Книга - The Ceo’s Surprise Family

The Ceo's Surprise Family
Teresa Carpenter


A baby in his bachelor pad!Lexi Malone put her dreams aside to raise her friend’s daughter. Now the little girl she loves could be taken away! The only person who can help is the father, formidable CEO Jethro Calder.Committed bachelor Jethro doesn’t believe he can be the parent his daughter needs. To check that Lexi is, he makes her his temporary houseguest! Jethro could get used to having beautiful Lexi around but his difficult childhood has left scars…. Can this surprise family can show him what love is all about?







A baby in his bachelor pad!

Lexi Malone put her dreams aside to raise her friend’s daughter. Now the little girl she loves could be taken away! The only person who can help is the father, formidable CEO Jethro Calder.

Committed bachelor Jethro doesn’t believe he can be the parent his daughter needs. To check that Lexi is, he makes her his temporary houseguest! Jethro could get used to having beautiful Lexi around, but his difficult childhood has left scars... Can this surprise family show him what love is all about?


Lexi was about to wrangle a shark in his surf.

But she had no choice. He may well be Jazi’s father, and the only person with the power to grant her custody.

A confirmed bachelor, he’d stated in one article that he never intended to have a family. According to him, he took a satisfaction in his work that he’d never found in a relationship, so why force something that wasn’t meant to be?

Lexi hoped he believed what he said. Jazi’s and her futures rested in his hands. But she needed to confirm her hunch before she put her proposition to him.

She made her way to the bar, a room dressed in dark leather, light wood and shining crystal. And there he was. Seated at the end of the bar in a custom-made tuxedo that emphasized the broad reach of his shoulders, showcasing his tall, lean frame to perfection. His brooding expression kept everyone, including the bartender, at bay.

A shark surveying his territory, there was nothing subdued about him. His hair was nearly black, his eyes dark and piercing, though the color was indiscernible at this distance and angle. Features a shade too sharp to be considered classically handsome made him all the more compelling.


Dear Reader (#ulink_5ebbe794-5858-5cad-916d-f3f62e9d287c),

I’m very lucky to have a large, very supportive family. If you read me with any frequency, I’m sure that’s shown through in my stories, as family always plays a large part of my work. I am aware, however, that not all people are as lucky as me. Sometimes we have to make tough decisions to remove ourselves from harsh or unhealthy situations. Or step back so someone else can flourish.

These decisions don’t come easily. They require thought, courage, selfishness, sacrifice and the bravery necessary to take action. In The CEO’s Surprise Family, an executive faces tough decisions to the backdrop of glittering Las Vegas in a hotel designed after a game. In this world of flash and chance, he must choose whether to give up the daughter he never knew he had so she can have the life he never did, or go against the odds by accepting love in his life and scoring the biggest jackpot of all, a family of his own.

I hope you hear the cha-ching at the end.

Enjoy.

Teresa Carpenter


The Ceo’s Surprise Family

Teresa Carpenter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


TERESA CARPENTER believes that with love and family anything is possible. She writes in a Southern California coastal city surrounded by her large family. Teresa loves writing about babies and grandmas. Her books have been rated Top Picks by RT Book Reviews, and have been nominated Best Romance of the Year on some review sites. If she’s not at a family event, she’s reading or writing her next grand romance.


To my readers. Thank you for taking the time to find me and read me. And a warm hug to those who go to Amazon and Goodreads to leave reviews. You help other readers to find me. Bless you.


Contents

Cover (#ubf710abb-da72-5240-96a4-23d6603d05f5)

Back Cover Text (#uea881ea8-d641-54e7-81f9-5f5c29a706e2)

Introduction (#ub4f1e998-9744-5b9b-b328-1ec34116ab31)

Dear Reader (#ulink_191640ce-ddc8-5b88-ba67-c73bf0438809)

Title Page (#u002a41eb-6ee7-54af-8d6b-e066159a75ed)

About the Author (#u14920193-0508-590a-8579-69fce5390534)

Dedication (#u052cc343-a67d-50f7-87d1-772d06a43b30)

CHAPTER ONE (#u9d2f5581-8154-5ee6-8124-a0764a3323ed)

CHAPTER TWO (#ueb5b424a-e0fc-5c16-8be4-7f4281c597cb)

CHAPTER THREE (#uf229d02e-0614-5b37-abc8-c6492e2a5c48)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u61fcd958-c655-561c-99fd-ab611711ebed)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_aba66d64-1024-52b7-8926-789763c6a0d8)

LEXI MALONE’S HAND shook as she touched up her lip liner. She met her gaze in the gilded ladies’ room mirror and saw nerves reflected in the blue depths.

“For Jazi,” she breathed and capped the liner.

The reminder chased the shakes away. And most of the nerves. She’d do anything to get her twenty-three-month-old goddaughter back. Accosting a man in an upscale restaurant to determine if he was the child’s father was nothing. And it may not come to that. Tonight was a fact-finding mission.

At the theater where she’d used to dance strange men had approached her all the time. She’d learned to handle them long ago. Of course, the Golden Link was a well-respected private club at the Golden Cuff Casino and security had stood ready to protect her if things got out of control.

Here all the security belonged to Jethro Calder, a top executive of the Pinnacle Group, and owner of the restaurant she stood in. The Beacon mixed old-world elegance with modern efficiency and hearty fare. And it was housed in the Pinnacle Casino and Hotel where Calder had a penthouse suite.

She was about to wrangle a shark in his surf.

But she had no choice. He may well be Jazi’s father, and the only person with the power to grant her custody.

She’d done her homework once she realized his possible relationship to Jazi.

One of the “Fabulous Four” to take Pinnacle Enterprises to the top of the fiercely competitive world of digital gaming, Calder was known as the Dark Predator. Few went up against him without feeling his bite.

A confirmed bachelor, he’d stated in one article that he never intended to have a family. According to him, he took a satisfaction in his work that he’d never found in a relationship so why force something that wasn’t meant to be.

Lexi hoped he believed what he said. Jazi’s and her futures rested in his hands. But she needed to confirm her hunch before she put her proposition to him. She needed to see his birthmark for herself.

“So stop stalling.” She scolded her reflection, earning an odd look from the woman next to her at the vanity. She offered a small smile but the woman tucked her lipstick away and left the bathroom. “Good job, Lexi, you’re scaring the tourists.”

She sighed, fluffed up her shoulder-length red hair, lifted her chin and followed the woman out. “For Jazi.”

It seemed prophetic that today was Alliyah’s birthday. Lexi hoped it meant she’d be lucky. She made her way to the bar, a room dressed in dark leather, light wood and shining crystal. Alliyah, Lexi’s best friend and Jazi’s mother, had been a dancer too. Unlike Lexi, Alliyah had made extra money by being an executive escort. When men like Calder needed a date for an event, they called the service and Alliyah got an expensive night out on the town and earned the money to buy whatever she had her eye on, which could be anything from diapers to a new designer purse.

Sex was not part of the service. But occasionally Alliyah hooked up with her dates. Jazi was the result of one of those hookups. As soon as she’d found out she was pregnant Alliyah had quit the service. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been sure of whom the father was. Or more probably she hadn’t wanted to share Jazi. Whichever, she’d been closedmouthed about the baby’s father, even to Lexi. When she’d died in an automobile accident, her silence contributed to placing her daughter in foster care. A system Alliyah had despised, having bounced around in it for a good part of her youth.

Lexi supposed she could thank her mother for being spared that unpleasant experience. No, Lexi had longed for a little neglect in her childhood. Instead, every moment of every day had been structured, filled with practice, schooling, practice, regimented exercise, practice, scheduled meals, and more practice. All under the strict eye of her mother.

Oh, yeah, Lexi had prayed for time alone.

But that had been a lifetime ago. Now she just wanted custody of her goddaughter, and Jethro Calder was her ticket.

