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Diamonds are for Sharing: Her Valentine Blind Date / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds / The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire
Diamonds are for Sharing: Her Valentine Blind Date / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds / The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire
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Diamonds are for Sharing: Her Valentine Blind Date / Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds / The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire

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That shut her up. She couldn’t help but feel it was a bit melodramatic. She supposed that was the Italian in him. But it left her speechless nonetheless. After all, what would she be willing to do for the people she loved best?

“Not that,” she whispered to herself as he turned and left the room.

She watched him go, then followed him out into the living room, ready to ask him more about this, but he sandbagged her with a question of his own.

“So what did you think of your blind date?” he asked, sinking into the sleek yet comfortable couch.

“Who? Randy?” She flopped down into a chair across from where he was sitting. Her chin rose. “Obviously, he’s perfect for me,” she said with only a tiny touch of sarcasm.

He caught her nuance. “Is he?” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.

“Of course.” She shrugged. “Hand picked, in fact, by my best friend, Mara. And she was right. Can’t you tell?”

He allowed himself a halfhearted grin. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy. Funny guy. I enjoyed him.”

“Me, too.” She punched a pillow. “He’s exactly the sort of man I need.”

“Ya think?”

“Yes.” She faced him frankly. “He’s very calm and very …” She drew in a long, deep breath. “Very ordinary.”

“Ordinary.” He frowned thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow. He’d never thought of that quality as an attribute. “Is that a plus?”

She nodded. “I’m ordinary. What’s wrong with ordinary?”

He gave her a look. Maybe the word didn’t mean just what he thought it did. “Did I say anything was wrong with ordinary?”

“Ordinary can be okay,” she said a bit defensively. “I come from ordinary people. My father was an accountant, my mother worked in a bank.”

“Do they live in Dallas?”

She shook her head. “No. My mother died of cancer and my father died of a broken heart.”

“Ah.” He nodded. He understood that sort of thing.

“It’s true you don’t get the thrilling highs with ordinary,” she went on. “But you don’t get the bone-rattling lows, either.” She winced, thinking of Brian. “Excitement can be scary when it goes bad,” she added softly.

He noted the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. There had been some scary excitement in her life, something that had gone badly. Of course, there were the deaths of her husband and child she’d told him about. Tragedies like that could have life-crippling effects on a person. But he had a feeling this was something more deeply rooted in the past, and maybe more specific to one person—for instance, her husband. What else could have made her so wary of a relationship?

It only made sense. When you lost a significant other who made you happy, you tended to be in a hurry to replicate that happiness as soon as the grieving period began to die down a bit. People with good relationships believed in good relationships. She was scared to connect. Something had gone wrong somewhere along the line.

He wanted to ask her about that, find out what was troubling her, but he held back. He didn’t want to scare her off, and he knew she didn’t want to talk about personal things. She had to be coaxed, cajoled and brought along casually. He would take his time.

“So what about me?” he said instead. “Would you call me an ordinary guy?”

“Hardly.” Her sudden smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, fascinating him. “You’re the sort mothers warn their daughters to stay away from, don’t you think?”

“Me?” He was genuinely startled that she felt that way. Truth to tell, he didn’t consider himself exactly ordinary, but he didn’t relish the bad-boy role either. “So what’s scary about me?”

“Nothing, I guess.” She was still smiling that radiant smile. “You haven’t scared me yet.”

He noted the “yet.”

“But you are a little larger than life,” she added, just to be clear.

He frowned, not sure he was going to like this. “In what way?”

“Let’s just put it this way—you’re a little too exciting. Too good-looking. Too powerful. Too adventurous. Shall I go on?”

“No. That’s plenty.” His frown deepened. “And not really fair.”

“Fair has nothing to do with it,” she told him firmly. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m definitely ordinary? I can’t help it. I was born this way. And naturally, if I’m going to have a relationship again, I need an ordinary man.”

There it was, the point this whole conversation seemed to be leading up to. She was giving him a message.

“Like Randy,” he said softly.

She nodded, her eyes huge in the gloomy light. “Yes.”

