Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby Read online

  Or, more likely, she was seeing what she wanted to see. As if, Jessa. Someone like Finnegan Dean would never be interested in her.

  She shook off her thoughts as she knocked on his office door.

  “Come in,” he called.

  She crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite his desk, immediately jumping into business. “These are the five candidates I’ve determined best meet the criteria you provided.”

  “I apologize for intruding, Jessa.” He paused. “I’ll knock from now on. It’s your room.”

  She nodded, avoiding his gaze. Sweeping the incident aside was the best idea. She could pretend he hadn’t caught her in her plain white bra. Not that wearing something more feminine or sexy would have made it better. She swallowed, sliding the packets across his desk. “Here are the files. I thought you might review them and give me your thoughts. That way I can begin interviewing next Friday.”

  “Next Friday?” He seemed surprised.

  “You gave me a deadline,” she reminded him. “I meet my deadlines.”

  He sat back in his chair, ran a hand over his face, and sighed. “It will wait until after we get back.”

  She let out her breath, slowly. “Get back?”

  “I need to make a trip, four or five days. You and Oscar are coming with me.” He glanced at her, then back at the files she’d placed on his desk. “I know it’s short notice, but it’s necessary.”

  She processed this. “I need to check in on Nate first. He struggles with his math work. Can Oscar and I—”

  “Yes, go,” his answer was short.

  It would do her a world of good. Being so wrapped up in Oscar and Finnegan Dean was likely playing a part in her nocturnal fantasies. She needed fresh air, familiar faces, and adult conversation that wasn’t centered around Oscar—as precious as he was. At the moment, the only things she had to do were care for Oscar and hunt for the perfect nanny. Which brought her back to the matter at hand. “Would you prefer to review these later?” she asked.

  “I’ve cleared my schedule for the day, specifically for this purpose. Can you summarize their strengths and weaknesses?”

  She nodded, having anticipated as much. “My pleasure.”

  “And the trip?” he asked. “Will it interfere with any plans?”

  As long as it wasn’t too far away. Her brothers seemed to be doing fine without her, but she still worried over them—something that irritated her brothers, especially Harry. She sighed. Maybe a trip is a good idea. “No. A trip might be nice.”

  His smile was breathtaking.

  She sat, stunned. It was like she’d made his day, when it was the other way around. Her heart was thumping like mad, the strangest, warmest pull flooding her insides.

  “So, the candidates,” she said, clearing her throat.

  He came around his desk and sat in the chair beside her, leaning close to read over her shoulder as she pointed out those things that had caught her attention. She tried not to get distracted by the tantalizing scent of his spicy aftershave or the way his shirt hugged the well-muscled contours of his upper arm. There was too much riding on this position. She could not afford to let him get to her.

  She worked her way through the first three candidates before Oscar’s high-pitched cry sounded through the baby monitor. She smiled, checking her watch, and stood. “Would you mind giving me fifteen minutes? I’ll get him situated and return?” She offered him the dossier they were reviewing.

  “I’ll read over these until you get back.” He glanced at the monitor.

  She nodded and headed into her room. Oscar was in a full fit of temper, his little face red and his fists tight and flailing.

  “What’s the matter, Oscar? Are you starving, little man?” She cooed, picking him up and patting him. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll find you something to ease that ache in your little tummy, okay? I was with your daddy. He’s worrying over you, wanting to find the best possible nanny.”

  Oscar had calmed a little, but started wailing when she changed his diaper.

  “I know, sweetie, I’m sorry,” she continued. “As soon as you have a dry diaper, everything will be better. I promise, okay? Be patient.” She disposed of the dirty diaper and scooped him. “Now, let’s go.”

  She worked quietly in the kitchen, humming away. When Oscar had his bottle, she headed back to Mr. Dean’s office. But instead of finding him pouring over the dossiers she’d made, she found him on the phone.

  “You’re sure?” He ran a hand through his thick black hair, his barely suppressed anger visible. “I can protect them.”

