Читать книгу His Little Miracle: The Billionaire's Baby - Nicola Marsh - Страница 10

CAMRYN stared at the elevator buttons in confusion.

‘This can’t be right,’ she thought, wondering if she should pop out to the doorman and ask him to re-buzz Blane and double-check.

According to the fancy engraved writing above the gold buttons there was only one apartment, 8801, on the entire eighty-eighth floor of the swanky Eureka Towers. Only one? Considering the building was ninety-two storeys, and the eighty-eighth was the highest anyone could access, she’d hazard a guess Blane lived in the penthouse.

A penthouse which covered a whole floor?

Shaking her head in disbelief, she hit the button for 8801 and backed against the rear of the elevator, finding small comfort in the feel of hard, cold, gold-plated steel panels at her back, while her startled reflection stared back at her from surrounding mirrored glass.

Either he made an absolute fortune out of building or he was house-sitting for someone. And if so, he certainly moved in higher circles than she did.

She vaguely remembered the publicity surrounding the Towers when it first opened, about it being the tallest residential tower in the world and a penthouse costing around seven million dollars. The figure alone made her feel faint, exacerbated by the nine-second ride to the eighty-eighth floor.

Blinking as the doors soundlessly slid open, she stepped out, pulling a small wheelie suitcase, and caught her breath at the pale-gold carpets embossed with cream swirls, the filigree around the down-lights and the incredibly detailed cornices.

This place was stunning, and she hadn’t even made it into his apartment yet.

Pressing the doorbell, she smoothed her skirt, her belly churning with nerves.

It had nothing to do with this place and everything to do with the man about to open the door, a man she couldn’t stop thinking about, a man with the potential to distract her from her number one goal: to make the Niche the best café in Melbourne.

She didn’t do distractions.

She couldn’t afford to.

Her success in the city was the only thing that kept the loneliness demons away, kept her focused enough to not lament the loss of her husband, a possible baby and a family that had betrayed her trust in them.

As the door swung open, she fixed a smile on her face and forced her hands to her sides. If she smoothed her skirt any more it would look as if she’d spent the last hour ironing. And it was bad enough she’d decided to change without him thinking she’d gone overboard.

‘Hey, Cam. Come on in.’

Easy for him to say. How was a girl supposed to walk when her knees started shaking the moment she caught sight of him in sand-coloured chinos, casual white shirt and barefoot, looking laid-back and slightly mussed and sexy all at the same time.

Willing her knees to behave—lock, lift, flex—she walked past him, his fresh-from-the-shower scent not playing fair with her poor wobbly legs.

‘Nice place. Though kind of small, isn’t it?’

He chuckled, took her suitcase, propped it near the door and propelled her into the monstrous lounge area with a gentle hand in her back, an innocuous touch that had no right playing havoc with her body.

‘I like my space.’

‘It’s yours?’

She stopped at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, her breath catching at the incredible view of Melbourne and its surrounds spread out like a fairy-tale city in the dusk.

‘Yeah, I bought it off the plan when they were building this place.’

With a superhuman effort she bit her tongue to stop from blurting what she was thinking: how could he afford a place like this?

Instead, she focused on identifying landmarks, taking in the sweeping vista from the Blue Dandenongs mountain range to Port Phillip Bay, from the beautiful Botanical Gardens laid out like a lush green carpet to the sparkling waters of Albert Park Lake.

And she thought she had great views in her tenth-storey Docklands apartment!

‘You’re curious, aren’t you?’

‘About?’ she returned pseudo-casually.

Gesturing to a Chippendale sofa for her to take a seat, he smiled. ‘About this place.’

Sinking into the deep leather, she crossed her legs, grateful she’d gone with the mid-calf pencil skirt and not her favourite above-the-knee mini which she always slipped into after work.

‘I’m a little intrigued,’ she admitted.

Taking a seat next to her, he rested his arm across the back and leaned towards her.

‘With me or my place?’

Overwhelmed by his nearness, she took a deep breath, his aftershave filtering through her senses, the intoxicating scent of pure Blane encouraging her to bridge the short gap between them and bury her nose in the crook of his neck. Right on the tempting spot where his collar rested against his neck, where his impressive tan dipped away to broad shoulders covered in cotton, the sensitive spot she knew for a fact would drive him wild if she nipped it.

