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The Millionaire Affair(7)

By:Jessica Lemmon


Landon stopped short in the hall and, lost in her thoughts, Kimber  nearly plowed into him. His hands landed on her shoulders and she halted  inches from his toes, narrowly avoiding scuffing shoes that had cost as  much as her entire outfit. Jewelry included.

His lips pursed and he dropped his hands, leaving the imprint of his  heated palms on her bare skin and her thoughts tangled in a knot of  attraction and longing.

"My room is there"-he pointed to the end of this corridor-"and Lyon's is right here." He gestured to the door before them.

She fervently ignored the part of her brain squealing, Landon's bedroom!  and focused on the panel in front of her instead. No sound came from  behind Lyon's door.

"Is he always this quiet?" she asked.

Landon let out a loose laugh before tucking it behind his schooled  expression once again. A rush of heat coiled in her belly. Oh yes. She'd  have to see about getting him to laugh some more while she was here.

"He's never this quiet. He had trouble falling asleep last night and I  didn't want to wake him." He slid his sleeve forward and studied a  shiny, large-faced watch. "But," he said with a sigh, "looks like I'll  have to wake him after all. My apologies if he's grouchy today."

He popped open the door to reveal a room the same size as hers,  decorated with neutral bedding and curtains. Lyon's dark mass of curls  laid on top of a red and blue pillowcase, and a comforter with the  likeness of Superman on it was tucked under his round, mocha-colored  cheeks. He opened a pair of dark eyes rimmed with impossibly long lashes  when Landon pulled a cord and opened the blinds.

"Kimber is here to meet you, buddy." Landon's official tone had been  replaced with a soft, deep tenor. Meant to soothe. She had no idea if it  was soothing Lyon or not, but it was working on her. She was already  feeling swoony.         

     



 

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a palm over his nephew's small  shoulder. The scene tugged at her heart, surprising her. She'd never  considered herself to be particularly enamored with kids.

"Kim?" Lyon asked, his voice groggy.

"Kimber," Landon corrected. "Do you want to meet her?"

The boy yawned and blinked at her like a sleepy puppy. "Yeah." He slid  out of the bed and she bit back a smile at his Superman pajamas,  complete with a red "S" emblazoned over his chest. He rubbed his eyes  and inspected her, yawning again.

All of a sudden, Lyon's eyes lost their haze. His limbs struck out to  grab the nearest toy on the floor and, with a shout, he shot over to her  like a bolt of lightning. The blur came to a stop at her feet, sword  drawn, and she was nearly downed by his cuteness. From his mussed curls  to his wide eyes, to the look of sheer determination drawn across his  chubby face, Lyon Downey was a-freaking-dorable.

"Hi," she said on an exhale of laughter.

His expression grew severe, and he thrust the weapon and growled, "You gonna make me breakfast?"

"Lionel," Landon said with enough authority that Lyon dropped his elbows  slightly. "That's not how we greet a guest. Especially a lady."

Lyon lowered the sword and squinted up at her. Kimber wasn't sure if he  was wondering what a lady was, or wondering if she qualified. She gave  him her best demure eye-blink in order to allow Landon to dispense a  valuable life lesson.

"Especially one this pretty." Landon had spoken so low, she thought for a  moment she'd imagined the compliment. Her heart fluttered. Seriously.  Fluttered. Once again she was sixteen, peeking out of Angel's bedroom  window and watching Landon do push-ups on the dock outside their rented  lake house. She'd longed for him so much back then. Even when he wore a  sweat-soaked white T-shirt and navy gym shorts. She glanced at him but,  like back then, he didn't notice her now, either. She still longed for  him. That would make this, the choice to come here and stay the week,  her latest entry in a diary of bad decisions.

"What am I s'posed to do?" Lyon asked his uncle, sounding inconvenienced that he couldn't charge her, then demand sustenance.

"First," Landon said, taking the toy from Lyon's grip and tossing it onto the bed. "You don't challenge her to battle."

She bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

"You say hello. Introduce yourself." Landon faced Kimber to demonstrate,  offering his palm, not in handshake mode, but like he might kiss her  hand. She slid her palm into his warmer one and he wrapped his fingers  around hers gently, but with enough strength that her every body part  recognized him as a man. "Landon Downey," he said, his voice like velvet  and as warm as the sunshine streaming in from the window behind him. He  tipped his chin, and a shadow dipped into a small cleft there. Had she  never noticed it until now? Or, like his eyes, had she simply forgotten  the detail over the years?

"Kimber Reynolds," she said on a sigh. He lifted her hand and her breath caught expectantly.

But rather than his firm lips grazing her knuckles, instead he turned  her hand to the side and gave her arm two short, professional pumps. The  warmth in her palm receded the instant he pulled his hand away. "Nice  to meet you."

Before she had a chance to realign her frittering hormones, Lyon clasped  on to her and gave her arm a vigorous shake. "I'm Lyon Downey."

She stiffened her muscles and managed to regain control of her arm. Barely. "Nice to meet you, Lyon."

"Now will you make me breakfast?"

Kimber spent the next half hour getting acquainted with Lyon, which  basically involved him showing her every toy he had, which was a lot of  toys. She wondered if Landon bought them especially for this visit, or  if he kept them here for whenever Lyon came over. After Lyon had tired  of show-and-tell, and Landon was satisfied that Kimber would not cook up  his nephew and have him for dinner, Landon stood from the bed, pulled  his phone from a pocket, and motioned for her to follow him out.

She smoothed her dress as she stood from the pile of superhero figures Lyon had dragged from the closet.

Landon didn't look up from his phone. "You're good, then?"

Lyon threw a toy in the air and nearly put his own eye out. She forced a steady smile. "Yep. We're good."

"Great. Lyon, I'll see you after dinner, okay? Be good for Kimber."

"Okay," he answered in a sweet little-boy voice that warmed her heart. Goodness. The kid had more personalities than Dr. Jekyll.         

     



 

"Walk with me," Landon murmured to her as he strode by, still fervently  avoiding her eyes. She followed him into a den or office of some sort  where he gathered his briefcase, head down. "You know about Lyon's  mother?"

She nodded, then answered aloud since he still wasn't looking at her.  "Yes. Angel told me." Rae Lynn Downey had died when Lyon was three. Poor  Rae. Poor Evan. Poor Lyon. Tragedy struck everyone in one form or  another, never granting immunity even to those most deserving.

"Just wanted to be sure you knew," he said quietly. "Sometimes he talks  about her." Then he added in a harder voice that was all business, "I  will be home at eight. Lyon's bedtime is eight thirty. I'll say good  night to him when I get in." He stopped at the doorway where she  lingered. She took in his stubble-free face. The crisp, clean smell that  wafted off of him. Aftershave, maybe? "Any questions?"

She licked her bottom lip, the only questions entering her consciousness  a string of highly inappropriate requests. He lifted a sandy-colored  eyebrow, his eyes flickering to her mouth.

"Actually, yes," she said, pausing to clear her throat. "Do you have a map of the penthouse so I can find my room?"

His lips twitched and smile lines bracketing his mouth appeared before  disappearing just as quickly. Her eyes lowered to the shallow dent in  his chin, and she could swear her breasts grew heavy. She definitely did  not remember that cleft. Meow.

"Trust me," he said, his low voice ticking down her vertebrae. "Lyon is as good as a bloodhound."

Even sexier when he teases back.

Landon walked for the front door and she turned the opposite direction,  impressed that she'd avoided ogling his backside as he walked away.  She'd noticed earlier he looked as good coming as going …  which made her  have a brief, dirty thought she had to force from her mind as she neared  Lyon's room.

At the threshold, it appeared a rogue cyclone had struck the  six-year-old's bedroom in the time it took for her to wind her way  through the maze of corridors and hallways. She blinked at the mess.

"Ready to play?" Lyon asked, a huge toothy grin on his face. Well, toothy save for the one missing from the front.

Kimber took in her dress and black and white spectator pumps, then  glanced over at the pile of uncapped magic markers on the carpet. She'd  dressed to impress Landon, but it was apparent that she needed to change  her clothes …  and her expectations.