He gave her an incredulous look. Randy was all well and good, but he wasn’t right for Cari. She needed someone … well, someone more like Max himself. Someone with a little style and energy.

“You need excitement,” he stated firmly.

She shook her head, challenging him with her bright gaze. “No. I need security.”

He stared at her, mulling that over. What did she think she was, ready for retirement?

“Bull,” he said at last. Rising from the couch, he erased the distance between them, reached out and took her hand and pulled her up to face him.

“What in hell makes you think you’re ordinary?” he demanded, face-to-face. “You’re careful. You’re responsible. You’re a good person. If you think that makes you ordinary, you have a higher definition of the term than I do.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I think that makes you pretty special.”

She was tingling. He made her tingle more and more lately. Was that a good thing? Probably not.

What if he was right? That was what scared her. The thing was, Randy was exactly the kind of man she had decided she could deal with, if the need came. Mara had said it best—Randy was perfect. But did her senses zing when he smiled at her? Did she feel faint when he touched her? Did her breathing stall when he whispered near her ear? Did she tingle?

Hardly. Things never worked out that way, did they?

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” she said, pulling away from him and backing toward the nursery.

“Alone?” he said, pretending a plaintive tone, but obviously just teasing.

“Alone.” She smiled one last time, then turned, went into the nursery and closed the door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

IF MAX had been one to fantasize what mornings with a wife and child would be like, this would have been a part of that dream. He walked into the nursery with two mugs of coffee and there was Cari, standing in the sunlight streaming in through the window with a baby in her arms, singing a lullaby. She wore his big T-shirt and nothing else, and her bare legs looked golden and gorgeous in the morning light. She turned to greet him, her hair wild around her face, and she smiled that smile that could knock him dead, beaming happiness and welcome.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “Bella,” he said softly. “Bellissima.”

“I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” she said. Her gaze traveled appreciatively over him in a way that made his pulse quicken. He’d put on a pair of tight jeans and a shirt he hadn’t buttoned yet out of expediency, but if she would like what she saw as much as she seemed to, he would do it more often.

“I brought coffee,” he said.

“I see that,” she replied.

“Here.” He set the mugs down on the dresser and turned to her. “Let me hold him.”

Her eyes widened. “You really want to?”

He nodded. “If all goes well, I’m planning to raise this child,” he said simply. “I want to do it right.”

“If all goes well,” she echoed thoughtfully as she handed Jamie to him. “In other words, if Sheila lets you take him.” And why would a mother do that without putting up a very fierce fight? Well, she had to admit, this mother didn’t seem to be quite as interested in being a mother as one would hope. Max might very well be able to negotiate something with her for enough money. But that was only a part of the problem.

She frowned, then asked a question she knew would be unpopular. “What if the DNA comes back negative, Max? What if there is no biologic connection to your brother? What then?”

He shrugged dismissively, smiling down at Jamie all the while. “I don’t think that will happen.”

“But don’t you think you ought to be prepared just in case? What do you plan to do with this baby if he isn’t Gino’s?”

His gaze rose and met hers. “I’ve already talked to a lawyer. They’re setting up legal strategies for when the DNA results comes in. We’ll play it by ear.”

Cari felt chilled. “If Sheila isn’t found and Jamie isn’t Gino’s, will you just go off and leave him?”

His face hardened. “Cari, I told you, I don’t think that is something we will have to face. Drop it.”

He was right. She had to drop it. If she didn’t, she would be riling herself up over something she couldn’t do anything about. It was best to let it be for now. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and tried to move on.

But the prospect of seeing Jamie abandoned wouldn’t fade from her mind. She knew she couldn’t let that happen. If it came to that, she would do something. It only bothered her that Max couldn’t make that commitment himself right now. And that made her think she’d been right to come to stay with them. Someone had to protect the baby.

They played with Jamie for another ten minutes and then his eyelids began to droop. Max laid him down gently in the crib and Cari pulled his little blanket up over him.

“Isn’t he adorable?” she said, smiling down at the shocking head of dark hair.

“He’s okay,” Max said gruffly. “He’ll do.”

She smiled to herself. He was more soft on Jamie than he would admit. It wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t be able to turn his back on this baby no matter what.