She could lie, pretend there was nothing between them, act as if he didn’t affect her one little bit. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them, and they’d been through too much to start playing games now.

‘Both,’ she said, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze head on, challenging him to…what?

Say she intrigued him, too? That was a given considering he wanted them to have a second chance.

Tell her she was crazy for contemplating giving him what he wanted? That went without saying, for no matter how many times she evaluated this logically, her emotional side would creep up and give her a big whack over the head, urging her to go for it.

Kiss her senseless? Personally, the last option was her preferred choice, but for now she’d settle for a healthy dose of honesty, starting with how he came to afford a place like this.

Cupping her chin, he brushed a thumb along her jaw, sending shivers of longing through her.

‘Careful. Your new flatmate might go getting ideas if you say he intrigues you.’

Disconcerted by his unwavering stare, she aimed for light-hearted, anything to quell the urge to shove his hand away before she did something crazy like hang on to it for dear life.

‘So, tell me how you got this place. Let me guess. You’ve given up building to be a drug lord.’

‘No.’

‘You’ve discovered you’re the secret love child of Bill Gates?’

His mouth twitched. ‘No.’

‘Well, come on then, spill it.’

With a slow, sexy grin that did wicked things to her heart rate, he said, ‘We didn’t exactly get around to discussing my job the other night or earlier this evening, did we?’

‘That would be because you were too busy playing the burly builder.’

She smiled, wondering if he’d remember how she used to call him that, how she’d teased him mercilessly.

His eyes narrowed, losing none of their sparkle. ‘Playing, huh? Just for the record, we’re all grown up now, in case you haven’t noticed.’

Oh, she’d noticed all right; as her belly dropped in a frightening free fall, her core temperature ratcheted up by about a hundred degrees, and she itched to bridge the gap between them and clamber onto his lap.

See, she knew this cohabiting thing was a bad idea.

She’d barely made it through the front door, and already her imagination was overreacting while her body…well, needless to say, her body needed some attention, something she would definitely not be getting from Blane if she knew what was good for her.

‘Okay, so tell me about this building job of yours,’ she said, opting for a nice, safe answer, something that wouldn’t give him the opportunity to flirt considering she desperately needed a few moments to compose herself and stop thinking about exactly how he’d grown up.

‘Ever heard of BA Constructions?’

She shook her head, the name vaguely familiar, the type of thing she might have seen on billboards or scaffolding around the city. ‘Not sure.’

‘That’s my company.’

He pronounced it with the kind of unaffected casualness she’d come to associate with him from the first minute he’d bowled into her parents’ old-fashioned coffee shop and swept her off her feet, the quiet confidence of a guy who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘The Melbourne Cricket Ground renovation? We were contracted to do it.’

Just like that, the proverbial penny dropped. BA Constructions wasn’t just any company; they’d made headlines for securing the megadeal to renovate Melbourne’s biggest sports stadium ahead of larger, more established construction companies. And there’d been something about making a financial magazine’s rich list, too…

‘BA Constructions, huh? Blane Andrews, CEO extraordinaire by the sounds of things.’

He shrugged, his self-deprecating smile adorable. ‘You know I’m basically a builder at heart. I worked hard, got the right contacts, put in the hard yards and it paid off.’

And how, if this swanky penthouse was any indication.

‘I’m happy for you,’ she said, instinctively reaching out to touch his hand, proud beyond belief he’d achieved so much.

‘Thanks. I did it for us.’

Heat infused his gaze, instant and smouldering, burning her with its intensity, drawing her to him like a moth to a scorching flame: hypnotic, inevitable, despite the struggle to escape.

‘Because I wanted to come back to you with something we can build a future on. A strong foundation for what I hope we can achieve together. You know that, right?’

She nodded reluctantly, wishing she could leap off the sofa and put some much-needed distance between them, but unable to move, caught up in something bigger and more powerful than the both of them.

