Baby Fever Virgin: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Read online

  “Hello.” He speaks softly, eyes narrowed, straightening his tie with one hand, while the other wipes blood from his lip. “Working late, are we?”

  I've only seen his portrait before. Never the man in the flesh, until now. It's Francis Shaw, larger than life, and just as merciless. He must've stepped out to the bathroom across the hall to clean up the cut his son gave him.

  “Um, actually, I came to find my mom. Family emergency.” I'm frozen. Nervous as hell doesn't begin to describe the adrenaline overload making me a statue.

  “Ericka's daughter, of course.” He steps past me, continuing down the hall, stopping next to a room adjacent to the office where I heard the arguing. Luke wasn't kidding about the drunken part – he leaves a distinct plume of fine bourbon behind him. “I know just where to find her. Wait right there, please.”

  He's eerily calm for a man who's just been in a fist fight with his youngest son.

  Forget it. I'm out. I can't handle more weirdness. I'm running down the hall before I ever catch a glimpse of mom.

  Blood racing, heart pounding, vision blurring. I hit a wall when I crash through the door leading outside. A hand reaches out, catches my wrist, and latches on like a hawk picking up a mouse.

  I'm screaming before I open my eyes.

  “You again?” Luke doesn't even look surprised. He's bored. “What's so interesting that you've come back here to spy on my sorry ass?”

  “I'm trying to get home. I didn't hear anything, I swear!” I'm a horrible liar.

  Recovering my senses, I decide to be straight, mustering up the strength to look him in the eye. Honesty hasn't done much for me in the past, but here's hoping it will. “I came looking for my mom. I thought she'd be somewhere on this side of the house, where your dad lives. I didn't mean to hear you two arguing.”

  He lets my wrist drop from his grip, turning his back to me. “Better that than what you heard last time. Privacy is a fucking illusion around here, anyway.”

  He's so...defeated. It makes me feel even worse.

  “Listen, Lucus –“

  “Luke. Nobody except my old man needs to be so formal,” he tells me.

  “Fine, Luke. I really don't mean to keep dropping in on you like this. Honest accident. Both times. If I didn't have to come here to work, or chase down my mom, you'd never see me. I'm more than happy to stay out of your way.”

  “Bullshit.” He turns around, the smirk he wears in place of a smile returning. “Sorry, little girl. You're too young for me, and not really my type.”

  My jaw drops. “What?!”

  “You heard me,” he says coolly, beginning to walk a slow circle around me. “You're not the first girl to crush all over this, magnificent human specimen that I am. I don't have time for games and I don't fuck virgins, especially when they're offering up a sympathy lay. I can pull any pussy I want.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  He stops in front of me and stares. It's a drawn out, uncomfortable, eye-fucking gaze. I hate him for making me the one who's questioning my sanity here, wondering if I'm dealing with a man or a demon who looks like an angel. But I hate him most for putting this heat in my blood, igniting a burn between my thighs I shouldn't have.

  “Boo!” He throws his hands in front of my face, nearly knocking me over backward.

  “Ass!” I stumble against the waist high stone wall behind me. “I'm only going to say it one more time – I'm not interested in you that way. I'm practically your employee. It wouldn't be right for all kinds of reasons.”

  He eyeballs me slow and hard, shaking his head like my reasoning wouldn't stop anything. “It's not fair.”

  “What? Can we please stop being so cryptic?” I want to be done so I can walk back across the overgrown path through the garden and go home.

  “You know a lot of my secrets for an employee with a schoolgirl crush on me. Can't say I like it.” He comes toward me again, and this time he doesn't stop until his arms are around my waist. I almost jump again, and for the first time, I see a thin smile on his face. “Your family's here until somebody quits or my father gets sick of you. Plenty of time for me to even the score. You know too much about me, Robbi Plomb. I'm evening the score. Before the summer's out, I'll know a whole lot more about you.”

  He's trying not to laugh when I finally wriggle out of his grasp. I check behind me several times on my way out, running down the path through the gardens.

