BILLIONAIRE ANGEL (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (15 page)

When Xander’s lips brushed hers, lights switched on all over Brooke’s body. Every day, she’d felt a little more drawn. The awareness surging between them now practically crackled.

As his mouth grazed again, with more intent this time, each of her senses heightened at the same time inhibition dropped away. Leaning in, she imagined them coming closer still, those big hands trailing her skin, and a kiss so deep that fireworks went off in her head.

Xander drew away and smiled into her eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he said.

“I’m glad you did it now.”

“Because we’re alone?”

“Because I wasn’t sure…”

A line formed between his brows. “I’m not like Jake.”

Brooke released a breath. “You’re not like
anyone
.”

He brought her hand to his lips and dropped a kiss on the first fingertip before she realized and pulled her hand away.

Her cheeks were hot. “You don’t want to do that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My nails. I bite them to the quick.”
I bite them till they bleed
. He still looked confused. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, I do. I get it. You’d like to break a habit. I wish I didn’t fall asleep in front of the television and wake up with a back an eighty-year old wouldn’t want.” He leaned closer and confessed. “I’m also addicted to Candy Crush.”

She laughed. “You are not.”

“It doesn’t matter to me that you like a nibble. I don’t care about your nails. Brooke, I care about you.”

When he lifted her hand this time, and one by one kissed each fingertip, emotion pushed up Brooke’s throat and she surrendered it all.

Maybe guardian angels in Italian suits really
did
exist. 

He placed her palm on his chest, and then brought her close to kiss her again, deeply this time. A flame curled through her veins, warming her through to the core. She adored the taste of him, his raspy chin, the scent of his skin and his hair.

As she craned higher on the tiptoes of her knee-high boots, Xander’s hand on the small of her back pressed her deliciously close. When his lips gradually left hers, his hands trailed higher until he was gently kneading her shoulders through her jacket while his lips trailed across her brow.

“You don’t want to go back to the shop alone tonight,” he murmured. “Come home with me, just to hold each other, if that’s all you want.”

When his fingers filed up the back of her head, through her hair, she sighed. “You want to do more than cuddle.”

“I can go slow, if slow gets us where we need to go.”

“Now we’ve come this far,” she grinned, “I vote for full-steam ahead.” Her palm fanned over his chest, beneath his coat. “How far away is your place?”

He glanced toward the building that housed their restaurant on its ground floor. “I have the penthouse.”

Her smile was wry. “Convenient.”

“I like the food here. I like the beach. Brooke…” He tasted her lips again. “I like you.”   

A second after she and Xander rode the elevator to the top floor and he ushered her inside his penthouse apartment, he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the master bedroom. He set her down beside the bed, flicked on a soft lamp and then brought her close again.

After a kiss that made her toes curl, he murmured against her lips. “If you’re still okay with full-steam ahead, I suggest we get naked.”

She pressed in. “I like that suggestion.”

“I have more,” he said, peeling the jacket off her shoulders.

As he whispered a proposition in her ear, she bit her lip to stop a groan; she could barely wait. By the time he’d finished explaining how he proposed to go about it, he was slipping blouse sleeves off her arms and Brooke was dissolving, she wanted him so bad.

His palms ran down her arms as he crouched in front of her. When she felt the tug and then heard her skirt’s zipper slide down, she had to grip both his shoulders to stop weak knees from folding. He dropped a lingering kiss below her navel, and then tip of his tongue drew a moist strip an inch above her bikini line. As a finger slipped down the front of her panties, she quivered and arched into his caress. Then the tip of his tongue delved lower until he was kissing her
there
. Her fingers knotted, and then fisted in his hair.

After he’d dragged her underwear all the way down and he helped her out of her boots, he pushed to his feet and unsnapped her bra. When she stood before him with not a stitch on, he raveled her up in his arms and his mouth found hers again. She was aware of him backing her up, blindly flipping back the covers and then urging her to lie down. He dabbed a kiss at the base of her throat before he straightened and undressed.

In the shadows, she watched him shrug out of the shirt, ditch the shoes then the rest. When the mattress dipped and he lay beside her, she immediately rolled into his embrace. With an arm coiled around his neck, she nipped his lower lip and admitted, “You feel unbelievably good.”  Like slabs of rock wrapped in warm velvet.

