The Billionaire's Baby Bargain (A is for Alpha)

by Shelli Stevens

  Chloe had fled as if he were the big bad wolf, about to devour her. Though perhaps the girl was smart, because his intentions were indeed something along those lines.

  His mouth twitched. He turned his chair and focused his attention on the file in front of him once more. The figures showed the net profits for Diablo’s Paraíso had increased by nearly twenty-five percent in the last six months, and his Valencia resort was quickly becoming one of the most popular of his European locations.

  Apparently his decision to hire Estella Martinez had been a wise one. The divorcee was as astute as she was beautiful. Though it was for her qualifications, not her looks, that he’d hired her…even if he sensed the woman might want more than just a business relationship between them. Fortunately, there was no attraction on his part, and even if there were, he would not be so unintelligent as to act on it.

  Andrés closed the file and stared out the window once more, restlessness prickling under his skin. It was getting late in the evening, and the beach was less crowded than it had been a couple of hours ago.

  Once again his mind slipped to Chloe. The softness of her mouth beneath his and the seductively feminine response she’d had while in his arms.

  “Basta.” He shook his head and stood up from his chair. No woman deserved to occupy this many of his thoughts.

  A cold shower would rid her from his mind. Or no, perhaps a vigorous swim in the Mediterranean. It was always a failsafe to eradicate unwanted stress.

  With a growing determination, he set off to the penthouse to change.

  Chloe squeezed a bit more ocean water from her hair as she walked back to the resort on the moonlit beach. She inhaled the salty air and shivered, the gentle breeze caressing her damp skin.

  Her friends had protested her leaving so soon, but she’d explained having to wake up early to be at work in the morning. To which they’d bemoaned what a tyrant Estella Martinez was. They were always quick to point out how the resort used to be a wonderful place to work until she took over managing it. And from everything Chloe had seen about the woman, she could well believe it.

  Smothering a yawn, Chloe winced at the thought of another long day tomorrow.

  The swim had been invigorating after her long shift, but she’d skipped the alcohol the rest of the group had been indulging in. She rarely drank, and Chloe knew if she’d taken a sip of the sangria she’d just grow more tired. And her mind was still fuzzy from that sensual moment earlier with the handsome stranger.

  Who was he? She bit her lip, trying not to think about the kiss and just how much it had stirred her.

  She was nearly back to the path to the hotel when she realized someone seemed really close behind her. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to investigate and her pulse jumped.

  A man. Mostly in shadow. Biting her lip, she tried to increase her pace.

  The hotel was closer now and was within view of the path up ahead. Chloe gathered the length of her sarong and started to run. Footsteps rushed behind her and she knew she was in trouble. Her heart slammed against her ribcage when a hand grabbed her arm; his painful grip spun her around.

  “What’s your hurry, baby?” he asked, his voice slurred.

  Chloe recognized the man immediately. He was one of the guests at the resort, an American. Oh, no. No, no, no.

  “Let go of me,” she said forcefully, hoping her panic didn’t show through.

  That policy Estella Martinez had instilled at the Diablo’s Paraíso resort, or the Devil’s Paradise, was catching up with her in a big, nasty way.

  “I thought we could pick up where we left off this afternoon, when you were serving me drinks.” He pressed himself closer to her and the alcohol fumes from his breath nearly burned her nostrils. “Damn, but you’re a pretty one. You’re an American, too, aren’t you honey?”

  She tried to jerk away, fear in her gut, but it was impossible.

  Flirt with the guests. Make them feel important. Do whatever it takes to ensure they are satisfied, Estella had ordered. Flirting didn’t come naturally to Chloe, but she managed to force herself. And until now it had never posed a threat to her safety.

  Her throat went tight with fear, her heart pounding a mile a minute. “Please, let me go. I’m not interested,” she protested, trying to free herself from his grip, searching around for someone on the beach who could help.

  “You sure seemed interested this afternoon, baby.” He grinned and then grabbed her bottom.

