His Surprise Daughter : A BWWM Billionaire Romance

by Tiana Cole

  She cried out when his finger dipped inside her wet, aching center. “Caine, please.” The sensations ravaging her body were unreal, she’d never felt so sensitized, so out of control. She felt feral, clawing at his back as her feet scrambled for purchase on the bed.

  “Soon, my love.” His hands, his mouth, his fingers all worked together in a symphony of pleasure that turned her inside out. When his mouth touched between her legs, Zara’s groans sounded from deep in her throat, surprised at the level of pleasure her body was capable of.

  “Please, Caine.” Begging wasn’t beneath her, not when her body was wound so tight she thought she might snap from the tension. And then in one quick move Caine was sliding into her wet heat. Their coupling was quick and fast, intense and explosive. Her head spun in a psychedelic trip as her body slowly came down.

  “Zara,” he groaned in her ear, his hips still moving in slow and steady strokes designed to drive her mad. His hands traveled up her body, caressing her arms until they were over her head and he was kissing the hell out of her.

  Her eyes opened and settled on his, dark, green and intense as hell. “Yes, Caine?” Was that sexy, breathless voice hers?

  His gaze was serious, his handsome face twisted in desire. “I love you, Zee, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Before she could respond in kind, his mouth was on hers, kissing her until she was breathless and panting. “I want to marry you. To spend the rest of my life making you happy and loving you.”

  Zara couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly. Caine wanted to marry her? Tears welled in her eyes but they couldn’t fall thanks to the steady movements of his hips. “Oh, Caine, do you really mean that?”

  He nodded. “From the depths of my heart.”

  “Yes!” She reached for him, pulling him closer so she could get a good look at those gorgeous green eyes. “Yes, oh, I can’t wait to marry you, Caine! It’ll be even better than we always dreamed.”

  She felt his deep chuckle reverberate through her. “Damn straight, babe. I’ll make you so happy you’ll never want me to leave.”

  “I want you with me always.” As she spoke the words, Zara knew they were true. When she looked down the road, she saw Caine beside her. Both of them with grey hair sitting in rocking chairs and sipping sweet tea. Cupping his face gently, a sparkle caught her eye to the left and she gasped. “Oh, Caine! It’s absolutely stunning!” Tears pooled at the sight of the emerald cut pink diamond surrounded by sparkling smaller diamonds. “I love it and I love you.”

  ~

  Caine emerged from the bedroom feeling light, free and so happy he could whistle. So he did, he whistled on his way to the kitchen to make Christmas breakfast for his girls. In the bathroom he’d found a bottle of organic shaving cream, giftwrapped to Daddy, and smiled. Loving Zara was a great way to start the day

  Inside the kitchen, he pulled out everything he would need to whip up a breakfast feast. On the counter next to the stove he stopped at the sight of a plaid giftwrapped box. When he opened it, Caine laughed at the Trust me I’m a Chef apron he found inside the red and green tissue paper. Receiving these small gifts from his daughter warmed Caine’s heart. This was the first time since he was ten that he looked forward to Christmas, and so far it hadn’t disappointed. “Coffee,” he groaned, and brewed a pot, pulling two mugs out since Zara would be out soon. “Unbelievable.” He laughed again when he pulled out a coffee mug decorated with curly red ribbons, proclaiming him World’s Greatest Dad.

  “You got my gifts, Dad?”

  Caine turned and picked her up, smacking a big kiss to her cheek. “I sure did, and I loved every one of them. Thank you.” He’d gone a little overboard with buying Christmas gifts for Zara and Cassia, which was why he’d put them in another location. He set her on a stool at the counter and pulled the cinnamon buns from the oven. “Hungry?”

  “Starved.” She patted her belly and smiled up at him.

  “What smells so good?” Zara breezed into the kitchen looking so beautiful and Christmas-y in a fitted red sweater dress, cable knit tights and knee boots. Daddy’s sexy little elf.

  “Daddy made sticky buns!”

  Caine smiled at Zara’s impressed expression and slid a cup of coffee to her. “I figured we could eat before we head out.”