Capturing her hand, he brushed his thumb across the back of it, soft, gentle caresses which sent heat spiralling out of control through her.

‘I know I said no pressure, and, believe me, I intend to stick to it, but I need you to tell me exactly what you’re thinking about all of this. About us.’

There is no us popped into her head, though thankfully she had the foresight not to blurt it out despite her befuddled brain as his thumb continued to do its thing.

She’d already waged an inner battle for the last few hours, dreaming up ways to pull out of staying here while secretly looking forward to it, devising ways to ditch their dinner date while ensuring she paid her debt.

He had her confused, bamboozled and hotter than she’d ever been. And she was tired of pretending this all meant nothing, that he could breeze into her life without affecting her.

Sighing, she turned her hand over, sliding her fingers between his, the intertwining sending a feeling of simple joy through her.

This was some of the stuff she’d missed about being part of a couple: the hand-holding, the shared moments, the in-jokes.

Maybe she could get to know him a little better, get reacquainted, see where it led. What did she have to lose, when she’d lost the most important thing—him—years earlier?

‘You want to know what I think? I think you’re crazy for waltzing back into my life and thinking we can pick up where we left off.’

A slight frown appeared between his brows, and she raised a finger to it, tenderly smoothing it away. ‘But I also think you’re interesting, funny and pretty cute. After all this time, go figure.’

His eyes sparked with delight, and she laughed. ‘I also think seeing as you’ve been kind enough to let me crash here for a bit, it’s only fair I cut you some slack.’

His answering smile could have lit up the whole of Melbourne. ‘I like the way you think.’

To prove it, he closed the short gap between them and kissed her.

Fireworks exploded in her head. Heat raced through her body. And the shield around her heart thawed and cracked as she recognised on an instinctive level that this kiss meant more than she could have possibly imagined.

She’d fooled herself into thinking she hadn’t missed him all these years. She’d been wrong. So wrong.

This was much more than a kiss, this timeless melding of two souls meant to be together, a kiss filled with hope and new beginnings. Gentle yet forceful, giving yet demanding, he kissed her with a precision that took her breath away.

As he cradled her head, his lips grazing hers with slow, seductive skill, she knew the explosion of mind-numbing need flowing through her had little to do with expertise and everything to do with the potent attraction still simmering between them after all this time.

They’d always been like this together. Lightning-fast, combustible sparks shooting between them: quick, hot, magical.

‘You’re smiling.’ He broke the kiss to pull back and look at her. ‘Either it means you’re really happy or my kissing technique needs a bit of work.’

Reaching up to lay a hand against his cheek, she smiled. ‘Your kissing technique is as good as ever.’

‘Okay, then, glad we got that sorted.’

His confident grin told her he knew exactly how talented he was in the kissing department and had probably been fishing for compliments.

‘You shaved.’ She ran her fingertips over his jaw, skimming the smooth skin, irrationally missing the stubble she loved so much.

‘You know it’s a lost cause. I’ll have half a beard again by the end of the night.’

‘I like it,’ she murmured, replacing her fingertips with her lips, grazing his cheek in the lightest, barest of kisses, inhaling deeply as she did so, her memory dancing with joy in recognition of his fresh, addictive scent.

‘You still have the power to drive me crazy.’

He turned his head a fraction to slant his mouth across hers in a slow, soul-drugging kiss that had her clinging to his shirt as if she was floundering out of her depth in a sea of desire.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

She broke the kiss with reluctance, her body telling her to go for it, her head telling her to take things slowly before they got in too deep too quickly.

‘How about we take it each day at a time?’

‘Each day, huh?’

Wriggling back on the sofa to put a little distance between them—she couldn’t think straight with his overpowering masculine presence in her personal space—she decided to give it to him straight.

‘I don’t want you to think me moving in here is agreeing to give us another chance. I’m not ready for that, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready. I understand your rationale for leaving, but that doesn’t mean I agree with it or what it did to us. You did what you thought was right at the time, but everything has changed now. I’ve changed…’ If he only knew how…

She shook her head, trying to read the expression on his face, coming up empty. ‘So if you’re happy to hang out as friends while I’m here that’s fine, but I’m not making any promises, okay?’

