The Grandiose Billionaire's Unknown Child

Prologue:

In all that his brother had told me about brian, he'd never mentioned that he was so damn good-looking.

Not the smooth good looks of a catalog model.

But the rough-around-the-edges kind that made my breath catch in my throat and set my pulse racing his rain-soaked thick black hair was smoothed back from his forehead, emphasizing the strong lines of his face, lean cheeks, a square jaw and a blunt chin.

He badly needed a shave, Olivia noticed, and his thin white shirt was soaked through, cinging to the lines of his muscular chest and broad shoulders.

And yes, damp, bedraggled and mud splattered, he was still the most attractive man who had crossed my path in ages. But I pulled my gaze away with conscious etfort. Get a grip girl, I coached herself. This guy's the enemy.

Self conscious:

My name is Olivia Christopher, I am living with my younger sister, faith, whose fall in love with the second son of Adams family. Will. And I gave her all my love and support in her new found love. But will's elder brother Brian Adams believed that she came for money not for love and he sworn to stopped their marriage with all his might. They plan to elope and leave me to deal with the over protective brother in law of mine.

I was having a sound sleep when someone began to bang on the door. Banging hard enough to rattle the hinges. The fact regiered dimly on my sleep-fogged brain. As if this place needs any help fallng apart at the seams, oh! Gosh. thank you very much, was my first waking thought. Then I sat up, swung my legs to the floor and brushed a careless hand through my sleep tousled hair.

The banging persisted. "All right, all right. Keep your shirt on, pal," I muttered. And pulled on my sapphire-blue silk robe and clicked on the lamp near the landing before descending the stairs.

No hurry, I thought. Was was certain of the identity of the caller, though we had never before met. The fash of light within had obviously given my vistor encouragement, and he immediately called out on the other side of the door. " I know you are there, Will. Open up. blast you. I'm not leaving here until you open the door, do you Hear me......?

The tone was deep, booming and belligerent Just what I had expected, although I hadn't counted on Brian Adams arriving in the pitch black middle of the night. My sisters fiancé will Adams , had described his older brother, Brian as an extremely stubborn man, and I fully expected a difficult encounter. But to descend upon me at this hour in the middle of a rainstorm, I found positively..berserk.

While Will had warned me about Brain, I had believed he'd been exaggerating. Well, he wasn't, I decided as the door banging and off-color expletives hit new heights. I vaguely wondered if he would get violent- especially if he learned how he'd been tricked by the three of us...... me, Faith and Will. The little scheme had been Will's plan. With Faith's help, the young lovers had persuaded me to help them escape the wrath of Will's overbearing, overprotective brother Maybe I was foolish to answer the door at all, I thought Most folks I knew in the small town of Sweetwater, Texas, would greet a stranger at this hour with a handy household shotgun But I was not the type to own a gun. I wouldn't even allow my son, Noah, to play with water pistols. Besides, I was betting Brian Adams was far worse than his bite Okay, so he was a high-powered, corpotate attorney from new York City, no less. The man would naturally be on the argumentative side, I reasoned But hadn't Will promised that Brian wasn't so bad once you go to know him? Right now, shouting himself hoarse on the other side of my door, he sounded like my worst night mare.

"And I'll stay out here all night if I have to......" the angry voice continued. It was a miracle that the noise hadn't disturbed Noah, I realized. But my son had always been such a good sleeper, a trait I had been especially thankful for as a single parent "Well, I guess it's show time, I murmured to myself at the bottom of the steps. I took a deep breath, then tightened the sash on my robe before I swung open the door His face veiled in shadows, Brian Adams met my carefully composed expression with a dark, scaring stare.

"You sure took your time answering the damn door, lady. Is this a taste of the Texas hospitality I 've heard so much about?"

"Speaking of time-do you have any idea of the hour, Mr......?"

"Don't you dare pretend you don't know who I am, Olivia Christopher," he cut in. His eyes narrowed dark slits . "If there's one thing that gets under my skin, its pretense-especially when's dished out by woman."

"I m sure that any number of things get under your skin, Mr. Adams," I replied wih small smile

"And I'm sure my brother's told you all about me by now, Ms. Christopher."

"Only the low points, I replied with a grin.

"Cute. I'Il have to remember that ," He smiled, as well, folding his arnms across his broad chest and leaning into the light. He took a long appraising look at me, and I had my first good look at him as well. Even, white teeth flashed against tanned skin. Deep lines bracketed his wide, sensual mouth, and small attractive creases appeared at the corners of his dark eyes. The transformation was mesmerizing. Dangerously so, I realized.

"Well.....aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked finally . And I had plenty of practice facing down intimidation men, but the monment my gaze locked with my adversary's, I felt an egg-sized lump lodge in my throat

"Of course, come in," I replied in a shaky voice.

As he stepped into the foyer, I silently scolded myself for letting his looks affect me but then again I'd been taken by surprise.

