Page 25 of Hired For the Billionaire's Secret Son

Talking to her parents wouldn’t take the guilt away. ‘I don’t know if it would help, Bo.’

He winced. Then he stood up and bent down so that his eyes were level with hers. ‘It’s not something you can solve now, so come back to bed.’ He pulled her to her feet, slid his hand around her waist and dropped it to cup her butt cheek, to pull her into him. He was erect and Ollie sucked in an excited breath.

‘I need to have you again but we’re running out of time because another, younger Sørenson is going to start demanding your attention soon.’

Ollie glanced at his watch and realised that he wasn’t wrong. They had maybe half an hour before Mat woke up. Since Bo could take her far away from reality to a world where only pleasure existed, she was happy to follow him back to bed.

A week later, in his office, Bo scowled at his phone and released a series of hot curses. His mother, damn her, was demanding that they get together. In her words, she wanted to hear about the woman who’d accompanied him to the Møller ball. Bridget had missed the social event of the season because a potential client had demanded a last-minute dinner meeting. His mother wasn’t one to let a ball—or a family or her son—get in the way of a potential deal.

Since his mother never concerned herself with his love life, Bo surmised that the gossips in her circle had noticed the amount of time, and the amount of attention, he’d given Ollie at the ball. His mother wasn’t particularly interested in his life but she hated not being in the know...

She didn’t suspect that he was keeping bigger news from her...

Bo tossed his phone onto the desk. A month had passed since Mat had arrived in his life and he’d yet to tell his mother about his son.

And he knew why... Because, while he might be head over feet in love with Mat, he knew Bridget wouldn’t be, and he didn’t want to see the lack of interest in his son that he’d experienced his whole life.

It was only when he’d hit his late teens that his mother had started to show him any sort of attention, and had made space for him in her busy calendar. When he’d asked her why, she’d told him, with her usual forthrightness, that he’d finally arrived at a point of being interesting. Babies were ridiculously annoying, children even more so, and teenagers were tedious. It was only when he’d became an adult that she’d found him worthy of expending her energy to have a conversation with him.

He couldn’t explain Ollie without explaining Mat, not that he needed to. And he wasn’t ready for her to meet Mat, not yet. He wasn’t prepared to share him with anyone but Ollie. He was too new, too precious, and he wanted to keep him to himself for now.

He would postpone having lunch with his mother for as long as he could and he’d use work as an excuse. After all, it had been her favourite excuse to get out of spending time with him for most of his life.

Bo looked at the designs on his drawing board and pulled a face. Between spending his nights with Ollie and Mat—they’d agreed that they would continue to sleep together until she left to return to the UK—he wasn’t getting much work done. This summer was turning out to be less than productive but, in his defence, it was the first summer he’d had a baby.

And a lover who’d lasted more than a week.

And, to be honest, his feelings, if he could believe he was even using the word, were causing him more grief and loss of sleep than his many concerns about being a brand-new father. The line between Ollie as nanny and Ollie as his lover had been obliterated and his house was no longer the same quiet and controlled space it had been before. It was now filled with the sounds of his son laughing, his lover singing—off key—and the smell of her subtle scent perfuming the rooms. In his bed he found an innovative and sexy lover; her enthusiasm for him and how he loved her was such a turn-on. Out of bed, he found a stunningly bright and well-read companion, someone whose mind he enjoyed as much as he did her body.

He was, in a nutshell, temporarily domesticated and the idea scared him to his core.

He felt so at ease with her, calm and in control. Oh, they bickered—Ollie tried anything she could to get out of making coffee in the morning and he’d never met anyone who shed hair as she did. But they argued lightly and he found an excellent way to get her to be quiet was to kiss her.

Ollie, bless her, loved to be kissed.

Damn, he was in a world of trouble here. She was leaving in four weeks, stepping out of his and Mat’s lives. There were ten CVs on his laptop, ten potential nannies for Mat who needed to be interviewed. He wasn’t interested in any of them. He only wanted Ollie and couldn’t see how he and Mat would go on without her.

But they had to; they would. He wasn’t a guy who did commitment. What they had was new, bright and shiny, and his feelings for Ollie were probably more intense because they were mixed up in his feelings for Mat. But he wasn’t prepared to expose his son to a relationship that mightn’t work. He’d watched his parents’ relationship as it had moved through its various stages of decay: they’d started with barbs, moved onto arguments and had then ended in outright hatred.

Then they’d stopped talking and acknowledging each other at all. Bo thought that stage had been the worst of all. Arguing and fighting had meant that there was some emotion involved; dismissing and ignoring someone meant they couldn’t even summon the energy to do that. He’d watched and hated the process. He’d never put Mat in the position of having to do the same.

A small part of him wished that Ollie had never dropped into his life, but another part of him was grateful she had. He was a mess of conflicting emotions, something he was very unaccustomed to. He needed her to go, but he wanted her to stay. He didn’t want to feel any more for her than he already did, but he wanted to know every last thing about her.

He wanted to make love to her for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t keep her in his life...

It was official: he was a mess. And he might just be losing his mind.

Bo turned at the quick rap on his door and turned to see Ollie standing there, dressed in a short navy-and-white summer dress. She wore white trainers on her feet, and she’d piled her hair up into a messy knot on the top of her head. She looked fresh, lovely and, at that moment, far too young for him. Mat sat on her hip, the ear of his stuffed giraffe in his mouth.

‘Hey,’ she said, resting one hand on the empty pram. ‘We’re going to Torvehallerne for lunch and to look at the food stalls. I thought that you might like to join us.’

He should stay, should try and catch up on all his work, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Wherever Ollie and Mat were was where he wanted to be. And it had been ages since he’d visited the beautiful glass hall with its many food vendors selling local produce, artisanal products and delicious food.

After putting Mat in his pram, Ollie walked towards him, placed her hand on his chest, and stood up on her tiptoe to brush her mouth across his. She pulled away, but he lifted his hand to grip the back of her head to keep her lips in place. One small kiss wasn’t enough, he needed more. If he could have laid her down on his couch and stripped her naked, he would have done that too. In Ollie’s arms, when her mouth was under his, he forgot everything else. He forgot he had a difficult mother, that he was a single father, that she was leaving...

She made that sexy sound in the back of her throat as his tongue tangled with hers, and her hand curled around his neck as she pushed her slim body into his. He ran his hand up the back of her thigh and, when she lifted her leg, he slid his hand under the dress to cup her butt.

She made him feel powerful, more masculine than he ever had before. How could he be expected to give her,this, up?

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