Something dark and mysterious shifted in his eyes before they crinkled at the corners, his smile a welcome sign he didn’t think she was completely batty.

‘Phew, that was some speech you just made. Don’t hold back or anything, will you?’

‘You know blunt is my middle name.’

‘Honesty is good,’ he said, but as his gaze dipped to where they held hands, she knew he was hiding something.

She’d worked in the hospitality industry her whole life, first in her parents’ coffee shop in Rainbow Creek, now in the Niche, and if there was one skill she’d developed besides making a great latte it was reading people.

Since he’d strolled into the Niche, he’d been nothing but open and straightforward, always meeting her eye, so what was with the sudden shift? Guess she’d soon find out, considering she’d agreed to live with him till her apartment was done.

Sheer and utter madness, yet she hadn’t felt this alive in a long, long time.

‘So you want to hang out with me, huh?’

His eyes gleamed with anticipation and she wondered if she’d imagined the whole evasion thing a second ago.

Tilting her chin, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, delighting in his tortured expression. ‘Absolutely.’

Leaning closer, he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and crooked his finger at her. ‘Well, here’s a thought.’

Smiling, she cupped a hand around her ear. ‘I’m listening.’

‘How about a date?’

‘Friends don’t date. And, besides, you’re pushing your luck, seeing as I’m already taking you to dinner.’

He laughed and capturing her hand, dragged it away from her ear to place a soft, hot kiss on her palm. The urge to curl her fingers over it was beyond tempting.

‘Dinner’s about this strong-willed woman demanding she pay me for services rendered. So, the way I see it, a date has the potential to be something else entirely.’

She gulped as a sizzle of anticipation licked along her veins, her pulse picking up speed in pace with her hopes.

Blane had the potential to light up her life again, to give her the buzz she’d been craving since he’d walked out a lifetime ago.

So why was she hesitating?

Kids.

It always came down to her inability to conceive and the ramifications of what that might have on any relationship she’d be foolish enough to enter. Though there was more to it this time, and she knew it.

Was it possible that, deep down, she knew letting him into her life for any length of time could tempt her to want more? Maybe have a marriage for real this time, despite what she couldn’t give him?

The thought terrified her, and her stomach backflipped with dread that she might be silly enough to make the same mistake twice.

But she wasn’t silly. She wasn’t the same person anymore. This time, maybe she’d get to have her tiramisu and eat it, too.

Leaping up from the sofa, she pulled him up with her. ‘Come on, let’s go have that dinner I owe you.’

He laughed. ‘Why the rush?’

‘The sooner we eat the sooner you get to convince me why I should let you take me out on a date.’

Smiling, he picked her up and whirled her around, and she flung her head back and laughed, relishing this amazing, carefree feeling.

He’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to marry him, though back then he’d spun her around so fast and for so long they’d both tumbled onto the cushiony moss at the foot of the old cedar tree, breathless and laughing and kissing, enchanted by the moment, so wrapped up in each other the world around them had ceased to exist.

He’d been her everything…before vanishing into nothing, and she’d be foolish to forget that, no matter how good it felt to laugh with him again.

He stopped, and she slid down his body, slowly and deliberately, soft cotton slithering against smooth silk, her skin tingling, yearning for full body contact, the shift from playful to lustful clear as his gaze riveted to hers.

‘How about next weekend for this date I’m going to persuade you to go on?’

‘I do the rosters quarterly, so I’m tied up every weekend for the next three months. The earliest weekend I’m free is June.’

‘That should give you plenty of time to get used to the idea.’

‘If you convince me, that is,’ she said, giving in to an impulsive, crazy urge to entwine her hands around his neck and drag his head down for a swift, passionate kiss, pulling away before she found herself in bed with him before the first date. Though technically that was probably allowed, considering it wouldn’t be the first time for either of them! ‘And believe me, I’m going to be a very hard sell.’

Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, ‘I think you know how persuasive I can be,’ before stepping away, offering her his hand and gesturing towards the door with the other.

As she slipped her hand into his, Camryn knew whatever he had in store for her, she didn’t stand a chance of refusing.