  She hesitated, a twinge of anxiety nagging the base of her spine. Finn’s posture was ramrod stiff, his voice hard and edged with something almost…menacing. Maybe now wasn’t the time to invade his office.

  “I know this is bad,” he muttered. “We’ll leave as soon as I can. It’s safer there.”

  Oscar chose that moment to burp, drawing Mr. Dean’s attention. His expression shifted, from anger to concern. But his posture seemed to stiffen further, so rigid he seemed braced for something. Something scared Finnegan Dean? Her anxiety doubled.

  He hung up, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

  “I can come back,” she offered.

  “No,” he said. “I should have let that go to voicemail.” He shook his head, returning to his seat and flipping through the dossier with quick, tight motions.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, shifting Oscar from one arm to the other.

  He glanced at her, defensive. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  She nodded.

  “He likes the sound of your voice,” he said.

  “What?” she asked, startled.

  “I heard you on the monitor. He responds to you.”

  She shook her head, far too pleased by his words. “He’s too little to know. But hearing me lets him know he’s not alone.”

  “Maybe.” He held up the fourth dossier. “What about Mrs. Flores?”

  She sat at his side, ready to work. He needed to make this decision so she could get back to her regular life. A life that was full of practicalities and moved too quickly to indulge in fantasies about her boss. And, to safeguard her heart. She was getting far too attached to Oscar.

  They spent another hour in discussion, narrowing the field to three candidates. And through it all, she kept Oscar in the crook of her arm. When she looked down, she saw him staring around, alert and awake.

  “Well, hello, Oscar,” she said, holding him close. “How are you?” she cooed. “Did you want to see your daddy?”

  She didn’t hold the baby out. Finn still wasn’t ready for that—he’d made that clear. But she hoped he might take some interest in his infant son. Finding Oscar a nanny was a kind of interest, yes, but it wasn’t the same thing as bonding with the boy, or falling in love with his watchful gaze and gurgling noises.

  She smiled at Oscar. “Do you approve of our choices?” she asked, glancing at Mr. Dean.

  He was watching Oscar, and he looked—wary. “Is he doing well?”

  She nodded. “He’s a champ. I admit my experience is limited to my siblings, but I’d say Oscar is one of the easiest babies ever.”

  Mr. Dean stood, moving behind his desk to sit. “That’s good. Hopefully he won’t drive away as many nannies as his uncle and I did.”

  She grinned. “Were you wild children?”

  He nodded, arching a brow. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  She sighed, knowing there was no reason for her to linger. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Dean?”

  He looked at her, his smile melting her from the inside out. “I thought we’d progressed to Finn, Jessa.”

  She stood, cradling Oscar. Why did saying his name sound so intimate? “Finn.” She paused. “Is there anything else?”

  He sat back in his chair. “What do you think of the new tagline?”

  His abrupt change of topic made her pause. Tagline? For the new sp
ort hybrids? It had to be. That was the focus of the marketing department right now—chasing down the elusive demographic of drivers wanting fast cars that wouldn’t leave a big carbon footprint. Not an easy task. “You mean: Dean Automotive, redefining smart and sexy?” she asked. “I happen to think it’s quite good.” And her idea.

  “Because it’s a good tagline? Or because it’s yours?” he asked, steepling his fingers in front of him.

  She hesitated, knowing this was an opportunity to remind him that her skill set extended beyond the domestic domain. “I take credit for it. Proudly. It’s exactly the tone we want to set for this new line. Isn’t it? Perhaps I am biased… But the test group seemed to respond favorably as well.”

  “I know, I’ve seen the numbers,” he agreed, those unfathomable eyes riveted upon her.

  She smiled.

  “It’s good work,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.” If she kept smiling like this, she was going to burst. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  He nodded, his gaze fixed on his computer screen as she pulled the door shut behind her.

