Baby for the Billionaire(153)

Victoria …

Intertwined with thinking about her sleepy eyes and tousled hair this morning came memories of last night. Her heat, her generosity, her gentle love for his son that contrasted so sharply with her blowtorch sensuality, which had forever altered his perceptions of her.

Dreary?

Not a damn.

Last night he’d gotten a very good feeling about the future. And today he intended to solidify what they already had.

“Ouch,” he exclaimed as Dylan grabbed at a sprinkling of chest hair. The baby gave him a grin that was all gums. Connor laughed back, then pinning Dylan securely to his right side, he used his free hand to turn off the faucet.

Dylan protested vocally.

“C’mon, Dylan, time to get Victoria—” He broke off. That wasn’t right. It should be Tory. Come to think of it, he was Dylan’s father … his daddy … and he wanted to make that fact public.

Yet according to Dylan’s birth certificate his father was listed as Michael.

God, this was getting complicated.…

Dylan’s squawks of complaint grew louder.

And as he drew a breath for the next burst, Connor hastily turned the water back on. “Okay, you win, big fella.” Connor rather suspected he was creating a problem for next time. “Just a few minutes, right?”

Dylan gurgled with satisfaction.

A bolt of love for the bundle of determination in his arms surged through him. Guardianship and custody were only a part of the complicated ties that bound him to Dylan. Fatherhood was so much more.

A sudden thought startled him. Victoria was more than Dylan’s guardian, too. She was also his wife. But not Dylan’s mommy.

Yet, although she might not share a biological bond with the baby like he did, Connor knew she loved Dylan.

And he really had no right to the title of Daddy until he’d formalized his relationship with Dylan by adopting him.

It was possible Victoria would want to adopt the baby, too … that way she would become Dylan’s mother in fact. Dylan would have a mummy and a daddy.

He bounced Dylan up and down until the baby squealed with laughter. That was something else for them to discuss today. He had great plans for a day on the beach. Building sand castles. A picnic. Paddling in the shallows. And he was determined that he and Victoria would enjoy the day every bit as much as Dylan.

Today. The first day of the rest of their lives. Such a cliché, but so true.

He could barely wait.

By the time Connor had gotten a now screaming-in-protest Dylan out of the shower and switched off the faucets, Victoria was no longer in the bedroom.

He frowned as he took in the neatly made bed. He’d expected to find her languishing amongst the covers, reading the papers and perhaps sipping a second cup of tea.

But the room was empty.

And only a hint of Victoria’s subtle fragrance lingered.

No matter. He’d find her as soon as he’d dressed Dylan, and he’d share what he had planned for the day.

Fifteen minutes later Connor had dressed himself and the baby and come downstairs to find Victoria in the kitchen, buttering a piece of toast. She started as he entered, Dylan riding on his right hip.

He halted in the doorway. “I was going to make breakfast in bed for you.”

“I can’t stay. Sorry.” She gave a rueful shrug. “I need to go to work.”

“Work?” For the first time he noticed she was wearing black trousers and a crisp white shirt with pin tucks down the front. “Today?”

Her eyes slid away from his. “Bridget called. I need to go into the office.”

Disappointment flooded Connor. He’d planned—

The hell with it. It didn’t matter a toss what he’d planned. His plans didn’t fit with Victoria’s goals for her life.

Resentment tasted bitter on his tongue. Last night had given him a false sense of wonder. He’d hoped …

Blast what he’d hoped. Victoria’s career would always come first. He’d married her knowing that, so why the hell was he so disappointed?

Because of last night. Because of the way she’d touched him and responded so sweetly and because of the wonder he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes.

He’d been here before. Yet this time, despite knowing exactly what Victoria’s priorities were, despite being armored against her, he’d begun to believe that this time it would be different.

That what they shared was special.