And there he was. Seated at the end of the bar in a custom-made tuxedo that emphasized the broad reach of his shoulders, showcasing his tall, lean frame to perfection. His brooding expression kept everyone, including the bartender at bay.

A shark surveying his territory, there was nothing subdued about him. His hair was nearly black, his eyes dark and piercing, the color indiscernible at this distance and angle. Features a shade too sharp to be considered classically handsome made him all the more compelling.

Pretending uninterest, she studied him in the mirror as she walked up to the bar. “A dirty Manhattan, please,” she ordered from the attentive bartender. She held her breath—no going back now. The drink order was a signal to Jethro Calder that she was his date from Excursions.

After reading the article, she’d contacted Sally Easton, the owner of Excursions. Lexi had met the older woman several times when Alliyah worked for her. Sally had even tried to recruit Lexi more than once. Lexi had explained she needed to talk to Calder about something important but when she tried going through his company she got passed on to a lower executive. Sally put Lexi off not wanting to jeopardize his business with Excursions. But today she’d got a call that Jethro Calder’s date had to cancel. Sally was giving her this one chance.

“May I buy that for you?” A man old enough to be her father slid onto the stool next to her and leaned into her space.

She controlled the urge to flinch away from him. Why did a miniskirt make men lose all sense of propriety? Before she could politely refuse his none-too-subtle come-on, a tuxedoed arm threaded between them and a deep male voice declared, “She’s with me.”

A strong hand settled over Lexi’s and Jethro Calder assisted her from her seat.

“You’re late,” he said.

She froze. Then forced herself to relax. She meant to observe him tonight, try to catch a glimpse of the birthmark on his wrist to confirm his link to Jazi and get to know him a little better before retreating to plan her next course of action.

“Right on time actually.”

Her gaze went to the mirror making sure no one spotted her for the fraud she was. No one appeared to be paying particular interest in them except a familiar brunette who was lovely but about ten years older than Calder, who she knew to be thirty-five. A cougar on the prowl?

“No way, Calder.” Her would-be suitor protested. “You’re always claiming the young, pretty ones. If she were with you, why didn’t she join you?”

Calder ignored the man. Instead he addressed the bartender, who arrived with her drink. “Sam, Madison’s tab is on the house tonight.”

“We’re having a bit of a tiff.” Lexi curled her arm around Calder’s. Hard muscles flexed under her fingers.

Slightly mollified by Calder’s generosity, Madison’s scowl deepened at her gesture. Not wanting his annoyance to turn to suspicion, Lexi grabbed the drink from the bar.

“There are lots of beautiful women here tonight.” She set the glass down in front of the brunette whose hair Lexi had styled less than an hour ago. With a smile she announced, “This gentleman would like to buy you a drink.”

The woman frowned. The man sputtered. And Calder led Lexi away.

“You’re late,” he repeated, his breath whispering over her ear, his deep voice shivering over her senses. A warm hand in the small of her back directed her to the elevator that would take them down one floor to the casino floor. “I’ll let it slide because watching you hand Madison’s ex-wife that drink was the most fun I’ve had all day.”

She eyed his solemn expression. This was him having fun?

“That was his ex-wife?” No wonder she seemed so interested in their interaction.

“Yes. She eats at the restaurant every Friday night after her spa treatment.”

“And he comes in every Friday night to pick up pretty young things in front of her?”

“Every week for the last six months.”

“People are strange.”

“You have no idea how strange until you’ve lived in a casino.”

“Believe me, working in a casino is as close as you need to get to see strange.” She’d learned that as a dancer. But that was in the past. Now she cut and styled hair, a day job so she could be at home with Jazi when she got custody.

His eyes narrowed on her. “You work in a casino?” They were a dark, twilight blue. Her heart pounded. She’d only ever seen one other person with eyes that color. Jazi had his eyes. She swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. She’d found Jazi’s father.

A hundred emotions rushed through her, love for her goddaughter, hope, fear, anticipation, trepidation. But she forced herself to concentrate on the conversation. “Hasn’t everyone who lives in Las Vegas worked at a casino at some point?”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he stated.

“I work at Pinnacle’s actually. At the Modern Goddess Salon.” She wasn’t surprised he didn’t know her. The spa rented the space. “Is that going to be a problem?”

His brows contracted and she realized he was actually thinking about it. He sighed. “No. It’s not a problem.”

“I was a last-minute replacement.” Lexi advised him, sticking as close to the truth as possible. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about where we’re going.”

“I never reveal the destination until we’re en route.”

Of course not. Everything she’d read on the man indicated he was a very private man. He walked with purpose and speed. Luckily her dancer’s grace allowed her to keep pace.

“Hmm. Kind of makes it hard to know how to dress.”

The fact he wore a tuxedo meant the occasion was formal. She tugged at the hem of her black minidress, hoping she met his requirements.

“I provided the information that it was a formal event.” His dark gaze ran over her, the intensity in the navy depths sent a shiver down her spine. “You’ll do.”

“Good to know.”

She’d gone with the classic little black dress. Wide band sleeves rested just off her shoulders and flowed to a vee in front showing off a hint of cleavage. The material clung to her curves in a loose fit, allowing her to move. It was more provocative than sexy. And because Lexi liked sparkle and shine, the fabric glimmered with every step she took.

The automatic doors swooshed open to the glittering entrance of the casino. There were lights and movement everywhere. People, cars, taxies and valets flowed in a ballet of arrival and exits backlit by a cascading water feature.

A car waited for them and a valet rushed over to get the door. “Good evening, Mr. Calder, Lexi.”

“Hi, Miguel, how’s the new baby?”

A huge grin lit up his face. “As pretty as her mama.”

“Miguel and his wife just had a baby girl a month ago,” Lexi told Calder. “Her name is Saralynn.”

There was no change to Calder’s expression, but he nodded at Miguel. “Congratulations. Lexi,” he gestured to the open door, “we have to get going.”

“Of course.”

Cold fish—check.

Strangely disappointed, she slid in and across the seat. When she glanced back, she saw Calder tip Miguel with a couple of hundred dollar bills. She perked up. Maybe not so cold after all. He joined her, his large body taking up most of the space. She suddenly felt crowded and overly warm. Definitely not cold now.

She might panic—if she were the type to panic—if he didn’t smell so good. No fancy cologne for him. He smelled of soap and man. And he made her mouth water.

Rein it in, girl, you’re on a mission here.

As a distraction, she focused on his generous gesture. It gave her a sense of hope. He’d stated in more than one article that he didn’t want kids or a family, that he didn’t have the patience or skill set for a long-term relationship so why set himself up for failure. Her plan rested on the fact he meant what he said, but it helped to know he wasn’t totally dispassionate about kids. She needed him to care enough to act.

“How do you know Miguel?”

Jethro ground his teeth, annoyed he let the question slip out.

How she knew the other man didn’t matter as long as she was a pretty armpiece and was able to intercede when required to redirect the conversation.

A task she should have no problem with since she’d been chattering ever since they met.

“Just from working at the Pinnacle. I’ve been at the spa now for a month. I like to talk to people so I’ve met a lot of the Pinnacle employees.”

Yes, he could see her as a people person. Where he was not.

“Miguel treated his wife to a day at the spa after Saralynn was born. I thought it was a wonderful gesture and suggested to the owner that she put together a package just for new mothers and publicize it throughout the casino and hotel. She agreed to give it a try. We’ve had quite a few women come in.”

“So you’re in marketing?”

“Oh, goodness, no. I’m a dan—a hairdresser.”

His head swung around and he rolled his gaze over her, accessing every curve. The escorts at Excursions were a mix of entertainers and professional businesswomen. He’d made it clear he preferred the latter. He had more in common with a businesswoman. And the one time he took a date to the next level had been with a dancer. He’d regretted the slip.

He preferred to keep his social and sexual encounters separate. He prized the discretion and privacy Excursions’ services provided. He liked that sex wasn’t part of the arrangement. The last thing he wanted was for the line between social and private to blur. That could only lead to complications and expectations he had no desire to deal with.