In all that Will had said about his brother. he'd never mentioned that Brian as so damn good looking, Not the polished and predictable looks of a catalogue model, but the rough-around-the-edges kind, that made my breath catch in my throat and set my pulse racing. As I busied myself, Iatching the door, I secretly watched him stroll into the living room.

Black as a raven's wing, his rain-soaked hair was smoothed back from his forehead, emphasizing the strong lines of his face, lean cheeks, a square jaw and a blunt chin. He badly needed a shave, I noticed, and his thin white shirt was wet through, clinging to the lines of his muscular chest and broad shoulders. A colorful silk tie-the expensive designer type-hung undone from his collar. Probably ruined, I reflected Though I was sure with his money he'd never miss it. Damp, bedraggled and mud splattered, he was stil the most attractive man who had crossed my path in ages. But I pulled my gaze away with conscious effort. Get a grip. gal, I coached herself. This guy's the enemy.

Besides, his personality clearly negated the attractive packaging. He was my adversary, and I had to play my part. Wonderful Will-who might even be my brother-in-law by now, if all had gone as planned-and my own beloved sister, Faith, were counting on me. I had to ignore Brian Adam's good looks and remind myself that he was bent on destroying my sister's precious chance for happiness with the man she loved.

And for no justifiable reason, as far as I could see. Will had told me a story about Brain's past , he'd been spurned in his early twenties by his first love, a young woman he hoped to marry. But as the story went, Brian's father did not approve of the girl. Convinced she was only after the Adams's , fortune, he met with her secretly, persuaded her to break off with Brian and paid her a large lump sum to disappear. Coupled with the carly loss of their mother, Will claimed the experience had burned his brother so badly he'd never again trust a woman in a romantic relationship. And unfortunately, not only were any women he met suspect, but women that Will met, as well.

Well, it was a sad story, indeed, I reflected as I walked toward Brian.But we all have sad stories to tell, I thought. and I knew that only too well. One bad experience was no excuse to ruin other people's lives.

He faced me squarely as I stood in the arched entrance way to the room "All right, where is he?"

"I have no idea who you're speaking about "

I claimed with a wide-eyed stare

"Of course you do, damn it! Don't give me those big eyes and fluttering lashes I'm immune to your charms, Ms. Christopher, plentiful as they may be ." he promised me. I few two thousand miles from New York, drove three hours from the airpot to this god forsaken sowhereville, got lost five times on the road and walked the last mile in the pouring rain. His voice had started off at a reasonable tone, but rose with each breath so that his specech now crescendoed at shouting level, his face an angry scowl. "Now, you tell Will to get out here this istant ! I'm tired of playing games."

I stared at him for a moment, speechless Then I laughed, politely covering my mouth with my hand. Perhaps it was a nervous reaction to his tirade. Or some defensive reflex meant to show him I was not cowed by his anger. But it really was funny if you thought about it, I realized. Brian Adams was truly a man on a mission. You could see it from the obsessed gleam in his coal-black eyes. He truly believed he'd arrived just in the nick of time to prevent me from marying Will Adams. Who he also believed was cowering in some dark corner of my house.

"I don't appreciate your amusement at my expenses, Ms. Christopher," he said sternly.

"Please, call me Olivia," I suggested politely. We are on shouting terms and all."

"All right, Olivia," he agreed through grittedbteeth. "Now you are either going to tell Will to come out and face the music, or I'll search this place from cellar to attic."

"Help yourself." I waved my arm airily. "But it won't do you any good. Will isn't here."

He quickly glanced around the room, as it expecting his brother to step out from behind the couch or a curtain. Then he looked back at me, glaring at me, obviously considering his next move.

"Maybe that is true," he said finally, rubbig his jaw with hand." I doubt that even my brother would stay in hiding this long while his fair damsel faced the dragon alone."

I watched him as he paced around the room, peered out the Window at the wretched weather and then dropped the curtain back in place

Gee, I'd never been called a fair damsel before. It was a little corny...but cute

"So, why isn't he here?" Brian persisted. "Are you two superstitious? No letting the groom view the bride before she walks down the aisle and all that?"

"I'm not the least bit superstitious,"I said honestly. "But Will is. Funny thing for a scientist, isn't it?"

"Very amusing," he replied blandly. "Where is he? You might as well tell me now and save us both.a lot of trouble," he warned.

"I don't know," I answered simply. When he stared at her in disbelief, I shrugged. "Honestly."

He started to say something, then pursed his lips and sighed. I wondered if he was giving up or just getting a second wind.

