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Billionaire's Jet-Set Babies
Billionaire's Jet-Set Babies
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Billionaire's Jet-Set Babies

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Billionaire's Jet-Set Babies

His low chuckle followed her all the way back to both peacefully sleeping children.

Alexa could hear his husky laugh echoing in her ears two hours later as they settled into their luxurious hotel room in St. Augustine, Florida.

She had seen the best of the best lodgings and the Casa Monica—one of the oldest hotels in the United States—was gorgeous by any standards, designed to resemble a castle. The city of St. Augustine itself was rich with history and ornate Spanish architecture, the Casa Monica being a jewel. The hotel had been built in the 1800s, named for St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, the city’s namesake.

And here she was with Seth and his babies. She could use a little motherly advice from a patron saint’s mom right now.

She also needed to find some time to touch base with Bethany at work. Even though she was sure Bethany could manage—it had been her company at one time—she really did need to speak with her partner and give Bethany her contact information.

Seth had checked them into one of the penthouse suites, with a walk-out to a turret with views of the city. The suite had two bedrooms connected by a sitting area. The mammoth bath with a circular tub called to her muscles, which ached from working all day then lugging one of the baby carriers around. Then her thoughts went to images of sharing the tub with a man … not just any man …

She turned back to the room, decorated in blue velvet upholstery and heavy brocade curtains. Seth had claimed the spare bedroom, leaving her the larger master with two cribs inside. She trailed her fingers over the handle to Olivia’s car seat on the floor beside the mission style sofa in the sitting room. Olivia’s brother rested in his car seat next to hers.

“Your twins sleep well. They’re making this job too easy, you know.”

“Pippa doesn’t believe in bedtimes. They usually nap hard their first day with me.” Seth strode into the spare bedroom. “Expect mayhem soon enough when they wake up recharged. Owen’s a charmer, so much so it’s easy to miss the mischief he’s plotting. He’s always looking for the best way to stack furniture and climb his way out. You can see where he’s already had stitches through his left eyebrow. As for Olivia, well, keep a close eye on her hands. She loves to collect small things to shove up her nose, in her ears, in her mouth …”

Affection swelled from each word as he detailed his children’s personalities. The man definitely loosened up when around his kids or when he was talking about them. He seemed to know his offspring well. Not what she would have expected from a distant dad. Intrigued, she moved closer.

Through the open door, she could see him drape his suit coat on the foot of the bed. He loosened his tie further and unbuttoned his collar, then worked the buttons free down his shirt.

Alexa backed toward her own room. “Um, what are you doing?”

Seth slipped his still-knotted tie over his head and untucked the shirt. “Owen kicked his shoes against me when I picked him up after we landed.” He pointed to smudges down the left side. “I need to change fast before my meeting.”

His all-important meeting. Right. Seth had told her he was having dinner with a bigwig contact downstairs and she could order whatever she wanted from room service. He would be back in two to three hours. If she could get the kids settled in the tub, she could sit on the side and make some work calls while watching them. Check voice mail and email on her iPhone, deal with the standard million missed calls from her mom before moving on to deal with work. Her staff wasn’t large, just four other employees, including Bethany. Her partner was slowing down, but could hold down the fort. In the event an emergency arose, Bethany would make sure things didn’t reach a boiling point. So she was in the free and clear to spend the night here. With the kids.

And Seth.

She thumbed a smudge from the base of the brass lamp. “Can’t have shoe prints all over you at the big meeting. That’s for sure.”

“Could you look in the hang-up bag and get me another shirt?”

“Right, okay.” She spun away before he undressed further. She charged over to the black suitcase resting on top of a mahogany luggage rack.

Alexa tugged the zipper around and … oh my. The scent of him wafted up from his clothes, which should be impossible since they were clean clothes. But no question about it, the suitcase had captured the essence of him and it was intoxicating.

Her fingers moved along the hangers until she found a plain white shirt mixed in with a surprising amount of colorful others. Mr. Buttoned-up Businessman had a wild side. An unwelcome tingle played along her skin and in her imagination. She slapped the case closed.