  “Stop it.” Panic hit full force and her voice rose.

  She managed to pull free enough to stumble backward. Her relief was short-lived when her foot caught in her sarong and she went sprawling onto the sand. The man was on top of her in an instant, lips burying against her neck, hands tearing at her bikini top.

  Chloe screamed full force, terror clogging the air in her throat while she fought to free herself. But she was no match for his drunken dead weight.

  The weight of the man suddenly lifted, the smell of sweat and alcohol removed from her nostrils, and she sucked in a desperately needed breath.

  She scurried backward in the sand, fearful he would grab her again, but then she looked up and gave a sob of relief.

  Chapter 2

  Andrés let out a snarl of rage as he gripped the American’s shirt, lifting the man off the ground. He drew back his fist and smashed it into the man’s face. His snapped back and he gave a groan of pain.

  “Leave before I kill you,” he muttered savagely, thrusting him to the ground.

  The man stumbled to his feet, gripping his jaw, but fearfully ran in the opposite direction.

  Andrés turned to find Chloe, his throat tight with fury and regret. She cowered just yards away, arms wrapped around her legs and her head lowered on top of her knees.

  “You are safe now, cariño.” He knelt down beside her and lifted her chin. Her eyes brimmed with tears of shock and fear. Muttering a soft curse, he scooped her up into his arms.

  “Please,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m fine. I can walk back myself.”

  “Basta. Enough,” he said fiercely and lifted her petite frame higher against his chest.

  He managed to grab her backpack before carrying her toward the resort.

  Still, her body trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. She’d been lucky he’d been swimming nearby and had heard her screams. To think of what could have happened… When he’d seen Chloe pinned beneath the bastard, heard her cry of terror, he’d snapped. Never before had he experienced such rage, nor had he wanted to snap a man’s neck more than in that moment.

  A growl sounded low in his throat, and Chloe stiffened in his arms. With a silent curse, he forced himself to relax, to ease the fury from his face. The last thing he needed was to frighten her any more than she already was. Chloe rested lightly in his arms, and when she stared up at him through damp long eyelashes she looked achingly vulnerable. Entirely too beautiful.

  Some of the anger faded. Desire stirred in his loins and he shook his head in disbelief. How could he be having such thoughts when she was obviously traumatized?

  He needed to take her somewhere private. Have her sit down for a moment and take a sip of brandy to calm her nerves. His thoughts turned to the cabana on the resort’s property. It was near the beach and had been set aside for his own personal use, but he had yet to take advantage of it. Damn, did he even remember the code to enter it?

  Once outside the cabana though, he was able to recall the password and soon had them inside the small room.

  “Where are we?” she asked, scrubbing the tears off her cheeks.

  “Somewhere safe,” he assured her, and set her still-trembling body down on the bed in the middle of the room. “Just try to relax for a moment.” He moved to the mini bar and found what he was looking for. Pouring a bit of brandy into a glass, he returned to the bed, where she sat unmoved. “Drink,” he commanded softly.

  She shook her head. “I-I don’t drink that stuff.”

  “Tonigh
t you do.” He lifted the glass to her mouth, knowing once the drink hit her stomach she’d relax a bit. Calm down. “You have had a shock, Chloe. It will settle your nerves.”

  Chloe met his gaze, saw the gentle determination there, and then parted her lips, letting him tilt the glass of amber liquid into her mouth. The fiery drink slid down her throat, burning just a little, but sliding warmth in its path. She swallowed all the contents in the glass and then pushed it away.

  Her heart had yet to slow from that terrifying moment on the beach. What had almost happened…what could have happened if this man hadn’t come along.

  Who was he? This man who’d kissed her in the moonlight and then rescued her just hours later.

  “I don’t even know your name,” she whispered, handing him back the glass.

  He accepted the glass, his eyes darkening. “Andrés.”

  “Andrés,” she repeated shyly, testing the name on her tongue. The name was just as mesmerizing as the man who stood gazing down at her.

