Her Bad Boy Billionaire Lover (Billionai - By Bretton, Barbara Page 0,52

and love and the absolute certainty that what they had together would never be enough to see them through.

He looked at the telephone. One call was all it would take. He could have a plane waiting for him at the airport and be gone before daybreak. There was nothing for him here. Not really. Megan had made it perfectly clear that there was no room for him in her life. And he wasn't convinced there should be room for him in their daughter's. He'd see to it that they never wanted for anything.

But dawn found him watching the sunrise over the water.

And at ten o'clock he climbed into his car and started the engine.

Traffic was light as he cut across the city toward the house where Megan was staying. How did she feel spending the night in luxury when her own place was just a step above an army barracks? Did it even matter to her anymore?

Nothing about her life was the way he thought it would be.

He signaled a turn into the subdivision where her partner lived. He should have left well enough alone, kept his memories where they belonged, buried in a far corner of his mind. They were supposed to have great sex, burn away the past, then say goodbye forever. Neat. Clean. Permanent. He hadn't expected to care.

He pulled into the driveway next to a beat-up Ford he now knew to be Megan's. Hard to imagine her without the fiery little red Porsche that had been her trademark.

Hell, he thought, as he headed up the walkway toward the front door. That was just one of a hundred things that had changed in the past six years.

"I have a brand new baby brother!" The little blond girl with the big blue eyes greeted him as she swung open the door. She was so sweet, so cute, so uncomplicated--everything he'd expected a little girl to be. "His name is Charlie and he weighs ten pounds."

Jake winced. "Ten pounds?"

The little girl nodded, her blond curls bouncing. "My daddy says he's a bowling ball in diapers."

He had to laugh. "I think I'd like your daddy."

"You would like him, Jake." Megan's low voice drifted toward him. "Miguel's a yacht builder."

He looked past Stace to see Megan standing in the archway to the foyer. She wore white pants and a silky pale gold sweater that skimmed her breasts and hips. Her auburn hair was piled loosely on top of her head, anchored with a tortoise shell pin. She walked toward him, that swaying womanly walk that had always brought him instantly to life.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"In the backyard. She wanted to pick some flowers to take to Ingrid and the baby after the puppet show."

"Won't they wilt?"

"I tried to tell her," Megan said, "but she has her own ideas."

Genetics, he thought. Stubborn genes on both sides of the family. Poor little sheila didn't stand a chance.

#

It took a good ten minutes to get Jenny and Stace strapped into the back seat of Jake's shiny black Jaguar. They were in a giggly mood, acting about as silly as it was possible for two six year old girls to act.

"You have thirty seconds to calm down and get those seatbelts fastened," Megan warned. "Otherwise you can forget about the puppet show."

They managed to stop giggling long enough to obey Megan but the laughter started up again as soon as the car was moving.

It was business as usual for Megan. Jake, however, kept glancing at them through the rearview mirror, a puzzled expression on his face.

"This comes with the territory," Megan said. "Little kids laugh a lot."

He glanced at her and her heart turned over at the surprising look of vulnerability in his eyes. There was something different about him today. Yesterday's anger was gone and in its place was a bittersweet sense of finality that was almost enough to crumble her defenses.

"I think the little ankle-biters are laughing at me."

"They're not laughing at you."

"How do you know?" He glanced in the mirror once again. "I heard the word 'kangaroo.'"

"Oh, Jake!" She started to laugh herself. "That doesn't mean anything."

"I don't know." He didn't sound convinced. "There's something going on back there."

"Of course there's something going on back there. There always is when you're with kids. You'll get used to it."

Her words hung in the air between them. He wasn't going to be around long enough to get used to it. By this time tomorrow he'd be back on another of his yachts, smiling