The Billionaire’s Baby Plan

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “They still come every afternoon,” Tyrus assured him as he deftly poured the deep red wine and even before he’d finished, a shapely blonde girl appeared with a tray that she sat on a neighboring table before tossing her arms around Rourke’s shoulder to give him a long kiss right on the lips.

  Lisa’s jaw tightened and she pulled her hand out of Rourke’s. He didn’t protest. But then how could he?

  He had his arms full of French blonde who was all but sitting on his lap.

  “Rourke?” Another voice interrupted them, and Lisa looked up to see an older couple crossing the narrow street toward them.

  With a deep chuckle, Rourke finally set aside the pouting blonde. “Lisa, Martine,” he introduced carelessly as she rose.

  “Old friends?” Lisa lifted her eyebrows. Rourke laughed, which was no answer at all, but Lisa was glad to see the blonde move away and disappear into the small building. Tyrus just stood by, beaming.

  “I thought that was you.” The woman, gray-haired, chicly styled and with no hint of a French accent, reached them and took the hands Rourke held out, and lifted her cheeks for his kiss. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

  Lisa saw the look that passed between Rourke and the man accompanying her.

  “He did, darling.” The man, tall and balding, slid his arm over the woman’s slender shoulders as he shook Rourke’s hand. “I told you last week that he was coming to use the villa.”

  The woman frowned a little, then shrugged with a little laugh. “My memory,” she dismissed and focused on Lisa. “Are you a friend of Rourke’s?”

  Lisa was getting the impression that Rourke had plenty of “friends” in this part of the world.

  “You would be Rourke’s Lisa,” the man answered even before Rourke or Lisa could. He rounded the small table and took Lisa’s hand in both of his. Kindness shined out of his bright blue eyes. “He’s told us so much about you. I’m Griffin Harper,” the man said to her. “And Rourke’s not actually family, but Nora and I feel like he is, so I’m still going to say welcome to the family.” He leaned over and kissed Lisa’s cheek, giving her no room whatsoever for feeling awkward.

  “Of course!” The woman—Nora—clasped her hands together. “How could I forget? You got married again.” She darted around the table and enveloped Lisa in a quick, Chanel-scented hug. “If we’d have had more notice, we’d have come to New York for the ceremony. Honestly, I never thought he’d get over that unfortunate business with Taylor,” she whispered.

  Feeling more than a little bewildered, and definitely self-conscious being at the center of this attention, Lisa looked to Rourke. He obviously hadn’t heard Nora’s comment, since he and Griffin were busy pulling a second table and chairs closer.

  Martine appeared with more glasses, which Tyrus quickly filled before he lifted his own in a toast. “Pour l’amour.”

  “For love,” Griffin repeated, smiling benevolently.

  The fondness they all felt for Rourke was plainly evident and even though she felt a fraud, Lisa managed to smile and drink and even to eat the excellent bread and cheese that Rourke broke off and fed to her.

  The attention he gave her clearly delighted his friends, but she wasn’t so easily fooled.

  He was doing it to get under her skin.

  And unfortunately, was being all too successful at it.

  Then, when he whisked her partially finished glass of wine away from her to replace it with a bottle of sparkling water, Nora gave a little gasp. “You’re not drinking. Are you pregnant?”

  The lively chatter gave way to dead silence as everyone turned their attention to Lisa and she felt heat creep up her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide. “No—”

  “Not yet,” Rourke inserted. He lifted her hand, watching her boldly as he kissed her knuckles. “But we’re not planning to waste any time getting you there, are we, sweetheart?”

  Her face went even hotter. “The sooner the better,” she returned sweetly.

  Tyrus clapped Rourke on the back and then swept the blonde into his arms, pressing his hand against her abdomen. “Soon you’ll have many babies like Martine and me.”

  Lisa was startled. Martine was Tyrus’s wife?

  “That’s what we’re hoping,” Rourke drawled.

  Lisa slid her hand out of Rourke’s and reached for her bottled water. “How many children do you have?”