Shirt in hand, she turned back to Seth who was now wearing only his pants and a T-shirt. His shoulders stretched the fabric to the limit. Her fingers curled into the shirt in her hands, her fingertips registering Sea Island Cotton, high-end, breathable, known for keeping the wearer’s body cool throughout the day.

Maybe she could use some Sea Island Cotton herself because she was heating up.

Alexa thrust the shirt toward him. “Will this do?”

“Great, thanks.” His knuckles brushed hers as she passed over his clothes as if they were intimately sharing a space.

And more.

Awareness chased up her wrist, her arm, higher still as the intimacy of the moment engulfed her. She was in a gorgeous hotel room, with a hot man and his beautiful children, helping him get dressed. The scene was too wonderful. Too close to what she’d once dreamed of having with her ex.

She jerked back fast. “Any last minute things to tell me about the kids when I order up supper?”

“Owen is allergic to strawberries, but Olivia loves them and if she can get her hands on them, she tries to share them with her brother. So watch that—hotels do the strawberry garnish thing on meals.”

“Anything else?” She tried to pull her eyes away from the nimble glide of his fingers up the buttons on his shirt.

“If you have an emergency, you can contact me at this number.” He grabbed a hotel pen and jotted a string of numbers on the back of a business card. “That’s my private cell line I use only for the kids.”

“Got it.” She tucked it in the corner of the gold gilded mirror. She could handle a couple of babies for a few hours.

Right?

“Don’t lose it. And don’t let Owen find it or he will eat it.” He unbuckled his belt.

Her jaw dropped.

He tucked in his shirttails—and caught her staring. Her face heating, she turned away. Again.

Looking out the window seemed like a safe idea even though she’d been to St. Augustine about a dozen times. She could see Flagler College across the way, a place she’d once considered attending. Except her parents refused to pay if she left Charleston. Students at the Flagler castlelike fortress must feel as if they were attending Hogwarts. In fact, the whole city had a removed-from-reality feel, a step out of time. Much like this entire trip.

A Cinderella carriage pulled by a horse creaked slowly by as a Mercedes convertible whipped around and past it.

As Charleston had the French Huguenot influence, buildings here sported a Spanish Renaissance flair, and if Seth didn’t get dressed soon, she would run out of things to look at. He was too much of a threat to her world for her to risk a tempting peek.

Her body hummed with awareness even when she didn’t see him. What a hell of a time for her hormones to stoke to life again.

“You can turn around now.” Seth’s voice stroked along her ragged nerves.

She chewed her lip, spinning back to face him, a man too handsome for his own good—or hers. “I’ve taken care of babies before.”

Not often, but for friends in hopes she could prepare herself for the day it was her turn. A day that had never come around.

“Twins are different.” He tugged the tie back over his head.

If he was so worried, he should cancel his meeting. She wanted to snap at him, but knew her irritability for what it was. Her perfect plan for the day had gone way off course, complicated even more by how damn attracted she was to the man she wanted to woo for a contract, not as a bed partner.

Memories of rustling sheets and sweat-slicked bodies smoked through her mind. She’d had a healthy sex life with her ex, so much so that she hadn’t considered something could be wrong until everything fell apart. She definitely couldn’t trust her body to judge the situation.

“Seth,” she said his first name so easily she almost gasped, but forced herself to continue, “the twins and I will manage. We’ll eat applesauce and fries and chicken nuggets then skyrocket your pay-per-view bill with cartoon movies until our brains are mush. I’ll watch Olivia with small objects, and Owen’s charm won’t distract me from his climbing or strawberry snitching. They’ll be fine. Go to your meeting.”

He actually hesitated before grabbing his jacket from the edge of the bed. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”

Oh, her body needed him all right. Too much for her own good. She was better off using her brains.

Seth stepped from the elevator into the lobby full of arches that led to the bar and restaurant. He scanned the chairs and sofas of rich dark woods with red-striped fabrics. Looking further, he searched past the heavy beams and thick curtains pulled back at each archway.

Thank God, somehow he’d managed to make it here ahead of his dinner partner. He strode past an iron fountain with Moorish tiles toward the bar where he was supposed to meet Javier Cortez, a cousin to royalty.

