’d managed the attraction well enough until he’d caught her eyes sliding over his body as he’d undone his pants. The ensuing heat wave sure hadn’t been a welcome condition right before a meeting.
But he needed her help, so he would damn well wrestle the attraction into submission. His kids were his number one priority. He’d tried calling his ex multiple times since landing in St. Augustine, but only got her voice mail. Life had been a hell of a lot less complicated when he was flying those routes solo in North Dakota.
There didn’t seem to be a damn thing more he could do about his mess of a personal life. Hopefully he could at least make headway in the business world.
Starting now.
The elevator dinged, doors swished open and Javier Cortez stepped out. Predictably the bar patrons buzzed. The newness of having royalty around hadn’t worn off for people. The forty-year-old royal cousin strode out confidently, his Castilian heritage fitting right into the hotel’s decor.
The guy’s regal lineage didn’t matter to Seth. He just appreciated the guy’s hard-nosed efficiency. This deal would be sewn up quickly, one way or another.
“Sorry I’m late.” Cortez thrust out his hand. “Javier Cortez.”
“Seth Jansen.” He stood to shake Javier’s hand and then resettled onto a barstool beside the other guy.
The bartender placed an amber drink in front of Javier before he even placed an order. “I appreciate your flying down to meet with me here.” He rattled the ice and looked around with assessing eyes. “My wife loves this place.”
“I can see why. Lots of historic appeal.”
It was also a good locale to conduct business, near the Medinas’ private island off the coast of Florida. Although Seth hadn’t been invited into that inner sanctum yet. Security measures were tight. No one knew the exact location and few had seen the island fortress. The Medinas owned a couple of private jets, but were looking to increase their transport options to and from the island as their family expanded with marriages and new children.
Cortez tasted his drink and set it on the cocktail napkin. “Since my wife and I are still technically finishing up our honeymoon, I promised her a longer stay, the chance to shop, laze around by the pool, soak up some Florida sun before we head back to Boston.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, thanks. I hear you have your kids and their sitter with you.”
Of course he’d heard, even though Seth had only been in town for about an hour. The guy was a security whiz and obviously didn’t walk into a meeting unprepared. “I like to work in time with them whenever I can, so I brought the kids and Mary Poppins along.”
“Excellent. Then you won’t mind if we postpone the rest of this discussion.”
Crap. Just what he didn’t need.
The stay here extended. Less taken care of tonight, more tomorrow and even the next day. “Of course.”
Cortez stood, taking his drink with him as he started back toward the elevator. Seth abandoned his seltzer water.
They stepped into the elevator together, and Cortez swiped his card for the penthouse level. “My wife and I would enjoy having you and your kids meet us for breakfast in the morning, your sitter, too. Around nine? Great,” he said without waiting for an answer. “See you there.”
Holy hell. Breakfast in a restaurant with a one-year-old was tough enough. But with two of them?
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?
Three
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 in
to 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.”
“Thanks,” she said tightly, stabbing at her pudding.
Billionaire's Jet Set Babies Page 4
