Kissing a Billionaire

by Hart, Taylor

  “Mr. Charm?” Callie, a student from his advanced acting class who had played lead roles in many of the plays, raised her hand.

  “Go ahead,” he said, focusing on her.

  “I get what you’re saying about characters, but I find it interesting that sometimes characters do things that surprise you. In fact, sometimes the most interesting characters don’t know how to do the thing they want to do.”

  He thought about Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan. “True. That’s the part of the character’s journey we all love to see: the part when they suspend their own beliefs and do the miracles they were born for.” He met each student’s eyes. “Most of the time, the character thinks they want something, but usually what they want isn’t what they really need. That’s the trick to playing any character: knowing the answer to what a character wants and what they need.”

  Callie nodded. “Like in a Hallmark movie when a man thinks he wants a certain job or some material thing he’s working for, but he discovers what he really needs is the love of a good woman.”

  The class laughed, and Ross couldn’t help but chuckle too. “I think you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies, but yes.”

  Even though the pay was less than desirable, he found so much satisfaction in teaching. At the end of the row, his eyes met Kinley’s. He smiled even wider at his daughter. He’d given her his phone and thought she was playing games, but now he could see she was paying close attention.

  Ross continued. “It is a privilege to play a character. To learn about them. To be able to put on their feelings and beliefs and to witness their growth. Never forget that it is a privilege, because they become real to you.” He flashed them a grin. “Also, never forget that you can put on those beliefs and take them off like a jacket, slipping in and out of them. Don’t get caught in someone else’s beliefs, thinking that they are your own. That is important for actors to remember.”

  The camp ended for the day, and he said goodbye to the students before walking Kinley to his truck. He opened the door for her. “You ready to go see your grandma and grandpa?”

  His wife’s parents lived in Gillette, Wyoming, a little over two hours away. They were the best people and loved having Kinley come stay for a weekend every month. They would be coming to get her in just a bit.

  Kinley frowned. “I don’t want to go.”

  “What? Why?” He raced around the truck and got in, starting it.

  “Because I want to be here when the lady wakes up. She might need some girl time.”

  His heart softened, and he took her hand. “If she wakes up, I’ll make sure you get to meet her.”

  “Promise?”

  His heart fluttered, and he felt chills wash over him. Not a premonition, no. It couldn’t be. Dismissing the feeling, he said, “Promise.”

  Kinley sighed. “Okay, but I have a question.”

  “What is that, princess?”

  “What does your character need?”

  Later that evening, Ross sat on his back porch, doing something he rarely had time to do: sit on his porch swing and read a Vince Flynn book. It was an FBI kind of book, high action and high adventure.

  Kinley’s grandparents had arrived, and they’d had sandwiches together and chatted. Kinley had told them all about the woman Ross had found on the ranch and informed them she may have to come back early if the woman woke up.

  Before Kinley’s grandparents left, her grandmother, Sheila, had stopped inside the door, putting a hand on his forearm. “Ross.”

  The way she’d said his name sounded intense. “Yes?” he’d asked, wondering what was coming.

  Sheila had smiled at him. “The way Kinley talks about that woman in the hospital . . . I just want you to know if you ever decided to have a relationship again, we would be so happy for you.”

  It stunned Ross that Sheila would think he wasn’t having a relationship because of them. He’d nodded. “I’m not interested in that, but . . . thank you.”

  Her words had stuck with him all afternoon as he’d moved water and fixed things around the ranch. The question of why he hadn’t had a relationship plagued him. The obvious reason was that he still mourned Brook, but something else pricked at his consciousness, and he thought about the woman in the hospital. He’d found her attractive, and he hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Sure, he’d been raising Kinley, but that wasn’t it. Even Theresa Smart, the other acting teacher who kept asking him out, was cute, and she’d asked him out several times, but he wasn’t interested. He thought of Theresa; she was a bit annoying too.

  Then he thought about Kinley’s question: what does your character need?

  He shook his head, unable to stop Sleeping Beauty’s face from appearing in his mind. He remembered the way her eyes had fluttered open and stared at him like she’d known him. Which was stupid. He tried to focus on the page he’d reread for the third time.

  His phone rang, startling him. Digging it out of his pocket, he saw it was Dr. Frank. His heart raced. “Hello?”

  “She’s awake, and she’s asking for you.”

  He jolted to his feet, confused. “Asking for me?”

  Dr. Frank sighed. “You’re the only one she remembers.”

  The pain thudded across her forehead like a knife jammed into her head. She didn’t know anything, and she didn’t like the barrage of questions they kept asking her like she was a criminal facing a firing squad. She tried to keep her eyes shut, because that was the only thing that made the pain abate.

  Even though they’d all gone out into the hall, she could still hear them through the crack in the door, trying to decide what to do with her. How come nobody had come for her?

  Upon waking, the only thing she remembered was a man. With his beautiful, strong face, he looked like he’d stepped out of one of those romance books in the grocery store or gas station with a cowboy hat, a strong jaw, and a button-up shirt. His cool, blue eyes had looked surprised. Then he’d yelled something, and she’d closed her eyes again.