  A good day, overall. Yes, Harry was going to blow a gasket when she told him she was leaving town. Each day his phone calls were becoming more frequent, and longer. He was managing, but only just. And she understood. He had a life, exams, and responsibilities of his own. The house, their brothers, had always been her responsibility.

  And yet, even he’d been blown away by Finn’s generous offer. She didn’t keep their financial situation from them—they all knew every cent counted. They’d promised to step up, to make this work, and come out ahead for a change.

  Besides she couldn’t leave Oscar—or Finn. Whatever was happening, Finn’s tension was palpable.

  I can protect them. Finn’s words.

  She shivered, holding Oscar closer and sitting in the new rocking chair. Who needed protecting? And from what?

  Oscar lay on her lap, his little eyes red-rimmed and his mouth stretching wide in a yawn. She smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his head, and smoothed the copper curl on the top of his head. “Your daddy loves you, Oscar, he just doesn’t know how to show it yet.” She paused, stroking the baby’s soft cheek. “We need to show him you’re not something to be afraid of. You’re something to love.”

  She sang her brother’s favorite lullaby, rocking Oscar gently until he was sound asleep. Only then did the anxiety return. As irrational as it was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Finn’s phone call had something to do with Oscar.

  Chapter Four

  Finn’s fingers paused over his keyboard at the sound of Jessa’s voice. She’d left the baby monitor on his desk.

  It was no wonder that Oscar responded to her. When she wasn’t talking to him, she was humming. If his son found comfort in her, he understood. In the last few days, he’d spent a surprising amount of time working from home. He’d tried to convince himself it was so he could be available if Jessa needed anything, but the truth was more complicated.

  The wolf needed to be close to Oscar.

  And Jessa, too.

  Jessa.

  He’d find a nanny, and then what? His wolf rejected—violently—the idea of letting her go. Finn’s heart tightened and his pulse quickened, as if he were bracing for a fight. Against himself? Because the wolf wanted her?

  He had no fucking choice.

  How the hell could he function with Jessa as his assistant? Working closely every day, tempted by her scent, her voice, her eyes… What the hell had he been thinking? Even taking pains to avoid her, he still sought out the rhythm of her heartbeat. It was enough, however slight the connection. To lose that… He rolled his head, breathing deep to soothe the wolf.

  But the wolf would not be soothed. Finn felt the heat in his blood. He, the wolf, couldn’t let her go.

  Even though keeping her only ensured he was putting her in danger…

  He ran a hand over his face.

  Anders had called. The Others were on the move. Whether they were coming his way or not, he needed to be ready.

  He sent some of his security team ahead to the refuge. No point moving Jessa and Oscar there if it wasn’t secure. Brown, his security lead, checked the apartment perimeter alarm and headed out.

  The Others and Cyrus, their alpha, had been toying with them for years. The bastard had made his presence known not long after Mal’s attack. Mal’s recovery confirmed that he and Finn were wolves—no human could have survived. Since then, Cyrus could be tied to every accident that had occurred. A loose fuel line on his private airplane. An assistant being mugged and another receiving a faulty prescription that led to an almost fatal poisoning. A fire in his office building. The repeated deaths of his mother’s prized show dogs. Occasionally, packets of pictures would show up—of him, the women he’d slept with, his parents, and Mal. No note, no prints, nothing traceable. But there was no denying the threat. If only Finn could understand why.

  Why keep their distance from Finn? Why all the games?

  Hollis theorized they were too scared to see what might happen if they killed Finn. Finn was alpha of their pack. Hollis believed their packs were genetically linked, so it was possible that Finn’s death might damage both bloodlines. Now more than ever, Finn hoped Hollis was right.

  A dull ache pulsed in his temples. It would be good to return to the refuge, to turn off the noise that filled his mind and connect with his wolf. Too often, he ignored the need to run, to hunt, to indulge the animal inside his skin. If he wasn’t careful, the wolf would force its way out and Finn would lose control.

