The Paternity Proposition. Merline Lovelace
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Название: The Paternity Proposition
Автор: Merline Lovelace
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Billionaires and Babies
isbn: 9781408971994
isbn:
Their mother zoomed in on that like a crow diving on roadkill. “Did you check out this company she works for?”
“Of course,” Blake answered. “We ran a complete financial analysis before Alex drove out to the Panhandle.”
“And?”
“Agro-Air is operating on a shoestring. The old timer who founded it …”
“Careful!”
“The, er, individual who founded it is a throwback by the name of Josiah Jones.”
“Josiah Jones!” Delilah looked as though the floor had just rolled under her feet. “Aka Dusty Jones?”
Alex settled the baby against his shoulder and shared a look with his twin. He couldn’t remember the last time either of them had seen their mother’s set back on her heels.
“I think …” Alex said slowly. “No, I’m sure Julie mentioned that was one of her partners.”
“Oh, Lord!”
The two brothers locked gazes again. What the heck was this all about?
“You want to tell us how you know this Dusty character?” Alex asked.
The question seemed to shake her out of a trance. “We locked horns decades ago. Damned if I can remember why. But I do remember that bowlegged bastard could fly his rickety ole biplane like nobody’s business.”
“He’s progressed from biplanes to single-wing PA-36’s.” A tight smile stretched Alex’s lips as he recalled the oil dripping from the Pawnee’s engine. “Still pretty rickety, though.”
A familiar combative light leaped into their mother’s eyes. “And that’s who your one-night stand is partnered with?”
“Her name is Julie,” he repeated tersely. “Julie Bartlett.”
Almost purring with pleasure, Delilah eased the baby from his arms. Satisfaction radiated from her in waves as she tucked Molly back into the sling.
“Unless the Dusty I knew forty years ago has shed his skin and grown a new one, he’s up to his elbows in one kind of trouble or another. Put that PI of yours on him. I’ll bet my new chinchilla coat you’ll find some leverage to hold over him and that tart you slept with.”
“Julie,” Alex ground out. “Her name is Julie.”
“Like I care?” With a wave to her sons, she headed for the door. “This is your daughter we’re talking about. Yours or Blake’s. So don’t screw around. Go for the jugular.”
Alex took the elevator to one of the penthouse apartments on the top floor of the Dalton International building and put the rest of that afternoon and evening to productive use.
He knew he’d inherited his mother’s killer instinct. More to the point, he itched to show a certain green-eyed, slender-hipped crop duster he was not someone she could eradicate from her life like she would a pesky aphid.
Okay! All right! It was more than an itch. During the long drive back to Oklahoma City, it had become almost a compulsion. He could chalk it up to his naturally competitive nature but he knew that was only part of the equation. As she had the first time they’d met, Julie Bartlett had spurred a gut-level response in him.
Once in his sprawling apartment with its panoramic view of the city, he splashed Crown Royal onto ice and settled at his desk. His first task was to turn his PI onto Dusty Jones as Delilah had suggested. It didn’t take long for Jamison to come back with a report on the crop duster’s personal ups and downs. Mostly downs in recent months, he related. Big downs.
While that was in the works, Alex spent several hours at the computer. He and Blake had already run the stats on Agro-Air’s operations and revenue once. Wouldn’t hurt to dig a little deeper. By the time he called it quits sometime after midnight and hit the sack, Alex suspected he’d gathered more information about the company than its principal owner wanted either of his partners to know.
Lacing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the moonlight streaming through the skylights. Now that he’d had time to sort through his roller-coaster day, he could admit the truth. It wasn’t his mother’s acerbic comments or his brother’s legalese or the all-consuming question of Molly’s parentage that had spurred all these additional queries. It was Julie Bartlett.
The prickly, uncooperative, grease-smeared redhead had gotten under his skin this afternoon, even more than the pilot who’d snagged his interest in down in Nuevo Laredo. His bone-deep competitive instincts wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew whether she was or was not the mother of the child that might or might not be his. In the process, he might just finesse the woman into bed again.
Yeah, right! Like he needed that complication in his life right now.
On the other hand …
Images from their night together drifted into his mind, came into focus, sharpened. Alex was damned if he could remember the name of the restaurant they’d eaten at or the motel across from the airport they’d adjourned to. But now that he’d seen Julie Bartlett again, he couldn’t get the vivid, 3-D image of her naked and flushed with desire out of his head. Grunting, he rolled over and punched his pillow.
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