  No footsteps behind me. Zero pursuit. He's decided not to come after me tonight.

  Later, I learn a man doesn't need to run to start the chase. I didn't know it at the time, but it had already begun.

  School is almost over. It's my eighteenth birthday, and becoming an adult feels...underwhelming.

  I'm just weeks away from graduation, a couple acceptance letters from a local community college in my hand. They're not glamorous, but at least I'll knock out a few cheap requirements over the next year before I go somewhere better for acting or theater.

  I haven't decided which direction yet. I love to sing, and I live for nights like these. I owned the musical stage and walked away, better and more tired for it. I'm still wearing my royal purple dress, fresh from playing young Queen Bearington, ruler of Sealesland, a fabulously wealthy European kingdom.

  I'm sitting behind our family's bungalow with my friends, a couple dozen kids total in my class. I've got a bowl with German chocolate cake and ice cream to celebrate, just like the rest of the girls. My mother baked it before she took off for another round of overtime, handing me a card stuffed with an embarrassing amount of money for snacks and 'whatever,' in her words.

  The boys among us break into a couple six packs one of their older brothers snuck from the liquor store. I haven't seen my friend, Jenny, for about an hour. I wonder if she's finally decided to get a little face time in the weeds with her longtime crush.

  “Nothing except cake for the birthday gal? Typical, and disappointing.” I stiffen when I hear his voice.

  I look up, and there's Jenny again, standing next to someone who doesn't belong here. Luke has his arm slung over her shoulder, his hand perched dangerously close to one breast. She gives him a knowing look, melting into him.

  Please, somebody tell me they didn't fuck.

  Tell me he isn't here to ruin my party.

  “You told me last week you were going to have fun on your birthday. Do you even know how, Robbi?” Luke doesn't let up. Jenny nuzzles into him and laughs, too tipsy not to be drunk on something. I don't know if it's beer or sex.

  “I am having fun, jackass,” I snap, stabbing my fork into the last morsel of cake. “It's called unwinding. You should try it sometime.”

  “Nah. Think I've done plenty of that tonight with my charity case. It's not every day I suck face with a chick who's aiming out of her league.” He looks at Jenny. It takes her smiling face a few seconds to register the insult, and flatten like the melted vanilla ice cream under my fork.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey, what? I'm talking to Robbi now.” He pushes her away, heading for me. I swear he can smell the jealousy throbbing in my veins, and he likes it.

  “Walk with me, little bird,” he says. I don't move. “Aw, come on. I came all the way out here to have a heart-to-heart for your eighteenth birthday. Couldn't let you step into womanhood and leave school without some brotherly wisdom.”

  “You're not my brother, Luke. You're a fucking joke.”

  He blinks, both of us surprised because I've slipped an F-bomb. It doesn't knock him off his game, whatever one he's playing, for more than a second. “Duh, princess. You don't have one, which is why you need my advice more than you think. Let's go, before I drag you inside to wash that mouth out with soap.”

  There's no resisting his strong hand under my shoulder. I set my bowl down reluctantly and walk with him, onto the path. There's a small pond with several soft blue lights glowing around it. My friends are down there in all kinds of compromising positions, using their phones for light in
the darkness. Maybe a few are taking naughty pics they'll regret.

  There's no moon tonight. Even fewer stars. A smoky early summer haze covers everything, fed by the farms beyond Shaw property lines burning brush.

  “Why aren't you out there having some real fun with your friends?” He gestures to the mini-orgy going on by the pond, just as the nearest couple moans. “No use going to college with your cherry intact. Better to get it punched now, and grow up. Then you won't have to worry about the emotions getting in the way when you're locked down in your dorm, trying to study.”

  “I'm staying here, Mr. Authority. Taking a few community classes over the next year. I won't have a dorm.”

  “Typical,” he says again, shaking his head, using what's becoming his favorite word with me. “I guess you won't have a boyfriend to fuck you good and proper either?”