He never lacked for partners when he needed sexual release.

Casual dates with no promise of a follow-up were harder to come by until a friend recommended Excursions.

Having a new woman on his arm on a regular basis gave him the image of a player. He didn’t care. He wasn’t out to impress anyone and it gave warning to those who would expect more from him, all the better.

He’d made the mistake of sleeping with a date only once. She’d been a stunning woman of mixed race and he’d been out with her several times. Her intelligence and grace made him the envy of every man at the foundation dinner they’d attended. He’d been receiving an award and drank more than usual to offset the attention. Being in the limelight tore at his nerves but his date thrived on it. She’d been the perfect person to have on his arm that night and the high of the event had carried them upstairs when she made her interest clear.

Alliyah was gone in the morning and the next time he contacted Excursions he asked for a professional woman so he hadn’t seen her again.

Excursions’ quality control was slipping if they’d sent him a dancer. And he didn’t even have her name beyond Miguel’s addressing her as Lexi. He usually got notice and a new profile when he was getting a replacement date. He liked to know something about the women he spent time with even when he paid for the pleasure. He sent off a text.

“A dancer.” He repeated.

“No. I told you, I work at Modern Goddess. I used to be a dancer.” She licked her lips drawing his attention to the sultry lines of her mouth, the perfect bow over a plump bottom lip. “Now I do hair at the spa. I just thought pampering a new mother totally made sense. I remembered how tired and stressed my roommate was after having my goddaughter, Jasmine.”

“Hmm. What’s your name?”

“Oh, goodness.” She laughed—an infectious sound that filled the back of the car. “We kind of skipped that part, didn’t we? I’m Alexa Malone, but you can call me Lexi. And of course you’re Jethro Calder. I read the article in the Pinnacle newsletter where it showed you and the other executives holding up the lifetime award of excellence for the Pinnacle game. That must have been exciting.”

“Yes, it was a nice acknowledgment for the success of the game.”

“I should say so. A top ten seller for ten years, that’s awesome.”

“It’s actually been for fifteen years and more than half those years it was in the top three, but they wanted to have wiggle room for future awards.”

“What’s it like working with Jackson Hawke?”

He frowned. He got that question a lot, mostly from people trying to angle through him to Jackson. But there was nothing in her tone or demeanor to indicate anything other than simple interest.

“He’s a brilliant programmer, but he leaves the finances to me.”

“Of course.” She nodded and pointed at him.

She used her hands a lot when she talked. He couldn’t decide if he found it charming or annoying. Whether he found her charming or was just attracted to that luscious mouth.

“We all have our talents, don’t we? Mine is music. So, Jethro, where are we going?”

Music, he noticed, not dance.

“We’re going to an event at Caesar’s Palace.” His phone buzzed and he read the text. “At least I am. I’m not sure what you’ll be doing.” He held up his phone. “Excursions doesn’t have your name on file. Who are you?”


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_5aed061e-ac1a-5b87-a8db-7949aff744fe)

OOPS. LEXI BLINKED at Jethro. She’d been caught out. She shifted her gaze to the phone he held aloft as evidence of her culpability and her eyes went wide.

The position of his arm caused his suit and shirtsleeves to slip down revealing his wrist and the tip of the birthmark. Enough for her to see it matched Jazi’s.

The mark reminded Lexi of a dragonfly with a curled tail only kind of blotchy. She’d been stunned when she saw it on Calder’s wrist in the picture accompanying the article she told him about. The top execs of Pinnacle had all been holding the award aloft. Calder had been standing closest to the camera and there on his wrist was the same birthmark as her precious Jazi’s.

Lexi had known instantly that he had to be related to the baby, most likely her father. When she’d read his stance on never having a family, she firmly believed it was a sign. With his help she could get Jazi back.

Between the matching eyes and the birthmark, Lexi had all the confirmation she needed that Jethro Calder was Jazi’s father.

“Ms. Malone?” Fingers snapped in front of her eyes.

She blinked and focused on the man next to her, staring into his unreadable features, into Jazi’s blue eyes. Thoughts of how important he was flooded her mind, crippling her with fear. If she blew this she’d never get Jazi back! And she was about to blow it. Big-time.

Stop. Get a grip.

She drew in a slow, deep breath, released it around a sheepish smile. She only had one option now. She looked him right in the eye and confessed. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I don’t usually work for Excursions.”

A dark brow lifted at her easy admission. “So you were just at the restaurant to shanghai a date with me?”

“Oh, gracious, no.” Now his other brow lifted. Had she offended him? She half shrugged. Best to stick as close to the truth as possible without getting Excursions in trouble. “Today was my best friend Alliyah’s birthday. She used to go to work for Excursions. She passed away six months ago and I needed a distraction tonight, so I called Sally and asked if she could hook me up with a date. She said she had a cancellation and here I am.”

“A cancellation?” Suspicion dripped from the question.

“Yes. You can call her if you like.” Lexi held her breath—the last thing she wanted was to cause trouble for Sally.

“You recognized me.”

“Yes, from the article. Why, did you know Alliyah? Alliyah West?”

He looked away, but nodded. “We had a couple of dates. You said she passed away.”

“She was killed in an auto accident just over six months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. She was a charming companion.”

Lexi glanced out the window and saw they were cruising along the dazzling Las Vegas Strip. “So listen, I’m sorry I’m not what you were expecting. You can let me out anywhere along here. I’ll catch a cab back to the Pinnacle.” She batted her eyelashes at him in an obvious ploy. “Unless you still need a date for the evening?”

“Now you’re propositioning me?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know you can be a bit of a stuffed shirt. You might want to watch that. I’m offering—free of charge—to go with you to whatever thing you have going on so you don’t have to find a replacement date.”

“You’re willing to spend the evening with a stuffed shirt?”

“Hey, I’ve been out with worse. At least you smell good and have a nice ride. But if you’re not interested, just have the driver pull over and drop me off.”

“Let’s say I agree to allow you to accompany me, I’d prefer to pay you for your time.”

Lexi blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because I prefer to keep our association on a professional level.”

“You want me to cut your hair?” She said it just to rile him. The man had no sense of humor. Or sense of fun.

“What?” His brows drew together in a scowl. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“Because I’m a cosmetologist and my profession is to cut hair.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His shoulders were razor sharp against the black leather seat. “More, you know it wasn’t.”

“You’re right, I’m messing with you, but you deserve it for being so pompous.”

“A stuffed shirt and now pompous,” he muttered.

“They’re nearly the same thing. And obviously your comfort zone.”

“I merely wish to keep things clear.”

“Oh, I get the point. It wouldn’t be a date.”

“That is correct. And as I value my time, I feel it only fair to pay you for yours.”

“Very gracious of you.”

He sighed and relaxed slightly.

“But forget it.” She patted his knee and flashed a bright smile. “We’ll just go as friends.”

He practically choked on his own breath. “We are not friends. I barely know you.”

“Sometimes people just click and are friends for life.”

“There was no click.”

“We even have a history.” She talked right over him. “We both knew Alliyah, were friends of hers.” If anyone needed a friend, it was this man. He was so cut off from everyone around him. For some reason, Lexi felt compelled to be there for him tonight. Perhaps because he was Jazi’s father or maybe just because she hated to see anyone so alone. “Close enough, don’t you think?”

His hand closed over hers on the seat. “You miss her very much don’t you?”

Tears threatened. She nodded, and without thought turned her hand over in his to give his hand an answering squeeze. “It would be payment enough to spend the evening with someone who knew her.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He pulled away from her. “As long as it’s understood that it’s not a date.”

“Understood. There will be no good-night kiss.”

He gave a shake of his head. “I may be a stuffed shirt, Ms. Malone, but you are outrageous.”

“Huh. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He dropped his head forward as if he’d reached the end of his patience, but she thought she saw just the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

“The event at Caesar’s Palace is an art showing at the Maxim Gallery.”