  There was something in his stare that had the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. A small tremble shook her body, but this time it had nothing to do with fear.

  Dragging her attention from him, Chloe looked around the room, frowning. Where were they? Everything was a bit of blur from the moment he’d rescued her. After the attack, the fear had continued to be debilitating, even after Andrés had lifted her into his arms. But being held against his chest, hearing the steadying thump of his heart, had eased the terror a little.

  But how had she not noticed where he’d taken her? Wherever they were, it seemed to be some kind of private cabana. The square wooden building held a bed in the center, a round table for two, and a mini bar in the corner.

  “Can you tell me what happened on the beach?” he asked softly.

  Her nerves had settled a bit from the brandy, but the question sent an icy wave through her. She closed her eyes and recalled the attacker’s hands on her. Smelt the stench of alcohol and stale sweat.

  “I…can’t,” she choked out. “Please, I don’t want to relive it right now.”

  The mattress dipped, and then his strong arms closed around her again. “Of course. I was insensitive to ask, cariño.” He pressed her head to his chest and stroked her hair, continuing to murmur something soothing in Spanish that she was too tired to try and translate.

  This is foolish. She didn’t know Andrés any more than she’d known that vile attacker on the beach, and yet she sank into his embrace, welcoming the calm it brought. In his arms there was a sense of safety unrivaled by anything she’d ever known. And right now she welcomed it. Needed it.

  She blinked, realizing for the first time that he wore nothing more than swim trunks. The discovery sent a slow warmth through her chilled body. His chest was strong, solid and warm, despite having just swum in the ocean.

  Chloe listened to the calming metronome of Andrés’s heartbeat, the dark hair on his hard chest tickling her cheek. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the smell of man and the saltiness of the sea. The memory of his kiss earlier tonight flickered through her mind and her pulse jumped. It didn’t take long for the thoughts of the attack on the beach to fade away. She was soon cloaked in the unexpected sensuality of the present. Nothing else mattered except the man who now held her.

  Something stirred inside her. Something hot, potent, and startling. Maybe it was just her body responding to the presence of such a virile, near-naked man. To his confidence and protectiveness. Whatever it was, everything within her reacted.

  The heat moving through her body spread low, creating a sweet ache between her thighs. Her breasts swelled and she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, embarrassed by her blatant reaction to being in his arms.

  She shouldn’t be having this response. Not after what had just nearly happened.

  What on earth is wrong with me?

  Cristos, he wanted this woman.

  Andrés hardened his jaw, trying to keep his arousal at bay to avoid startling her with a very physical reaction. In his embrace, Chloe was so small and defenseless. Deliciously feminine. He tightened his arms around her slim body; jolted with another stab of protectiveness. It was an unfamiliar emotion, and he hesitated to question why she brought it out in him.

  Stroking a hand through her hair, he pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.

  He should have beaten the man within an inch of his life. Hell, it was no less than the bastard deserved. If he’d been thinking more clearly, beyond the rage, he would have detained the man and called the authorities. He would make a call when he returned to the hotel and have the man hunted down. He still had a fairly good memory of the man’s physical description.

  Chloe turned in his embrace and the softness of her breast brushed against his arm. Andrés could’ve sworn her lips touched his naked skin. Desire fired through his blood and he clenched his teeth, unable to stop his body’s reaction this time.

  She inhaled swiftly and another tremble rocked her body.

  “You are chilled,” he said roughly, and began to set her away from him so he could reach for a blanket.

  “No, please don’t leave,” she pleaded, gripping his arm to stop his movement. She glanced up at him through her lashes and he saw desire in her eyes that matched his own. Then she whispered, “I’m not cold.”

  Dios. She must know what she was saying. He shouldn’t…and yet he knew he could no more stop himself from what he was about to do than stop the sun from rising in the morning.

