Billionaire Baby Daddy

But instead of the rage that I was expecting, she just gave me a frosty look. “Perhaps if you hadn't waited until the last minute before changing everything to do with this meeting, I could have tailored it to better suit your needs,” she said. But that was the end of the cool confidence from her. In the next second, she was clapping a hand over her mouth and looking scared. “Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all, and when I get nervous, I have a tendency to speak without thinking.”

I smiled at her. “Why don't you make it up to me?” I asked, giving her an obvious once-over that I'm sure did nothing to hide my intentions. “Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. There's this beautiful place that just opened on the top floor of the Columbia Tower. I can call in a favor or two and get us a table, even on short notice like this.” The truth was, I already had a reservation, since the last time I hadn't had a date on a Friday night must have been at least five years ago. But she didn't need to know that.

Her brow furrowed, and I thought for a moment that she was going to say no. But of course, she didn't. Instead, her protest was much more practical.

“Mr. Goldwright, you do realize I'm just an insurance analyst? If you're looking for some way to sweeten the deal for Orinoco, I'm not the person who you would need to wine and dine. I have no say in any of that. I'm just here to relay the facts to you.”

I laughed. “Oh, Lexi,” I purred, shaking my head. “Trust me when I say my thoughts are on anything other than business. From what I've seen, you're very beautiful and very intelligent. I like that in a woman. I admire that in a woman. I'm asking you to dinner purely for my own entertainment. And yours, I hope.”

She looked uncertain, and I wondered just how much of a prude she was. It had been a while since I’d had any woman prove to be a challenge. Usually, when they heard about my millions and saw my good looks, they were practically throwing themselves at my feet.

Lexi straightened a little, looking over my shoulder, and I could see that blush back on her cheeks. I wondered what it would take to cause it to darken. I wondered if she would blush when I laid her down in bed and stripped her bare.

“All right,” she finally agreed. “You can take me to dinner. But you're paying, Mr. Billionaire.”

“That's only fair,” I agreed, feeling a quick flash of disappointment at the fact that she had given in so easily. Maybe she was just the same as all the other women. I'd still take her to dinner, of course, because it would be rude to rescind the offer now. Anyway, I was still interested in her body, even if she proved to be dull in other respects. It was a shame, though. I really did want a challenge.

I suppressed a sigh and turned back to the papers in front of us, hurrying through her explanations so I could get her out of my office and forget about how badly I needed something truly interesting in my life again.

Chapter Three

Lexi

I checked my reflection one last time and turned towards Misty, putting my hands on my hips. “You're sure you don't think it's too much?” I asked worriedly.

Misty snorted. “If anything, I think it's not enough,” she said. “You said he was taking you to that new place in Columbia Tower, didn't you? You realize that restaurant only seats about ten tables at a time? You have to know someone to get in there. And you have to have money to know someone. Plus, it's French. You're never going to look overdressed at a fancy French restaurant. That's the way I see it.”

I turned back towards the mirror. “Now you've got me worried that I'm underdressed,” I muttered.

“You look beautiful,” Misty said, catching my arms and pulling me back around, critically eyeing my simple black dress and turquoise jewelry. “God, I'd kill to have curves like yours!”

“You've got that cute petiteness to you, though,” I protested.

“And you've got boobs, a narrow waist, and a good ass,” Misty complained. “And a brain.”

I laughed. “You've got a brain,” I said.

“Sure, but nothing like yours, Ms. Statistician,” Misty said, rolling her eyes. A horn honked out front, and Misty turned me around, swatting my ass and sending me on my way. “I'll have my phone on,” she promised, before I could even ask. “Same as always. If anything goes bad, just shoot me a text, and I'll call with news of some disaster.”

I grinned at her. “You're the best,” I told her.

“Of course, I am,” Misty said, tossing her hair. “I'm your best friend. Now get going. And just try to have a little fun tonight, would you? You haven't been on a date in ages.”

I shook my head but didn't reply to that one.

Out on the curb, Andrew was waiting in a flashy red sports car, exactly what I might have expected for him to be driving. I slid into the passenger's seat, smiling over at him. “Hey.”

He smiled charmingly back at me. “You look gorgeous,” he told me.

I blushed and ducked my head. “Thanks. You look good, too.”

The suit was pretty much the same as the one he'd been wearing at work the previous day, although maybe a slightly darker shade of blue. He probably had two dozen suits all in similar shades, all perfectly tailored to fit him. I snorted as I got a mental image of what his closet would look like.

“What?” he asked, glancing over at me.

“You fit all the stereotypes, don't you?” I asked. “A hot, young billionaire with a flashy sports car and way too many tailored suits. You've probably got a penthouse apartment in one of the hottest downtown buildings, all the latest electronics, a cleaning lady-slash-cook for the nights when you actually bother to stay home, and, I don't know, a vacation house down in Hawaii.”

Andrew laughed. “Actually, I live in an actual house, not just an apartment. It's got really great views of the lake. And I don't have the vacation house either, although my dad is currently living in the Bahamas, so I guess that's close enough. And you forgot one thing: access to the hottest clubs in the city.”