  “I can’t believe Mom and Dad are making us meet them somewhere. That’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

  Caine shrugged. He couldn’t say a word or he’d give up his secret, and it wasn’t time. Not yet. By the time breakfast was done, the dishes were rinsed and everyone was packed inside the car, Caine bursting with excitement. “Cassia, I’ve asked your mother to marry me.”

  “You did? Oh my god, oh my god, Mommy, you said yes, right? Right? Mommy!”

  Caine laughed and quieted her down. “She said yes.” If there was any doubt how Cassia felt, her enthusiastic fist pumps told him a lot.

  “So I was thinking we probably need more space. There are three of us now, and later, maybe there will be more.” He wanted to be there this time for every hour of Zara’s pregnancies, because he definitely wanted more kids. He stopped just shy of the driveway of a beautiful two-story ranch house.

  “Who’s house is this?” Zara peeked through the windshield.

  “Ours,” he said simply, smiling at his girls. “Merry Christmas, and welcome to our new family home.”

  “It’s beautiful, Caine.” She gave him a watery smile and cradled his face in her hands. “Thank you. But…are you sure you want to live outside Anchorage?”

  “This is the perfect spot for us. Fifteen minutes to your office and twenty-five to mine.” He kissed her. “This is our future, babe.”

  “Our future,” she whispered back, and kissed him hard.

  “Ew, guys. Gross.”

  Cassia’s admonishment pulled them apart and they all made their way into their new home. “Merry Christmas, everyone!” Brenda and Lyle had stayed the night here, cooking while the movers spent the previous days setting up.

  “Merry Christmas!” Caine walked forward with Cassia in his arms, both hugging and kissing Brenda before double-teaming Lyle too.

  “You knew about this,” Zara accused her parents with a smile.

  “Of course we did, honey. When Caine asked for our help, we were happy to do it. This place is lovely.” Lyle wrapped her in a hug. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  “You too, Daddy.”

  “Can we open more presents now?”

  Caine threw his head back and laughed at Cassia’s inability to stay patient in the face of presents. His little girl was a sucker for gifts, even something as simple as a new laptop or space-themed shoelaces. She would make sure there was never a dull moment in Caine’s life, and he welcomed every crazy, chaotic moment.

  As he sat back watching his new family, the family of his heart, opening their gifts, Caine felt relaxed into the brand new sectional sofa with his daughter on his lap. This was his first real family Christmas, because the Faulkners weren’t a sit around the tree and happily open presents type of family. But nothing beat the joy on Brenda’s face when she opened up the three-month cruise he and Zara had bought for them. Or the excitement in Cassia’s green eyes when she laid eyes on her galaxy-theme bicycle.

  “Without training wheels? Thank you so much!” She threw herself into their arms, pressing kisses to his cheek and then Zara’s.

  He felt right. Caine was at home, never more so than watching Zara’s face light up at the vintage typewriter he’d gotten her. “For your first book.” Her gaze melted and she kissed him gently.

  “Daddy, will you help me open this present?”

  One look at those big, innocent green eyes and he was a goner. “Of course, hop on up.” She did and together they shredded the beautiful silver and gold snowman printed paper and pulled out two t-shirts. “I think one of these is my size, kiddo.”

  She giggled and held up her t-shirt, smiling conspiratorially at Zara. “How does it look?”

&n
bsp; Caine read the words. “I’m the big sister so I make the rulez.” He looked up at Cassia and then to the shirt in his own hands. “Frantic father-to-be.” It couldn’t be. Finally, his gaze connected with Zara’s. “Is this for real?”

  She nodded. “It is. The day I came to your house.”

  He remembered that day well. “That couch is in my office.” He grinned and pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. “Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more, Zara.”

  “So you’re happy?”

  “Extremely.” And Caine knew they would all be happy like this for the rest of their lives.

  “Good.” Lyle stood and rubbed the slight bulge in his belly. “Let’s eat.”

  The End.

  Thank you for reading!

  AND IF YOU HAVE TIME FOR ONE MORE...

