Billionaire's Jet-Set Babies. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.
He tugged the tie back over his head.
If he was so worried, he should cancel his meeting. She wanted to snap at him, but knew her irritability for what it was. Her perfect plan for the day had gone way off course, complicated even more by how damn attracted she was to the man she wanted to woo for a contract, not as a bed partner.
Memories of rustling sheets and sweat-slicked bodies smoked through her mind. She’d had a healthy sex life with her ex, so much so that she hadn’t considered something could be wrong until everything fell apart. She definitely couldn’t trust her body to judge the situation.
“Seth,” she said his first name so easily she almost gasped, but forced herself to continue, “the twins and I will manage. We’ll eat applesauce and fries and chicken nuggets then skyrocket your pay-per-view bill with cartoon movies until our brains are mush. I’ll watch Olivia with small objects, and Owen’s charm won’t distract me from his climbing or strawberry snitching. They’ll be fine. Go to your meeting.”
He actually hesitated before grabbing his jacket from the edge of the bed. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”
Oh, her body needed him all right. Too much for her own good. She was better off using her brains.
Seth stepped from the elevator into the lobby full of arches that led to the bar and restaurant. He scanned the chairs and sofas of rich dark woods with red-striped fabrics. Looking further, he searched past the heavy beams and thick curtains pulled back at each archway.
Thank God, somehow he’d managed to make it here ahead of his dinner partner. He strode past an iron fountain with Moorish tiles toward the bar where he was supposed to meet Javier Cortez, a cousin to royalty.
Literally. Cortez was related to the Medina family, a European monarchy that had ended in a violent coup. The Medinas and relatives had relocated to the United States, living in anonymity until a media scoop exposed their royal roots last year.
Cortez had served as head of security to one of the princes prior to the newsbreak and now oversaw safety measures for the entire family. Landing the Medinas as clients would be a huge coup.
Seth hitched up onto a stool at the bar, waving to the bartender for a seltzer water. Nothing stronger tonight.
Jansen Jets was still a small company, relatively speaking, but thanks to an in, he’d landed this meeting. One of those “Human Web” six degrees of separation moments—his cousin’s wife’s sister married into the Landis family, and a Landis brother married the illegitimate Medina princess.
Okay, that was more like ten degrees of separation. Thankfully, enough to bring him to this meeting. From this point on he had to rest on his own merits. Much like he’d told Alexa. Alexa …
Damn it all, did every thought have to circle back around to her?
Sure he’d noticed her on a physical level when he’d first stepped on the plane, and he’d managed the attraction well enough until he’d caught her eyes sliding over his body as he’d undone his pants. The ensuing heat wave sure hadn’t been a welcome condition right before a meeting.
But he needed her help, so he would damn well wrestle the attraction into submission. His kids were his number one priority. He’d tried calling his ex multiple times since landing in St. Augustine, but only got her voice mail. Life had been a hell of a lot less complicated when he was flying those routes solo in North Dakota.
There didn’t seem to be a damn thing more he could do about his mess of a personal life. Hopefully he could at least make headway in the business world.
Starting now.
The elevator dinged, doors swished open and Javier Cortez stepped out. Predictably the bar patrons buzzed. The newness of having royalty around hadn’t worn off for people. The forty-year-old royal cousin strode out confidently, his Castilian heritage fitting right into the hotel’s decor.
The guy’s regal lineage didn’t matter to Seth. He just appreciated the guy’s hard-nosed efficiency. This deal would be sewn up quickly, one way or another.
“Sorry I’m late.” Cortez thrust out his hand. “Javier Cortez.”
“Seth Jansen.” He stood to shake Javier’s hand and then resettled onto a barstool beside the other guy.
The bartender placed an amber drink in front of Javier before he even placed an order. “I appreciate your flying down to meet with me here.” He rattled the ice and looked around with assessing eyes. “My wife loves this place.”
“I can see why. Lots of historic appeal.”
It was also a good locale to conduct business, near the Medinas’ private island off the coast of Florida. Although Seth hadn’t been invited into that inner sanctum yet. Security measures were tight. No one knew the exact location and few had seen the island fortress. The Medinas owned a couple of private jets, but were looking to increase their transport options to and from the island as their family expanded with marriages and new children.
Cortez tasted his drink and set it on the cocktail napkin. “Since my wife and I are still technically finishing up our honeymoon, I promised her a longer stay, the chance to shop, laze around by the pool, soak up some Florida sun before we head back to Boston.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, thanks. I hear you have your kids and their sitter with you.”
Of course he’d heard, even though Seth had only been in town for about an hour. The guy was a security whiz and obviously didn’t walk into a meeting unprepared. “I like to work in time with them whenever I can, so I brought the kids and Mary Poppins along.”
“Excellent. Then you won’t mind if we postpone the rest of this discussion.”
Crap. Just what he didn’t need.
The stay here extended. Less taken care of tonight, more tomorrow and even the next day. “Of course.”
Cortez stood, taking his drink with him as he started back toward the elevator. Seth abandoned his seltzer water.
They stepped into the elevator together, and Cortez swiped his card for the penthouse level. “My wife and I would enjoy having you and your kids meet us for breakfast in the morning, your sitter, too. Around nine? Great,” he said without waiting for an answer. “See you there.”
Holy hell. Breakfast in a restaurant with a one-year-old was tough enough. But with two of them?
He stepped out onto the top floor, Javier going right as he went left.
The closer he came to the suite’s door, the louder the muffled sounds grew. Squealing babies. Damn. Was one of them hurt? He double-timed toward his room, whipped the key card through just as the door opened.
Alexa carried a baby on each hip—two freshly bathed and wet naked babies. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile wide. “I just caught them. Holy cow, they’ve got some speed for toddlers.”
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