  “Five,” Tyrus said proudly.

  Lisa barely kept her jaw from dropping. Martine didn’t look old enough to have had five children. But then she didn’t much look like a wife, given the way she’d planted that kiss on Rourke.

  And judging by the amused glint in his eyes, he was probably reading her thoughts all too accurately.

  She angled her chin and looked at the Harpers. “Rourke hasn’t told me how you all met.”

  “Grif staked me when I first went into business for myself,” Rourke answered. “I wouldn’t be where I am now if not for him.”

  Griffin waved a hand. “An exaggeration. Rourke was always going places. Anyone who knew him could see that.”

  “Especially my niece,” Nora added. Her gaze turned toward Lisa. “You could be her twin, you know.”

  Griffin laughed a little too heartily. “She’s not interested in that, honey.” He poured the last of the wine into their glasses and handed the bottle to Tyrus, who disappeared into the building again with Martine. “Is everything at the villa meeting your satisfaction?”

  “As always,” Rourke assured him.

  Lisa could feel an awkward undercurrent, even if she couldn’t interpret the cause. “The villa is yours?”

  Nora nodded. “I’ve told Griffin that we should just sell it to Rourke. He’s offered often enough. But my husband won’t let it go.” She smiled at him, wrinkling her nose. “Sentimental old fool that he is.”

  “We spent our honeymoon there,” Griffin told Lisa. His hand was covering Nora’s on top of the table.

  It was very plain that they adored each other.

  “He bought it a year later,” Nora added. “Of course it needed a tremendous amount of renovations.”

  “Well, whatever changes you made, they were perfect. I’ve never seen such a beautiful place,” Lisa said truthfully. “The terraces alone are—”

  “Très romantique?” Martine had returned.

  “Very…romantic,” Lisa agreed. “But where do you stay if not your own villa?” She kept her focus on Nora, who seemed ever so much more pleasant than Martine and her voluptuous lips.

  “We have an apartment here in the village. It’s more convenient for us to be right here on a regular basis,” Griffin told her. “We get back to New York only a few times a year, but that’s where our main home is.”

  “My doctor is here in the village.” Smiling, Nora rolled her eyes. “Grif is constantly shuttling me off to see him.”

  “Only because I want you with me as long as I can have you.” Griffin cupped her cheek in his hand for a moment.

  The moment felt intensely private to Lisa and she looked away, her gaze falling on Rourke.

  His expression was hollow and, without thinking, she covered his clenched fist that rested on his thigh with her hand.

  The feel of Lisa’s hand on his drew Rourke’s attention long enough for him to pull his dark thoughts out of the abyss where they’d fallen. She was watching him, her eyes soft. Concerned.

  He loosened his tight fist and turned his palm until it met hers.

  Her gaze flickered for a moment, but in the end stayed on his. A tentative smile fluttered around the corners of her soft lips and just that easily he was wishing strongly that they were back in the privacy of the villa.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and she seemed content to stay that way until Tyrus brought lunch for all of them and she needed her hand to eat.

  By the time they were finished, several hours had passed and the sun was even higher in the sky. Tyrus and Martine had been forced to leave the table in
order to tend to the other customers who came to their bistro and Rourke could tell by the way Grif kept looking at Nora that it was time for them to be going as well, even though Nora kept dismissing the idea when Grif suggested it.

  “As pleasant as this is,” Rourke finally said with a deliberate grin, “this is our honeymoon. And I’m afraid my bride keeps me pretty bewitched.” He rose from the table and went around to drop a kiss on Nora’s softly lined cheek. “Take care of your old man, you hear?”

  Nora laughed and patted his face. “That would be a switch, wouldn’t it?” She looked across the table at Lisa. “Taylor, dear, you and Rourke have got to visit us more often. Particularly when those babies finally start arriving. I want to be around to play with my grandnieces and nephews.”

  Rourke caught the way Lisa’s smile wobbled a little and wished to hell that he’d thought ahead to this before hustling her into the village where he’d known it was likely they’d run into the Harpers.

