The Billionaire And The Bassinet

Lanie had the smile of an angel. Achingly vulnerable. Completely kissable. Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication About the Author Letter to Reader Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Epilogue Copyright

Lanie had the smile of an angel. Achingly vulnerable. Completely kissable.

Garrett forgot for a second where they were or that Lanie was eight months pregnant. All he could think was that he wanted to kiss her, right then, right there. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d wanted to kiss a woman this badly.

Why did she have this effect on him? Did the woman weave some sort of magic spell?

Garrett stared determinedly out the narrow window, watching the occasional car pass outside the doctor’s office. He tried to think about a land development company he’d been considering buying for the Blakemore Corporation. He tried to think about his upcoming trip to Japan to consult on an overseas merger.

But no matter what he did, his mind kept drifting back to Lanie.

How would he feel if Lanie truly was his wife and she was having his baby...?

Dear Reader,

Silhouette Romance novels aren’t just for other women—the wonder of a Silhouette Romance is that it can touch your heart And this month’s selections are guaranteed to leave you smiling!

In Suzanne McMinn’s engaging BUNDLES OF JOY title, The Billionaire and the Bassinet, a blue blood finds his hardened heart irrevocably tamed. This month’s FABULOUS FATHERS offering by Jodi O’Donnell features an emotional, heartwarming twist you won’t soon forget; in Dr. Dad to the Rescue, a man discovers strength and the healing power of love from one very special lady. Marrying O’Malley, the renegade who’d been her childhood nemesis, seemed the perfect way for a bride-to-be to thwart an unwanted betrothal—until their unlikely alliance stirred an even more incredible passion; don’t miss this latest winner by Elizabeth August!

The Cowboy Proposes...Marriage? Get the charming lowdown as WRANGLERS & LACE continues with this sizzling story by Cathy Forsythe. Cara Colter will make you laugh and cry with A Bride Worth Waiting For, the story of the boy next door who didn’t get the girl, but who’ll stop at nothing to have her now. For readers who love powerful, dramatic stories, you won’t want to miss Paternity Lessons, Maris Soule’s uplifting FAMILY MATTERS tale.

Enjoy this month’s titles—and please drop me a line about why you keep coming back to Romance. I want to make sure we continue fulfilling your dreams!

Regards,

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor Silhouette Romance

Please address questions and book requests to:

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To the best friends a writer could have—Jill Shalvis and Mary Schramski.

SUZANNE McMINN

lives in a small Texas town. She always dreamed of being a writer, so she feels as if she’s living in a fantasy these days. And with a real life including a husband, three young children and a scary mountain of laundry that seems to grow all by itself, she needs an active fantasy life to keep her going! She hopes her readers enjoy coming along for the ride. Suzanne loves to hear from readers and can be reached at: P.O. Box 12, Granbury, TX 76048.

Dear Reader,

Babies! I love babies. I love the way they blow bubbles and coo and laugh and spit up.... Oh, wait a minute, now I remember why I stopped having them. Seriously, I had three babies before I could shake off the baby lust. My two boys, Ross and Weston, are in elementary school, and my daughter, Morgan, is three. They aren’t babies anymore, and maybe that’s why I love writing about that stage of a child’s life now. Babyhood passes swiftly, and sometimes it’s hard to enjoy it while it’s happening, because you are so tired from all those midnight feedings! Thank goodness for photographs to immortalize how they looked...and books to remember how it felt to love and cuddle them when they were little enough to fit into the crook of your arm. Whether you’ve already had your babies, or are still looking forward to that day in the future, I hope you enjoy reading The Billionaire and the Bassinet, and imagining along with me that special day when your newborn comes into your life. Ah! Babies...

Happy reading,

Suzanne McMinn

Chapter One

Lanie Blakemore opened her front door onto a sweet spring afternoon in Deer Creek, Texas and stared into a face she knew—and had never thought she’d see again.

Both a dazed numbness and a pulsing electricity hit her all at once. Was he real? A bizarre product of her imagination?

