The Billionaire's Daddy Test

by Charlene Sands

  Adam took his eyes off the road and turned to her. “Okay, if you’re sure.” He didn’t seem convinced.

  “My foot’s feeling better already. I’m sure.”

  He nodded and sighed, turning his attention back to the road.

  “How far?”

  “I’m parked at lifeguard station number three.”

  “Got it.”

  It was less than a mile, and she kept her focus on the glossy waters of Moonlight Beach as he drove the rest of the way in silence. Too soon, they entered the parking lot. “There’s my car.” She pointed to her white Toyota Camry. He pulled up next to it. The Rolls looked out of place in a parking lot full of soccer-mom vans and family sedans. A mustard-yellow school bus was unloading a gaggle of giggling children.

  “Hang on,” he said. “I’ll get your gear. Just show me where it is on the beach.”

  Whoops. She’d lied about that. She didn’t have so much as a beach towel on the sand. Blinking, she stalled for time. “Oh, I guess I forgot. I must have put everything in my trunk before I took my walk.”

  Adam didn’t seem fazed, and she sighed, relieved. He climbed out of the car, jaunted around the front end of the Rolls and stopped on the passenger side. She opened the car door, and he was there, ready to help her out.

  His hands were on her again, lifting her, and a warm jolt catapulted down to her belly. She’d never felt anything quite like it before, this fuzzy don’t-stop-touching-me kind of sensation that rattled her brain and melted her insides.

  He set her down, and she put weight on her foot. “I’m okay,” she said, gazing into eyes softened by concern.

  “You’re sure?”

  “If you can just help me to my car, I’ll be fine.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, and there it was again—warm, gooey sensations swimming through her body. She half hopped, half walked as he carefully guided her to the driver’s side of the car.

  “Your keys?” he asked.

  She dug her hand into the front pocket of her shorts and came up with her car key. “Right here.”

  He stared at her. “Well, then. You’re set.”

  “Yes.”

  Neither one of them moved. Not a muscle. Not a twitch.

  Around them noises of an awakening beach pitched into the air, children’s laughter, babies crying, the roar of the waves hitting the shore, seagulls squawking, and still, it was as if they were alone. The beating of her heart pounded in her skull. Adam wasn’t going to say anything more, although some part of her believed he wanted to.

  She rose up on tiptoes, lifted her eyes fully to his and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Adam. You’ve been very sweet.”

  His mouth wrenched up. “Welcome.”

  “I’d love to repay you for your kindness by cooking you one of my grandmother’s favorite Tuscan dishes, but—”

  “But?” His brows arched. He seemed interested, thank goodness.

  “My stove is on the blink.” Not exactly a lie. Two burners were out and the oven was temperamental.

  He shook his head. “There’s no need to repay me for anything.”

  Her hopes plummeted, yet she kept a smile on her face.

  “But I love Italian food, so how about cooking that meal at my place when you’re up to it?”

  At his place? In that gorgeous state-of-the-art kitchen? Thank goodness for small miracles. “I’d love to. Saturday night around seven?” That would give her three days to heal.

  “Sounds good.”

  It was a date. Well, not a date.

  She was on a mission and she couldn’t forget that.

  Even if her mouth still tingled from the taste of his skin on her lips.

  * * *

  Adam removed his glasses and set them down on the drafting table. He leaned back in his seat and sighed. His tired eyes needed a rest. He closed them and pinched the bridge of his nose as seconds ticked by. How long had he been at it? He turned his wrist and glanced at his watch. Seven hours straight. The villa off the southern coast of Spain he was designing was coming along nicely. But his eyes were crossing, and not even the breezes blowing into his office window were enough to keep him focused. He needed a break.

  And it was all because of a beautiful woman named Mia. He’d thought of her often these past two days. It wasn’t often a woman captured his imagination anymore. But somehow this beautiful woman intrigued him. Spending those few hours with her had made him realize how isolated he’d become lately.