  Andrés caught her chin in a light grip and tilted her head, bringing her mouth up in an offering he would not resist. His lips covered hers, gently, catching the soft sigh she gave. Chloe turned fully in his grasp, facing him now, and slid her arms around his neck. Her mouth parted beneath his.

  He hauled her against him, crushing the mounds of her breasts against his bare chest. Delving his tongue into her mouth, he teased her, drove them both to a breathless fervor. Just as it had been earlier, the urgency in his blood shocked him. Never had he been so close to losing control with a woman. Never did he feel such a need to claim her.

  Tearing his mouth free from hers, he tilted her back over his arm to bury his mouth against the hollow of her throat. The sweetness of her skin tempted him to flick his tongue against the rapidly beating pulse in her neck.

  He moved a hand between them to cup the fullness of one breast, thrilling at the moan she made. Even through the stretchy fabric of her bikini top her hardened nipple pressed into his palm.

  Sí. She wanted him.

  Chloe cried out, her body arching up while pleasure skyrocketed through her body.

  Too fast. Oh God, this is moving too fast.

  His lips slid to the curve of her shoulder and neck, caressing. Tasting. The hand that held her breast squeezed just enough to drag another moan from her, and the need that settled low in her belly grew stronger.

  “Andrés,” she pleaded, her hips rising, begging for something she wasn’t even completely sure of.

  “Sí, Chloe,” he murmured, nipping at her flesh. His hand moved lower, tugged at her sarong. “I know.”

  Another wave of doubt rushed through her. Stronger this time, refusing to let her be drawn back under the tide of this sensual irrationality. She barely knew him, and would be leaving Spain in less than a month, not to mention he was likely one of the guests at the resort. Was this really such a good idea?

  “Wait,” she whispered, shaking her head to clear it. “Please.”

  His lips brushed hers while he caressed her hip. “¿Por qué? I can ease the ache, cariño. I can pleasure you if you’ll let me.”

  Oh, she didn’t doubt it for a minute. But he was too confident. Entirely too seductive and with a practiced touch. How often did he do this—seduce women? She had to wonder just how long his trail of broken hearts was.

  The idea sent a pang of hurt through her, a surprising disappointment that had her throat tightening. “No,” she said firmer now. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.�
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  Andrés lifted his head and stared down at her, his dark eyes filled with desire and yet a control that sent a frisson of unease through her. Who looked like that after such a passionate moment? It didn’t seem normal. “Chloe, tell me what is wrong.”

  She slid out from beneath him, flushing self-consciously. How had she let things get so out of hand? This was completely unlike her.

  “Nothing is wrong,” she muttered and rushed to grab her backpack. “It’s just…I’m sorry, Andrés. I really am, but I’m just not the type of girl who does this.”

  Andrés stood slowly from the bed, his erection throbbing, and the need for her stronger than it had ever been with any woman. But now she stood watching him, her expression skittish and her body taut. She seemed ready to bolt.

  “And what type of girl is that?” he asked gently, taking a step toward her. “The type to act on the passion between consenting adults? To take pleasure for herself?”

  The muscles in her neck clenched as she swallowed. Andrés came to stand in front of her. He pushed a silky strand of hair over her shoulder and ran the back of his finger down her cheek.

  “It is natural, Chloe. There is no shame in this.” He rubbed his thumb across her swollen mouth and said softly, “I promise I will not hurt you.”

  Something flickered in her eyes, an image or a thought that was making her reconsider. And then her phone rang.

  “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t.” She jerked away, turned and then fled the cabana.

  He sighed and closed the door behind him, walking slowly back to the resort. The sharp ache of arousal faded as he thought about all that had occurred in the last hour. His lips tightened into a grim line and he shook his head, dismayed at his behavior. He shouldn’t have touched her so soon, not after the attack on the beach. Perhaps she’d been eager to explore the passion between them, but he shouldn’t have let her. Not yet, anyway. Why hadn’t he taken into account the fact that she was still in shock? How had he not even shown the slightest bit of restraint?