Around her the world sharpened. Bees buzzed merrily about the honeysuckle vines, their drone harmonizing with the flap of sheets from the backyard clothesline. The sugary scent of the cookies she’d just taken out of the oven mingled with the fragrance of freshly mown grass, carried up the street by the light May breeze.

She tried to reach out, touch him, find out if he was real—but she couldn’t. Her hands felt as if they belonged to someone else. Her heart hammered in her chest, deafening her to any other sound—to the birds chirping from their nest in the oak tree, to the distant hum of a car on the next street over, to the words coming out of the man’s mouth as he stood in front of her.

“Ben?” she whispered, one hand grappling for the door frame, her knees soupy. Her other hand went instinctively to her swollen stomach.

The man was saying something to her. At least, she could see his mouth moving. She still couldn’t hear him. A rushing sound filled her ears then, and in another second, everything went black.

Garrett Blakemore lunged forward, cursing, and scooped the woman in the doorway into his arms just before she struck the stoop. She felt surprisingly light, fragile.

It hadn’t occurred to him that his resemblance to Ben would shock his cousin’s widow to this extent. The last thing he’d meant to do was scare the living daylights out of her.

At least, he hadn’t meant to scare the living daylights out of her yet.

Moving quickly inside the house, Garrett adjusted his grip on the unconscious woman. Along with the strong, sweet fragrance emanating from the back of the house came the more subtle scent of something soft and feminine. Something that reminded him of springtime and apple blossoms.

Something innocently alluring.

Garrett pulled his thoughts up short. What was wrong with him? The innocence of Ben’s widow was definitely in doubt, and no amount of feminine allure could resolve that particular question.

What Garrett was after was proof. Hard, scientific evidence, one way or another, to show that Lanie had been telling the truth in the letter she’d sent. Ben’s father, Walter Blakemore, needed the truth—and Garrett owed it to the uncle who’d raised him to help find it.

And he owed it to Ben.

Garrett crossed from the foyer to the parlor of the old house, worried about the woman’s state of unconsciousness. Fainting couldn’t be good for anyone, and she was pregnant—that was obvious enough. At least that part of her letter hadn’t been a lie.

Garrett registered surprise at the contrast between the home’s faded exterior and its bright interior as he gently placed the woman on one of the long couches and sat beside her on the edge. The cozy parlor wasn’t what he’d expected.

Outside, a crumbling sidewalk led to a narrow front porch nearly consumed by unruly bushes. A worn sign stuck up from the midst of the scraggly lawn, its flowing pink letters announcing the home to be the Sweet Dreams Bed and Breakfast. The home itself looked to be about a hundred years old, with pink gingerbread trim decorating the flaking white wooden siding.

The inside presented a shining contrast. Soft peach walls and plump contemporary-style couches were set among gently aged antiques. Handwoven rugs decorated the polished oak floor. A vase of fresh-picked flowers cheered one corner. It was comfortable and warm and very, very feminine.

Awkwardly Garret patted Lanie’s hand, hoping for a response. She was young, he noticed as he sat beside her. Probably about the same age Ben had been. He’d seen her only once before, at Ben’s funeral. She’d arrived as the service had begun and had left the instant it ended. But he remembered her—remembered the soft blond waves, the delicately featured face, the mysterious eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

He remembered that she’d been the cause of so much misery in his family for so many months.

She looked small and vulnerable now. Her body, except for her swollen middle, seemed slender beneath the flowing T-shirt. And despite everything, he couldn’t help feeling a surge of some sort of primal, protective instinct. The sensation was unfamiliar. And unwelcome.

Focusing deliberately on the problem at hand, Garrett patted Lanie’s hand again and called her by name. She didn’t move. He thought back to his first aid training in college. He noted she wasn’t wearing anything constricting. The pink cotton shirt, with its soft, scooped neck, flowed loosely to her hips, with white, clingy leggings following the slender line of her thighs and calves below.