  “Nora, this is Lisa, not Taylor,” Grif said patiently.

  Nora’s brows drew together, her confusion plain. “I… It is?” She looked at Lisa apologetically. “I’m so sorry, dear. You’re a friend of Rourke’s?”

  “Yes,” Lisa answered gently. “I’m a friend of Rourke’s.” She leaned over the table to clasp Nora’s fluttering hands. “And I very much enjoyed meeting you and your husband.”

  The concern melted from Nora’s face. “You are a dear.” She looked up at Rourke. “I hope you realize she’s a keeper.”

  Lisa’s cheeks were pink as she straightened and sent him a fast glance. He slid his arm around her slender waist. “Don’t worry, Nora. I know exactly what I’ve got.”

  He felt the way Lisa stiffened at that, but she didn’t move away or say a word. Probably because she was too decent to cause Nora and Grif any concern.

  Grif clasped Rourke’s shoulder. “If we don’t see you again before you head back to the States, we’ll definitely see you in November at the awards gala in New York.” His gaze switched to Lisa. “It’s not every day that I get to present this guy with an award. I’m not going to let him miss it.”

  “It’s on my calendar,” Rourke assured him, wishing Grif would drop it.

  But Lisa’s interest was obviously already piqued. “What’s the award for?”

  “The G.R. Harper Philanthropic Award.”

  Lisa looked startled. “You’re that Harper? There isn’t anyone on the eastern seaboard who hasn’t heard of that award.”

  Grif laughed. “My father instituted it. I’m just chairman of the family’s foundation now. And thanks to guys like your husband who understand the importance of philanthropy, we’re still in business helping thousands of people every year. But I’m preaching to the choir. You’d already know that.”

  Lisa smiled, no hint of the fact that she undoubtedly didn’t, showing on her face. “Yes. Rourke is…quite something.”

  “And I wouldn’t show at all if I could get out of it,” Rourke reminded Grif.

  “You’ll show if only to shame other corporations into trying to win the award next year by giving even more money.”

  Since that was the truth of it, Rourke couldn’t very well deny it. But at last, Grif dropped the subject and after a kiss on Lisa’s cheek, he waved them off.

  Lisa waited until they were out of sight of the bistro before she pulled away from him. “How much did you give?”

  She would find out anyway when the awards deal rolled around, so he told her and her eyes widened. “Well. If you can give away that much, no wonder you can afford to fund the institute the way you are.”

  “Right. So can we drop it?”

  “What makes you uncomfortable about it?”

  He exhaled. “I’m not interested in getting accolades for just doing what’s right.”

  She fell silent at that, but he could feel the speculative glances she kept throwing him. And she didn’t speak again until they’d reached the car. “Does Nora have Alzheimer’s?” Her voice was quiet.

  At least she’d dropped the award. “They discovered it about a year ago.” He pulled open her car door for her.

  She sank into the seat and looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “I believe you actually mean that.” He could see it in her eyes that, in the sunlight, looked like translucent coffee.

  Her lashes swept down suddenly, hiding those eyes altogether. She looked away and he thought briefly of his sister’s claim that Lisa was shy. He’d dismissed it out of hand at the time, but maybe Tricia hadn’t been so far off the mark, after all.

  Lisa’s fingers were smoothing the buttercup-yellow fabric of her dress over her legs. “Of course I mean it. It’s perfectly clear that they’re devoted to each other.”

  “They are.” He rounded the car and slid behind the wheel and started the engine. “Not that they haven’t had their trials, but they’ve always worked through them.” He sighed deeply. “This one, though—” He felt his throat tighten and gunned the engine around a corner. “I don’t know what Grif will do without her when that time comes.”

  “Rourke—” her voice softened “—that could still be a long way off, yet.”

  He nodded. Hoped.

  “Her medical care here is good? I mean, this is a very small town. Wouldn’t a larger facility have more treatment options?”