Looking up, she found him watching her, and his intention was clear as a bell.

“Max,” she said warningly, taking a step backward. He was looking very seductive in a very Italian way, and she was feeling particularly susceptible to Italians this morning. Danger!

Reaching out, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “I’m sorry Cari, but you’re too beautiful to resist this morning. I have to kiss you.”

“Oh, Max, no.”

“Just a simple good-morning kiss. Nothing more.”

“Max …”

Somehow his name turned into a sigh, and then she was parting her lips to accept his mouth on hers. She shouldn’t do this. She’d warned herself from the start not to let this happen. But now that he was here, so close, so male, so hard and insistent, she felt so soft, so female, so ready to mold herself to whatever his passion might suggest. His mouth was hot, his tongue provocative, and she sensed her own needs beginning to waken from a long, long slumber.

His shirt was still open and she ran her hands over his muscular chest, trembling as she felt the pounding of his heart beneath her fingers. He groaned, pulling her closer, and she melted like wax against his tall, hard frame. There was only the thin fabric of the T-shirt between them. He wanted her with a force that stunned him. This was something on a different level than he usually felt. This was new. This was sweeter and more overpowering than he was used to.

He sighed against her neck, murmuring her name as he dropped kisses and let his tongue caress her. She gasped as the heat from his body flooded her with sensation. She could sense his desire quickening and that gave her a taste of power she’d never known before. He was reacting to what her body did to him. That took her breath away.

She knew it was time to put a stop to this, but she couldn’t quite muster the strength to do it yet. She was struggling to surface from a sea of pleasure, struggling to push her head back above water and breathe real air instead of this enchanted substance that felt so intoxicating, but was so dangerous. The truth was, she didn’t want to stop.

And then there was a loud knocking at the door of the suite.

“Hey, y’all, here we are.”

The voice was C.J.’s. The groan was Max’s. He dropped his face into the curve of her neck and swore softly as he dropped a string of kisses on her skin.

“What time is it?” Cari murmured groggily as he began to pull back from her.

“Too early for visitors,” Max grumbled.

But he unwrapped his arms from around her reluctantly and went to the door anyway, letting in C.J. and Randy. Cari watched him go, feeling cold all of a sudden. Max’s simple morning kiss had proven to be pretty darn special. She could grow to like this. In fact, she might get addicted if she didn’t watch out.

She pulled her arms in and hugged them close. But no matter how hard she held herself, she knew she would never come close to duplicating the magic of Max’s embrace.

“We brought doughnuts,” C.J. cried, waving the bag around as she entered the living room.

Cari slipped her fake fur shrug over the T-shirt and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked ridiculous, but she didn’t have much choice. It was either this or wrap herself in a bed sheet. So she came out, head held high and smiling.

And then she saw the doughnuts. Her downfall.

“Wow,” she said as C.J. spilled them out onto a plate. “Those look great.”

“Don’t they? We got them at a bakery Randy deals with.”

C.J. looked at her sharply, and she knew she was looking for signs of hanky-panky. The signs might very well be there. Cari was still reeling from Max’s kisses and she didn’t really care who knew it. C.J.’s gaze raked over the giant-size T-shirt with disdain, but Cari met her gaze unblinkingly. Whatever C.J. thought, she wasn’t going to show her any embarrassment. Let her deal with that.

C.J. pursed her lips, but seemed to accept that there was nothing she could do about anything between Max and Cari at the moment, so she let it go.

“Did you know our boy Randy has a catering business?” she said, giving him a quick smile that served to include him in the group.

Cari blinked, looking at the jovial man. “I thought you were a stockbroker.”

“That’s my day job.” He grinned at her and snagged the biggest doughnut.

“He hates it,” C.J. announced to the world at large. “That’s why he started up this little ole catering business on the side. He loves setting up parties.”

“No kidding.” Cari wondered if Mara knew about that side of her husband’s cousin. He looked more like a stockbroker than a caterer, but then, what did a caterer look like?

“Yup. I’m getting him some clients. I know people who give huge parties.”

Cari was impressed. It seemed C.J. had her uses after all. “Wow. Lucky Randy.”