Very shapely thighs and calves, narrowing down to slim ankles and small feet encased in white tennis shoes.

Garrett swallowed, his gaze traveling back up her legs. Pregnant women weren’t supposed to be sexy, were they?

He was tired. That had to be it. He’d sworn off women after his marriage—a short-lived debacle that had finished off whatever naive delusions about love and trust he might have once had.

Apparently, however, his libido was in rebellion, reacting to anything female that came within fifty yards, no matter how inappropriate. Garrett took a deep breath and forced his gaze from Lanie’s shapely legs. He reached for one of the fat peach pillows tossed into a side chair and propped it beneath her ankles.

“Lanie?” he called again, softly. “Lanie?”

He ran a finger along her cheekbone, gently trying to rouse her. He wondered what color her eyes where, what had been hidden behind those dark glasses at the funeral. Minutes ago, when she’d opened the door, he’d barely had time to register anything at all. He hadn’t noticed if her eyes were brown or blue—

Suddenly, as he dropped his hand from her jaw, her lashes fluttered, and he had his answer. She had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen, bugger than the Texas Hill Country sky and at least as mysterious. Slowly, cautiously, she focused her gaze on him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you all right?”

Lanie blinked, remembering where she was, remembering the man in front of her. The man that looked like Ben—but wasn’t Ben.

She forced back tears. She’d thought, for just that one second—

“I’m fine,” she managed, her mouth cottony. She struggled to sit up, but fell back again as black spots filled her vision and nausea choked her. She felt weak, boneless.

“Careful. Not so fast.”

She noticed his voice. So like Ben’s, yet different. It was deeper, harder, darker—like so many other aspects of the man, she realized, as her vision once again cleared.

The likeness to Ben was only superficial, she could see now. This man’s hair was blacker and thicker than Ben’s, his shoulders broader, his jaw more square, his lips more sensual, his eyes more penetrating.

Swallowing dryly, she felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. And very much alone.

He was a Blakemore. He had to be. No one could look this much like Ben and not be a Blakemore.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his gaze unrelenting. He’d been sitting beside her, but now he stood, towering over her. He was tall, solidly built, larger than Ben.

“I’m fine,” Lanie said again, sounding feeble even to herself. She pushed herself up again, this time gingerly, until she came to a sitting position. Her body was starting to cooperate, thank goodness.

“I don’t—I’ve never fainted before,” she added self-consciously.

The episode embarrassed her. How long had she been out? How had she gotten from the back door to the couch? Of course he must have carried her. The thought of being held in the arms of this stranger made her incredibly uncomfortable.

She thought she remembered something, just as she came to—had that been his hand she’d felt on her cheek? All she remembered was the touch. The gentleness.

She frowned, bewildered by the clouded memory. Could this man with his hard mouth and cold eyes have touched her so tenderly? The skin of her cheek tingled with lingering awareness, confusing her further.

“Do you need to me to call a doctor for you?” he asked. His words were solicitous, but his demeanor remained impassive.

Lanie shook her head.

“I’m Garrett Blakemore.” His serious, hard eyes never left hers. “And you’re Lanie McCall, I take it?”

“Lanie Blakemore,” Lanie said automatically, not surprised. Since when had the Blakemores ever accepted her as one of their own? She’d only faced Walter Blakemore once, at Ben’s funeral. And the old man had coldly turned his back at her approach. A slap couldn’t have been plainer.

She worked to place Garrett’s name. Ben’s cousin, she remembered quickly. She recalled that he and Ben had been close as children, but not so much as they’d grown older. The two had been raised like brothers after Garrett’s parents had died in a plane crash. Garrett had fitted right into his uncle’s empire of wealth, real estate and business holdings. He loved the power, the pressure, the hours and the travel. All the wheeling and dealing that Ben had detested had come naturally to Garrett.

“I’m here on behalf of Walter Blakemore,” Garrett went on without acknowledging that she’d even spoken. “In regard to the letter you sent him.”

