Christmas with the Denton Billionaires: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  One night in his penthouse and she was willing to abandon her own life and fall into his lap of luxury. It wasn’t just the amenities. Mitch was the type of man she wanted to know more about. Their night together had blurred past in conversation and caring for the baby, but it didn’t seem right for it to end now.

  But it had to. Because she needed to get back to her own life, her own apartment, and remember her mother’s pain. Rich playboys were never the right choice, and meeting Mitch seemed like the capstone of this lesson she’d been learning her entire life.

  Just because they’d stumbled upon Noelle together didn’t mean they had to take care of her together.

  It was time for her to go home.

  “You know, I think I can handle things from here,” she said. “I can take her back to my place and keep an eye on her. I know you’ve probably got a lot going on as the COO.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I think between the two of us, I’ve got more experience with kids. So it’ll be easier for me.”

  “I can send you whatever you need—”

  She waved him off, feeling slightly disappointed in her own suggestion but knowing it was the right path. She needed to get back into her own orbit. No basking in his expensive cologne or ogling his impossible view. “We packed most of her stuff into the car, so I’ll just take this and figure out the rest.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Yeah. I don’t live too far from here—you can just drop me off. And then I’ll come back later this week for more planning, but work from home in the meantime and send you drafts of the designs and the proposed program.”

  Mitch nodded, but doubt clouded his face. “Okay. Just let us know where to go.”

  Jules guided the driver through the streets of Manhattan toward her apartment. As they drove, she prepped herself for becoming a temporary single mom of an infant. Definitely not what she’d envisioned for her schedule the next three weeks, but she’d make it work. It would only be until after the holidays. And then she could go back to her regularly scheduled program. Single working woman with a small group of friends and the occasional night out for martinis and one much-needed vacation to Maine per year.

  Great.

  “Yeah. It’s right here.” Jules pointed once he pulled onto her street and helped him find a place to double-park outside her walk-up. When the car stopped moving for more than a few seconds, Noelle started fussing.

  “We’d better hurry,” Jules said, hurrying out of the car.

  “She sure likes riding in the car.” Mitch frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets as he came around to the side of the car as she unstrapped Noelle. “We can keep driving around if it’ll help.”

  “No. I’ve got it. She’ll calm down once we’re inside.”

  “You two go on upstairs,” Mitch said, shooing her toward the front door. “I’ll bring up the stuff.”

  “Okay. I’m on the second floor, first door on the left,” Jules said, and then hurried inside. Once she was in the calm hallway of her building, the familiar scents of caramelized onion and cleaning agent drifting through the hall, she counseled herself to be relieved.

  This was home. Here she was.

  And wasn’t she happy?

  She looked down at Noelle, who looked up at her with clear and vibrant eyes. Big baby blues that zapped her to attention.

  Like finally, Noelle was really seeing her.

  Having the baby in her arms forced Jules to acknowledge that coming back to this place wasn’t returning to a safe haven. It wasn’t the home sweet home she wanted it to be.

  But it was all she had.

  And it would have to do.

  8

  Mitch dragged his feet as he unloaded the car. His stomach had formed a tight knot, and he couldn’t say exactly why, only that leaving Jules here with the baby seemed like a very bad idea.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or that he didn’t believe this was a safe place. No, she lived in a fine neighborhood with plenty of nice-looking cars parked on the street. Jules was definitely the more capable one of the two of them, there was no denying that.

  Still, it just seemed wrong for her to do all the work while he got to go back to his life. Part of him wanted to be able to check on Noelle on an hourly basis until she was officially out of their care. They’d discovered her together—they should care for her together.

  It was some obscure ethical violation to shove all the responsibility onto Jules’s shoulders.

  He closed the trunk without removing the diaper bag and pack-and-play and hurried up to Jules’s apartment. She’d left the door cracked, and he pushed inside cautiously. The place was homey but sparsely decorated. Spartan furniture dotted a small living room, and cardboard boxes lined the wall as if she’d just moved in and was still unpacking.

  “Hey.” He went over to the couch where Jules was unwrapping Noelle from the blankets. Jules glanced up at him.

  “Where’s all the stuff?”

  Mitch cleared his throat, easing onto the couch next to her. “Listen. I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  He worked his jaw back and forth, wondering where on a scale from one to insane this suggestion might fall. But strange times called for stranger measures. And maybe this was just the unexpected way he could give Noelle the Christmas her desperate parent wanted for her.

  He lived a life of privilege. And this was his way of taking care of this unexpected little gift.

  “I think you and Noelle should come back to the penthouse.” He ran his thumb over his knuckles as he met Jules’s gaze. Surprisingly, she wasn’t looking as shocked or horrified as he expected. “It’s a little unconventional, I know, but that way, we can both care for Noelle. And simultaneously work on the party plans. Besides, I can give Noelle a good Christmas. Both of you, really.” He paused, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip as he awaited any sort of firm reaction from her. “What do you think?”

  Jules cleared her throat, smoothing the swaddling blanket over Noelle’s chest. “Well…I don’t know.”

