Her Broken Hero Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 8)

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Her Broken Hero Billionaire (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 8) Page 10

by Stephanie Fowers

“No reason at all,” he said with a laugh, and he gave Hannah a lingering sidelong glance. “Except I enjoy the company.”

  Veronica made a sound of disdain and flounced the other direction. Hannah would think that the woman was jealous, but it seemed more of a control issue. Maybe Veronica thought someone else in Jett’s life would jeopardize her standing as his personal assistant? But she had nothing to worry about.

  Of course, Jett had no idea what turmoil he caused. He led Hannah down a hallway that led to his room. She clutched onto the dog’s collar to prevent the muddy creature from escaping, just as Jett apologized briefly. “Sorry for the mess, but I’ve got an incredible jet bath in here. You’d think I would’ve tried it out by now, but so far I’ve only used it on the dog.”

  Jett stepped into a cream-colored room clearly designed for a bachelor with its wooden interior walls, round hobbit windows, and paintings of Galileo and Leonardo da Vinci hanging around the room next to his awards and medals. There was no mess.

  She followed him inside as he quickly skirted around it to get to an elegant bathroom with black marbled walls and mirrors everywhere. Not even her living room at home was so big. The jet bath was to the side with three steps leading up to it, and Jett was right. The setup was incredible—even the view outside showed the lake glittering with color as the distance swallowed up the last of the sun. Jett didn’t draw the chunky mahogany blinds, so she sat on the edge of the window, admiring the sunset while Jett turned on the water.

  Huxley gave out a whimpering sigh. She hugged the animal around his neck, getting mud all over her workout shirt. “What are you complaining about, you spoiled dog?”

  “He doesn’t like smelling like rose and lavender,” Jett said.

  She laughed into his fur. She liked the sound of that.

  A knock on the door was followed by another staff member bringing in the bath salts, smiling broadly. Apparently, Veronica couldn’t stand the sight of Jett with Hannah and sent someone else to do the deed. Judging by his knowing looks, word had spread that Jett had been holding her hand.

  Jett sprinkled the lavender-smelling bath salt over the quickly rising water, and then he reached for the dog. “Okay, buddy, let’s go.”

  Huxley dug in his heels, and Jett took out the spray nozzle to sneak up on the dog that way, but Huxley was on to him. As soon as Jett sprayed, the dog scurried out of the way and Jett got Hannah full in the face. She shrieked out in laughter, holding her hands up. “This is dangerous!” she shouted.

  A low chuckle rumbled in Jett’s throat. “Sorry, Hannah. Maybe if you, uh …”

  He reached for her, and thinking he was going to help her, she didn’t duck out of the way. That was a mistake. His hand knocked her off her perch by the window, and she fell straight into the warm water with a splash. Lavender-scented bubbles spilled down her face, and she pushed back her wet hair as she came out.

  He let out a startled yelp. “Okay, uh, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  She met Jett’s eyes. He was trying not to laugh, even as his face sobered at the look of her. He knelt next to the tub and pushed her hair away from her face, pulling her closer. She thought he’d help her out of the tub, but he was back to kissing her again. And goodness gracious, she returned them with a fervor she hadn’t dreamed possible. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but she strangled those thoughts with the desire of being with him. She loved everything about Jett: his strong will to succeed, his curiosity for life, and his fierce loyalty.

  After all, it wasn’t like he’d need a physical therapist forever, so that would put them on equal footing once she left here and lived with her aunt again. Yes, things were looking up. This could really work! Why not enjoy this moment of falling in love with him?

  Her hand slid down his muscular shoulder, and choking back a laugh, she sat back on her heels, her gaze swerving to the sheepish dog next to Jett. This time she grabbed his collar and wouldn’t let go. “All right! In you go, Huxley.”

  Jett let out a surprised sound. “You’re going to let the dog in with you?”

  “Why not? We can all fit in here. If you fall in too, I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”

  Jett shrugged and wrestled the dog into the tub with Hannah. Oh my! It was a bit of a tight squeeze. She got out the soap and lathered it all over Huxley’s head, kneading it in with her fingers until Huxley was all lathered up. She supposed she looked odd herself with soap up to her elbows and knees and … well, everywhere!