Lanie froze, instantly alert. Months of inner turmoil had preceded the letter. Ben had described his father as controlling, domineering, powerful. But this baby was a Blakemore, and her conscience had left her no choice. Walter Blakemore had the right to know his grandchild. And her baby, already robbed of one parent, had the right to know his grandfather.

“The baby isn’t due for another month,” she pointed out. What could Walter Blakemore want with her now, before the baby was even born?

“Right. Well, there are several things that need to be settled, if you feel well enough to talk.” Garrett arched a brow and waited.

“Settled?” Lanie’s nerves went on red alert. “What do you mean, settled?” An unfamiliar bunching sensation moved across her lower abdomen. Instinctively she slid her hand over her stomach. Then the pain receded, and she refocused on the man before her.

He moved to sit down in one of the chairs across from the couch. “Do you mind?” he asked politely, and Lanie shook her head again.

He chose a hard-backed chair. It was Friday afternoon—a business day. He’d probably spent the morning in an Austin boardroom before making the hour’s drive to Deer Creek, yet his shirt wasn’t even wrinkled. Somehow, his ultrameticulous appearance only added to the daunting aura that surrounded him. He was a man accustomed to wielding power, to efficiently dictating to the world around him—and having it obey him.

“Walter is concerned about the baby’s welfare,” Garrett said abruptly. “He’s worried about the baby being born in a rural area, where the medical care may be inadequate. He’d like to bring you to Austin—”

Lanie’s eyes popped. Shock drummed through her bloodstream. “What?” She had no intention of going anywhere!

“He’s prepared to provide you with a place to live, and the finest medical care until the baby is born. As you know, Ben was his only child, and if this is Ben’s baby, it will be his only grandchild and heir—”

“If this is Ben’s baby?”

“Of course,” Garrett went on, not responding to Lanie’s interruption, “paternity—and the child’s rightful inheritance—can only be established by the appropriate blood and DNA testing which we will arrange to have performed at the time of the child’s birth—”

“No!” Hurt, more than she’d thought possible, considering she barely knew Walter Blakemore, washed over Lanie. Just knowing anyone would even think she might lie about the baby being Ben’s—for money, no less!—felt like a stab to the heart.

“According to your letter,” Garrett carried on calmly, “you’re now eight months pregnant—which is approximately the same amount of time that has passed since Ben’s death.” His cold eyes raked her. “I’m sure you can understand Walter’s concerns.”

“No. No, I can’t.”

Lanie pushed herself up from the couch heavily, her hips aching from the baby’s weight. As she stood, another painful sensation, this time sharper and harder, spun out over her belly, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

Garrett stood as well. “I understand you’re upset—” He stopped short. “Are you all right?” He stared at her, and for the first time he didn’t look quite so sure of himself.

“I’m fine,” Lanie bit out. “I want you to leave. You can go back to Austin and tell Walter Blakemore—oh!” She couldn’t speak as another agonizing sensation rolled over her abdomen.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He sounded downright panicky now. Lame felt the hysterical urge to laugh, but she was in too much pain.

“I don’t know.” She sank back down to the couch, shaky, wrapping her arms over her belly as the pain ebbed again. “I think—I think I might be in labor.”

Chapter Two

“What did you say?” Garrett wanted Lanie to tell him he’d heard wrong.

She didn’t.

“I think I might be in labor,” she said again. Her voice shook and her pupils grew enormous.

Apprehension fingered up Garrett’s spine. He wished he was back in Austin. He wished he was anywhere but where he was. He wasn’t used to being around pregnant women. Especially pregnant women who said they were in labor. “I thought you said that you were only eight months along,” he insisted.

“I am only eight months along,” Lanie said quickly, her big eyes filled with anxiety. “It’s too early! And Patty’s out of town. I can’t have the baby when Patty’s out of town.” She sounded really scared now.

Garrett blinked. “Who’s Patty?”

“She’s a friend. She’s my birth coach.” She twisted her hands in her lap.