Interest flared in her bright blue eyes. “Oh, that sounds like fun. I’ve heard of the Maxim. I’ll warn you, though, that I know nothing about art.”

“There’s no need for you to have knowledge of art.” Jethro assured her.

He was still wondering at himself for allowing her to join him at the opening. It was unlike him to make impulsive decisions. And he didn’t reward dishonesty. She may be from Excursions, but she was unlike any of his previous dates. And a former dancer. That alone should have been enough to drop her off along the strip as she’d urged him to do.

But there was a lightness about her that appealed to him, a genuineness that intrigued his jaded soul.

Outrageous was an understatement. No one talked to him like she did. Stuffed shirt? Pompous? He’d fire anyone who dared say such a thing. It didn’t matter that it was the truth. That he worked hard to maintain a hand’s distance from everyone around him. He wouldn’t be disrespected.

Coming from her it rang of the truth, plainly spoken.

“Good. Because my art appreciation is limited to knowing what I like, which could be anything from a good Elvis painting to a portrait of an old woman smiling. And I never know if there’s any importance attached to the piece.”

“Well, it’s highly doubtful there’s any significance to a velvet Elvis painting.”

Soft laughter trilled through the air. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “I know that much, silly. But he was a huge contributor to the music world and I like the colors. When I look at the painting, I like to think he found peace.”

So did Jethro. Elvis was a favorite artist of his. One more thing linking him to this woman when the softness of her was already too dangerous. She didn’t fit in either of the two categories he allowed in his life.

“So you don’t believe he’s living a secret life somewhere?”

“No.” Sadness briefly dimmed the animation of her delicate features. “Much as I’d like to believe he’s still with us, music was too much a part of his soul for him to stay undetected all these years. He’d have to perform, and if he performed he’d be found.”

Disconcerted because he held the same belief, he went on the offensive.

“How old are you?” he asked derisively. “Twenty-three? Twenty-four? You’re too young to be an Elvis fan.”

“Please, great music transcends age. And I’m twenty-seven. Old enough to know my own mind.”

Not as young as he’d feared—or should that be hoped? Against his better judgment, he’d decided to indulge himself tonight and enjoy a bit of light company, but having a few elements that put her beyond his strict restrictions would be helpful.

“We’re here.” The car rolled to a smooth stop. Jethro pushed the door open and stepped out.

“Good evening, Mr. Calder.” A valet immediately appeared to greet him. “Welcome back to Caesar’s Palace.”

“Thank you. We’re here for the Kittrell showing.”

“Very good, sir. We’ve had a steady stream of arrivals for the showing tonight.”

“That’s good to hear.” Jethro tipped the young African American before extending a hand to assist Lexi from the car.

“Sean!” she exclaimed and gave the valet a warm hug. “I’m glad to see you’re back in town. How is your mother?”

Sean shifted, uncomfortable under Jethro’s stern regard, but the smile he turned on Lexi was full of warmth. “On her feet again. The knee surgery was just what she needed to get her pep back.”

“I’m glad to hear it. She’s too young to be sitting on the couch. You tell her I said hi.”

“I will. And I want to hear what’s going on with you.” Sean discreetly nodded in Jethro’s direction. “We’ll talk soon.”

“Yes, I’m off to view art.” She glanced his way, and Jethro absorbed the impact of her laughing eyes. “See you soon.” She bid her friend goodbye and made her way to his side.

He claimed her hand. “Do you know every valet in Las Vegas?”

“I know a lot. For all the tourists, Las Vegas is a small town. At least when it comes to the world of entertainers. Valeting is a common way to pick up extra money or pay the bills between jobs.”

“I see.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No.”

“Something’s bothering you,” she insisted. “Does it upset you that I stopped to speak to them? Because it would be rude to ignore the fact I know them.”

“It’s their job to provide discrete service and fade into the background. I’m sure they respect the dynamics of the job.”

“You’re saying it’s okay to be rude.”

“I’m saying, they’re working.”

“So you’re a snob.”

He sighed. “I’m not a snob. I just like getting where I’m going without a lot of meaningless chitchat.”

“It wasn’t meaningless.” She protested. “I was genuinely interested in how his mother was doing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” She easily kept stride with him as he led her toward the famous Caesar shopping mall.

“The point is it’s rude to be making a fuss over other men when you’re out with a man.”

“But we’re not on a date.” She reminded him with a tad more satisfaction than he cared for.

“We’re together. That’s what counts.”

“So it’s okay for me to be rude to them, but not to you?”

“Correct. No. Stop messing with me. You’re giving me a headache.”

She grinned, obviously pleased to be called on her teasing. “If you loosened up a bit, you wouldn’t get headaches.”

“Woman, you are a headache.”

“Ah, you say the nicest things. Oh, it’s the thunderstorm. I love this. Do we have time to watch?”

Without waiting for a response she skipped—yes, skipped—forward to perch on the stone bench of a fountain. He found himself following her, taking satisfaction in indulging her delight. She patted the space next to her inviting him to sit.

Suddenly an uncertain expression crossed her face and she popped to her feet. “Sorry—my oops. I know you want to get where you’re going.”

“Sit. Enjoy your show.” He sat. “And when we get to the showing, you can do something for me.”

“Ah.” She resumed her perch, her knee touching his, her gaze focused above on the changing skyscape of the indoor mall. The sunny day had darkened to gray clouds with flashes of lightning. “The job your dates perform for you.”

The comment annoyed him. So what if he wanted his companions to provide a service while they were with him. He paid good money for their company. And tipped well.

“You really are a pest. If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

“Don’t be so touchy.” She bumped his shoulder. “Ah.” A gasp escaped her pretty lips when thunder boomed in the background adding audio to the overhead show. “I do love a good thunderstorm. I don’t get how all these people can walk by as if nothing is happening right over their heads.”

“Maybe they’ve seen it before. Or they’re caught up in the moment or the conversation. Or simply need to be somewhere.” Personally he couldn’t remember the last time he’d paused to notice the movement of the mock sky in the shopping mall. He had to admit it was pretty cool. It certainly added to the overall effect of a Roman city.

“What have you got?”

“I’m thinking this might be something to consider for Pinnacle for our next revamp. We could have simulated battle scenes.”

“Oh, and flames like the city is burning. With the postapocalyptic theme you could do all kinds of things with the skyscape, extreme sunsets and meteor storms, flash floods. You could even bring it down on the walls though that might compete with the casino action.”

“The tourists would love it. It would give them the sense of being in the game even more than the decor does now.”

He liked the creative way she thought. All tossed out so artlessly. Right. In his experience, nothing, not even ideas, were given away free. She wanted something.

He’d bet his life on it.

Above them, blue skies began to ease out the clouds and lightning. Lexi stood and smoothed her dress over her hips.

“It’s a great idea, but what I was actually asking is what would you like me to do for you at the party?”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e1a67009-f418-5d8b-8f2e-8c8a8c308a32)

PARTY? BLAST IT. In order to get his mind functioning again, Jethro dragged his gaze up to her face, not daring to linger on the intriguing hint of cleavage or her luscious lower lip.

She meant the showing. He’d almost lost his desire to attend the event tonight. But as owner of the gallery and the artist’s patron it would look bad if he didn’t at least put in an appearance. Plus, he believed in the man’s talent.

He and his friends made a great team evidenced by their huge success with Pinnacle. Yet the last few years, he’d felt compelled to prove he could succeed on his own. The gallery, like the restaurant, was his attempt at diversification.

“It’s nothing too difficult.” He stood, his hand going to the small of her back as he directed her along. “As a high-ranking officer at one of the premier entertainment conglomerates in the world, I get approached by a lot of people with ideas for the next best whatever. I’d like you to run interference for me.”

“I can see where that would get old.” Sympathy shone from eyes the color of the pastoral sky above. “Sure, I can handle that. Tell me about the artist.”

“He takes parts of photographs, layers them together and breathes life into them with an editing software he created. The end result is stunning, the colors vivid.”

