Christmas with the Denton Billionaires: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  Her heart squeezed as his lips found hers again. It was the kiss that did it. The tender caress of his lips while he filled her, deeper than anyone had ever filled her before. Less than two weeks and she was head over heels.

  Her orgasm burst through her again, and she cried out. Mitch flexed against her, his gaze intense as he watched her. He gave a gruff cry and stilled, his hips jerking as he came. They lay in sated silence for a few moments, their heavy breaths the only sound between them.

  His forearms bulged as he braced himself against the mattress and then rolled off her. He immediately scooped her into his arms, bringing her body flush against his.

  She giggled, sinking into the spoon. Now this was nice.

  He buried his face in the back of her hair. “Mmmm.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Words were still beyond her. With this level of satisfaction pulsing through her, it might be a while until she could string words together.

  “Mrghhh.”

  “Mmrrrm.”

  Mitch kissed the top of her head. “That settles it then. Best sex ever.”

  Her eyes drifted shut, that perma-grin back out to play on her lips.

  15

  A few days later, Jules’s memories of her epic orgasms were one of the few things keeping her going.

  Party planning was down to the wire, and right now they were in the “corral all the moving parts and hope for the best” stage.

  And as of yesterday, Noelle was officially sick with a cold, which meant she couldn’t join the hotel daycare. Jules was able to get a nanny up to the penthouse to help watch her while working, but every little cry or whimper from the girl jerked her focus from any task at hand.

  Not only was she was getting poor sleep because of a sick baby and running behind with the planning, she was also nearly totally on her own since Mitch’s own schedule was jam-packed from eight a.m. to nine p.m. each day.

  By six p.m. on Thursday, she was craving another slow, intimate night with him so badly she could cry. But Noelle was as fussy as ever and only wanted to be held, so the romantic sex-a-thon would have to wait.

  “Oh, honey,” Jules tutted as she patted Noelle’s back after her latest bottle. Her little nose was stuffed up and she couldn’t breathe very well, which only frustrated her more. She sank back onto the couch, a sigh escaping her as her eyes fluttered shut.

  Maybe, if Noelle calmed enough, they could both snag a nap.

  That would be wondrous.

  Almost too wondrous to imagine.

  The front door opened, and Jules perked up. It had to be Mitch, which signaled sweet, sweet relief. She could hand over fussy Noelle, and either sleep or get work done. Probably sleep, if she was honest. Oh, how lovely that would be.

  “Anybody home?” Mitch walked into the living room a moment later, a big smile on his face. It dimmed slightly as he approached them. “You okay?”

  She groaned, dropping her head back on the couch. “So exhausted. It’s been a rough day.”

  Mitch frowned, reaching out to run his fingers over Noelle’s head. “She still sick?”

  “Not getting any better. And I need to sleep. At least for an hour. Are you ready to take her?”

  Mitch’s frown deepened. “I can’t. I just stopped back to change for my next meeting. I’ve got an investor arriving in five minutes.”

  Jules ground her teeth, unable to stop the annoyed sigh from bursting past her lips. “Seriously? You’ve been totally gone the past three days. I thought we were in this together.”

  “We are,” Mitch insisted. “But this stuff is non-negotiable. My hands are tied. I can’t bail on this meeting to play with the baby.”

  “To play with the—” she stopped herself before her acidic tone turned into even more acidic words. “Noelle is sick, and she needs to be cared for. Whatever. I’ll take care of it.”

  Mitch headed for his bedroom, his voice growing more distant as he walked away. “Call the nanny. I’m sure she can help out for a few hours.”

  “You think I haven’t tried that route?” Jules spat, feeling more frustrated than ever. She couldn’t get past what he’d said. Play with the baby. Like this was just a walk in the park, all fun and games. “There’s no nanny available tonight because they’re busy with all the other guests’ children.”

