Bargaining with the Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove)

by Maria Hoagland

  At the top of the stairs, she let go to open the door. She ushered him to the loveseat and turned on a floor lamp behind it.

  “There’s something I need to show you,” he said, breaking the silence between them. “To be honest, I was hesitant to bring this forward because—” He paused, but she waited. “I’m not sure really who currently owns the building. My grandfather insisted the Goulds did, Roger Luman obviously has some kind of claim—though murky, it apparently was legal enough—and then I heard you have a contract to purchase it?” He shook his head. “I’m not going to say it is Roger’s, but because it was found between your shop and mine . . .”

  His rambling wasn’t making much sense. This wasn’t where she’d thought the conversation would go. She’d expected more apologies, more about her jewelry, an explanation about what happened. The direction he was currently heading in made no sense. She kept from shaking her head and gripped her hands in her lap instead.

  He dug into his pocket and pulled out an antique watch on a chain. The gentleness with which he held it in his cupped hand made her think of protecting a baby bird. After a moment, he reached out and reverently transferred it to her. The heat from his palm had warmed the smooth metal of the cover, and she ran her thumb over the case.

  Before she had a chance to look it over, he brought a photograph out of the folded sheet of paper he carried. He didn’t say anything, just handed her the ivory paper. The black-and-white photograph was of a classic 1920s couple. He wore a suit and a newsboy hat. She was dressed in a dress just past her knee, a cloche hat snug over her forehead. They were young and beautiful and very much in love. But why was Kian showing this to her? What did this have to do with the two of them?

  Autumn looked closer, paying particular attention to the jewelry because that was what she did. She recognized the ring immediately. “Are these your great-grandparents?” She didn’t need his affirmation, though she saw him nod as she leaned forward to see the watch that sat in the man’s hand. “Is that . . . ?” She held the pocket watch in her hand up next to the photograph to compare.

  “I think so. And then there’s this.”

  He handed her a note, which she read over quickly. If it was legitimate, it explained the watch’s origin.

  She looked at him, eyes wide. “Priceless heirlooms.” She jumped up and went to the safe under the counter. A few flicks of her wrist and she opened it to retrieve his great-grandmother’s ring. She sat back down, her thigh touching his, which she tried to pay no attention to. This time, she picked up his hand and placed the ring inside, curling his fingers around it. “Thank you for letting me borrow it. It was an inspiration.” She lifted the pocket watch to so she could see it better. “And this is truly magnificent.” She clicked the crown button, and the cover popped open, revealing the face. From what she could tell, it kept good time.

  And then she remembered how he’d started this conversation. She dropped her hands with the watch into her lap and searched his face. “I’m confused. What are you not telling me?”

  He blew out a breath. “The thing is, I’ve always had Great-Grandma’s ring, but not the watch.” His swallow looked painful and he pulled his eyebrows together. If only she could read his thoughts. “I found it. Inside the pocket door between our shops. If you own the building, you own this too.”

  Her instinct was to wave off his concern. She didn’t want his family’s watch—and even if it wasn’t his great-grandfather’s, she didn’t have a need for it. He’d found it. At the same time, her heart went out to him. By bringing this to her attention, Kian had demonstrated integrity that made him even more attractive.

  “I brought it because I want you to offer the pocket watch, ring, and note as your lot for the silent auction. Now that we can prove they belonged to Al Capone, they have to be worth a lot, right?” He tried to put the items in her hands.

  But she wouldn’t take them. “This note, Kian, it’s what you’ve been looking for. It’s a clue to your family history, isn’t it?”

  “Not exactly.” He was so sincere, she couldn’t argue with him, not when he was likely correct.

  “I can’t take your family heirlooms.” She would never be able to live with herself if she did. She didn’t have any idea what she would do for her auction piece, but this wasn’t it. “I need my auction donation to be my name, my brand.”

  He nodded, silent for a moment. “Then you need to go with you—be true to yourself, your name. Your jewelry is great. What you’ve created for the Barefoot Ball is perfect and perfectly on theme for a gangster ball, but shouldn’t the auction piece be what you love—not what Veronica wanted, not because it’s the Barefoot Ball?”

  He had a good point. She nodded. She still didn’t know what she was going to do, but he was right.

  “I wanted to pay you back,” Kian muttered. “I already owe you so much.” He slumped back into the loveseat, his head tipped up on the back cushion.

  Except for his pained expression, he looked like he could fall asleep right then. She had to ease his suffering. “I’m not sure I get why everything’s always a ‘deal’ with you, why you keep track of who owes who. I know everything has a cost, but I don’t.” She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. He didn’t move, but he did accept the gesture, curling his fingers around hers. “I can’t be bought, Kian. I’m tired of making deals. No matter what happens with the building, the pocket watch is yours.”

  Through her speech, she’d been paying more attention to the hand touching his, engulfed in his warmth, a feeling of protectiveness in the sheer size difference. His hand was so strong and yet so gentle. In her other hand, she’d been rubbing her thumb over the watch cover, twisting it through her fingers, flipping it absently, but she stopped when she felt an odd dent in one section. Needing both hands to inspect it, she pulled her hand from his, wishing she didn’t have to. Comforting him had been the perfect excuse, while an hour before, she hadn’t been sure she’d ever have the right to hold his hand.