“I can’t wait to see his work. It sounds unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

Jethro must be impressed with the artist. Talking about him was the most animated she’d seen him all night. Though, to be fair, he had loosened up from his stuffed-shirt status by allowing her to watch the sky show and by sharing his thoughts about revamping the Pinnacle.

At the gallery the crowd overflowed into the mall.

“Well, I’d say the showing is a success.” Lexi wrapped her arm around Jethro’s to keep from being separated from him. “And it’s such a crush nobody’s going to hear anyone in here. I don’t think you need to worry about being approached by any wannabe gamesters.”

He grunted. “You underestimate the zealousness of programmers, songwriters and other assorted artists the world over. A crowd like this just allows them the opportunity to get up close and personal.”

Actually she knew full well the zealousness of artists. No one knew better than her how one-dimensional they could be when it came to their art.

“Maybe it’s your warm personality,” she suggested.

She grinned when she received an arch stare over his shoulder. “You like to live dangerously don’t you?”

“Sorry. I can’t seem to resist.” And she should. Her every action counted toward the future and his willingness to help her. But she’d been restrained for too many years not to be herself at all times. Plus, who knew he’d be so fun to tease? Or turn out to be such a good sport? “Take heart, you’re bearing up under the challenge.”

Right inside the door hung a huge picture that was gorgeous. A tropical location brought to life in vibrant colors. The nose of a small plane bobbed in the cove and on the beach a gazebo with fluttering curtains housed a table, chairs and a meal awaiting missing lovers. To the side of the print were a picture of a lagoon, the plane and a gazebo. The title was Escape.

“I love it,” Lexi breathed. “Don’t you just want to be there?”

“It’s inviting.”

“Inviting? If that’s all you’ve got, I’m going to have to find someone else to go with.”

“Someone with a sense of adventure,” a man said behind her.

“Yes.” She agreed, moving to include the tall, stylishly dressed man. He had long dark hair, green eyes and a confidence he wore as comfortably as his fitted jacket. “And a sense of romance. Someone with a thirst for life.”

“Exactly the mood I was going for.” The man grinned and held out his hand. “I’m Ethan Kittrell.”

“Ethan is the artist.” Jethro shook hands as he introduced Lexi.

“Calder, I’m glad you made it. And for bringing such a lovely companion.”

“Are you flirting with my companion, Ethan?” There was no emotion in the question, which only served to make it more menacing.

As if she belonged to him. Not likely. She’d fought hard for her freedom. And wasn’t he the one to insist this wasn’t a date?

But truthfully she wasn’t even tempted by the handsome artist. For all his eccentric cleverness, he paled next to the sheer presence of Jethro Calder.

Good thing this wasn’t a date. Because, her independence aside, she’d be way out of her element.

No, tonight was make-believe, just an opportunity to observe him in his world. Which meant she could be herself. As long as she didn’t alienate him, she could relax and have fun.

“Not tonight, I’m not.” Ethan held up his hands in surrender and shifted ever so subtly away from her. “Just a little harmless admiration for a beautiful woman. I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset my patron.”

“Wise move.” Jethro directed her farther into the gallery, pausing to study each new piece they came to.

Patron? No wonder he’d been hot to get here. A patron to the arts, hmm, seemed there were unexpected depths to Mr. Jethro Calder. Still, being a patron was no excuse to be rude.

“Pay no attention to him.” She rolled her eyes at Ethan. “He’s still learning his people skills.”

“Sweet thing, people use skills on him not the other way around.”

“So he tells me.” She surveyed Jethro’s profile, and observed the pinch at the corner of his eye, a sure sign he hated them talking about him. This was a big night for him as well as Ethan. “He practically gushed while describing your work.”

“I have never gushed in my life.”

“You were quite animated. With good reason. I love, love, love these pieces.” She leaned in close to a picture of an old firehouse with a clock tower. Beside it were photos of a barn, a fire truck and a watch with exposed gears. “Is it a stippling effect?”

“Very perceptive. I’m a master of shadows.”

“Really? Shadows.” She stepped back and looked at the picture again.

A hand at her waist drew her in front of Jethro. He followed the line of the fire truck with his finger. “The shadows disguise the layering and add depth and dimension.” He spoke right in her ear, his breath blowing over the sensitive skin. She shivered and fought the urge to lean back against him.

“Yes. I can see the shadows are key.”

“Ethan, there you are. And Jethro, you finally made it. Excellent.” A woman with pale skin, black sharp-edged hair and bright red lips swept up to them. She wore a black suit that flowed around a reed-thin body. Hooking her arms through each of the men’s, she led them away. “The press are here. Time to make nice.”

Lexi followed as best she could considering the crowd quickly closed around her now she didn’t have the almighty Jethro Calder with her. When she got cut off, she decided to look around at more of the art. The woman obviously worked for the gallery and it sounded like Jethro would be busy for a few minutes, so he shouldn’t miss her.

As she strolled around, she encountered several people she knew. The director of her last dance review at the Golden Link and his wife, a pit boss from Pinnacle and his partner, and a client of hers from Modern Goddess. She chatted briefly with each making sure to talk up the artist; she even influenced a sale with the director.

She kept her eye on Jethro in case her duties were needed but the dark-haired woman, whom she’d learned was Lana, the gallery manager, guarded him like a lioness with her cub. No wannabes were getting through her.

Ethan found Lexi by the buffet table.

“Hey, I’ve been racking up sales for you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He grabbed one of the fancy bottles of water. “And I’m glad I caught you alone.”

“Ah-ah.” She shook her finger at him. “You promised Jethro no flirting.”

“He’s who I want to talk to you about. I want to thank him for his patronage by giving him one of the pictures. I thought you could help me choose one for him.”

“Oh, goodness. We really haven’t known each other that long.”

“Maybe not, but you obviously have his number. And he likes you.”

What an interesting comment. She wondered what made him think so. She laughed. “I think we both have you fooled.”

“No.” Ethan shook his head, his green gaze serious. “As a photographer and an artist, I’ve learned to read people. I’ll admit Jethro is tough to get a read on because he doesn’t show much emotion. Most people don’t even try unless they want something from him.”

“That’s just sad.” She dismissed a pang of guilt. He couldn’t miss what he didn’t know he had.

“Yes.” Ethan sipped the expensive water. “But it’s a persona he fosters. He doesn’t let people close.”

“You’re just proving my case.”

“I’m proving my case. Because you see the man. You recognized his excitement for my work. You tease him.” He shook his head. “Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone talk to him the way you do. And he takes it. That’s how I know he likes you.”

Okay, he’d made a couple of good points, but Lexi still wasn’t convinced. She’d love for Jethro to like her. It could only help her case, make him predisposed to help her. But the evidence seemed pretty flimsy to her.

“That and the way he looks at you. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”

Of course the comment had her searching out Jethro, and sure enough he looked right at them even as he talked with an elderly Japanese couple. She waved and he cocked a dark brow.

“This should really be your choice.” She told Ethan.

“I’d still like your help.” He insisted.

“Okay, but I should get back to him soon.”

“This won’t take long,” he assured her. “And he’s busy taking care of business so we have time.”

“Business? You mean patron stuff?”

“No. He doesn’t have to do much with that except praise my work.”

Uh-oh. She sought him out again. Had she misread the Japanese couple? Could they be overeager gamesters she should be saving him from?

“He’s dealing with boring owner stuff.” Taking her arm Ethan led her to the first picture. It already had a red dot indicating it had been sold. “There’s plenty of time for you to help me.”

“I didn’t know Jethro owned the gallery. Is he going to be moving it to the Pinnacle?”

“He hasn’t mentioned any plans to do so. And it has a following here, so I wouldn’t think so.”

Interesting. Calder was associated so closely with Pinnacle, she found it difficult to think of him branching out to other casinos. But then Pinnacle wasn’t just a casino but part of a huge entertainment conglomerate. The company started out creating and distributing video games. The hotel and casino were decorated based off the first game, a postapocalyptic world where everyone fought to survive.