  Jett kept stealing looks at her while the dog barked and jumped under her grip. “You’re covered in bubbles,” he said.

  She wiped some of the froth off the dog’s head and smeared it onto Jett’s rough cheek. “Now you are too.”

  “Not quite,” he said.

  No, he wasn’t. This time she reached for him. To her surprise, he didn’t scramble away. Taking the joke as far as it would go, she threw her arms around his neck, getting white froth all over the front of his gray T-shirt, then over his collar, as his sinewy arms slipped around her waist and he tightened his grip on her.

  “Oh, you’re slippery,” he said.

  She wasn’t going to faze him, was she? “You haven’t tried the jet tub yet?” she asked. Hannah tugged to make him fall in with her, but the man was a rock. He ended up dragging her out instead so that she fell into his lap. Huxley let out a yelp, and Jett took the dog’s collar to stop him from joining them. Hannah felt breathless at Jett’s strength. He proceeded to make her even more so with his lips on hers.

  His hands ran down her side as he pulled back to study her face. “So, about that birthday tomorrow—I want to take you out.”

  She ducked her head, smiling. “We don’t have time for birthdays. The climbing wall will be up tomorrow, and I’ve got to get you ready for the HeatWave.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Okay, but after the workout, I want to take you out into the town and do something proper.”

  She bit her lip. Ryan’s crashed car might mean he’d given up and left her alone, but she couldn’t be sure yet. “How about we do a night inside? You can bake me a cake.”

  “Hmm.” He considered it. “That’s a step up, but … don’t you want to do something different than hanging out at the house with me?”

  “No.” She kissed his cheek and then his mouth, long and tenderly, before resting her head against his shoulder. “I like hanging out with you. It won’t be too long before you won’t need me anymore and I’ll need to go to …”

  He cut her words off. “I’ll always need you.”

  Did he mean that? She lifted her head and studied his fierce expression, even as he held her closer, his hands slipping through the soap over her shirt. “But eventually …”

  “You can’t go,” he said stubbornly. “I’ll find something for you to do, even if it’s just bathing Huxley. So you see—” He winked at her. “—we have plenty of time.”

  She laughed and touched the stubble on his chin. “Let’s get this soap off, and then we can talk birthdays.”

  He kissed her again; then she stepped back as he sprayed Huxley down. He got Hannah next.

  She gasped at the warm blast. That was a little more water than necessary. “Jett!” She protected her face. “I’ll get you back for that.” She poked him in the stomach, and she felt it suck in at his laugh.

  They still had plenty of time to get revenge. She wasn’t sure how serious he was about keeping her employed after the HeatWave. Now that their relationship had developed into something more, it didn’t seem right, but she’d worry about that after the climbing event. Jett depended on her to get him ready for the big day. She wasn’t letting anything stop that, not even her feelings for him. She stepped out of the tub, ready to get into dry clothes.

  Jett stopped her before she could. “Hey, how about a movie and some takeout?” His hand ran down the back of her wet shirt.

  She leaned into him, surprised at how natural this all felt. “Only if you promise not to talk about my bir
thday, Mr. Eastwood.”

  He tilted his head, and she squeezed his hand and escaped to get dressed in dry clothes before he could press her any more about it. Her smile threatened to burst out of her cheeks as she thought over everything that had happened between her and Jett. She wanted to hug herself in her excitement. This was the connection that she’d always searched for—he was so sweet and thoughtful. It was so wonderful and strange that it had happened when she’d hit the lowest point in her life.

  She’d almost reached her room when Veronica caught her in the hall. “Hannah.” Her voice sounded harsh, like dry leaves crunching behind her. “You’ve had such an exciting day. I’m sorry to see such a nice girl like you attract so much trouble.”

  Hannah swung around. Was Veronica talking about her getting together with Jett? “You’re sorry?”