  “There’s a dent here.” She squinted to see it better in the low light.

  Kian sat up, his eyes open again. “I figured it was damage from the sliding wall or something.” He looked over her shoulder but didn’t crowd her, and his warmth was something she wanted to curl into and enjoy, but it wasn’t time.

  The dent was a strange shape that looked vaguely familiar. It took a moment, then finally clicked. She needed her magnifier and better lighting to be sure.

  “Come on.” She grabbed his hand again, thankful for another excuse. “We’re going back to the shop.”

  He wrinkled his brow and looked around them.

  “Workshop,” she emphasized.

  They rushed down the stairs, and she flooded the workspace with light. “How did you say the wall stays locked? A magnet?” She placed the pocket watch upside down in the circle of light, positioning it under the magnifying glass. “Can I borrow the ring again?” She held out her hand, like a surgeon asking a nurse for a tool. Which was what she was doing, if her hunch was correct. With the ring in her hand, she waved him to step closer so he could see.

  “Just a guess. I’m not sure it will work.” Using the tip of a slender utility knife, she outlined the dent with its fine point. “See the shape? It reminded me of—” She held the ring up to the dent. “—this.” The unique feather shape that stuck out over the stone was a mirror image of the dent. Not sure how it would work, but more certain than ever that it was the exact shape, she flipped the ring over and lined it up. All she had to do was get close, and a magnetic pull locked the feather into place.

  “That’s crazy,” she said. “The feather must not be made from gold—I’d assumed because the rest of the ring definitely is, but for it to be magnetic . . .”

  She let go of the ring, and it stayed balanced on the back of the watch, but it didn’t seem to have a purpose. Nothing happened.

  “Can I try?” Kian asked.

  She handed him the pair, and he flipped the chai
n to the opposite side of the crown, which he then clicked with his thumb. This time, instead of the front opening to the watch, the back unlocked where it hadn’t before.

  Autumn leaned closer, unable to believe her eyes. “Is that a compass?”

  “Looks like it.” Kian turned it around, and the pointer bobbed but stayed on north. Strange that with magnets like these embedded in the casing, both the watch and the compass were unaffected. “Kind of cool.”

  He was about to snap it closed, but Autumn wanted a closer look. “There’s got to be a reason the compass is hidden and needs a key. May I?”

  He handed it back to her, and when she brought it under the bright lights, something else became clear. “A map.”

  She stepped back so he could see. The carvings on the inside cover crossed to the other side and drawn on the background of the compass.

  He turned it around a few times and scratched his hand across his stubbled jaw. “I think I might know where this is.” He stopped and looked at her. “What are you doing Monday?”

  20

  Waiting until Monday to check out the compass map just about killed Kian, but his Saturday was full of clients and hosting another show at Spokes, and Sunday was the recovery day he never gave up. Besides, he had some narrowing down to do to know for sure where to go.

  Sunday, after sleeping in and attending church, Kian pulled maps up on his laptop. Layering topography and residential maps, he experimented to get the correct size. It took him hours to narrow his search, but by focusing on the river depicted on the inside cover of the pocket watch, he finally had it figured out.

  Until he double checked everything while waiting for Autumn Monday morning.

  With paper maps in front of him, he took a highlighter and circled the area he planned to focus on today. He was eighty percent sure he had pinpointed the area in the pictures, but over the past decade, he’d been over all the trails and had never seen a thing. Nearly a hundred years since Al Capone had supposedly been in the Eureka Springs area, it was irrational to think that Kian would find any kind of clue to prove his family history. Yet after finding this compass, he couldn’t not follow where it led. Literally.

  He dropped his head in his hands. This could be a dead end—and for that matter, the last one he had. If this didn’t pan out, he might as well forget about trying to prove anything and move on to focus on the here and now.

  The door to Spokes pushed open and Autumn walked in, dressed in shorts and a V-neck tee, looking even more beautiful in her casual clothes than when she was dressed up for work. Her smile brightened the room and lifted his mood immediately.

  “Ready for a ride?” He stood, folded the maps, and tucked them into his pocket.

  “I figured as much.” She wiggled her toes in her running shoes. “I opted against hiking shoes so my ankles could move more.” She held the door open, waiting for him while she stared off across the street toward the parking lot. “Are the bikes at your house?” She’d noticed the absence of mountain bikes, but she hadn’t noticed his pickup missing?

  “I had a different kind of bike in mind today. Something a little faster.” He pulled two motorcycle helmets from behind the counter and handed her one as he walked past her out the door. “Let’s just hope I don’t get pulled over getting to the ATV trails.”

  Choosing to take his dirt bike made the most sense, although it wasn’t strictly street legal. Even if he had a motorcycle—something on his bucket list for sure—a dirt bike was the best vehicle for the job. It combined a mountain bike’s ability to navigate narrow trails with a motor to conserve energy for all the ground they had to cover. What he hadn’t considered was how nice it would be to have Autumn’s arms wrapped around his ribs for hours on end. That was a pure bonus.