  Turn the page to read: “The Doctor's Secret” By Raven Rivers

  The Doctor's Secret

  Chapter 1

  Denise

  They say small towns are sleepy, and that the big cities are where the crime is at.

  Whatever. I know better.

  Several honors in investigative journalism, all of them awarded for uncovering corruption on the local beat, say different. It’s too easy to start pounding the pavement in Chicago looking for crime. Obviously, it’s under every rock: drug rings, police corruption, and the most recent blight on our urban landscape… sex trafficking. I hope there’s a special place in hell for guys that run that shit.

  When you think about it, corruption in the local government is much more insidious. A guy who runs a trafficking ring knows that he’s the scum of the earth—how could he not? He’d have to be delusional. But for a mayor of a small town to slowly siphon off money into his own pocket, say, or divert park funds into the local energy provider in exchange for support… to that guy, he’s just playing politics. To me, he’s abusing his public office, an office in which his people trusted him. An office from which he promised to uphold the laws of the city, state, and nation. You won’t see a sex trafficker shaking hands at a Memorial Day parade, but Local Mayor Asshole wouldn't hesitate.

  “Denise,” my photographer, a twenty-year-old, heavily-tattooed kid named Lucky, said as he thumped me on the head. “You’re about to be up.”

  Lucky and I had left Chicago early to drive a hundred miles to Decatur, the county seat of Macon County. Their commissioner was a real piece of work named Thomas Sackville, one of the worst and most corrupt boneheads I've come across in my long career. My boss at the Tribune sent me after him six months before, and I’d gleefully put in ten hour days until I could find everything I needed to nail him.

  The marble courthouse loomed above us, austere and white. Lucky and I were seated on a park bench across the street, separated by Lucky’s massive backpack full of camera equipment. We were hoping to catch sight of the County Attorney on his way to breakfast. It was early, and I was tired—after too few hours of sleep, Lucky had snatched me from my apartment and refused to get coffee unless I cat-napped on the way. He was a pushy little jerk that way.

  I blinked my eyes and shook out my curls. “Where are my glasses?” Apparently, falling asleep on your photographer’s camera case isn't a good thing. He shook his head at me with unconcealed disapproval before dangling my tortoise-shell frames in front of my face.

  “Pull yourself together. Tubby’s on the move.”

  ‘Tubby’ was my affectionate nickname for Robert Atkins, the County Attorney that was supposedly in on the Commissioner’s illegal activities up to his neck. His long speeches on the laws and what an important part he played in the development of Macon County were the highest level of torture. And Lucky was right—he was down the steps of the marble courthouse and waddling his pudgy frame down Main St. to the local diner.

  Lucky snorted. “He does not need to be eating at Glenda’s.”

  Renowned across three counties for its homemade biscuits and pie crust, Glenda’s was the place for government officials to gather for coffee… and allegedly for deals.

  “You’re a vegan. You don’t want anybody eating anything, anywhere,” I pointed out. Traveling with Lucky was a huge pain in the ass because he never wanted to eat anywhere fun. French fries had to be cooked in peanut oil. Salad dressing had to be coconut-based. And never any milk products, ever. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it, having a moderate interest in eating at Glenda’s myself.

  “True,” Lucky agreed, rising from the park bench. “All that meat you eat is what slows you down.”

  “I’m not slow,” I protested as Lucky pulled me up by my wrists. “I’m very plucky when I've had coffee.”

  “Tubby first,” he said, pulling his backpack over his broad frame, thousand-dollar camera already in hand. “Coffee after.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, pulling out a cheap notebook and a grade-school pencil. My editor called me old-school, and he was right. I wasn't taping any conversation on any damn iPhone just to lose it when the software updated. No way. I would write words down the old-fashioned way, exactly how I hear them.

  I legged it across the street with Lucky close behind. “Mr. Atkins… Mr. Atkins, can I have a word?”

  Tubby paused and looked over his shoulder at me. “Are you the press?”

  Slowing my gait, I threw him a winning smile. “The press? No.”

  He put his hands on his hips, giving him the air of a five-year-old. “Yes, you are. You’re that local reporter from the Tribune.”

  Behind me, Lucky snorted behind his camera lens.

