Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,135
I think most of the parents there today were having more fun than the kids.” She leaned her head back on the headrest. “Dylan certainly slept through a good part of the day.”
And it had been during those spells that he’d been tempted to give in to the devilish urge to kiss her. Hot memories of the last time he’d kissed her—when she’d almost ended up totally naked on his lap—had kept him awake more than one night since she’d moved in. But he’d resisted it, fearing he might destroy the delicate truce that had developed between them.
“I had fun,” he murmured finally.
“Me, too.”
Her voice was smiling. Connor wished he could take his eyes from the road to study her, to see if the corners of her mouth had tipped up into that irresistible curve.
Okay, he wanted her. There. He’d admitted it. He wanted to soak himself in the scent of her, wanted to sate himself in her body.
So where did that leave him?
Connor started through the options with relentless efficiency. He would have to invest time in this—Victoria wouldn’t accept anything less, he was certain of that.
Yet he couldn’t possibly have an affair with Dylan’s coguardian. Somewhere down the line it would all turn to custard, and Dylan would be the one to suffer.
He thought back to earlier in the afternoon when Jordan’s mother had mistaken them for a couple. And Dylan for his baby …
It didn’t mean a thing.
Because she’d also assumed Victoria was Dylan’s mother.
A glance in the rearview mirror showed Dylan snoozing in the backseat of the Maserati, his dark-gray eyes closed, his cheeks pink and his mouth open in an O.
Goldy-brown eyes. The woman was a kook.
Victoria bore no resemblance to Dylan at all. They weren’t even related. But they could be … if he married her.
Because then she’d be the wife of Dylan’s sperm-donor father.
He tightened his hands around the steering wheel. God, how had this gotten so complicated? It made his head go numb.
But not nearly as badly as the desire that made him crave to get Victoria into his bed, under his body—
“We should do it again sometime.”
“What?” His voice went rough with want. Could she have read his carnal thoughts?
“Visit the zoo again.”
Of course she couldn’t read his thoughts. He blew out in relief. “Yes, yes, we must.”
He could marry her—the crazy thought leapt back into his mind and just as quickly he banished it. He didn’t want to marry the woman. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to marry Dana, either. Victoria was just as career-minded—nothing like the kind of woman he wanted to live with for the rest of his life.
Except his libido refused to agree.
After putting the baby into his night suit on Sunday night, Victoria settled down to feed him his bottle in the spacious rocking chair that had been delivered to the nursery yesterday while they’d been out at the zoo.
Yesterday.
She glanced across to Connor where he sat perched on the love seat opposite her, riffling through a pile of picture books on the floor in front of him.
Yesterday she’d discovered a side to Connor that she’d never known existed. A warm, fun, funny side. But as soon as they’d gotten home Connor had disappeared, and today she’d barely seen him. She was starting to think he must be avoiding her.
Yet here he was acting as though everything was normal.
Victoria decided she’d never fathom the man out.
He seemed impervious to her disquiet as he picked up a picture book and held it up, saying, “This one, don’t you think, big guy?”
Dylan sucked more fiercely on the bottle.
“Good taste, son.”
Connor flipped open the first page. Despite his deep voice, he read with a soft, easy rhythm that was curiously soothing. By the time he’d reached the end of the board book, Dylan’s eyelids had fallen and Victoria was feeling easier … almost sleepy.
Setting the book on the pile beside the love seat, Connor stretched his arms above his head. “I’ve been thinking.”
The warm, fuzzy feeling receded. Victoria opened her eyes in time to see him rise to his feet. She regarded him warily as tension zapped through her. “About?”
He looked remote, powerful and somewhat alien, standing across from her with his hands on his hips. Was he about to tell her that he’d reconsidered their unconventional custody arrangement—that she should go home? Or was he going to demand she give up work to stay home with Dylan? She’d been dreading that.