  “We have everything at the hotel. Everything you could possibly need. It would just make things a lot easier while we wait for the holidays to pass and then…figure out the next step.” He ran his fingers over Noelle’s little arm as she punched a tiny fist up out of her swaddle. Clearly his swaddling skills weren’t the best if the baby could get out of it. “It’s your call, though.”

  A strange smile drifted over her face. “So you want me to be your roommate until New Year’s?”

  He laughed. “Sure. You can see it that way if you want. Holiday roommates.”

  “And nobody in the hotel will think it’s strange if a random woman and a random baby just start…living with you?”

  “Not the strangest thing to grace the doors of my penthouse. Besides, a temporary but beautiful wife and child will make the holidays more bearable.”

  The words popped out of his mouth before he could think better of them. Jules’s brow arched. “Upgraded already from roommate to wife and child? That was quick.”

  Heat crept under the collar of his shirt. “You know what I mean. ”

  “So what are the stranger things that have graced the doors of your penthouse? If a sudden family isn’t the weirdest thing.”

  He paused, tilting his head in thought. “Okay, this might be the weirdest thing. But my point still stands. We’ll be more effective working together. And if you can work from home, why not do it from the hotel?”

  Jules lobbed a sigh, and then she finally nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right. Let’s do it.”

  A grin spread across his face, and warmth bubbled up inside his chest. This was absolutely the wildest thing he’d ever suggested—ever stumbled upon—but damn, it felt right.

  As he helped Jules button up her apartment and get the baby ready to go outside again, his mind swirled with thoughts. She brought up a good point about the temporary wife and kid living in his penth
ouse. People absolutely would notice—everyone took a high interest in who and what came up and down the elevators to his apartment. It was only natural, he supposed. As a thirty-something eligible bachelor in Manhattan, his name came up frequently in the tabloids, and women often courted him aggressively.

  He could have anything and anyone he wanted within the world of women, but he rarely indulged. That didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes dip his toes into the waters—but really, he was too busy for a proper relationship. Or even a superficial one, which he’d tried once. After that spectacular but beautiful failure with a woman he’d tried to keep around just for public events and “being seen,” he realized that he needed to hold off on dating until he reached the pinnacle of his career. Family and relationship stuff could come after he reached the top. Meanwhile, there just wasn’t time as he climbed the ladder.

  And he was damn close to that top. Especially if his father made the announcement Mitch was expecting at the Christmas gala.

  Once Jules and Noelle were back in the car, anxiety started churning in his gut. Thinking about the gala always tied him up in knots. It wasn’t about the event planning—he knew they’d get things under control soon—but rather, the cycling worry about whether his father was finally prepared to hand over the reins.

  Mitch had been gunning for this position since the beginning of his career. And one of the hardest parts about his climb was his father himself. The man had exceedingly high standards, but not just in business. In every aspect of life. Since Mitch’s mom had passed, his father had turned into even more of a hardass. And really, he could understand. The man was filling a void with work and perfectionism.

  But that bled into every aspect of Mitch and his brother’s lives. For Mitch personally, his father had always been extremely vocal about who Mitch allowed on his arm. It was Victorian-style classism; only the best and most-educated girls could have a place in Mitch’s life. Anything less than that was simply unacceptable.

  Things were different for his younger brother Josh. He’d never been hellbent on taking over the company, and he wasn’t the eldest, so their father had never quite groomed him the same way. When Josh started dating his assistant last Christmas—going as far as having her pose as his fiancée to win a bid for a new property upstate—their father had been a little skeptical but ultimately accepting.

  But if Mitch had tried to pull that stunt?

  He hesitated to imagine what the blowback would have been. Which meant that anything longer than temporary with Jules and Noelle would be positively disastrous.

  Still, he wanted to allow himself this little respite from his regular life. Bringing in Jules and Noelle promised to make the holidays a lot more interesting. And even though he had it all—literally anything a person could want—there was one thing he was sorely lacking in life.

  Warmth.

  9

  Jules yawned as she stumbled out of the bedroom in the bleary morning hours. This was day three in the penthouse—her third morning since deciding to become Mitch’s holiday roommate, or wife, depending on how you looked at it—and it still seemed unreal. Using this place as her remote office was one thing; cohabiting with Mitch the COO hottie was another altogether.

  She walked around with a constant lady boner in this place. In just three days, she’d come to appreciate all his different phases. Work Mitch, who wore the impeccable suits. Relaxed, After-Dinner Mitch, who unbuttoned the work shirt and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. And then there was Nighttime Mitch. Her favorite one. The guy who wore those cotton tees and soft shorts.

  All those Mitches were the man of her dreams, so it was hard to choose which one she was more attracted to. And each time she caught herself fantasizing about him, while feeding Noelle or working on the party planning, she tried to stop herself.

  But it didn’t stop her from masturbating in the shower each morning, thinking exclusively about what he might look like under those clothes.

