Maureen Child - A Baby For The Billionaire

“No,” her grandmother said with a sigh. “I mean, get to know him. The two of you are now linked through these children. You will be a part of each other’s lives always. Isn’t it smart to know the person rather than to assume the worst and act on it?”

Dina groaned and plopped onto the bed, hands in her lap. “I hate it when you’re rational.”

The older woman chuckled and went back to folding tiny T-shirts and pants. “You don’t want to admit he’s right, either, do you?”

“He’s not right. About what?”

“About this house. It is much too small for you and three growing babies. You know this, Dina. You just don’t want it thrown in your face.”

True. The bungalow felt stifling most of the time. She had rented it three years ago for herself as a stepping-stone. A way to save money—since the rent then was reasonable—so she could save to buy her own place. With her business doing well, it wouldn’t have taken her long to afford a nice condo somewhere. She’d built up a savings account, opened the catering company and was sure that all of her plans were going to sail on nicely.

But then the babies came, the rent went up, her business went down and she’d been pretty much stuck here. When Connor had said that her business was sinking and taking her dreams of a restaurant along with it, he’d really hit the nail on the head.

Maybe her grandmother was right. She would still have to pay rent on this house while living with Connor, just to keep her own place to run to when his plan was shot out of the sky. But everything else could work in her favor. Bills for diapers, food, babysitting wouldn’t mount because she would be at his place. Maybe she could start saving again and begin to rebuild her nearly empty savings account.

“Fine. We’ll go. We’ll stay. For a while.”

“Good. And you’ll do this with a positive attitude.”

“Oh, I’m positive this is all going to blow up in my face. Does that count?”

“No, it does not,” her grandmother said, then asked, “What is this really about, nieta ?”

Frowning, Dina picked at a splotch of dried baby food on the hem of her white shorts. “Connor King is overpowering,” she finally said, her voice little more than a whisper of complaint. “He’s gorgeous, he’s pushy, he’s rich.”

“And you worry because of your mother.”

Dina looked at her grandmother, apology in her eyes. Whatever kind of mom Helen had been to Dina, she had also been Angelica’s daughter, and Dina felt guilty for reminding her grandmother of her loss. “I’m sorry. But you saw what happened to Mom, too. She would get involved with men who were larger-than-life and then she’d slowly crumble to whatever they wanted. She was lost, trying to be something she wasn’t.”

Sighing heavily, Angelica took a seat beside Dina, reached out and squeezed her hand. “I loved your mother,” she said, “but she was not a strong woman. She had doubts about who she was, always. My daughter looked to men for the answer rather than to herself, and that was her mistake. Her fault. It’s not yours.”

Dina looked into her grandmother’s eyes.

“You worry for nothing,” her grandmother said softly. “You have a strength she never had, your mother. You are confident where she was hesitant. Strength in a man is not a bad thing. It is only weakness that can be devoured by strength. You have none.”

Dina would like to believe that, but her confidence level was at an all-time low at the moment. Living with Connor, being around him nonstop, was going to be the kind of temptation she had always avoided. And that knowledge only made her feel even more uneasy about this whole thing.

“Now,” her grandmother said as she stood up, “help me finish packing for the niños . It’s time to face your fear and conquer it.”

“Right. Conquer my fear.” Dina stood up, too, and looked at the pile of baby clothes still waiting to be folded. She had a feeling, though, as she started working again, that Connor King wasn’t an easy man to conquer.

* * *

Of course his house was amazing. Set amid lush gardens and heavy greenery, it was a ranch-style home built of brick and stone and glass and looked as though it had simply grown organically where it stood.

Dina was speechless from the moment she entered through the double front doors. Polished oak floors, beautiful furnishings from the gleaming tables to the paintings on the taupe-painted walls to the gray marble fireplace that dominated one wall of the massive great room. It was there they settled the kids down to play and that Dina could take a moment to admire the room. Overstuffed furniture stood in silent invitation to curl up and relax. Books and magazines were stacked on the oak tables and a set of French doors opened onto a stone patio that fed down into a green lawn overlooking the ocean. One entire wall was glass, providing a view that was simply breathtaking, especially at the moment, with sunset spilling across the sea in a path of gold and red and staining the sky in shades of rose and gold and violet.

She did a slow turn, taking it all in and silently wishing she didn’t feel like a peasant invited to the castle. The whole house smelled like fresh flowers and lemon polish. And though she hated to admit it, her entire bungalow would fit nicely into the great room.

The kids were at her feet, spread out on a wide rug that probably cost more than her car, with toys that were so new, she and Connor had had to pry them out of their packaging. Two nut-brown leather couches faced each other across a wide coffee table of distressed wood. Club chairs in varying shades of green and blue were scattered around the wide room in conversational groups and the wall of glass seemed to bring the outside in.

A housekeeper named Louise, a woman of about fifty, with graying dark hair and bright, curious blue eyes, had brought out tall glasses of iced tea along with a plate of cookies and three sippy cups of milk for the triplets. It was perfect, damn it.

“Think you’ll be able to tough it out here?”

She turned to look at Connor, sprawled on one of the couches, looking exactly what he was...lord of the manor.

“Enjoying this, are you?”

“Being comfortable?” he asked. “After time spent on your couch? Oh, yeah.”

She sighed because she couldn’t really blame him. “Your house is beautiful.”

He laughed shortly. “How much did that hurt?”

“A lot,” Dina admitted. “I admit, I was hoping to find that you lived in some soulless, white everywhere modern nightmare—”

“Ooh, careful there. You just described my brother Colt’s house.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I never liked it. Felt cold to me, but he thought it looked clean. His wife and kids are currently dirtying it up for him.”

“Right. Well, anyway. This house is beautiful, but you have to know that I feel like you maneuvered me into this move, and I don’t like it.”

“I did, and you don’t have to.” Connor straightened up in the chair, braced his elbows on his knees and slapped his hands together. “I want my kids, Dina. You come with them.”

“For now,” she said.

He lifted one shoulder. “Now’s what we’re dealing with, right?”

Yes, but what happened later? A week, two weeks, three? The longer they stayed in this house, the more solid footing Connor would have for a custody suit. And Dina wasn’t an idiot. She knew he expected to take the kids from her. That thought made her heart ache, but a split second later, something clicked in her brain.

All along, she’d been thinking that Connor had the upper hand. And in a lot of ways, he did. But the reality of actually living with three babies who demanded plenty of attention was something he hadn’t experienced yet. She smiled as she realized that staying here might actually work in her favor after all.