  “Well, Sheriff Price finding your ID in that crashed car,” Veronica clarified. She took a deep breath. Her usually stern face softened into an expression that actually seemed human. “I’m glad that the vehicle didn’t belong to anyone you knew. I heard the sheriff talking on his way out. He suspects foul play. How horrible if someone you knew was murdered in cold blood like that.”

  Hannah gulped, but had nothing to say. Ryan had been a monster, but she never wished for him to die.

  “It’s interesting that your purse was stolen and you didn’t notice that you’d lost your ID,” Veronica said. “Did this happen barely?”

  “Yes, a few days before I came to work here.”

  “Well, you had such a beautiful cheetah-print purse on your first day here.” Almost instantly, Veronica dropped the friendly chatter, and her eyes narrowed. “How many purses do you have?”

  Hannah choked over her answer. Veronica had been baiting her to get her to say more than she should, and Hannah had completely fallen for it. Why had she trusted her? Hannah didn’t answer, only shoved through the door into her tower room, finally understanding what Ryan’s untimely disappearance meant for her. The police might try to connect it to her. And if they found his body, what would happen then?

  Her worries ate at her. Ryan had promised he’d take her down if she tried to escape him. He’d tried to frame her for getting into the drugs at work, even hinted that her father’s death was her fault—as if she’d ever deal drugs. But what sort of evidence had he gathered that others might find?

  She sank onto her bed. Wouldn’t it be insane after all Ryan’s threats that he’d get her for his murder instead? If he left behind anything else to link her to the accident, then the police might think she had a motive for killing him. She buried her face in her hands. He’d never let her go, even after death.

  Oh, Jett! Would he believe her? Her hands went to her stomach next as if she could keep her fear from exploding free. The warmth that had filled her heart from his generous embraces was replaced with hopelessness. She never should’ve let Jett get through her defenses, but he’d been so caring and open—everything Ryan had never been. Would Jett suffer more pain because he’d gotten so close to her? Ryan wasn’t through with her yet; news of his crashed car had intruded uncomfortably into her life. Whether he was dead or alive, she’d never be free.

  Hopeless tears leaked from her eyes. She couldn’t stop them from falling. No, no—she was losing so much more than her freedom. She’d given almost everything away to Ryan, but please, not Jett. Please, God, spare me one thing of my own. Hannah lost all desire to eat dinner or watch movies or pretend everything was okay. She couldn’t pretend with Jett anymore. He’d see her red eyes. He noticed everything about her. He’d ask questions.

  She pushed a button to the side of the table. Veronica answered brusquely. That cold lady kept her radio on her at all times. “Yes?”

  “Can you tell Jett that I can’t make it tonight? I—I …” Why hadn’t she thought of an excuse? “I need to rest for climbing tomorrow. I’ll make it up to him.” Probably not. She hung up and collapsed against her bed, where the memory of Jett’s kisses tormented her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jett watched his sweet girl—he couldn’t help thinking of Hannah like that. He had kissed every inch of those beautiful red lips that now trembled. Something had stopped her last night from coming to him. What was she hiding?

  She marched through the gym in her workout clothes. He caught her easily and pulled her close, hoping that was still okay. She smiled tensely.

  He brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Hannah?”

  Her worried eyes darted to his.

  “Happy birthday.”

  She let out a light laugh that carried too much stress. That was it—he’d do everything to figure out what was happening with her. She couldn’t live like this.

  Hannah slid away from him, and he got to work. Today they were climbing on the new rock wall he’d designed out of the already-existing granite hillside near the lake. Landscapers had also put their touch to the manmade wonder with a lush garden all around and a waterfall. He’d asked specifically for the waterfall since that was the thing that made his Spiider Sleeve malfunction before.

  He quickly switched out his sheer wall attachment for the walking one, basically swapping out one shin for another. Hannah watched with fascination, reaching out every once in a while to guide the process like she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t fight her, welcoming the excuse of her touch while he watched her face for any sign that she wanted to confide in him.

  Hannah pressed her lips firmly together as she attached a netting pocket next to his thigh, where he stowed his extra attachments and climbing gear. Maybe growing so dependent on her was unhealthy, but he couldn’t imagine his life without her; he’d beg her to marry him if that was what it took to keep her here.