His kisses now were disciplined snatches, followed by penetrating strokes that ignited spot-fires through her veins. When he moved, carefully crowding her until she lay on her back, he squeezed her outer thigh as his tongue looped and flicked the tip of one breast. He drifted across to the other side and this time nipped lightly before drawing that nipple back into his mouth.

His palm ironed down over her belly. When a single finger slid between her thighs and inside of her, she clamped shut her eyes and instinctively drilled down. For the next few bone-melting moments, he alternated between that and drawing circles over the nub at the top of her folds.

When he shifted away, pent up air rushed from her lungs; he’d lifted her to a place where she’d forgotten where she was. Her heartbeat pounding, she watched his silhouette turn away. Then she heard a bedside drawer open and a foil wrapper tear. A moment later, he joined her again, and this time he kissed her like he wouldn’t have another chance.

Positioned above her, he entered her slowly, filling her a little more with each stroke while her hands trailed over his bare shoulders, down those epic arms. His body was steaming. Every tendon felt locked and rock hard. And the way that he
moved…

Pressing into the mattress, she hummed over a big smile. She could lie here with Xander doing this forever. Even better when he murmured those endearments in her ear…words like
beautiful and wonderful and mine
.  And then, one thrust hit a spot that turned her inside out. Nerve-endings caught light, inhaling every drop of her blood. As he kissed her again, his rhythm picked up. The hot spot inside her began to sizzle and contract.

When her climax hit, one wave of pleasure rolled into the next. As Xander’s body braced and he groaned out her name, Brooke gripped the sheet at either side and surrendered everything she had. She needed to have this again. The best she’d ever known. And yet…

The next morning, after a blissful night’s sleep, Brooke was offered an even bigger treat.

“Chocolate pancakes, triple-choc ice-cream and a generous smattering of chocolate chips.”

“This is downright decadent,” Brooke said, sitting at the kitchen table as Xander set down a plate. “But, I’m surprised. Where’s the chocolate sauce?”

“Too much chocolate?”

She laughed. “You can
never
have too much chocolate.”

Making love the previous night had been so good that they hadn’t stopped at once…or twice. When Brooke had finally nodded off, it had been late. Nevertheless, he’d moved out into the living room to make a phone call.

When his eyes opened at six a.m., he’d found her lying beside him, still sound asleep. It took everything to hold back from slowly but thoroughly kissing her awake. Instead, he’d decided to entice her with the unmistakable aroma of pancakes on the grill.

Around seven, she had edged out of the bedroom, looking like a sleepy goddess wearing a sheet toga-style. His every muscle had clenched and then bucked. He only wanted to take her back to bed.

“Did you make these from scratch?” Brooke asked, eying the pancakes as she pulled in her chair.

“And from a secret recipe. I’m partners with a pancake restaurant.”

As he sat beside her, he named the franchise and her eyes widened.

“I love that place. The menu’s amazing. Ever try their ice-cream sandwich with sprinkles.”

“Next time, order the apple pie pancakes. A splash of brandy. Swimming in sweet thick cream.” When those muscles bucked again, he moistened his lips. “Suddenly, I want to take this to the bedroom. What about you?”

When an approving grin sparkled in those green eyes, he leaned closer and captured her mouth with his. He felt her melt against him, heard her groan and then sigh as she pulled away.

“Ella’s dropping Chance off around nine,” she said.

Xander had never spent a better night in his life than he had with Brooke the previous evening, and that included dinner and their walk. The sex had been out of this world, but what made this special—what made this all unique—was everything combined.

The entire package.

After breakfast, Xander led Brooke into the bathroom. He stripped the sheet off and, a minute later, he was sponging her back while rivulets of warm water sluiced over their skin. He sponged a few other places, too, and then she soaped him up and down. Sharing a shower was supposed to save water. Not in their case.

Later, he’d dabbed and rubbed her with a towel, making sure to kiss each place he had dried, including her hands and each fingertip.

When he dropped her back at the shop, he leaned across to the passenger side and kissed her goodbye. “I’ll see you this afternoon,” he said, combing a hand back through her still damp hair.

“You have somewhere to be?” Her lips twitched. “Some bigwig business meeting?”

“I’m dropping in to see a friend. An ex-law enforcement officer, more currently, private detective. I wanted to get on to tracking down Chance’s biological father.”

The color leached from her cheeks. “Already? I’m not sure…”

“This friend of mine knows his stuff. Luke will pull out all the stops. We can decide what to do from there.”

