FOUR

LESLIE’S POV

It took only a moment for my embarrassment to be replaced by anger. “How the heck can you call this a private party?” I snapped, stepping further in.

My hands brushed against the line up of switches, looking for the button that would restore normal lighting to the room, when I couldn’t find one, I walked over to the window and threw open the velvety curtains – too bad, it was already dark outside.

“What sort of depravity is this?” I asked, hands on my hips and glaring at him. “There’s a perfectly normal party going on downstairs, but heaven forbid you engage in anything remotely normal, you have to come up to this – heaven forsaken room, and pay these women with the self esteem of dried mud to entertain you?”

I was well aware I was over stepping, but I felt so angry and disappointed that this man was also not a suitable father for the baby, I wanted to turn him suitable.

“I mean what the heck is wrong with men like you? –”

“ Men like me?” He asked that same brow lifted again, but I wasn’t done.

“Would it kill you to be responsible for once? To think of how your actions would affect the people around you?” One of the ladies hissed, then stared fearfully  at me when I whirled around to face her. “And you, get out – all of you!”

Her eyes shot passed me to him, and whatever she saw there made her turn and leave, the other eight women following in her wake.

I wasn’t aware I had been counting, till I heard his voice. “Would have been ten, two other were previously engaged.”

When I turned around, he had gotten up from the chair, and was standing directly in front of me.

I had underestimated how tall he was, how he easily towered over me.

I sucked in a breath, suddenly nervous as my gaze dropped to his broad chest. “Why do you do this?” I whispered, for want of something better to say. How do I start telling him he may be a father? How could I shift the conversation from depravity to fatherhood.

“No you don’t,” he whispered huskily, and one finger hooked under my chin, tugging till I was forced to  look back into those clear grey eyes. “Don’t go timid on me now.”

“I’m not timid!” I snapped, then whatever I would have said was lost in the recesses of my mind as he bent and claimed my lips with his.

What the… I lifted my hands to push him away, then they stupidly got lost running over his firm chest. I noticed he had his left breast tattooed, and I ran a hand over the length, wishing it was some kind of braille I could read through my fingers.

I moaned, my body betraying how much I had missed a man’s touch, but this wasn’t just any man.

His own breath caught, and the rough stubble on his chin grazed my skin as he deepened the kiss.

“I didn’t come here for this,” I whispered as his hands snaked under my dress, drowning a whimper from me as he molded me to himself.

He tugged a little and the dress came off easily. I gasped, tearing away from his embrace as I stared at him.

My lips felt swollen from his kisses, I couldn’t meet his eyes, and thankfully, the room wasn’t chilly or I would have been shaking by now, I was wearing nothing but my panties.

What was the difference between I and the Carla escort, or the rest of the women who had been here, earlier for his pleasure?

Humiliation stung my cheeks, but I didn’t lift my hands in futile attempt to cover myself.

The man in front of me raked a hand through his hair, looking every bit as frustrated as I was. “Look, you can drop the act now, I’m getting a bit impatient. I’ll give it to you, you’re good. You’ve successfully driven away my boredom,” his eyes gave me a languid once over. “But now, there’s nothing I want more than to be buried deep inside you, so stop with the antics.”

My cheeks flamed at his words, but I still couldn’t understand him.

He frowned, did a double take. “Logan didn’t send you?”

I shook my head, and he raked a hand through his hair. “Who the hell are you then?” He asked again.

I swallowed, staring at the patterns on the floor. I felt cloth brush my arm, and I raised my eyes to see he’d taken off his shirt and was now offering it.

Gratefully, I shrugged in. “I just wanted to tell you I have your baby.”

His eyes gave me another once over, lingering on my chest till I thought my cheeks would just explode if they got any redder. “No.”

My eyes shut up to meet his. “What do you mean no?”

Again, the ghost of a smile played at his lips. “No, I’m sure I haven’t  slept with you – yet. When I do, it would be something both of us are not going to forget in a long time.”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. The baby, it’s not mine, it’s – my sister’s.” How could I explain the baby belonged to the woman my husband had cheated with, and now I was looking for it’s possible father. I gulped in a breath. “The baby belonged to my sister, she died giving birth, but before that, she mentioned you were the father.”

It was his turn to draw in a ragged breath. “Barbie.” He took a few steps back, and sank into the cane chair. “There was an article about both of us you know?”

Many articles, but I didn’t point that out. “You seem like some top person in Helix, I don’t think you’ll get fired or get in trouble for the scandal though,” I offered. It was the twenty first century, and the globe was rife with the baby daddy culture, and yet…. Some organizations still stuck to archaic rules of proprietary.

That almost-smile played at his lips again, and amusement danced in his eyes. “You think I can get fired? You really don’t know who I am.”

When my eyes searched his still without recognition, he offered. “Max Crane. I own Helix co.”

My mouth dropped into a wide ‘O’, and I was so mortified by my oversight, I turned to flee the room.

He caught me easily, lunging out of the chair like a battle ready panther. I was not prepared for the glorious feel of his firm, muscle-corded chest as I slammed against him.