  He craved privacy. But he hadn’t minded her interrupting his morning, or her nosy questions. Actually, coming to her aid was the highlight of his entire week. He was looking forward to their evening together tomorrow night.

  “Adam, you have a phone call,” Mary said, bringing him his cell phone. Few people had his private number, and he deliberately let Mary answer most of the calls when he was working. “It’s your mother.”

  He always took his mother’s calls. “Thanks,” he said, and Mary handed him the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Adam, how’s my firstborn doing today?”

  Adam’s teeth clenched. The way she referred to him was a constant reminder that there had once been three of them and that Lily was gone.

  “I’m doing okay. Just finished the day’s work.”

  “The villa?”

  “Yeah. I’m happy with the progress.”

  “Sometimes I can’t get over that you design the most fascinating places.”

  “I have a whole team, Mom. It’s not just me.”

  “It’s your company, Adam. You’ve done remarkable things with your life.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose again. His mother never came right out and told him she was proud of him. Maybe she was, but he’d never heard the words and he probably never would. He couldn’t blame her. He’d failed in doing the one thing that would’ve made her proud of him, the one thing that would’ve cemented her happy life. Instead, he’d caused his family immense grief.

  “Have you spoken with your brother yet?”

  He knew this was coming. He braced himself.

  “Not yet, but I plan to speak with Brandon this week.”

  “It’s just that I’m hoping you two reconcile your differences. My age is creeping up on me, you know. And it’s something I’ve been praying for, Adam...for you and Brandon to act like brothers again.”

  “I know, Mom.” The only justice was that he knew his mother was giving Brandon the very same plea. She wanted what was left of her family to be whole again. “I’ve put in a few calls to him. I’m just waiting to hear back.”

  “I understand he’s in San Francisco, but he’ll be home tonight.” Home was Newport Beach for his brother. He was a pilot and now ran a charter airline company based out of Orange County. He and Brandon never saw eye to eye on anything. They were as different as night and day. Maybe that’s why Jacqueline, his ex-girlfriend, had gotten involved with his brother. She craved excitement. She loved adventure. Adam would never be convinced that she hadn’t left him for Brandon. Brandon was easygoing and free-spirited, while Adam remained guarded, even though he’d loved Jacqueline with all of his heart.

  “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll work it out with Brandon. He wouldn’t want to miss your birthday party. We both know how important it is to you.”

  “I want my boys to be close again.”

  Adam couldn’t see that happening. But he’d make sure Brandon would come to celebrate their mother’s seventieth birthday and the two of them would be civil to one another. “I understand.”

  It was the best he could do. He couldn’t make promises to his mother about his relationship with Brandon. There was too much pain and injury involved.

  “Well, I’d better say goodbye. I’ve got a big day tomorrow. A field trip to the Getty Museum. It’s been a few years since I’ve been there.”

  “Okay, Mom. Is Ginny going?”

  “Of course. She’s my Sunny Hills partner. We do everything together.”

&n
bsp; “And you haven’t gotten on each other’s nerves yet?”

  A warmhearted chuckle reached his ears. It was a good sound. One he didn’t hear enough from his mother. “Oh, we have our moments. Ginny can be overbearing at times. But she’s my best friend and next-door neighbor, and we do so love the same things.”

  “Okay, Mom. Well, have fun tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, dear.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  Adam hung up the phone, picturing his mom at Sunny Hills Resort. It was a community for active seniors, inland and just ten miles away from Moonlight Beach. Thankfully his mother hadn’t balked about leaving Oklahoma and the life she’d always known after his father died. Adam had bought her a home in the gated community, and she seemed to have settled in quite nicely, her middle America manners and charm garnering her many friendships. The activities there kept her busy. He tried to see her at least once or twice a month.

  Mary walked into his office. “It’s dinnertime. Are you hungry, Adam?”

  “I could eat. Sure.”

  “Would you like me to set you up on the veranda? Or inside the kitchen?”