  But of course he couldn’t hear her, because she was muttering angrily to herself in the living room. When he reappeared in the living room a few moments later, wearing a Henley shirt and casual slacks, the sight of him softened her frustration for a moment.

  “This is a meeting?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Casual, though. Per the investor’s request.”

  She sighed. “Well, as I was saying, there’s no nanny available tonight. So make it quick. Because I might not make it until nine p.m.”

  He came over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then Noelle’s. “Promise.”

  The front door clicked shut a moment later, and she was left in irritable silence once more, her own frustrations and to-do list and sense of aloneness boiling over, ready to drown her.

  So this was mom life in the early months. Now she got it. She sighed, settling Noelle into a safe spot on the couch before getting up to pour herself a glass of wine. It was six thirty. This was allowed.

  Noelle fell into a fitful nap, which allowed Jules to open her laptop and stare distractedly at her screen while thinking about the interaction with Mitch.

  It had felt like they were working together so well as a team, but now? All this just reminded her that she’d been in some sort of blazing bright foster babymoon. Something tinted by the holidays and the great sex and a healthy, sleeping baby. Now she was pure sleep deprivation and deadlines with half the help and support she’d grown accustomed to.

  If Mitch couldn’t be counted on to help during a few stressful days during their few weeks as a makeshift family unit, then what could she count on from him in a relationship overall?

  And why was she even thinking that a relationship with him was a possibility?

  The whole thing made her crazy. Yes, she’d fallen head over heels for him. Even now, when she wanted to throttle him for leaving her with a sick baby for the second day in a row, she still wanted him. But what did he feel about her? And was he even getting sidetracked by the same thought of what might happen after the holidays?

  Because if Jules had her way? She’d be taking up permanent residence in this penthouse. She’d already imagined moving her things here, thinking how convenient it was that she hadn’t fully unpacked at her apartment, what an unwitting foresight that made life easier once she decided to make the move over here! And little Noelle would of course become theirs, and probably would take the Denton name. And if Jules was lucky, so would she. Since Mitch would most likely—probably definitely—ask her to marry him within a year.

  All these thoughts felt ridiculous and dangerously hopeful, yet she couldn’t avoid them. Dammit, he made her excited again.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a brash ringing. Something between an alarm clock and a tornado warning, ringing repeatedly from…somewhere. Jules leapt to her feet, trying to track down the source of the offending noise. Her first thought was the service elevator—maybe there was an issue with it and someone was stuck inside—but the noise was softer over that way. She wandered through the kitchen, following it until the sound rang the loudest.

  The mahogany buffet in the dining room seemed to be the culprit. She frowned, tugging open the small drawers in the piece of furniture until she spied the offender.

  Something suspiciously similar to a fitness tracker blared, and she picked up the thin black wristlet, turning it over in her hands. The accessory had startling volume for being so small, and no amount of pressing buttons made it shut up.

  Her chest tightened as she struggled to turn it off, but the alarm continued ringing.

  The failed attempts made a baby headache spring to life, and she swore under her breath. After enough frustrating attempts, she tos
sed the thing against the wall. As if this would help, or maybe spur it into shutting up on its own accord.

  But no. Reeeeep. Reeeeeep. Reeeeep. The end-of-times step tracker continued its death wail.

  Jules huffed with a sigh and headed for her phone. Now that she’d spent so much time hating the thing, it was all she could hear, even as she put distance between herself and the accessory. She tapped out a quick text to Mitch, but the waiting grew unbearable.

  So she called him. It rang seven times and then clicked over to voicemail.

  She called again. And it went to voicemail again.

  “Dammit.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose, her blood pressure pitching upward. Sleep deprivation and sick baby was one thing. Add a shrieking device on top of everything, and she was damn near meltdown mode.

  Noelle stirred on the couch, and then she let out a wail.

  “Oh, hell no!” Jules stomped her foot and looked between baby and device, unsure which to attend to first. Maybe she could break the thing with the meat tenderizer she’d found in the kitchen the other day. If it didn’t stop ringing, she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions.