  “None of your business!” I stop in mid-step, pushing against his chest when he leans in closer. I can't stop seeing him down here by the lake with my friend, her traitor legs wrapped around him, moaning while this alpha-hole runs his tongue down her neck. “Get on something else, or this conversation is over. I don't need a sex therapist who writes bad music. Why the hell aren't you in college, anyway?”

  The reference to our first meeting makes his eyes smolder like blue gas flames in the darkness. “I did the university thing downtown for about a year and a half. Business school, just like dad wanted. Didn't work out. I'm too restless to sit in a lecture hall listening to guys in shoulder patches blow smoke up everyone's asses.”

  “Hm, I never would've guessed. Pretty typical, Lucus.” It's my turn now.

  If he's bothered he doesn't show it. Instead, in one of his swift movements, he grabs me around the waist, pulls me close, and looks me dead in the eye. “No more games, Robbi. If you want to know the truth, I brought you out here to say congratulations. You've got a real chance to get away from the shit that goes on here. Take it, run, and live like there's no tomorrow.”

  He's never sounded so serious since the night we first met. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Acting, right? Or is it theater?”

  “Either. Both, maybe. I love the stage,” I say, smoothing my hands against my dress. It helps take my mind off the huge shoulders shadowing me, the gorgeous eyes looking so protective tonight, when they're usually my biggest dread.

  “It's hell getting anywhere in those fields, but try, damn it. One of these days I'm going to gas up my plane and fly as close as I can get to Hollywood. Somebody here has to make it. Whoever gets there first, we'll save the other person a seat. Promise me, Robbi.”

  Luke acting with me in the distant future? There's a terrifying thought.

  Still, he's being nice for once. I don't have the heart to do anything except play along, staring into his eyes while I smile.

  “Deal. We'll have plenty of time to talk about it since I'll be here another year, at least.”

  “Whenever I come home for the holidays and breaks, you mean.”

  “Home?”

  He nods. “I'm leaving next week. Can't turn twenty-two and still be rotting away here while my older brothers leave me in the dust. I'm doing the commercial pilot thing. Landed a pilot job with a cargo company I'll try for a few months, while I get a feel for the industry. I'll wind up an actor or an airline executive someday, or I'll die.”

  “If you make it, so will I,” I say.

  He reaches for my face. The bastard makes me forget about Jenny in record time when he's touching me. His fingers are thick against my cheek, strong as the rest of him, the tips calloused from his guitar.

  “Obviously. I've got plenty on you in experience, little bird. Like that sex thing we were talking about.”

  Not again. Just when I was starting to enjoy the asshole's touch.

  My eyelids pop open. “None of your business,” I tell him, ignoring my body going rebel.

  “What's holding you back? Don't tell me your parents don't let you date. Can't believe you get the shy schoolgirl act from your ma.”

  I'm not sure what he means. Shaking my head, I stand still while he tucks my hair behind my ear, watching a heavy, suppressed growl move down his throat when he swallows.

  “Like I could date here. I'm sure you've been inside these bungalows for the servants before?”

  “Reed always was a minimalist. You've got his old place. He took off to the city to be my brother Hayden's valet. Sorry you've got the shitty one.”

  “Yeah, then you get what I'm talking about. It's too small to bring a boy home, much less do anything else.”

  “Anything? How about some details, Robbi? They're important in college, or so they say.” Luke runs his fingers through my hair again, finesse in his touch.

  Like he doesn't know what I mean. He's done this to so many girls, he has to know my panties are soaked by now. I'm too ashamed to admit it, refusing to let my guard all the way down for this freak, equal parts unpredictable and irresistible.

  “Can't just be the house that's got you clinging to your panties like a stripper maxing out her tease for tips. Your parents are gone half the time. I've seen the hours they keep. Fucking awful.”

  “How did you know?” I press my cheek into his hand. Not thrilled where this conversation is going, but enjoying the moment too much to stop.

  “I take long walks. I notice things. Half the time it's just your rusty little Toyota in the driveway. Your mom spends too much time at the house, and your old man, who the fuck knows.”

