Dominic held the baby while she finished her bottle.
She still hadn’t closed her eyes. He smoothed her delicate brows with his thumb, marveling at each sweet feature that reminded him of Hannah.
“You know something important is going to happen tomorrow, don’t you, petite? That’s why you’re still awake.”
After laying her down and covering her with a light blanket, he sat on the edge of the bed where she could still see him. Her eyelids were getting heavier and kept fluttering. In a few seconds they’d be closed.
Instead of an icy-cold shower, maybe he ought to read the latest parenting tips to keep his mind off his bride-to-be. Hannah was as close as the other side of the wall. If he joined her, he doubted she would refuse….
Meet
Dominic, Alik and Zane
Three firm friends…
Three successful business partners…
Three dedicated bachelors…
But life is full of surprises, and these gorgeous men are about to discover the joys of fatherhood—and of marriage—sooner than they think!
Surprised by fatherhood and ready for love!
Find Alik’s story in His Very Own Baby,
coming up next month,
and Zane’s unexpected encounter with fatherhood
in The Baby Discovery
THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE BABY
Rebecca Winters
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
DOMINIC GIRAUD finally came upon the tiny historical museum and store. He’d been told he would find it about twelve miles outside of Laramie, Wyoming. A busload of tourists appeared to have laid siege to the place.
Though he pulled his topless four-wheel drive to a stop, he didn’t immediately get out of his vehicle. Instead, he took advantage of the beautiful, warm June evening to look around him.
The rugged beauty of this Western landscape was so at odds with the skyscrapers of New York City where he lived, or the Mediterranean ambience of his French birthplace in Vence, he could hardly credit he was on the same planet.
However, because he’d been born in the land of the orange tree, jasmine and lavender, he could appreciate more than most the aromatic scents of sage and Indian paintbrush in the dry air wafting past his nostrils. A man native to the sunny French Midi, he thrived under this cloud-dotted blue sky where the sun had disappeared below the horizon some time ago.
Realizing it might be a while before he could talk with the person running the place to discover the name of the owner, he decided to go off-road and explore the property behind it. He needed this section of land to link the two neighboring properties for a project he’d undertaken in the last year, and probably wouldn’t see completed for several more years at least.
The idea of running a bullet train from the east to the west coast of the U.S. had consumed him for years. Now it was on its way to becoming a reality, thanks to a seminar he’d attended in England celebrating the completion of the Channel Tunnel, an unrivaled engineering feat.
Those without vision had said it couldn’t be done.
They were wrong. Just as they would be wrong about the eventual completion of his bullet train.
At that momentous conference he’d met two Americans, a geologist from New York, Alik Jarman, and an engineer from San Francisco, Zane Broderick. They were men who dreamed the same kinds of dreams Dominic dreamed.
Each being pressed because of heavy work schedules, the three of them had only intended to stay in London for the day, the length of the conference. But once the other two heard his idea, all other commitments were put on hold.
For three weeks they spent literally twenty-four hours a day in a hotel suite working out the intricacies of such a massive project, one that had caught hold of their imaginations and wouldn’t let go.
No longer alone with his ideas, Dominic could concentrate on raising the money and procuring the land while he marveled at the genius and speed with which the others put their scientific contributions to paper. Those weeks marked the turning point in all their lives. They came out of the experience not only firm colleagues in the greatest adventure they would ever undertake, but best friends.
Because of that chance meeting in London he was here now, doing his part to ensure the realization of their dream.
Shifting gears to four-wheel drive, he drove around the back of the store where he discovered a small barn and a vintage one-horse trailer. Nearby, a blue compact car stood parked. In the adjacent corral, a saddled chestnut sorrel quarter horse munched on some hay. All the land beyond the two buildings was an untouched vista of sage, grass and wildflowers.
The place looked lonely, or maybe he only thought that because there was this strange sense of loneliness he’d been feeling since driving out here from town. It echoed somewhere deep inside of him, disturbing him in ways he didn’t care to analyze…not when he’d thought himself totally fulfilled by his work.
Impatient, he shrugged it off and headed toward a ridge he could see in the distance overlooking the river.
By the time he reached the top, his mind was once more immersed in thought over his future plans, and he reacted too slowly as his vehicle began the descent. Almost colliding with a medium-size boulder, he swerved to avoid it, then swore softly when the right rear tire caught the side of it. The next thing he knew the world was spinning and he saw lights.
Hannah Carr frowned when the sound of the departing tour bus faded and another sound took its place. Someone’s horn was honking and wouldn’t stop.
She finished changing her little niece’s diaper, then walked outside the museum to see if the car was anywhere in sight. That’s when she realized the noise was coming from the river area behind them.
Someone was out on her property, which had no road and could only be reached by walking, on horseback, or in an off-road vehicle. They could be in real trouble. Unfortunately there were no other people around for several miles.
If she called the emergency number, it would still take the paramedics a good ten to fifteen minutes to reach the museum. On her horse, Hannah could make it to the river in one fifth of the time.
Haunted by the sound of the horn, which continued its mournful blaring din, Hannah went back inside and put the baby in the playpen. By the time she’d given the six-month-old her favorite donut-shaped toy, Hannah had made a decision.
“Elizabeth? I’ve never left you unattended before, but I’m afraid there’s something terribly wrong outside. I have to go see what it is, but I’ll come right back. Please be my little sweetheart and don’t cry. All right?”
It was a wrench