  But Noelle needed comforting first. She scooped up the baby, trying to stop the crying. While she shushed Noelle and tried to get her calm, Jules drifted back toward her phone. She called Mitch again. No answer.

  But she couldn’t stay in here. Not with this ringing.

  So she headed for the hallway to check herself out in the mirror. She was presentable enough—at least for a quick trip to the bar where she knew Mitch was having his meeting.

  She could steal him for a few minutes to resolve this problem, and all would be well.

  She pasted a fake smile on her face as she slipped her flats on and went to the penthouse elevator, readying herself to enter the world below with a fussy baby in her arms.

  Yeah.

  Everything would be fine.

  As long as Mitch stopped the damn ringing.

  16

  Mitch gnawed at the inside of his lip as he waited for Sara to return.

  His meeting with the investor was casual at her request, but he hadn’t expected it to be this casual.

  Sara had shown up to the hotel bar in a form-fitting red dress and sky-high heels. After a quick hug and plenty of giggles, she’d suggested they start the meeting with shots. Like they were in college again, she’d laughed.

  And of course Mitch had gone along. Taking a shot didn’t sound like a horrible idea, especially after the day he’d had. With his dad breathing down his neck to get everything in order for the gala and secure the investments for the next level of Denton’s expansion, he had enough on his plate to warrant getting drunk early.

  But he felt like an asshole for leaving Jules and Noelle upstairs, and no amount of alcohol could prevent his thoughts from returning to his girls upstairs.

  “Okay. I’m back.” Sara sent him a toothy grin as she slid onto the bar stool at his side. Her floral perfume settled in a cloud around him, something he remembered from the last time they’d met like this. She was one of their primary investors, but more than that, she was an old family friend. The daughter of another wealthy family in the New York area, she and Mitch were on equal footing when it came to wealth and inheritances.

  She was also Mitch’s father’s number one pick as the ideal daughter-in-law.

  “What do you say to another shot?” She laughed, waving down the bartender. “I mean, we don’t have anywhere to be, right? And hell, if we get too drunk to go home, it’s not like you don’t have a thousand rooms at your disposal.” She winked, and Mitch could see through to the real meaning of her words. Sara was not quiet about the fact that she wanted Mitch. She probably would be thrilled if their parents set up an arranged marriage for them.

  And sure, Sara was gorgeous. She was the definition of fun-loving, single professional. With bursting cleavage and a sexy pout, she was nearly always fawning over him. Like she was just waiting for him to make his move.

  Hell, a month ago, he’d been considering what life might be like with Sara. She seemed like a safe enough choice. Looks and business and success all rolled into one. The spark wasn’t there, but he didn’t necessarily need it…probably.

  But now that Jules and Noelle were in his life? He didn’t want to consider Sara as anything more than the business acquaintance she was. And Sara didn’t know it, but her flirtations were only making the knot in his stomach worse.

  Over Sara’s shoulder Mitch could see part of the entrance to the bar which looked out over the western edge of the lobby. He kept glancing there, though he didn’t know why. Maybe planning his escape route at the earliest possible juncture. The bartender arrived with their shots, and Sara lifted hers, urging him to do the same.

  “Come on. Here’s to more successful ventures. Including ones we haven’t officially started yet.” Her grin glinted mischievous as she reached over and caressed the side of his face.

  He clinked his shot glass against hers, forcing a smile and resisting the urge to swat her hand away. As he tossed it back, he swore he caught a glimpse of Jules out of the corner of his eye. But that was impossible. She was upstairs with the baby, and he was just feeling guilty. Once he’d downed the amber liquid, he searched the bar again. Just to be sure.

  No Jules.

  He was imagining things. Probably because he was feeling guilty and eager to get back up there and help her.