  When they got near the spot he planned to scour, he parked so he could show her the maps. They dismounted, and he spread the paper out over the seat. Then he pulled out the pocket watch and ring and popped open the back. “If I figured right, the compass is showing this fork of Beaver Lake with this stream here. Because the background on the compass is zoomed in so close, I can’t be absolutely sure until we’re on top of it, but I think it’s a trail or old road turning west from here.” He shrugged. “It’s a long shot, and I doubt we’ll find it right away.”

  He searched her face for any indication that she regretted agreeing to this misadventure. “How’s the jewelry going? I don’t suppose you were able to magically fix my mistake.” Why was she even out here with him when she had so much of her own work to do? His guilt doubled on top of itself.

  Autumn shook her head. “I’m not done yet, no.” She paused, probably trying to figure out how to say something without hurting him. She didn’t need to worry. He deserved whatever she had to say. “I think being out here, helping you if I can, is worth it. It will get me out of my own head for a while, and who knows? Maybe it’ll help inspiration strike when I least expect it.”

  She was sweet to say so, even if he was skeptical. What could he do other than take her at her word? Especially since they were already out there.

  “Having another set of eyes is really going to help. I was thinking that if my great-grandfather was his chauffeur, that means what we’re looking for is an old road, not just a trail, right? But I think it would come off this one. However, a lot can grow over in a hundred years. So keep an eye out. If you see a trail you think we should follow, squeeze that side, and we’ll take it. We’ll probably have to backtrack a lot, but process of elimination may be our only option.”

  The wind swished the tall weeds around them, and the tree branches began to sway a little more than he liked. He looked up at the increasing darkness despite the early hour. “We should keep an eye on the sky as well.”

  Autumn followed his gaze. “We’ve got time. A few sprinkles won’t melt me, I promise.” She nodded her head to the trail in front of them. “Let’s go. I’m excited for the ride. A little wind on my face might be exactly what I’m looking for. Now let’s find what you have been searching for.”

  He smiled. She was amazing, selflessly putting her own worries aside to help him. Admiration for her swelled warm in his chest.

  They’d ridden for nearly two hours and had checked the whole area that could possibly be included on the compass case when a crack of thunder caused Autumn to clench him in a vise grip so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe.

  He slowed to a stop and let the engine idle, not climbing down, but turning so she could hear him. “Sounds like we don’t have much time.” He really didn’t want to give up, not when they had to be close, but he had to call it. He’d wasted enough of her time, and now, with the weather getting dangerous, it wasn’t right to keep her out here. “Should we head back into town?”

  Her usual smile sagged. “I’m sorry, Kian, but I think we probably should.”

  He nodded and turned back around. When she secured her grip, he throttled up. At the same time, the overhead clouds broke loose. Within minutes, torrents of rain had already fallen and the mud was making the trail a mess.

  Which was more dangerous—being out in a thunderstorm, or maneuvering a dirt bike with two people in the mud with no visibility? They needed shelter, but they’d been on the lookout for hours and hadn’t seen a thing.

  They were miles from the main road when Autumn squeezed his left side. “Look ahead on the left!” she yelled near his ear.

  As rivulets of water poured downhill, it pulled the undergrowth with it, revealing what had to be an overgrown road, two tire tracks barely visible but most definitely there. How had he missed it when he’d been looking so closely? Except that with the angle of the spur coming off the curve of the road, there was no way anyone could maneuver the turn unless they were on their way to the main road. Anyone accessing it had to be coming from the woods rather than from town, and they’d have to know exactly what they were looking for.

  He wanted to pull out the pocket watch compass to check, and he would have under normal conditi
ons, but a large crack of lightning overhead made the decision for him. They needed shelter, even if it was only a thick copse of trees. Being open to lightning on a dirt bike was asking for trouble, and he wouldn’t be surprised if hail was imminent.

  He dug at his pocket and handed the watch to Autumn, praying the magnet was strong enough to hold his great-grandmother’s ring in the transfer. “See if you can find it,” he yelled over his shoulder. She probably wouldn’t hear him, but maybe she would understand what he meant.

  He was about to give up looking for an actual shelter when Autumn squeezed his left side again. He’d missed that offshoot as well, but he turned onto it, grateful he’d brought her along. Almost immediately, she squeezed right, and he followed her direction.

  The road wound around the back of a small hill where an old shack stood, partially carved into a cave in the rock. Momentarily more relieved to get out of the elements than realizing the possibility that they’d discovered what they’d been searching for, he parked as close to the shelter as possible and they ran to the door, only to find it padlocked. The window, on the other hand, was unlocked, and after some jimmying, he had it open far enough for them to climb through.

  “Whew!” Autumn pulled off her helmet and set it upside down on the old wooden floor. “At least it’s dry in here.” She touched the top of her head and laughed as she looked up to see a leak in the ceiling. “Well, mostly.”

  He knew what she meant. Debating on whether to close the window again, Kian decided it was worth closing out some of the chill and noise. The window probably wouldn’t get stuck permanently. If so, it looked rickety enough he could break them out if he needed to.