Her obvious distress registered with Garrets. Suddenly whether Lanie carried Ben’s baby or not didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was a human being who needed help.

And so did he. Emergency childbirth was not in his repertoire. Stocks and bonds, real estate and development, business mergers and takeovers—not babies. Definitely not babies.

“We need to get you to a doctor.” And fast. Lanie looked like a terrified rabbit, and Garrett wasn’t feeling much better himself.

“Yes.” Lanie didn’t move.

“Do you have a bag?”

She stared. “A what?”

“A bag. You know, a bag. To take to the hospital with you,” he clarified impatiently.

They always had bags in the movies, didn’t they? Garrett’s thoughts hurtled along. In fact, he was starting to feel like one of those movie dads-to-be—as in, panicked. Only in the movies, the moms-to-be always seemed to know what they were doing, and in this case Lanie wasn’t helping.

“I haven’t packed one yet.” Lanie stared at him. “You know, I might not even be in labor,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. Maybe it’s false labor. I don’t even feel anything now.” She seemed to latch on to the idea, brightening.

False labor. Garrett had no idea what that was, but he wasn’t taking any chances on ending up playing doctor in the parlor. She needed medical attention. He couldn’t be responsible for any harm coming to her unborn child, even if it wasn’t Ben’s.

“You’ve fainted,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t you at least let your doctor know about that?”

He heard the soft intake of her breath, watched her press her fingers to her lips. “You’re right.” She looked worried now.

Garrett took charge. Picking up the phone on the side table, he turned to her. “What’s your doctor’s number?” He checked his watch. He hoped her physician didn’t leave early on Fridays.

Lanie reeled off the number automatically while Garrett punched it in. When it started ringing, he handed her the phone.

Garrett listened while Lanie asked for the nurse, then described the hardening and bunching in her abdomen and reported the fainting incident. She was silent for several moments, listening, before thanking the nurse and replacing the receiver.

“Well?”

“She told me not to worry, that fainting won’t hurt the baby, but they may want to run a test for anemia. She thinks I should go ahead and come into the office so Dr. Furley can check me. As for the contractions, they might be false labor, but she wants to be sure.”

Lanie felt silly already. So much for the poise with which she normally prided herself. A few isolated contractions, and she’d practically fallen apart. She didn’t even want to think about the fainting episode. That hadn’t been like her, either.

Annoyed, she stood up and retrieved her purse and keys from the kitchen. She nursed the tiny hope that when she came back to the parlor, Garrett would have taken the hint and decided to go back to Austin. She never wanted to see him again.

Unfortunately he was standing by the door waiting for her.

“Ready?” he asked. “My car’s out front.”

Lanie did a double take. “I’ve got my own car,” she pointed out, stubborn now that the pain had gone. “I can drive myself. It’s false labor. I’m sure.” She felt perfectly fine now.

“You weren’t so sure a minute ago,” Garrett responded.

“I changed my mind.” The last person Lanie wanted assistance from was the man who’d virtually accused her of lying about her baby’s paternity. Now that she’d lost the edge off her fear, the anger at the Blakemores for doubting her word about Ben being the father of her baby returned full force.

“Well, I haven’t changed my mind.” Garrett stood his ground. “I’m not about to let you drive over there by yourself.”

Lanie stared back at him, frustrated. She’d liked him better a few minutes ago when he’d looked flustered. Unfortunately he seemed to have recovered what she suspected was his usual arrogance.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter,” she informed him coolly, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder, the keys in her hand jingling at the motion. “You were just leaving, as I recall. I can get five minutes across town to Dr. Furley’s office on my own, thank you very much. I feel okay now. Really.” She was starting to wonder if she’d imagined the severity of the contractions. She was stressed, that was all.

“I never said I was leaving. We still have business to settle—”

“No, we don’t,” Lanie said firmly, certain of at least that one thing. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not going to Austin with you, and I’m not the slightest bit interested in Walter’s tests. He can accept or not accept the baby, it’s his choice.”