  “So. There’s a lot riding on this deal. I think I know how we can come to an agreement.” Sara brushed up against him. “Some of my girlfriends and I wanted to go grab dinner before we go to a new club later. What do you say? You should come. We can keep talking business.” The air quotes she made around “talking business” made his stomach pitch to his feet.

  Going to dinner was one thing. Following it with a visit to a club? He didn’t even want to imagine Jules’s disappointment in that choice. And furthermore, he didn’t want to entertain even the thought of an evening like that.

  No, he needed to wrap things up here and now, before Jules declared him a lost cause and totally useless foster dad.

  “I need to get back upstairs,” Mitch said.

  “Oh, come on! It’ll be so fun! When’s the last time you’ve had a good night out? Seriously.”

  A sigh escaped him. His last great night out was the last time he and Jules went out. But that wasn’t the sort of night that Sara was talking about.

  “I already know the answer: too long,” Sara went on. “Come on, you need this. And it’s the holidays! When are you going to take a vacation if not this time of year?”

  Mitch fished his phone out of his pocket, intent on bouncing the idea off Jules. As he swiped the screen on, he realized he’d missed four calls and several texts from her. He stopped breathing for a moment, fearful he’d missed something urgent, since his phone had been on Do Not Disturb.

  Jules had sent three texts: “Hey are you busy I really need you to come up here”; “Are you getting any of my texts or calls?”; and then, “Never mind. I don’t need your help.”

  “Hang on,” Mitch said, sliding off his stool. “I need to return this call real quick.” He stepped toward the front of the bar as he called Jules, counting the seconds until she picked up. It clicked over to voicemail, but a text from her arrived almost simultaneously.

  “Going to bed. Everything’s fine.”

  That was a relief, at least. As he returned to his post at the bar, Sara was still eager for an answer.

  “So what do you say?” Her eyebrow arched. “Do we close this deal or not?”

  His father’s demands cycled through him as he looked down at her hopeful eyes. She’d said it herself—this was the route to close this deal. A lot was riding on this. Including his potential next role as the head of Denton Hotels.

  “I’ll go to dinner,” Mitch finally conceded, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

  Going to dinner didn’t equate to going to a club.

  He
could still seal the deal and get home at a decent hour. And wasn’t that the definition of the work-life balance?

  Still, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sensation as he accompanied Sara out of the bar. Something was off. He just couldn’t tell what.

  17

  Jules stood staring down at Noelle, finally sleeping peacefully in her crib, for what felt like an hour. Even though she’d buried the alarm under five pillows in Mitch’s bedroom—an appropriate present for him to come home to—she could still hear the shrill ring in her memory.

  Damn that thing. But maybe she should be grateful for it.

  Because that annoying little device had jostled her out of this crazy reverie in which she and Mitch were heading for something big.

  Jules heaved a sigh, finally turning from Noelle and heading for the living room. Even though she had plenty of work to do and plenty of sleep to catch up on, she would be doing neither of those things.

  No, right now, she needed to call her mom.

  The phone was ringing before she even sank into the couch. Her mom picked up on the third ring.

  “Honey!” she exclaimed. The familiar rasp of her voice made Jules smile. However difficult her childhood had been with her mostly absent mother, she was the only mom she had. And sometimes, Jules needed her.

  “Hi, Mom.” She sighed, wondering where to begin. “You got a minute?”

  “Of course I do. I was just sitting down to watch some Criminal Minds.”

  Usually they’d watch that together whenever Jules visited. Even though her mother had sought the ultra-rich, ultra-luxe lifestyle via a revolving door of rich boyfriends, none of that wealth had ever transferred over into her daily life or Jules’s upbringing. In fact, now that her mother had finally given up on the rich boyfriend life goals, her life was plainer than ever.

  “I’ve sort of…found myself in a situation,” Jules began. “Something that might come as a bit of a shock.” She took a deep breath and spilled the executive summary of the story. The more she spoke, the more absurd everything sounded. Playing house with a billionaire while they watched over a child that wasn’t even theirs? Who was she kidding?