  “Kitchen’s fine.”

  Mary nodded.

  Mary asked him every night, and he always had the same answer for her, but he never wanted her to stop asking. Maybe one night he’d change his mind. Maybe one night he’d want to sit outside and see the sun set, hear distant laughter coming from the shoreline and let faint music reach his ears. Maybe one night he wouldn’t want to eat in solitude, then watch a ball game and read himself to sleep.

  “Oh, and Mary?”

  She was almost out of the doorway when she turned. “Yes?”

  “Take the day off tomorrow. Enjoy a long weekend.”

  Sundays and Mondays were her days off. Adam could fare for two days without housekeeping help, unless something important came up. He made sure it didn’t. He had an office in the city where he met with his clients and had meetings with his staff. He often worked on his designs from home. His office was fully equipped with everything he needed.

  “Thank you, Adam. Does this have anything to do with that lovely girl you met the other day?”

  Mary had been with him since before he’d moved into his house. Some said she had no filter, but Adam liked her. She spoke her mind, and he trusted her, maybe more than some trusted their own relatives. She was younger than his mother but old enough to know the score. “If I told you yes, would you leave it at that?”

  A hopeful gleam shined in her blue eyes. “A date?”

  Of course she wouldn’t leave it alone. “Not really. She’s coming over to cook for me. As a thank-you for helping her.”

  Mary grinned, her face lighting up. “A date. I’ll make sure the kitchen is well stocked.”

  “It’s always well stocked, thanks to you, Mary. Don’t worry about it. I imagine she’s bringing over what she needs. So enjoy your Saturday off.”

  “And you enjoy your date,” she said. “I’ll go now and set the table for dinner.”

  She walked out of the room and Adam smiled. Mia was coming over to make him a meal. For all he knew, she felt obligated to reciprocate a favor. Not that what he’d done had been a favor; anyone with half a heart—that would be him—would’ve helped her out. Who wouldn’t stop for a woman bleeding and injured on the beach?

  A beautiful woman, with a knockout body and skin tones that made you want to touch and keep on touching. He had to admit, the thought of her coming over tomorrow got his juices flowing.

  And that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

  * * *

  “Gram, this is so hard,” Mia said, shifting her body to and fro, rocking baby Rose. The baby’s weight drained her strength and stung her arms, but she didn’t want to stop rocking her. She didn’t want to give up one second of her time with Rose. Her sweet face was docile now, so very peaceful. She was a joy, a living, breathing replica of her mama. How could she lose Anna a second time? “I can’t imagine not seeing her every day. I can’t imagine giving her up.”

  “She’s ours, too, you know.” Grandma Tess sat in her favorite cornflower-blue sofa chair. As she smiled her encouragement the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. “We won’t really be giving her up,” she said softly. “I’m sure...this Adam, he’ll do the right thing. He’ll allow you contact with the baby.”

  “Allow.” A frown dragged at her lips. She’d raised Rose from birth. They’d bonded. Now someone would have the power to allow her to see Rose?

  “He may not be the father, after all. Have you thought about that?”

  “I have,” she said, her hips swinging gently. “But my gut’s telling me he’s the one. Rose has his eyes. And his hair coloring. She’s not dark like us.”

  “Well, then, maybe you should get going. Lay the baby down in the playpen. She’ll probably sleep most of the night. We’ll be fine—don’t you worry.”

  “I know. She loves you, Gram.” Tears formed in her eyes. Her heart was so heavy right now. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to see Adam Chase tonight. She wanted to stay right here with Rose and Gram. She caught the moisture dripping from her eyes with a finger and sighed. “I won’t be late. And if you need me for anything, call my cell. I’ll keep it handy.”

  She laid the baby down in the playpen that served as the crib in Gram’s house. Wearing a bubblegum-pink sleep sack, Rose looked so cozy, so content. Mia curled a finger around the baby’s hair and, careful not to wake her, whispered, “Good night, Sweet Cheeks.”