The diversification made her wonder if he might be considering breaking away from Pinnacle. When she got the time, she’d have to think of what that might mean to her plans.

“Has Jethro shown an interest in any particular piece?” she asked Ethan. “That might be a place to start.”

“Good idea. Let me think.” He stopped and propped his hands on his hips. His gaze ran over his work displayed on the walls. “No. He’s shown general appreciation but not for any specific piece. As I said, Jethro doesn’t give up a lot about himself. That’s why I was hoping you could help.”

Lexi spied a picture of a smoking cigar in a crystal ashtray next to a bottle of aged bourbon in the forefront of an old-fashioned parlor. The colors were muted but powerful. She thought of the old-world elegance of Jethro’s restaurant and knew he would appreciate the piece.

“That one.” She nodded toward the painting. “It would fit nicely in his restaurant so it’s something he’ll like.”

Ethan considered the painting and then nodded. “You’re right. It fits him. Let me grab it before someone buys it. Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on her head and strolled off.

“He’s still making moves on my date,” Jethro drawled close to her ear. “I might have to have a talk with him.”

Lexi jumped and swirled around. “Geez, how long have you been there?”

“I just walked up. Why? Something happen you don’t want me to know about?”

“Nope. You startled me, is all.” Looking to divert his attention from Ethan, she gestured to the crowd. “You must be pleased. Ethan told me you own the gallery.”

“It’s a recent acquisition.”

“Calder.” Her former director and his wife came up to them. They made a stunning older couple. “You’re doing a great job here at the gallery. Ethan Kittrell is quite a find.”

“Thomas and Irene.” Jethro offered his hand to the couple. “Thanks for coming. We’re always pleased to provide something unique for our collectors.”

“Indeed. Irene fell in love with a couple of prints we’ll be taking off your hands.”

“Irene, I’ve always admired your taste.”

The older woman beamed under his approval. “And you’ve redeemed my opinion of yours when it comes to women. Oh, I know how you young men like to play the field, but I hope you realize what a treasure you have in this girl.”

“You know Lexi.” Jethro’s expression went blank.

Oops. Time to do her job. He was either insulted, and trying to find a nice way to tell a good client to mind her own business. Or counting to ten before blasting her, with no consideration of future relations.

“Irene, you’re going to make me blush.” Lexi interceded before Jethro could react. “There’s actually nothing romantic going on. Jethro knew Alliyah and today was her birthday. We’re just celebrating her together this evening.” She smiled through the sadness. “She would have loved this.”

“Oh, my dear.” Sympathy filled Irene’s brown eyes. “She would indeed. My apologies, Jethro. Such a tragedy to lose her so young. Do you know how her—”

“Family is doing?” Lexi quickly interrupted before Irene could mention Alliyah had a daughter. “Yes. Everyone misses Alliyah terribly but we’re doing as well as can be expected.”

“Good, that’s good. She’s lucky to have had you for a friend. You let us know if we can do anything.”

“Absolutely,” Thomas confirmed. “And remember, you’re welcome back with the troupe anytime you want.”

“Thank you both. You have a good evening now.” She gave them both a peck on the cheek and sent them on their way.

“Sorry about that.” She patted Jethro on the arm. “But no harm done.”

She hoped not anyway. She wanted to be the one to tell Jethro about Jazi. To gauge his reaction and sway him to her cause. He was a sharp guy; she didn’t want him to be wondering about a child in Alliyah’s life and start counting down the months.

“What are you after?”

“What?”

Jethro’s firm grip on her arm gave her no option but to join him in a dimly lit hallway.

“Hey.” She tried to shake her arm loose, but he held on.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m Lexi.”

“How is it that you know everyone?”

“I don’t know everyone. That’s crazy.” She pulled against his grip. “You’re hurting me.” Not really, but he had her unnerved and that was close enough.

“Quit squirming and it won’t hurt.” His fingers loosened but he retained his hold, forcing her to follow him down the hall.

“Let me go and I’ll quit squirming.”

He opened the door of a well-appointed office. It had a feminine feel and Lexi guessed it belonged to Lana, the gallery manager.

Jaw clenched, he released her. Then frowned at the red marks on her skin. “Your skin is too delicate.”

She rubbed her arm singeing him with a reproachful glare. “Apology accepted.”

She dropped into a visitor’s chair and crossed her legs.

“Sorry,” he muttered belatedly, grudgingly. He sat on the edge of the desk. “Now tell me how you know so many people. I saw you talking with people all over the gallery.”

“Just because I talked to people doesn’t mean I know them. Is this about me not protecting you from the madding crowd? You seemed fine whenever I glanced your way.”

“Mocking me will not save you. Answer the question.”

“Save me?” She laughed.

He didn’t.

“You targeted me, Ms. Malone. I want to know why.”


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_762d1faf-c1d9-5831-bcff-fa4624d7a903)

LEXI PUSHED THROUGH her front door, slammed it shut behind her and threw the bolts. Unable to shake the sense of being pursued, she backed away.

Pull it together, girl. The man had better things to do than chase her down.

After Jethro dropped his question bomb, she’d slipped out when Lana and Ethan walked in carrying the piece Ethan had chosen for Jethro.

Best timing ever.

Okay, she’d panicked.

She hadn’t been prepared for his questions.

In the bedroom she grabbed a nightgown—a lavender bit of silk edged in black lace—and headed into the bathroom for a shower. She’d bolted. What else could she do? He thought she was some femme fatale intent on getting something from him.

And, in a way, she was.

He’d been so intense she didn’t know if she’d ever be prepared to face off against him.

But she would. For Jazi.

Lexi clung to the fact he gave Miguel a healthy tip when he learned of his new baby. It showed he had some sensitivity for kids. Right?

During the cab ride home she’d decided she needed to call tomorrow and make an appointment with Jethro. She’d see him before she went into work and get this all straightened out.

Stepping under the spray, she rinsed her hair, letting the hot water soothe her. As plans went, it lacked finesse and relied heavily on his willingness to see her again. But what she’d learned of him tonight told her an up-front, honest approach was her best bet.

All the things she could say filtered through her head as she dried off and applied a tropical-scented lotion in honor of Ethan’s Escape painting. The silk of her nightgown glided over her skin in a sensual fall, ending at midthigh. She continued to ruminate while combing and drying her hair. The thick auburn tresses were still damp when she thought she heard a knock on her door.

Flipping off the hairdryer, she listened and the knocking came again. She wrinkled her nose. The last thing she needed tonight was the distraction of a friend coming over for gossip and coffee, something dancers liked to do. Since she’d left the troupe, she often had people dropping by.

Or maybe that’s exactly what she needed. To just get out of her head and focus on someone else for a while. By the time she reached the door, she was ready to embrace whoever stood on the other side.

She swung the door wide. “Hell...’’

Bug-eyed, she stared at Jethro Calder.

“What? How?”

His navy eyes swept over her darkening to near black by the time his gaze met hers. Who knew black could show such heat? He stepped forward, crowding her.

Instinctively she backed away.

He kept coming and she kept retreating until he cleared the threshold. He closed the door behind him.

“Are you crazy?” he demanded. “You don’t answer the door without knowing who’s on the other side.” His gaze made another journey over her as he continued to stalk her. “Especially dressed like that.

“How are you here?” She meant it as an accusation. It came out in a whisper as she continued to dodge his pursuit. She hit a chair and sidestepped.

“Does it matter?” He caught her elbow when she tripped over the ottoman and nearly landed on her rump. “You wanted me and, sunshine, you’ve got me.” Lifting her to her toes, he lowered his head and slanted his lips over hers.

Her hands landed on his chest ready to push him away. But oh, my...

For all his ferocity, when his mouth took hers, there was no anger, no punishing assault on her senses, nothing but pure passion, undiluted desire. The soft pressure of his lips lured her into opening to him.