  She could remember that, but she couldn’t even remember her name.

  Now she was tossed in a sea of questions and uncertainties, and she was terrified. She didn’t know who these people were, where she was, or even who she was. All she knew was that man’s face.

  “Miss,” someone said. She opened her eyes and saw the man in the white coat, Dr. Frank, gesturing to another man—the man in her mind. “Is this who you wanted?”

  She blinked and noted the way the man looked tentative, as though she would strike out and scratch him. She frowned, trying to search her brain for answers. “Do I know you?”

  The man held her gaze, then turned to the doctor. “She asked for me?”

  The doctor nodded.

  “Really?” the man asked the doctor.

  “I can talk,” she said.

  His gaze shifted back to her.

  She remembered the feel of his hand, how it had awakened her. “You touched my hand,” she said softly.

  “And you woke for a bit.” The man took another step closer to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Are you a cowboy?” she asked.

  He grunted, glancing at the doctor. “Sometimes.”

  His response confused her. “Do we know each other?”

  The man rubbed his eyebrow. “No, I found you on my property. You had fallen and bumped your head. I brought you here.”

  Her heart raced, and she tried to remember. “Why was I on your property?” The pain in her head grew more intense with every question she tried to solve.

  “I don’t know. They’ve been trying to find your family. Do you remember anything?”

  Again, there was nothing. She thought of that annoying police chief. “I can’t answer these questions. I don’t want to be here anymore.” She looked past the man, to the doctor. “Please, release me.” She hated the smell of the place, and there was something else she hated that she couldn’t put her finger on.

  The doctor stepped in front of the sometimes cowboy. �
�Miss, we don’t have anyone to release you to.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She knew she could, even though she had this massive pain in her head. She knew she would be okay.

  The doctor frowned. “I’m sorry. Until we find where you belong, it would be dangerous and risky to release you. The hospital can’t take on that liability.”

  “I’ll sign a form,” she said, already tired from the legalese turn of this conversation. How did she know about legalese, she wondered? Unfortunately, she didn’t know the answer to that either.

  “Do you remember what your name is?” the doctor asked.

  She was at a complete loss again. The pain spiked, and she cried out and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  It was his voice, the semi-cowboy’s voice, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  “Where is the pain?” Dr. Frank asked.

  “Same place. I’m okay,” she said, keeping still. She didn’t want to be here, but the pain was horrible.

  The doctor let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if you leave, miss. Not until you’re better and you remember something. The hospital cannot, in good conscience, release you when you don’t even know your name.” Feet shuffled, and then he spoke again. “I’ll give you something for the pain. Open your eyes, little lady.”

  She did so and looked up to see the doctor holding out a pill and a drink with a straw.

  “Take this. It’ll ease your pain and help you sleep.”

  She frowned, wanting to resist. “I don’t like pills.”

  The doctor smiled. “I think you need to sleep.”

  She lifted her trembling hand, hating that she was so weak. She took the pill and let the doctor help her sip the water; then she leaned back, still staring at the cowboy.

  The man stepped forward, taking the chair next to her bed and sliding it closer. “I’ll sit with her, Doc, don’t worry.”

  This man was willing to sit with her when he didn’t even know her. She was touched, and the fear seeping into her receded a bit. She tried to smile at him. “Thank you.”

  Then it all went dark.

  Ross awoke with a start. Pain in his neck reminded him that he was still in a hospital chair. Somewhere around one in the morning, he’d fallen asleep. He remembered thinking that he should drive back to the ranch, but he didn’t want to leave her. Granted, from her earlier interaction with Dr. Frank, she seemed a bit strong-minded and brash. He grinned—the temperament matched the hair color. But who would care about that joke right now? He thought about the way she’d said her soft thank you before falling instantly asleep.

  It had felt like she had meant it. Again, he thought about how alone this woman was.

  Picking up his almost-dead phone, he noted the time: five thirty. It was Saturday, and he didn’t have drama camp, but he always had animals to take care of, and he had Troy’s for the next week too.

  He stood, rubbing his neck and staring at the woman, who was still asleep. The light of the hospital monitor fell across her porcelain skin. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Truly, the woman was gorgeous, and he wondered if she was married or if she had a boyfriend.

  No, he thought, refocusing. It didn’t matter. Somewhere out there, she had a father, and Ross knew how he would feel if his little girl were lost or missing.

  That was the only reason he was here.

  Later that day, Ross had just put the mushrooms and onions in the pan to cook—a nice addition he’d found to grilling hamburgers—when his phone rang.

  It was Dr. Frank. Ross composed himself before answering. “Hello?”

  “Ross.” He sounded out of breath. “Can you come? The woman is insisting on leaving. She’s gotten dressed, and the staff is trying to keep her, but the only person she says she’ll talk to is you.”

  Turning off the stovetop, he grabbed his keys off the peg in the wall by the door. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

  When he arrived, the first thing he noticed was the woman sitting on a bench outside of the room she’d been staying in. She was dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing when he’d found her: hiking shoes, a T-shirt, black leggings, and a windbreaker. The hospital staff must have cleaned them.