  She left the baby’s side to lean down to kiss Gram’s cheek. Her skin was always warm and supple and soft like a feather down pillow. “Don’t bother getting up. I’ll lock you in.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Don’t forget the groceries.”

  “I won’t,” she said.

  As she passed the hallway mirror, she gave herself a glance. She wore a coral sundress with an angled shoulder and a modest hemline. Her injured foot had healed enough for her to wear strappy teal-blue flat sandals that matched her teardrop necklace and earrings. Her hair was down and slight waves touched the center of her back.

  “You look beautiful, Mia.”

  “Thanks, Gram.” She lifted the bag of foodstuffs she’d need to make the meal, glanced at Rose one more time and then exited her grandmother’s house, making sure to lock the door.

  The drive to Adam Chase’s estate was far too short. She reached his home in less than twenty minutes. Her nerves prickled as she entered the long driveway and pressed the gate button. After a few seconds, Adam’s strong voice came over the speaker. “Mia?”

  “Yes, hello... I’m here.”

  Nothing further was said as the wrought-iron gates slid away, concealing themselves behind a row of tall ivy scrubs. She drove on, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her heart pumping. She had half a mind to turn the car around and forget she’d ever met Adam Chase. If only she had the gumption to do that. He would never know he had produced a child. But how fair would that be to him or to Rose? Would she wonder why she didn’t know her father and try to find him once she grew up? Would she pepper her aunt Mia with questions and live her life wondering about her true parents?

  In her heart, Mia knew she was doing the right thing. But why did it have to hurt so much?

  She parked her car near the front of the house on the circular drive. Adam waited for her on the steps of the elaborate front door, his hands in the pockets of dark slacks. Her breath hitched. A charcoal silk shirt hugged arms rippling with muscle and his silver-gray eyes met hers through the car window. Before she knew it, he was approaching and opening the car door for her. His scent wafted up, clean and subtly citrus.

  “Hello, Mia.” His deep voice penetrated her ears.

  She took a breath to calm her nerves. “Hi.”

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I’m all healed up thanks to you.”

  “Good to hear. I’ve been looking forward to the meal you promised.” He stretched h
is hand out to her and she took it. Enveloped in his warmth, she stepped out of the car.

  “I hope I didn’t overstate my talents.”

  His gaze flowed over her dress first and then sought the depth of her eyes. “I don’t think you did.” A second floated by. “You look very nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  He spied the grocery bag on the passenger seat and without pause lifted it out. “Ready?”

  She gulped. “Yes.”

  He walked alongside her, slowing his gait to match hers. As they climbed wide marble steps, he reached for the door and pushed it open for her. Manners he had. Another plus for Adam Chase. “After you,” he said, and once again she stepped inside his mansion.

  “I still can’t get over this home, Adam. The bat cave is one thing, but the rest of this house is equally mind-blowing. I bet it was a dream of yours from early on, just like your gallery garage.”

  “Maybe it was.”

  He was definitely the king of ambiguity. Adam, guarded and private, never gave much away about himself. Already he was fighting her inquiries.

  “I’ve got wine ready on the veranda, if you’d like a drink before you start cooking.”

  “We.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You’re going to help me, Adam.” Maybe she could get him to open up while chopping vegetables and mincing meat.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought I’d just watch.”

  “That’s no fun.” She smiled. “You’ll enjoy the meal more knowing you’ve participated.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll try. But I’m warning you, I’ve never been too good in the kitchen.”

  “If you can design a house like this, you can sauté veggies. I’m sure of it.”

  He chuckled and his entire face brightened. Good to see. She followed him into the kitchen, where he set her bag down on an island counter nearly bigger than the entire kitchen in her apartment. Oh, it would be a thrill cooking in here.

  “So what’s the dish called?”

  “Tagliatelle Bolognese.”

  “Impressive.”

  “It’s delicious. Unless you’re a vegetarian. Then you might have issues.”

  “You know I’m not.”