Oh, he took, with a seductive demand that had her lifting farther onto her toes and looping her arms around his neck. Her mind was lost, transferring the cadence of his touch to notes in her head. Grip, glide, soft, firm, thrust, nip—the heat built in body and melody to a place she’d never been before.

He whispered erotic threats and words were added to the song in her head.

As she floated on sensation, he became her rock, hard, solid, grounded. His arms were a haven of safety and the orchestrators of the sensation and rhythm surging through her.

She wanted more. Now. More of his taste, more of his touch, more of his heat. More.

And then her knees hit up against something and she sat. She blinked and her bedroom came into focus. He’d moved them down the hall and into her room without her even noticing they were moving.

Eyes liquid with arousal, he watched her as he unbuttoned his shirt. He’d lost his jacket somewhere along the trek to the bedroom.

And OMG, she’d lost her nightgown. She sat in front of him in nothing more than a rosy blush of need.

Sanity came rushing back with a roar.

“Stop. Whoa.” Grabbing the edge of her sunny yellow comforter, she wrapped it around herself. She wasn’t modest, a dancer couldn’t afford the luxury, but she felt too exposed under his ravenous regard. “I’m sorry, but this is not going to happen.”

His fingers froze on the last connected button. “Excuse me?” Dark brows lowered in a fierce scowl.

Intimidating, much? Oh, yeah.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. And she meant it. He’d just lit her up like a torch in every way imaginable, body, mind, soul. And he couldn’t be more off-limits if he were the Pope. “This isn’t what I intended when I sought you out.”

If anything the scowl deepened. “Explain.”

The demand was nearly a growl. It occurred to her she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. She’d been in his arms, felt his body resonate with hers. He’d never hurt a woman. Not physically anyway. He had too much control. But there were worse ways he could make her pay. Her mind raced. This needed to be handled carefully.

Feeling at a disadvantage, she inched to the side and stood up. He stepped back giving her some room. She breathed in relief. “I’d prefer to get dressed for this conversation if you don’t mind.”

It wasn’t a question and still he looked ready to protest, a signal to her that he was in charge of what happened here. Never mind it was her apartment. Clearly the man was used to being in command wherever he went. Finally, he gave a brief nod and left the room.

Okay, in no way did his silence reassure her. Anger defined the rigid line of his shoulders as he strode away.

“There’s wine in the refrigerator and glasses in the cupboard to the right,” she called out, then bit her lip. This wasn’t a date, but she knew if he left, she’d lose all chance of ever talking to him.

Ready or not the time had come to plead her case.

She grabbed clothes from the dresser and hurried into them, soft gray sweats and a baby-blue sweater cropped at the waist. In the bathroom she tamed her hair into a ponytail and noticed the pants clung to the curves of her butt and the sweater played peekaboo with her belly button. Dang. Time didn’t allow for another change.

Tugging at the hem of the sweater she went to wrangle the shark in her living room.

He leaned against the counter of her kitchen island, sipping a glass of wine. His dark gaze ran over her making her senses tingle.

“You have five minutes,” he stated in that near growl that just added to his effect on her body.

Ignoring the urges she could never act on, she helped herself to some wine. She perched on one of the bar stools at the island and took a sip.

“Four minutes. Don’t try my patience, Ms. Malone.”

“I really wanted to do this differently. I was going to come by your office—” She slanted him a wry glance and reached for a picture frame at the end of the counter. Handing it to him, she said softly, “Alliyah had a daughter. Her name is Jasmine. She’s twenty-three-months-old.”

He refused to accept the picture, didn’t even glance at it. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You said I targeted you. This is why. In the article I read about Pinnacle, there was a picture included. You and the other executives were holding up the award. I saw your birthmark.”

One dark brow lifted. “You targeted me because of my birthmark?”

So cool, so unaffected when her whole life weighed in the balance.

“Yes.” She hesitated, prayed this was the right decision, that she wasn’t risking losing Jazi to the one person Lexi could never get her back from. “Because Jasmine has the same birthmark.”

Okay, she had Jethro’s attention. Truthfully, she’d had his attention from the moment she walked into The Beacon in that snug little black dress and he hoped she’d be his date. But never in his wildest imaginings had he considered the night would end up here. He’d been suspicious of her, enough to follow her here.

The sight of her draped in damp silk, white teeth biting her lush lower lip, had sidetracked him for an irrational moment. A hot, blow-his-mind moment that should never have happened. The lack of discipline was in no small part responsible for his...mood.

No one ever accused him of being dense. She meant to suggest Jasmine was his daughter. And he dealt with numbers every day, so he could do the math. The timing fit. But not the circumstances. He never had unprotected sex, never.

“Coincidence,” he stated.

She groaned and shook her head. “You don’t strike me as a man big on coincidence.”

She wasn’t wrong. But he didn’t budge. No way was she laying this on him. Family wasn’t in his future. In order to survive, he’d had to shut down his emotions. It was a lesson too well learned to change. Plus, he’d force no one to share his secret shame. All in all he sucked at relationships, lacked the skill set as one woman told him. When he hit thirty, he quit trying. He’d found Excursions about a year later.

So no, no family for him. And he was fine with that. He’d come to terms with the notion long ago, had made it clear to all who knew him. Jethro wasn’t prepared for that to change now.

Certainly not on the whim of a woman he barely knew. Even if she turned him so upside down he’d practically jumped her as soon as he’d walked inside the door. What had he been thinking?

The problem was he hadn’t been thinking; he’d been feeling. Further proof emotions couldn’t be trusted.

“You have the wrong man.”

Lexi slid from the stool and held the picture frame up in front of him. “She has your eyes.”

Don’t look. It’s a ploy. She just wants a rich baby daddy to support the orphan and you’re the lucky dupe.

The warning blasted through Jethro’s brain. But not even his legendary restraint proved stronger than the compulsion to look.

The baby was beautiful. A little girl with wild black curls and a smile so big and sweet he felt blessed just seeing it. She danced in the picture, her arms were raised and her tiny butt was cocked to the side and one pink-sandaled foot poised in the air. Jethro spied a smudge on one wrist that could be a birthmark. She had light beige skin, a sharp little nose.

And midnight-blue eyes ringed by lush black lashes.

Yeah, the birthmark was iffy, but those eyes, he’d never seen that exact color anywhere but in the mirror. The shape of her eyes, and her straight little eyebrows also matched his.

“I’m not looking for money.” Lexi broke the silence. “And I don’t expect you to change your life. I read that you don’t want a family.”

“Then what is this about, Ms. Malone?” He placed the picture facedown on the counter, the better to concentrate on the woman before him. His life just did a one-eighty. He needed to focus. “What do you want?”

“Can you call me Lexi?” Her cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink. “We just shared...” She waved her hand in the direction of the bedroom. “...a moment. It seems foolish to be so formal.”

“I’ve been foolish in more than one regard tonight, Ms. Malone—calling me on it isn’t your smartest move.”

“Why foolish?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her position drew attention to her breasts, which were small but plump. And pert, a detail he remembered in vivid Technicolor. Her stance also caused a thin strip of pale skin to show at her waist. His fingers itched to touch that silky skin again.

“Because you didn’t have control of every moment of the evening?” she went on. “Because you actually enjoyed yourself? News flash, people do it all the time.”

“Because none of it was real.” Or did her show of attitude indicate otherwise? Was she upset because she, too, had got more caught up in their time together than she’d intended?

So what if she was? It didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. She was so off-limits she may as well live on Venus.

“What do you want from me?” If it wasn’t money or for him to assume care of Jasmine, which would definitely change his life, then what else was there?

She sighed and relaxed her stance. “I want to adopt her.”

He lifted both brows. That was a response he hadn’t expected. And why did it give him mixed feelings of relief and disappointment?

“Sounds like you have it all worked out. So why do you need me?”

A look of anguish flashed through her pure blue eyes.

“Even though I’m Jazi’s godmother and it’s what Alliyah would want, I don’t meet the qualifications for an adoptive parent. I’m single and a dancer.” She shrugged as if that said it all. “I need you to assume custody and then we can do a private adoption.”

