At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? / High-Society Secret Baby. Rachel Bailey

ahead.

      “We’ll be there alone with a picnic basket. No one for hundreds of miles. The grass is peppered with bluebells and the sun is warm.” He tried to assess her reaction. How thick should he lay it on? “Surrounding the field is a rainforest and—”

      Without turning, she interrupted, a reluctant smile on her face. “What planet has rainforest and a field of grass with bluebells growing beside each other?”

      Okay. Perhaps he’d gone too far. But at least she was smiling. “I said it was an ideal holiday, Macy. Work with me.”

      The tension in her shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay, keep going.”

      “As I said, we’ll be alone and we’ll run through the field toward the clear lake. When we reach it we strip off to our bathing suits and dive in.”

      “Do we check for crocodiles? Because if we’re in the north of Australia where a lot of the rainforest is, I think we should check for crocodiles first.” She faced him as she asked and the tension around her face had softened.

      His chest swelled. It was working. He nudged a little closer and whispered, “There are no crocodiles in my lake. It’s safe and the water’s always warm.”

      “Good.” Her hand released its death-grip on his to a more companionable clasp.

      “We swim lazily until we’ve had enough.” This near, he could smell the scent of her skin, wanted to lean across that last space separating them and kiss her neck. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath. “Then we drag ourselves from the water and lie on towels on the grass, letting the sun dry our skin.”

      The plane slowed for the final approach, engines straining and Macy jerked back into the tense position of earlier, her hand almost cutting off the blood supply in his.

      “The setting looks good, but you look better in your bathing suit. It’s red.”

      Ryder could see the battle in her body, between the fear and interest in his story. He decided to give his side an advantage over the enemy. Leaning that last inch, he whispered in her ear, “You roll over and run a hand down my bare back and I invite you onto my towel.”

      He felt it, he was winning—there was a change in the energy her body emitted.

      “Do I go?” she breathed.

      “You do. And you lie so close I can’t think straight. All my mind registers is the feel of your body.”

      The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac and the plane wobbled as it found its balance. Macy didn’t jerk away, instead seeming to lean into him.

      “I wrap my arms around you, wanting you so badly—”

      Macy turned to claim his mouth as the plane raced along the tarmac, her tongue plunging in to meet his and he matched her move for move. He clasped her face with both hands, having turned himself on as much as her with his story.

      He pulled at the pins in her hair and let it tumble gloriously down around his hands. The silken feel raised his blood pressure another notch.

      He tasted her lips, her mouth, not able to get enough. Both of them were jostled as the plane pulled up but he barely felt it. Barely noticed a thing other than Macy until the lights came back on and the door to the cockpit opened.

      “Macy,” he said against her lips. “We need to leave.”

      The fog of lust in her eyes gradually cleared and then she bit down on her swollen bottom lip.

      “Thank you.” She said it quietly, but the heartfelt meaning in the two words couldn’t have been clearer.

      “You’re welcome.” He stood and they both collected their carry-on luggage. He grabbed her hand and squeezed before they filed out of the plane and across the tarmac to their waiting limousine.

      He knew she’d probably erect more barriers between them now he’d seen her vulnerable. But he’d be damned if he’d regret that kiss. It’d been incredible.

      And he couldn’t stop thinking about how to make it happen again.

      The driver Macy had engaged for their trip dropped them in front of the shopping plaza downtown, then took their bags to the hotel. A dark car sent by the security firm Ryder hired in Melbourne had met them at the airport and now pulled over to let two men out. They stood on the pavement, a few feet away. Macy’s shoulders tensed involuntarily, but she forced them to relax—far better to have the security there than not.

      She edged closer to Ryder, amongst the people jostling and rushing, and pointed to the empty shop in front of them. “This is the one we’ve come to see.”

      Ryder lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and stepped forward. “Main street, ground floor, corner with double frontage. Looks ideal.”

      The front was all glass, which would give great views of the chocolate products, though it had been covered in newspaper from the inside so they couldn’t see in.

      A horn beeped in the traffic behind them, and Macy turned to the cars before Ryder’s voice brought her attention back to him. “Is the agent meeting us here?”

      “I had the driver pick up the key before meeting us, so we can just go in on our own.” She withdrew the key from her briefcase and unlocked the door.

      Ryder said a few words to the security then walked in behind her and shut the door. Abruptly, most of the sounds of the city cut off, as did the daylight. Crossing the room, she fumbled along the controls behind the counter until she found the light switches. She flicked them all on, drenching the room in bright neon lights.

      She turned slowly, surveying a countertop that had been left by the previous tenant. It was an old wooden, carved bench. Unfortunately it would have to go—it didn’t match the image they were after. All their fittings would be sleek glass and chrome. She ran a hand along the corner of the countertop, feeling its solidity. Its beauty of shape. A smile curved her lips—when she was running her own company, she’d have furnishings like this.

      Another car horn outside made her look up, and she realized Ryder was at the edge of the room, leaning against a wall, hands in pockets, watching her. Even from six feet away, she could see his eyes were dark. And feel his heat.

      She frowned and laid her briefcase on the counter. Keeping the image of a professional career woman was paramount when she was around him. Not giving him more openings to sway her to his plans of marriage and buying her father’s company.

      The kiss on the plane had been a mistake—she’d let her fear and vulnerability affect her actions. Though it had been incredibly sweet of Ryder to distract her with the story. She almost smiled at the memory, but stopped herself. He may have been sweet, but she couldn’t forget his real agenda. A business marriage.

      She stepped out from behind the counter and straightened her spine. “This is the front-runner of the retail spaces we’ve investigated, primarily for the location but it also has the floor space we need, and good access for regular deliveries.”

      Ryder pushed off the wall as if he’d never been staring at her and walked the floor, measuring by his stride. “It seems good. How’s the price relative to similar properties?”

      “More expensive than the others I short-listed, but when the extra features are taken into account, it’s comparable.”

      Ryder continued pacing the room, assessing features as he went. “What length lease are they offering?”

      “When I spoke to the agent, she—”

      The door opened and a flash went off to her right, interrupting her sentence. Ryder swore and strode to the door, slammed it shut and locked it. Then he moved to a side wall and pulled back a corner of newspaper to look out.

      A cold shiver ran across her skin. “Is it them?”

      Without looking back, Ryder nodded. “About six paparazzi. It seems our supposed romance is still