I watched him warily as he gazed around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. I saw his expression turn to an appraising, scornful look. It was a look that spoke volumes of me -he was wealthy and a snob. He'd never known anything but the very best life had to offer-raised on a huge estate in Connecticut, a Park Avenue apartment, private schools and Ivy League colleges, etcetera. and I was on the other hand, raised in a backwater town just like Sweetwater, had left home pregnant and unwed at age seventeen and barely finished high school. After years of scraping by at menial jobs, I had my own home and business now, an achievement that I very was proud of.But still, while I had always found my home quite comfortable and had decorated it to my taste, could understand how it must look to a man of his reputed wealth. I gazed around as he did, seeing the place from his eyes. The swayback couch, of 1990s vintage, was actually valuable-if I ever had the extra money to refinish the wood trim and repair the tear in the burgundy satin upholstery that was now cleverly camouflaged by a hand-knit afghan. The rocker, with its carewon velvet cushions, was in need of repair as well. I'd nursed Noah in that rocker, it held such fond memories.

The Oriental-style area rug that covered the polished wood floor had seen better days. But I had other, more pressing financial priorities at the moment than finding a replacement. Paying the utilities bills, for instance. Besides, I was waiting for a suitable rug to pass through my hands at my shop. How could I force myself to pay retail prices, when sooner or later I'd come across the pertect replacement for free?

"You collect antiques, I see," he said finally.

"Some pieces are antiques. Some are just...old," I admitted. "I got most of the things through my business. I have a shop in town," I explained. "It's sort of a combination thrift store, antique and vintage clothes shop we sell all kinds of thing."

"Yes, I know all about it Olivia's Attic," he replied, in a smug, know-it-all tone.

"Yes, that's right, I answered, lifting my chin.

At five-nine, I was tall for a woman. But he was at least six foot two or three I guessed, and when he glared down at me, I felt almost...petite.

A feeling I did not often experience in the company of a man.

He stalked around my living room like a disgruntled tiger, practically growling under his breath. He picked up a china dish off the end table and checked the imprint on the bottom. It was Limoges, a discontinued pattern. Despite the hairline crack in the finish,it was worth something, especially to a collector.

"Nice," he noted as he carefully set it down again."From your shop as well?"

"That's right." I replied.

"I imagine you don't make much profit, if you take home all the best pieces for yourself."

"I do all right," I bristled. The nerve of theman. As if it was any of his business how much profit I made.

He laughed, a cold, hard sound that contradicted my claim.

"I've already told you once. Don't lie to me. I know very well what kind of trade Olivia's Attic does-or doesn't do.

"Do you?" I challenged.

"Down to the last dollar I' ve done some research, you see. Your prolit margin is not very...... impressive."

I felt myself flush red with anger to the roots of my hair. I didn't make much money from my shop, it was true, But I did have my writing. It had been just a hobby for years, but if my publisher was right, I might be making more money than I'd ever dreamed with my sccond mystery novel, which was just about to hit the bookapps and had already received several good reviews.

But perhaps Mr. Know-lt-All's investigation had missed that fact, since I wrote under a pseudonym.

Despite Will's warnings that his brother would pull out all the stops, the very idea that he had investigated me.......spied on me.......made my blood boil.

"You're the last person on earth I'm interested in impressing." Mr. Adams, I replied smoothly. "But just so your facts are straight, you can note that I have other sources of income."

"I'Il bet,"" he said in a harsh, accusing tone. "Like my brother, for instance?" he added harshly, Well, as of tonight, you can strike Will Adams from your balance sheet. You'll have to find some other

Wealthy boyfriend to set you up in the affluent style to which you obviously aspire. Clearly, your tastes exceed your income, Ms. Christopher."

I stared at him, too shocked to speak.

"Of course, with your looks, it shouldn't be too hard to find another rich sap," he added before I could reply "With that face.....and body to match..... I'm not surprised you had a guy like Will twisted around your little finger," His hot, appraising glance swept down my thinly clad figure, making me feel practically undressed. While I knew I was decently covered,

I instinctively clutched at the neckline of my robe. Then I turned on him, and my temper exploding.

"You have some unbelievable nerve! Waking me up in the middle of the night. Raving like a madman. Coming into my home and insulting me in this outrageous manner!"

I knew I was only playing a part, but how dare he accuse me......accuse any woman he'd barely met five minutes ago-of trading money for romantic

favors. Besides, if Will wanted to give his girlfriends gifts, even if those gifts included money, it was hardly his older brother's business.

"Yes, play the part of the outraged maiden, why don't you? The sensitive, innocent flower, trampled and slandered by a brute. An absolute beast," he added in a mocking tone.

"Have I bruised your tender sensibilities so harshly, Ms. Christopher? Well, let me put it to you another way then. As far as I can see, you are-as they'd say in the good old days......a fortune hunter, madam. Plain and simple, one who is after my brother's money. If you think you' re going to marry him, think again," he shouted at me.

"I'm sure you're the one who needs to think again, Mr. Adams, I replied, echoing his cutting tone. "Your brother is an intelligent, responsible adult who can and will choose who he wishes to marry . And without your grandiose, overbearing interference or approval. I might add."

"You will not marry him,"Brian Adams countered. He stared at me from across the room where he stood silhouetted against the long frame window. He was an intimidating man, some part of my brain noted. Intimidating, infuriating-and even now -disturbingly attractive.