Custody. The word sent a rumble of dread down his back. And made him wonder. “Where is she?”

“Child Protective Services took her away. She’s in foster c-care.” She pressed her lips together and blinked a couple of times. “Alliyah would hate that.”

The thought of his daughter in foster care burned like acid through his blood.

Except she may not be his daughter at all. The fact she had a birthmark and his eyes was circumstantial at best. Still, he’d spent too many years in the grueling system to be placid about any innocent being tossed to that merciless grist mill.

“I get to see her and I go as often as they’ll let me, but if I don’t do something soon, they’ll release her for adoption and I’ll never get to see her again.” In her eagerness, she stepped closer bringing the scent of a tropical night with her. She raised pleading eyes to his. “You have to help me.”

“I don’t actually.” Time to go. This woman got to him. Had since the moment she walked into his world. If he didn’t leave now, he’d promise her the moon. “I need to consider what you’ve told me.” He moved to the door, grabbing his jacket en route. “I’ll have my assistant call you for an appointment in the next day or two.”

She nodded. Her arms were crossed over her chest again, but the pose held elements of disappointment and hope, as if she were holding herself together by a thread.

Damn it. He charged across the room and grabbed up the picture. “I’m taking this with me.”

This time when he left, he didn’t look back.

* * *

There was no going to sleep after Jethro’s visit. She tried. And failed. She tossed and turned, replaying her conversation with him over and over in her head. After two hours, she finally gave up and crawled out of bed still not knowing what to think.

She dragged herself to the kitchen and the coffeepot. The scent of the fresh-ground beans perked her up. She stood over the machine as it brewed, holding her cup under the spigot to catch the first stream and then switching in the pot.

She wandered to the couch and curled up with her cup. Dancers by trade tended to be night people. She used to be at her peak at this hour. Tonight her brain barely functioned except it wouldn’t shut off.

Jethro had pointed out he didn’t have to help her. But he’d taken the picture. And his assistant would be calling to make an appointment. Did that mean he believed her? Or was his comment just a way to get him out of the apartment without a further scene and she’d never see him again?

No. She refused to believe he’d just walk away. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d stared at the picture of Jazi. He saw the resemblance. And he’d act on it.

Wouldn’t he?

Stop. She couldn’t take this vicious Ferris wheel any longer. She drained her coffee and went to change. She needed to dance.

She’d given up her vocation, but she’d always dance. She needed the release like she needed to breathe. Especially now. The exercise would help her to get out of her head and relieve the tension still lingering in her body from its encounter with Jethro’s. There had to be a gym open somewhere at this hour.

* * *

Jethro stood staring out the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse suite. The lights and flash of the Las Vegas Strip spread out before him in a glimmering kaleidoscope of color and movement. And he saw none of it.

He couldn’t get the picture of a dancing baby with midnight-blue eyes out of his head.

He’d resolved to never have a family. But Lexi’s announcement shook him. If he had a daughter, that changed everything.

Except it didn’t have to.

Lexi wanted to raise the baby as her own. She couldn’t be more clear that he wasn’t invited to the party. His money and presence were not needed.

A knock came at the door and then Clay Hoffman stepped inside. Tall and blond, the man moved with military precision. You could put the grunt in a suit, but you couldn’t take the army out of the man. A foster brother and friend, Clay ran all things security related for Pinnacle Enterprises.

“I got your summons.” Clay went to the bar and helped himself to a drink. “What’s the emergency?” He dropped down on the brown suede couch and glanced around. “Where are Jackson and Ryan?”

“They aren’t coming.” Jethro joined his friend in the living area. “This is personal.”

“Personal?” Clay’s brows rose. “And it couldn’t wait until morning? Do you have an incident with one of your other companies? Cause you know the guys are more than willing to help even when it’s not Pinnacle business.”

“I prefer to keep this private for now.” Jethro picked up his abandoned drink and sipped. The burn of whiskey down his throat—just what he needed to loosen his tongue. “It appears I may have a daughter.”

“As if.” Clay laughed and sipped his drink. “Come on, tell me what this is about.”

Jethro simply stared at him.

Finally Clay’s eyes went big and he shook his head. “You’re serious. You have a daughter?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Jethro glanced at the picture frame on the coffee table.

“Is this her?” Clay reached for the picture and stared. “Oh, hell.”

“So you see it, too?”

“That she has your eyes? It’s hard to miss.”

“I’m told she has my birthmark, too.”

Clay returned his attention to the photo and squinted. “Hmm. Could be, I guess. I’d want to see it up close to confirm. And we’ll need a DNA test. Who is the mother?”

“And that’s why I called you.” He rarely asked for help. But in this case he knew his friend would direct him through the quagmire discreetly and efficiently. Jethro filled Clay in on all the details. “I need to know for certain she’s mine before I make any decisions.”

“Of course. I already have a sample of your DNA.” The Fabulous Four were all millionaires and after Jackson went AWOL last year Clay had collected DNA samples from each of them as a security measure. “It shouldn’t be a problem getting the baby’s from the county. And I have a lab that will turn the results around in a day.”

“Good.” Jethro stood to pace. “I want to see her.”

“Whoa.” Clay held his hands up in a time-out gesture. “If you’re serious about giving her up, that may not be a good idea.”

“It’s the right thing to do, don’t you think? Giving her up?”

“Only you can answer that, bro.” Clay’s alert gaze pierced through Jethro’s ambivalence. “You never talk about family, except to say you never planned to have one of your own.”

“Because I don’t have any. The foster system was never able to locate any next of kin for me.” There was no record of who’d abandoned him. Kind of hard to get info from no one.

“In that case this little girl may be the only family you’ll ever know. You should think carefully before you sign your rights away.”

Jethro shot his friend a get-real grimace. “I’m not equipped to raise a kid. I don’t scare easy but the thought of taking on custody of a little girl outright terrifies me. But I’d castrate myself before I left her in foster care.”

“Ouch,” Clay flinched, “but I hear you. You know it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You can negotiate the terms.”

Jethro shook his head. Sharing custody with the red-hot redhead was not going to happen. Between baby and dancer, he’d never know another moment of peace. “Lexi made her terms clear. I won’t jeopardize Jasmine’s future.”

He hesitated. “Jackson and Grace might raise her.”

Jethro had considered the option, but he wouldn’t do that to his friend. “They aren’t even married yet. I can’t ask them to do that. And if she were that close, I may not be able to refrain from interfering, which wouldn’t be fair to anyone. No, Lexi Malone is her godmother. She obviously loves the child. It’s the best solution.”

“Then I recommend you don’t see her.”

Knowing Clay was right, Jethro struggled with the irrational compulsion. He prided himself on making dispassionate decisions. Not this time. “If she’s mine, I have to see her.”

Clay sighed. “If she’s yours, I’ll set it up.”

* * *

Lexi’s day didn’t get any better as it wore on. Jethro’s assistant called but the appointment had been postponed for a day.

The delay was torture. Every minute dragged. And what filled her head? The feel and taste of Jethro Calder. When she’d sought him out last night, the last thing she’d contemplated was an attraction to the man.

Because it complicated much?

Of course she never could have predicted he’d track her to her apartment and seduce her in her own living room. Thank her lucky stars she came to her senses before he actually got her in bed. But it had been too close, the struggle too hard for her peace of mind.

She hadn’t lost her head like that in...no, she’d never lost her head like that. Been so swept away by a man’s kiss, by his touch, that she lost all sense of the here and now.

The fact he was her goddaughter’s father put him off-limits. Those forbidden moments in his arms were hot enough to give her regrets, but Jazi had to come first.

Desperate and longing to see her little girl, she called Jazi’s foster mother about setting up an appointment to see the baby, but it wasn’t convenient today. Instead they made arrangements for the next day.

Waiting proved too brutal so Lexi called in to Modern Goddess to see if she could put in extra hours and went into work early.





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