By late afternoon, Xander’s P.I. friend Luke had done his thing and supplied an address of the man who had enjoyed a romantic affair with Tiffany Bird some months before.  When Xander pulled up outside a house set in a middle-class neighbourhood, he noted that the structure looked sound. A kid’s bicycle lay out front, halfway across the driveway. The lawn was maintained, even if everything combined conveyed a wilted look. Should he phone Brooke and let her know where he was at? He didn’t think her anxiety levels over this particular subject needed another hit just yet.

Luke had advised against confronting the man straight up. He advocated “wait, watch and learn.” He had also offered to do the surveillance himself, but Xander hadn’t wanted to leave this part to anyone else.

After an hour, Xander was ready to turn the ignition and pull out onto the road; he’d get advice on what to do next. But then a man came into view, walking down the driveway side of the house. Sitting straighter, Xander flipped the sunglasses back down onto his nose. From the headshot Luke had supplied,
that
was Kurt Downing, the adult male resident at this address. The man who had enjoyed intimate relations with Tiffany Bird.

Married. Six kids.

Good old Kurt needed to keep his dick in his pants.

How might this man take the news that he’d fathered
another
child? Cigars and smiles didn’t come to mind.

When a child trundled out the front door, Xander’s gut muscles clutched. The boy was around six, same age Xander had been when his father had packed the Dodge and hit the road. No sooner had the kid raced up to his dad than Downing began to bawl the little guy out. With his car window down a crack, Xander only caught snatches…

Put your bike away… so help me…toss it in the bay...

Followed by a run of expletives.

Nice.

When the boy shrank away, Xander’s teeth began to ache, his jaw was clenched so tight. Then Mom came barrelling out and started yelling, too, at her husband not the boy, which was at least some consolation. Finally, the woman hunched over and began to cry.

The urge rose up inside Xander like a tidal wave. He wanted to charge over, sweep that boy up and rescue him from a nightmare that Xander had survived many years prior. Didn’t make it any better when, remorseful, Downing swept his son and wife close and kissed both before taking them inside.

Downing felt guilty? So he should. Didn’t sway Xander one bit.

He knew precisely what to do to help Chance.

When Xander arrived at the shop after closing time that day, Brooke didn’t let on how happy she was to see him…or how worried she had been. He gave her a leisurely kiss before taking Chance from her arms and asking the baby about his night out with the “girls” a.k.a. his aunts. Finally Brooke had to ask. She’d been agonizing about it all day.

“Did your P.I. friend find anything out?”

Xander’s jaw flexed as he handed the baby back. “Yeah. We found the guy. Kurt Downing.”

“And?”

“My honest opinion. Chance is better off without him.”

Brooke tried to absorb it.

She would never take back a minute of the time she and Xander had shared the previous night. They had reached a higher level of understanding…certainly of affection. A moment ago, watching him cuddle and talk with Chance, she had only wanted to join in and pretend—

Well, pretend they were a family.

Now? Xander had just relayed the news that, not only had he found Chance’s biological father, he didn’t think the matter was worth pursuing. Just like that. He didn’t seem upset over his conclusion, either. Rather, Xander seemed oddly detached.

Certainly, Tiffany hadn’t wanted that man’s name included on Chance’s birth certificate, but now that Brooke had this much information, and Xander was looking like it was done and dusted…

“Xander,” she said, “I need to know more.”

His chin went up. “Kurt Downing is married with six children.”

Brooke folded into a nearby chair.
“Six…”

“I sat outside the house for a while. I saw Downing first, then a young boy. His wife came out and joined in the yelling and crying. Dysfunctional is the word I would use.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Given his family situation, I have a hunch he wouldn’t like that a whole lot.”

“And now…?”

“We bury the information and let Chance get on with his life.”

Her scalp prickled. It was one thing not knowing who or why, but could she shove this aside as easily as Xander obviously could?

“Where does he live?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

Pushing to her feet, she put a stronger note in her voice. “I want to know.” 

“Trust me, the best thing we can do is try to forget that guy exists. Having a toxic relationship is a hell of a lot worse than having no relationship at all.”

Tiffany hadn’t put Kurt Downing’s name on the birth certificate. It followed that Xander’s instincts here were right. But what if there was a possibility that Chance might have a relationship with his father one day, even to know where he had come from…

Bottom line? Tiffany had entrusted
her
with the responsibility of being Chance’s guardian. She needed to make this decision, not Xander Drake.