  “He's drinking, I'm afraid. Comes home real late with his computer and goes straight to bed. Sometimes, he passes out on the sofa watching late night junk. I have to cover him with a blanket. It wasn't like this until we moved here.” I catch myself, looking away from him. “Sorry. That's family stuff, not your problem.”

  “I'm sorry. My old man does the same crap, ever since I was old enough to pay attention. He's always got some new bimbo in his bed. Probably goes through two or three a week when he stays downtown, before he settles on a regular fuck for a few months. They haven't lasted longer than that since mom.”

  “I have both my parents. I'm lucky. Can't imagine what it's like growing up without a mother.” I'm flirting with fire, oozing sympathy at this tall, dark beast, poking tenderly at his obvious sore spot.

  “Quit changing the subject.” He taps my face with his fingertips, reminding me there are some lines better not crossed. “This isn't therapy hour. We're talking about what it's going to take to get you laid.”

  “Right, Dr. Jekyll.” I smile, goosebumps peppering my skin. “I think we agreed I'd better wait until I move out. It'll be easier then. Plus I'll find better quality men than any around here. We're way out in the boonies, and the boys in my class aren't really my type.”

  “God – yes!” A soft voice rips through the night, louder than before, reaching us from the weeds several yards away.

  It doesn't help that most of the guys in my small class are taken. Or busy with girls who are more than happy to be their next piece of rotating meat. I'm not interested.

  Luke's smirk grows wider, more like a smile crisp with lemon. “How do you know your type if you've never had one?” His blue gaze intensifies, so hard I can't look away.

  “A girl knows,” I tell him. Vague, but true, one more lie hiding my inexperience. “Not sure why my status is so important to you anyway. It's not like you're coming to college with me, standing over my shoulder, and handpicking suitors to bring me bouquets. You can't stop me from making mistakes, Luke. Everybody deserves a chance to stumble, don't they?”

  His arm goes around my waist. My eyes flutter shut. All the frustration pours out of me when his fingers graze my side, firm and wanting, reminding me he'll do whatever he pleases. “Robin?”

  I open my eyes, surprised he isn't using my nickname. “What?”

  “Shut up.” It's not his words, but his kiss that silences me.

  Except calling the explosion tearing through my nerves silence is wrong.
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br />   It's fire, it's ice, it's rain emptied on the soil after a savage drought lasting years. It's everything my body wants, and everything my brain keeps screaming no to.

  It's quintessentially him, Lucus Shaw, mysterious and ever calm. In control. Focused on taking me over.

  His lips come at me softly at first, and his tongue does the rest. It flicks out once, parting my lips, sliding into my virgin mouth when it opens for him. He tastes me good and deep, putting his hunger into me.

  Just before he breaks away, I moan, and heat rushes to my cheeks. I only realize after the fact I'd started grinding on his knee, poised between my thighs.

  “Jesus,” I whimper, as soon as he pulls away. “I thought I was too young for you?”

  “Happy fucking birthday, little bird,” he whispers, tipping his forehead into mine. He holds it there, listening to me breathe, lust and want and confusion boiling in my veins.

  “What's next, Luke? I don't know what to do.”

  “Go home. Get your friends some water and a shower when they stumble in with their hangovers. I'll see you when I'm home from my first flight. Got at least one reason to come back here instead of staying in a hotel.”

  He's gone. No hesitation. I can't fathom how he pulls himself away so easily, like it's nothing more than shaking hands.

  He's halfway down the path, heading uphill, when he turns back and looks at me in the darkness. I can't see his face, but I know he's smiling.

  More than a smirk this time.

  He's proud. I'm left happy, breathless, and horny as hell. I kind of want to run after him and punch him in the back of the head, or at least taste his wild lips again.

  I don't know what this makes us, if it makes us anything. But it's obvious I won't be leaving the Shaw grounds without experiencing Luke again.

  Little bird. That's what he likes to call me, ever since we started having regular encounters in the halls while I'm working, with no time or privacy for anything more than a quick glance and a few words, until tonight.

  If only I knew what he really meant with the nickname. Does he want to cage me, or help me fly?