  The financial report on his desk held no interest. For the time being, he’d put the best interests of the company in the hands of his Chief of Operations and Chief Executive Officer. He had to.

  As far as he could tell, his press release had no impact on sales. Apparently, taking in his orphan baby son didn’t make him any less or more appealing to the consumer public, a fact he was incredibly thankful for.

  Of course, Cara was being dragged through the mud. Anyone she’d ever been involved with was being tapped for potential scandal. Once or twice it had been hinted that he wasn’t Oscar’s biological father, something that would make his life ten times easier. And Oscar’s as well.

  He worked steadily, answering IMs and directing incoming information as needed.

  His phone rang and he answered. “Mom?”

  “Finnegan, we were out of cell range or we would have called sooner. What’s this about a grandson?”

  “Yes, Mom, a boy.” He glanced out the window behind his desk.

  “My, Finn. Well isn’t that…nice? Will we get to meet him when he’s with you? What sort of custody arrangement have you worked out?”

  “He’s mine. Here. All the time,” he answered.

  “But…but where’s the mother? And who is she? Did your father and I ever meet her?” She paused. “She’s not one of your party girls, is she?”

  “Cara Bennett. She was a model. She died in childbirth.” He spoke without inflection, choosing his words carefully.

  “How horribly tragic. But what are you going to do with a baby?”

  “I’m going to raise him, Mom. With the help of a nanny,” he added.

  “Well, good luck with that, dear boy. We never had the best luck with domestic help,” she said. “Your father says hello. We’ll be back in a few weeks and will check in with you then.”

  “Fine,” he said, his frustrating mounting.

  “Good-bye, darling,” she said before the line went dead.

  He stared at his phone.

  Oscar’s cry made him jump. He hadn’t turned off the baby monitor, enjoying the tenuous connection with his son. But now, with the high-pitched wail of his newborn son echoing off the walls of his office, the wolf was on the defensive.

  Finn wanted a drink. And, maybe, he’d check on Oscar.

  “Hey, hey, Oscar.” Jessa’s voice came over the monitor. “Oh, yuck, Oscar. How can something so little make s
omething so nasty?”

  He smiled.

  “I think I’d be crying, too,” she kept on talking. “What a smell. Ooh.”

  He heard shuffling and suspected she was lifting Oscar up.

  “I think this calls for a bath.” Her voice sounded strange, muffled. “And maybe I need to ask Thomas to bring me a gas mask next time he makes a delivery.”

  Oscar’s squealing increased.

  “What? You don’t like Thomas?” she asked. “He’s a very nice man. He’s asked me to dinner, you know. And, between you and me, I haven’t been asked out in a long time.”

  Oscar’s cry softened. Finn frowned. Thomas had asked her out. He should give the baby department manager more credit.

  “See, that’s better isn’t it? All dry. Let’s get you a bottle and then we’ll get you a bath.”

  He stood and headed into the kitchen, knowing full well she and Oscar would be there.

  She was humming, of course, her back to him, a long golden ponytail swinging between her shoulder blades.

  “Evening, you two,” he said.

  “Evening Mr. Dea—Finn.” She smiled. “Joining us for dinner?”

  “What did Augustina leave us?”

  “I’m not sure. Oscar and I were dealing with a toxic waste spill in the bedroom.”

  “That sounds…distressing,” he offered. He opened the oven to find a casserole dish. “Looks like chicken of some sort. With rice.”

  “Sounds yummy,” she said, heading to the table with Oscar and his bottle. “Would you rather eat in the dining room? Augustina told me that’s what you prefer.”

  He set the casserole dish on the table. “I suppose I did eat in the dining room.”

  She nodded.

  He shrugged, hoping that was enough of an explanation.

  He saw her slight smile.

  He pulled two plates down. “Hungry?” he asked, wanting their company.

  “Oh,” she shook her head, flustered. “I’ll wait until he’s done. He needs a bath. Then I can eat. But thank you.”