  Nadine was hovering near the nurse station, and George was there too. Both of them headed toward him, but the strange woman intercepted him first. “Mr. . . . Charm? At least, that’s what they told me.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “I’ve been informed they will not release me on my own. And I cannot stay here another day, so I’m asking if I can go with you.”

  Shock pulsed through him, and he glanced at Nadine and George, who looked as if they’d already heard this idea. “You want to come with me?”

  The woman held her chin up with a distinct air of certainty, leaving him no room to disagree. “When I do remember, I’ll compensate you for your troubles. I promise.”

  He met her green eyes, disconcerted by the clear attraction he felt for her. She was a couple of inches shorter than he was, roughly five ten, he thought. She was slender, and even though she obviously wasn’t wearing makeup, it didn’t matter. “No,” he said decisively, walking around her.

  “Why?” She grabbed his shirtsleeve.

  The woman was stubborn. He thought of the severe stubborn streak in Brook and Kinley and wondered why all the stubborn women liked him.

  Nadine and George both moved toward them, looking confused.

  Ross scrambled for an answer. “Because I have a daughter, and it wouldn’t be . . . appropriate to have you at my house.” He gently took her hand and pulled it off of his sleeve, then dropped it.

  The woman looked around. “Where is your daughter?”

  He let out a light laugh at the way this woman expected her demands to be answered. He hesitated, giving George a questioning look.

  George only shrugged.

  “Where is your daughter?” the redhead demanded with more umph to her voice.

  He turned back to this woman. Even if she was beautiful, she was irritating. “She’s actually . . . gone for two days, but then she’ll be back.”

  Without missing a beat, the redhead grinned and said, “Perfect. Then it’s not inappropriate. I could just come with you, and then hopefully, I’ll remember something soon, or someone will”—her voice broke—“have come for me by then.”

  “Why would you want to come with me?”

  She sighed, shaking her head and looking distracted as though she hadn’t heard him. “Yes, someone will come by then, so I won’t be there too long, I shouldn’t think.”

  “Why?” His pulse was racing, and he felt nervous, like he was a teenager again and about to play a football game.

  “What?” The woman stared at him, confused.

  “Why would you want to come home with a man you don’t know?”

  The woman held her ground, her face betraying nothing. “Actually, it feels like you’re the only person I do know.”

  His heart hammered louder inside of his chest. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t take a random woman home with him, even if Kinley wasn’t actually there. “No.”

  The woman blinked and her bottom lip trembled, but she kept her head up, her eyes on his. “Please,” she whispered. “I have no one else.”

  It was this last bit of the sentence that got him. How would he feel if Kinley were in this situation? He looked away from the woman, cursing beneath his breath.

  “Please. I won’t be trouble. I’ll help.”

  “Help?” He thought this was doubtful.

  She lifted a finger. “I’ll cook.” A small smile played at her lips. “Yes, I think I know how to do that.”

  Not that he wouldn’t mind having someone cook, but . . . this was insane. He didn’t know her at all, and wasn’t there some place she could go? He turned to George and asked, “Can we talk in private?”

  George nodded and moved down the hallway. “Nadine, please keep an eye on her.”

  Ro
ss followed George, falling in step with him as they walked the length of the hospital floor.

  George stopped, letting out a sigh. “What do you think?”

  “What do you mean, what do I think? She’s asking to come home with me, and that opens me up to a whole possibility of trouble, even if Kinley’s not there. You know that.”

  George winced. “You’re right.” He turned and stared at Nadine and the woman.

  Out of the blue, Nadine laughed, and then the redhead laughed too.

  “I don’t believe she’s dangerous,” George said. “They ran some psych tests, and she seems completely cognizant, except for the fact she doesn’t remember her life.”

  Ross’s heart rate spiked again. “Are you saying you think I should take her, George?” This couldn’t be what the police chief was actually suggesting.

  George let out a breath. “There was no evidence of foul play from her injury. Honestly, I think she slipped on your hillside and fell.”

  “Okay, but shouldn’t she go to a shelter or . . .” He floundered, trying to think of where she would go. “Shouldn’t she go with a woman? Not with a rancher?”

  George nodded. “Nadine offered to have her go home with her, but she refused. She said the only person she wanted to go with was you.”

  “What?” Ross sputtered, caught off guard. Hyper butterflies swarmed in his stomach. “Why?”

  A slight smile played at George’s lips. “She said she trusts you. It appears you are Prince Charm-ing.” He added the ing with a bit of a laugh.

  Ross frowned at him. “Stop it, George.” It was amazing how quickly they could revert to junior high kids all of a sudden.

  George put his hands up. “Hey, I’m sorry. In all seriousness, she only wants to go with you.”

  “What if I were a weirdo? Would you release her to me?”

  “You’re not a weirdo. I’ve known you our whole lives. Don’t worry—a social worker will be assigned to her and checking on her and the whole nine yards. I’ll be checking in too.”