  Blue-gray light filtered through the huge windows overlooking Manhattan. Noelle had woken up for a feeding, and now Jules needed some water. On her way to the kitchen, she heard some strange grunting.

  Ts….ts….nngh. Ngh.

  She paused midstride, her entire body going rigid as she struggled to identify the strange noise. What the actual hell?

  Nnngh….fff.

  She whipped around, trying to determine where it was even coming from. At night, the penthouse had a sepulchral air, completely cut off from the outside world save for the stunning view of the city. It wasn’t like most rooms in a hotel, where you could hear the showers of your neighbor or the hurried footsteps of children above or below your room.

  In here, sound didn’t seem to enter or escape. Which made this even stranger.

  Jules tried to follow the noise, and it led her toward Mitch’s side of the penthouse. She poked her head down the hallway to his master bedroom, and the noises grew louder. Now there was huffing. Definite huffing. Light spilled out of an open doorway further down, and she crept toward it.

  She poked her head into the doorway, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright light filling the room. She stared directly into a floor-to-ceiling mirror stretching across the opposite wall.

  And there was Mitch. Bent into a very awkward triangle pose.

  Shirtless. Sweaty. And impossibly muscled.

  Their gazes met in the reflection of the mirror, and shock crested his face. A second later, he tumbled out of his pose, landing on his ass. Hard.

  She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. “Are you okay?”

  Mitch sat up, draping his arm over a bent knee. He rubbed his face before dropping onto his back and groaning.

  “I’m fine. Believe it or not.”

  “Were you doing yoga?”

  A helpless laugh escaped him. “I was.”

  Damn. There was something endearing about this perfect, rich hottie who also did yoga in his private gym—and sometimes failed at a pose. She bit her lip, trying to rein in her mind before she fell into the abyss of hopeless attraction. “I’m sorry for butting in. I didn’t mean to interrupt or make you fall over. I just—I heard some noises, and I wasn’t sure…”

  More laughter shook out of him. “Oh god. I can only imagine what you were probably thinking.”

  That it sounded like you were masturbating? Heat scorched through her cheeks, and she tried to push the thought away. That probably was not what he was getting at. Still, now that her mind had gone there, it was nearly impossible to reel it back in.

  “No, no, I just…I was…” She had nothing available as an excuse or recovery. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay. You know, it could have been the neighbors…” Better to stop while she was ahead. Divert. Divert. “You looked good. Your form, I mean. The form of your body…like, the posture.” God, this was getting worse. More embarrassing by the second. “Like, your teacher would be proud, you know?”

  Mitch propped up on his elbows and looked at her with a curious smirk. His abs popped out in hard ridges sitting like that, and she couldn’t rip her gaze off him. Not even if a bomb exploded in the kitchen.

  “Do you do yoga?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes.” She shrugged. “Mostly when there’s wine involved.”

  He laughed again and pushed to standing. He grabbed for a white towel on a nearby rack and ran it over the back of his neck as he approached her.

  When he got close enough, she remembered that she was here. Like physically present in her just-woken-up glory. Mitch’s perfect form had been so distracting that she’d forgotten all about herself. Dressed in booty shorts and a skimpy tank top—one glance in the mirror confirmed the embarrassing reality. Her nipples had hardened into two obvious points beneath her shirt. She might as well just spread herself out now and ask him to mount her.

  “Do you work out other than that?” he asked, tilting his head.

  Now her cheeks were flaming; they had to be. She crossed her arms over her chest and affec
ted the most casual stance she could muster. “Uh, yeah…well…I mean not really.” Her brain was officially dissolved. He stopped just a few steps away from her, his hands on his hips, that little white towel dangling over his shoulders. God, this man was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

  “That’s surprising.”

  “I know, I know—a Manhattanite who doesn’t work out.”

  “No, I mean, you have a killer figure. I thought you hit the gym all the time.”

  She jerked her gaze to his in shock. He couldn’t be serious. “Wh—” She shook her head. “You’re kidding right?”

  His brows drew together. “No. I’m serious. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?” He swung around, pointing at their reflections.

  She caught her deer-in-headlights look and straightened, trying to wipe some of the shock off her face. “Well…thanks. My overworked and underfed lifestyle must be really paying off.”

  He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re the type of woman who only orders salad at restaurants.”

  “Salad as a starter,” she clarified. “Which may or may not be followed by an enormous steak.”

  The smirk blossomed into a grin. There was something cocky about him now. Like catching him in his own oasis, messing him up and making him fall, had cracked something open between them and now the truth could pour out. He thought she was hot. That’s all she’d heard—that’s all that mattered.

  And now her curiosity—as well as her vanity—was aroused.

  If he thought she was hot, what else might happen?

  “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way trying to arrange these vegetarian masterpieces the past two days.”

  It was true—Mitch had made a big deal about bringing in healthy food from the hotel kitchen.

  “Hey, everything has been delicious. I have no complaints. None at all. But I wouldn’t mind a healthy slab of meat once in a while.”

  He hefted with a laugh, his gaze raking boldly over her. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to impress you.”