  “Yes, I’m a local reporter from the Tribune.”

  “So, that’s the press,” he sneered.

  “Can we talk about you for a second? I mean, I love the attention and all, but I feel like we should pay some attention to Commissioner Sackville’s involvement in a DEA scandal. Can you comment on that?”

  “No.”

  “Did I have it wrong? Was it the ATF?”

  “It was the DEA,” Tubby huffed.

  I took a step nearer to him. “Yes, Mr. Atkins. It was. How was the Commissioner involved again? Will there be an indictment soon, or is he just under investigation?”

  A fat finger rose to my face. “He’s not under indictment, Miss…”

  “Richards,” I provided. “And your involvement is?”

  “I’m not involved!” He blustered. “I just heard that…”

  I spread my hands. “Well, there has to be some reason for you to know so much, Mr. Atkins. Come on. Did he pull you into the deal? What was your cut?”

  The fellow’s face grew red as he growled at me. “I’m not talking to you about this anymore, Miss Richards. If you believe me to be guilty of some illegal activity, you can file a complaint and have me arrested.”

  He turned on his heel and paddled away from me, swinging his arms with great fervor. “I plan on it, Mr. Atkins!” I called gaily over his shoulder.

  Lucky and I watched him go. “You ready?” Lucky asked after a minute.

  I nodded. “You promised to buy me a coffee.”

  “So I did. I'll just expense it,” he said as we started walking towards Glenda’s at a respectable distance from Tubby.

  “Expense $1.49?” I chuckled. “Come on, you can’t be that cheap.”

  “I’m working my way through college. I can’t waste money on your unhealthy caffeine addiction.”

  We stopped in front of a glass door inscribed with the word ‘Glenda’s.’ Lucky pushed it open and held his camera aloft, moving aside for me.

  I took a deep breath and grinned. “Mmm. I smell pie.”

  “I smell animal products.”

  My eyes had landed on Tubby and the Commissioner together in a booth. “Speaking of pork…”

  Lucky nudged me. I scooted between Glenda’s many patrons and stopped at their table. “Good morning, guys. Man, that biscuit looks good. I’m Denise Richards from the Chicago Tribune. Nice to meet you,” I began with a feigned smile. “Commissioner Sackville, my paper is running a stor
y today on the DEA investigation into illegal activities going on in your office, specifically a bill that circumvents the DEA ban on illegal use of marijuana. My office has heard you have your own little pot ring. Mr. Atkins here did not confirm or deny, well, anything. But I'll give you a chance to comment.”

  I poised my pencil over my notebook and raised my eyebrows. Thomas Sackville was a lean, scary man; the complete opposite of his friend Tubby. He was guilty as hell and he knew it, but he wasn't afraid of me at all. His eyes told me that.

  He finished chewing and took a pull from his coffee mug, eyeing me over the porcelain rim. “No. Damn. Comment.”

  Lucky and I looked at each other. I sighed. “Are you sure? You’ll look better when the indictment comes out. It’ll look like you tried. Come on. Just one little comment?”

  Sackville’s eyes narrowed at me while Tubby looked on, incredulous. “No,” was all he said.

  I turned to Lucky. “They never comment.”

  “No, they don’t. It’s their loss, don’t you think?”

  I nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Their loss. Let’s go get a coffee.”

  Before leaving the table I passed a last glance over the two government officials. “When you get arraigned in the Macon County court, I'll be here to watch. Bye now.”

  Lucky already had my coffee in hand when I joined him. Glenda was fast.

  I took a long pull of strong, black coffee and grinned. “Lucky, I love my job.”

  ***

  The good feeling carried me all the way through the next few hours of driving back to Chicago and setting up shop in my office with Lucky. We holed up there for most of the afternoon, sifting through Lucky’s excellent shots of Tubby and Sackville’s faces. All we needed was a paragraph of copy, in which I angelically asked them to comment on their wrongdoings, and both of them got all red and defensive. It was easy to write since such stories were my bread-and-butter, so to speak.

  When Lucky and I finished our spread and sent it over to the Layout department, I let my head drop onto my desk.