  As soon as they were both satisfied that they’d packed all their gear, they headed outside into a beautiful July day. The temperatures would quickly hike into the ’90s. The hotter, the better. The HeatWave was a scorcher, and it was best to practice in painful conditions.

  They walked easily side by side, his stride even and smooth, mostly due to her. The worried glances she stole his way told him that she had no idea how important she was. He’d prove to her how much she meant to him after this was over.

  The bubbling sound of the homemade waterfall greeted his ears moments before he saw the manmade structure. It was nothing to El Cap, but it was the closest he’d gotten to a mountain after the accident. His fingers itched to jam into the cracks and feel the smooth granite. He slid the soft powder through his hands, staring up at the highest part of the wall where the sky peeked out. He’d purposely designed the wall with every type of terrain so that he could try out all of his leg attachments.

  Hannah tugged out the rope, getting ready to belay him. Though he had the advantage of his Spiider Sleeve, he opted for the extra security just in case anything went wrong, which was very likely. He found a flat rock to sit on and changed out his walking attachment for one that would let him scramble over rock. This was going to be a lot of fun.

  As soon as it was on, he approached the wall. “Put lots of slack on the rope,” he called out to her.

  Her eyes crinkled up at the sides. He knew she had no intention of cutting him loose. She was no Harry. Maybe that was for the best.

  Advancing on the wall, he rolled his shoulders back and set his fingers against the rock, sniffing the scent of granite and studying the nicks and curves for possible handholds, though most of his grip would come from his Spiider Sleeve and leg attachment.

  Taking a deep breath, he centered himself, his heart racing. He wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t terrified. He’d done this on his indoor wall, but the fresh air blowing through his hair and the sounds of birds brought everything back from the day of the accident. He accepted the fear and embraced it.

  Pushing into the wall, he dragged himself up by the arm without the Spiider Sleeve. Then he dug the toe of his sound leg into the rock first. It was go time. He flexed what would be the muscles at his thigh, and the claws
sprang out from his knee and gripped into the wall. He let that leg attachment support most of his weight while he shot up the wall like he was on the wings of a sprite.

  Hannah let out a little gasp beneath him. He’d practiced this indoors, but the experience was completely different out in the open. He had the strength and dexterity of a wild animal. His heart raced. After being trapped for so long by his missing leg, he felt freer than he’d felt in a long time.

  “Hook onto an anchor up there!” Hannah shouted down from below.

  He did it quickly, tying in so that she could keep hold of him. Even though she was a lightweight, she could easily keep him upright if something went wrong. The trust between climber and belayer had to be unbreakable, and he’d grown to trust her these past few weeks. Everything he’d worked for had culminated to this moment.

  It was time to take some chances. Excitement pulsed through him. The daredevil he’d been before, the one he’d been exiled to a chair, finally broke free. He saw the narrow ledge above him, pushed his claws into the wall, and sprang for it.

  He caught the ledge. Easily. He breathed out. Glancing down below him, he saw that Hannah looked a little more flushed than usual. He felt bad that she was terrified, but she shouldn’t be. Somehow his instincts were kicking in. Even before he could think how to move, his body knew what to do, as effortlessly as the claws had retracted when the sheriff had come. What tool could do that?

  Energy burst through him at the endless possibilities. Not only could people with amputated limbs use this, but extreme climbers could attach sensors to their muscles and get the same effect. It was an entirely new form of transportation, an entirely new sport, even. The more hands that got a hold of his invention, the more accessible and cheaper they would be for those who truly needed them.

  The wall above him was split into a huge crack, and he decided he’d need the grip of an ape to navigate that. Using his Spiider sleeve to anchor him to the wall, he reached down and switched out the attachment. Working off the lower part of his leg was by far the hardest part of this—only because of the balance needed—but as soon as he got the new one on, he jammed first his fingers into the crack in the wall, followed by his attachment. Normally, he’d depend entirely on the strength of his knuckles and fingers to get through it, but he now had the advantage of a third limb.

 

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