Literally. Cortez was related to the Medina family, a European monarchy that had ended in a violent coup. The Medinas and relatives had relocated to the United States, living in anonymity until a media scoop exposed their royal roots last year.

Cortez had served as head of security to one of the princes prior to the newsbreak and now oversaw safety measures for the entire family. Landing the Medinas as clients would be a huge coup.

Seth hitched up onto a stool at the bar, waving to the bartender for a seltzer water. Nothing stronger tonight.

Jansen Jets was still a small company, relatively speaking, but thanks to an in, he’d landed this meeting. One of those “Human Web” six degrees of separation moments—his cousin’s wife’s sister married into the Landis family, and a Landis brother married the illegitimate Medina princess.

Okay, that was more like ten degrees of separation. Thankfully, enough to bring him to this meeting. From this point on he had to rest on his own merits. Much like he’d told Alexa. Alexa …

Damn it all, did every thought have to circle back around to her?

Sure he’d noticed her on a physical level when he’d first stepped on the plane, and he’d managed the attraction well enough until he’d caught her eyes sliding over his body as he’d undone his pants. The ensuing heat wave sure hadn’t been a welcome condition right before a meeting.

But he needed her help, so he would damn well wrestle the attraction into submission. His kids were his number one priority. He’d tried calling his ex multiple times since landing in St. Augustine, but only got her voice mail. Life had been a hell of a lot less complicated when he was flying those routes solo in North Dakota.

There didn’t seem to be a damn thing more he could do about his mess of a personal life. Hopefully he could at least make headway in the business world.

Starting now.

The elevator dinged, doors swished open and Javier Cortez stepped out. Predictably the bar patrons buzzed. The newness of having royalty around hadn’t worn off for people. The forty-year-old royal cousin strode out confidently, his Castilian heritage fitting right into the hotel’s decor.

The guy’s regal lineage didn’t matter to Seth. He just appreciated the guy’s hard-nosed efficiency. This deal would be sewn up quickly, one way or another.

“Sorry I’m late.” Cortez thrust out his hand. “Javier Cortez.”

“Seth Jansen.” He stood to shake Javier’s hand and then resettled onto a barstool beside the other guy.

The bartender placed an amber drink in front of Javier before he even placed an order. “I appreciate your flying down to meet with me here.” He rattled the ice and looked around with assessing eyes. “My wife loves this place.”

“I can see why. Lots of historic appeal.”

It was also a good locale to conduct business, near the Medinas’ private island off the coast of Florida. Although Seth hadn’t been invited into that inner sanctum yet. Security measures were tight. No one knew the exact location and few had seen the island fortress. The Medinas owned a couple of private jets, but were looking to increase their transport options to and from the island as their family expanded with marriages and new children.

Cortez tasted his drink and set it on the cocktail napkin. “Since my wife and I are still technically finishing up our honeymoon, I promised her a longer stay, the chance to shop, laze around by the pool, soak up some Florida sun before we head back to Boston.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, thanks. I hear you have your kids and their sitter with you.”

Of course he’d heard, even though Seth had only been in town for about an hour. The guy was a security whiz and obviously didn’t walk into a meeting unprepared. “I like to work in time with them whenever I can, so I brought the kids and Mary Poppins along.”

“Excellent. Then you won’t mind if we postpone the rest of this discussion.”

Crap. Just what he didn’t need.

The stay here extended. Less taken care of tonight, more tomorrow and even the next day. “Of course.”

Cortez stood, taking his drink with him as he started back toward the elevator. Seth abandoned his seltzer water.

They stepped into the elevator together, and Cortez swiped his card for the penthouse level. “My wife and I would enjoy having you and your kids meet us for breakfast in the morning, your sitter, too. Around nine? Great,” he said without waiting for an answer. “See you there.”

Holy hell. Breakfast in a restaurant with a one-year-old was tough enough. But with two of them?

He stepped out onto the top floor, Javier going right as he went left.

The closer he came to the suite’s door, the louder the muffled sounds grew. Squealing babies. Damn. Was one of them hurt? He double-timed toward his room, whipped the key card through just as the door opened.

Alexa carried a baby on each hip—two freshly bathed and wet naked babies. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile wide. “I just caught them. Holy cow, they’ve got some speed for toddlers.”

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