Have Baby, Need Billionaire(20)

He sprang to his feet as if the thought of sitting still another moment   was going to kill him. Turning his back on his friend, he stared out  the  wide window at the view of San Francisco that Tula had admired so  the  first day he met her.

But instead of the high-rises and the glittering bay beyond the city, he saw her.

Her eyes. Her smile. That damn dimple in her cheek. He heard her sigh,   felt the ripples of satisfaction rolling through her body as they took   each other.

It had been one night since he had been with her and he wanted her again   so badly, it was gnawing at him. Had she planned that, too? Had she   deliberately set out to seduce him just so she could crush him later and   sit with her father to enjoy the show?

His guts tightened and a cold, hard edge wrapped itself around his   heart. The nebulous plan still forming in his mind was looking better   and better by the moment.

"If you screw this up, you could be risking your son," Mick reminded him unnecessarily.

"No," Simon said, glancing back over his shoulder at his friend. "Don't   you get it? A Hawthorne is in charge of whether or not I'm fit to care   for my son. How could I possibly make that any worse?"

"Let me count the ways," Mick muttered darkly.

"You'll see," Simon told him, warming to his plan even as it took final   shape in his mind. "I'm going to seduce Tula-" again, he added silently   "-until she can't think straight. By the time I'm finished, she'll   support me getting custody of Nathan. And when I'm sure of that, I'll go   to her father and tell him that I've been sleeping with his daughter.   If that doesn't give the old man a stroke, nothing will."

"What'll it do to her?" Mick asked quietly.

For one brief second, Simon considered that. Considered how it would be   when she found out that she'd been used by him. But he let that thought   go as soon as he remembered that she was a Hawthorne and that her  family  was more than accustomed to using and being used.

"Doesn't matter," he ground out.

"Whatever you say." Mick stood up and shook his head. "I'm heading home now, but before I go, one more piece of advice."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Mick shrugged. "Whoever likes unsolicited advice?"

"Good point. Okay, let's have it."

"Don't do it."

"Do what?"

"Whatever it is you're planning, Simon." Mick locked his gaze with his friend's and said in all seriousness, "Just let this go."

Simon shook his head. "Hawthorne cheated me."

"His daughter didn't."

"She lied to me. About who she was. Maybe about why she's in my damn house."                       
       
           



       

"You don't know that. You could just ask her."

Sending a warning glare at his friend, Simon said, "You don't understand."

"You're right," Mick told him, turning for the door. "I don't. For the   last week or so, you've been almost … happy. I'd hate to see you screw   that up for yourself, Simon."

He didn't say anything as Mick left. Hell, what was there to say? There   was an opportunity here. A chance to get back at Jacob Hawthorne while   at the same time indulging himself in a woman he wanted more than he  was  comfortable admitting.

An image of Tula filled his mind and his body went hard and heavy almost   instantly. Remembering how responsive she was in bed had him wanting   her so desperately, he'd have done anything to have her that minute.   Even that damned fight they'd had hadn't cooled him off any. Instead, it   had stoked the fires already inside him. He'd never enjoyed a fight   more.

Didn't mean anything though, he told himself. Yes, he'd admitted to   liking her. But that was before he knew who she really was. Now he   didn't know if he could believe the person she'd shown herself to be.   Maybe it was all an act. Maybe everything she had done since arriving at   his house had all been part of an elaborate show.

If it was, he would have the last laugh. If it wasn't … he shook his head.   He wouldn't consider that. Tula Hawthorne was a grown woman. She could   make her own decisions. And if she decided to join him in his bed-and   she would, again-that would be her choice.

She'd be fine.

He'd have his revenge.

And his son.



"He was a complete jerk," Tula said into her cell phone, then caught the   baby watching her warily. She didn't care what some people thought   about children and their awareness to the world around them. She knew   that Nathan was sensitive to tone and her moods, so she instantly forced   a smile, despite the sheen of ice that felt as though it was coating   her insides.

"Honey," Anna's sympathetic voice came over the phone. "You're the one   who always reminded me that most men are jerks at one point or another."

"Yes, but at that point?" Tula said in a hiss, still smiling for   Nathan's sake. "Seriously, Anna the glow hadn't even begun to fade and   he turned on me like a rabid dog."

"Well, I hope you gave it right back to him."

"I did," she said, remembering their fight last night. It had completely   colored everything that went before it and that was saying something.

Sex with Simon had been even more amazing than she had imagined it could   be. But to have it all ruined because Simon had donned his  metaphorical  suit right after was just infuriating.

"Nothing I said got through to him though, so it hardly matters that I   fought back," she mused, plucking a windblown brown leaf from the   blanket and tossing it into the air. "He was so cold. So … "

"Believe me I know," Anna assured her. "Remember how awful Sam was in the beginning?"

"That's different."

"Really, how?"

Tula laughed halfheartedly. "Because this is about me."

"Ah, well sure. Now I see."

Another laugh shot from Tula's throat helplessly. "Fine, fine. You   suffered, all women suffer. But my suffering is happening now."

"Okay, there you've got me."

"Thanks. So. Advice?"

"Plenty, but advice isn't what you need, Tula. You already know how to handle this."

"Really, how's that?"

"Get Simon ready for Nathan and then come home. Where you belong."

Where she belonged.

For so many years, the tiny house in Crystal Bay had been just that.   Tula's haven. The one spot in the world where she felt as if she'd   carved out a place for herself. But now, thinking about going back to   her old life of work and friends sounded somehow … empty.

Her gaze turned on the baby laying on a blanket spread over the grass of   Simon's backyard. She didn't know if she could go back home. Her small   house would now be crowded with memories of a baby that had brightened   it so briefly. She would hear Nathan's cries in the night, find his  toys  tucked under the couch. She would wonder, always, how he was, what  he  was doing.

Just as she would wonder about Simon.

The bastard.

How dare he make her care for him and then become just … a man? How could   he have experienced what they had shared and then turn his back on it   all so mechanically? How could he simply flip a mental switch and shut   off his emotions as easily as turning off a lightbulb?                       
       
           



       

Or maybe she was reading too much into him. Giving him too much credit.   Maybe he didn't have any emotions. Maybe that suit that so defined him   had stunted any natural human feelings. Hadn't she warned herself the   very first day she had met him that he was too much like her father? Too   caught up in the world of corporate finances for her to be interested   in him?

She should have listened to herself.

Then she remembered the look on his face as he had stared down at   Nathan, knowing the baby was his son. His features had been easy enough   to read. The man was capable of love. He simply wasn't interested in  it.

At least, not with her.

"Yoo-hoo?"

"Huh? What?" Tula shook her head and said, "Sorry, sorry. Wasn't listening."

"Yeah, I got that," Anna said wryly. "You're not ready to come home yet, are you?"

"I can't. The baby and-"

"No." Anna's voice was soft and filled with understanding sympathy. "I   mean, you're not ready to walk away from Simon yet, are you?"

Tula's shoulders slumped in resignation, though her friend couldn't see   it. "No, guess I'm not. That makes me some kind of grand idiot, doesn't   it?" Then, without waiting for her friend's response, she answered her   own question. "Of course it does. Why would I think I could have   feelings for a man so much like my father? Why didn't I stop myself?"