  “The doctor she sees is an expert in the field. He focuses primarily on research and development. A lot like Ted’s functions at the institute. The man’s supposed to be a genius and this is where he wants to work. So…this is where they’ve stayed. And Nora is comfortable with him.”

  “Which is important to Griffin.” She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand as she watched him. “And they’re both important to you.”

  “They’ve been good friends.”

  “Did you meet them because of Taylor?”

  Given Nora’s comments, he’d figured that question would come sooner or later whether he liked it or not. “No.” It had been the other way around.

  “So are you going to tell me who she is, or do I have to guess?”

  He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. “I imagine you’ve figured it out.”

  “She’s your ex-wife.” Her tone had cooled again. Sympathy no longer evident. “Whom I evidently resemble. A lot.”

  “My very ex-wife who bears a passing resemblance,” he said abruptly. “You interested in seeing Nice? It wouldn’t take long to drive there.”

  “And yet you claim you were never at the villa with her.” She ignored his attempted side trip—both verbal and literal. “Seems unlikely when the place belongs to her aunt and uncle.”

  “I was never at the villa with Taylor,” he repeated evenly. “Not before we married, not during our marriage and sure in hell not after it was over.”

  “Why not?”

  “What difference does it make? Just because I like the place doesn’t mean she did.”

  “Who wouldn’t like it?”

  She sounded indignant, and he almost wanted to laugh. “Let’s just say that the villa was a little too laid-back for her tastes.” Those had run more toward glitter and excitement versus peaceful tranquility. And he really didn’t want to talk— or think—about his ex-wife any more than necessary.

  “So how did you meet the Harpers?”

  He slanted a look toward her. “You’re very full of questions this afternoon. Why?”

  That slender hand shading her eyes also shaded the expression in them. “We’re married. People will expect us to know these sorts of things about each other.” She hesitated for a moment. “If we’re going to be…having a child together…we should at least have honesty between us. Know these sorts of things about each other.”

  “There’s no if about it.” Not anymore. Not thanks to the combined brilliance of Bonner and Demetrious.

  “Fine. Since there will be a child, we should know this kind of stuff. Or at least make some attempt at knowing each other better if we
want to make this work at all.” Her chin lifted. “Or do you disagree?”

  He didn’t disagree. On the other hand, he was pretty curious why she was suddenly seeming as agreeable as she was. “Grif was a visiting professor in one of my sophomore university classes. Oddly enough, we hit it off.”

  “Why odd?”

  He slowed to a stop at a crossroads. “Because I was cheating on an exam. Now, do you want to go into the city or not?”

  “Why were you cheating?”

  “Because it was easier than studying and I hated English lit. He should have kicked me out of the class.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. He didn’t. And in the end, pretty much everything I know about being a decent man, I learned from him.” He exhaled. “Grif wouldn’t exactly approve of our arrangement.”

  “You knew what being good meant before you went to college. You told me you were a Boy Scout, remember?”

  “A rotten one,” he drawled.

  “What happened to your father?”

  “Enough questions for now. Nice or not?”

  She looked one way down the empty road. Then the other. “Not.”

  He turned the car in the direction of the villa.

  “Tyrus and Martine seem very friendly. Particularly Martine.”

  He hid a smile. Yeah, Martine had really bugged her. Not that it was unusual. Martine had a way of bugging most women. “They’re interesting people. Tyrus used to own a five-star hotel in Paris.”

  “And his wife?” The last word had a decided edge to it.

  “Adores him.”

  She huffed softly. “Really. She goes around kissing everyone like that? Or does she just reserve that particular greeting for you?”

  “Admit it.” He ran his finger down the nape of her neck. “You are jealous. First it was Sylvie. Now it’s Martine?”

  “Please. I just feel sorry for Tyrus.”

  “Tyrus is as proud of his attractive wife as he is proud of his hellion kids.”

  “And he doesn’t mind that you and his wife are—” She gave him an eyebrow-arched look.

  “Are nothing.”

  “Then what were you kissing her for?”

  “Maybe you need glasses, princess. Martine was kissing me.”