“I’m sure you’ll prevail,” Eddie said. “I’ve seen you in action.” He paused before adding, “How come I haven’t heard about her? Do the others know?”
“Mom knows I’m seeing her. She’ll meet everyone next weekend. Let’s talk later, Eddie. I need to check on her.”
He and Eddie had always had a unique relationship. Lex loved his brothers, but they worried too much about him. If they knew about the adventures he and his friends took, they’d round up the entire family and wait for him at the nearest resort—or worse, insist on staying in contact the entire time. Nothing was a buzz kill like staying plugged in while battling nature. Since almost all his friends had no living relatives, except Sloan, things could get awkward between them fast. So Lex had chosen to confide in Eddie just in case something went wrong. Eddie never shared that information with anyone in the family. Lex could trust his cousin with anything.
Lex checked on Jillian and then headed downstairs to Douglas’ place.
“I’m feeling better, sir. I’ll be upstairs shortly to prepare your dinner.”
Douglas’ idea of better was obviously very different from Lex’s. The man looked like shit. “No, you won’t. Rest. I insist,” he added when Douglas looked ready to argue. “I’ll order something from Eros.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had no idea what Douglas liked. “What would you like to eat?”
Douglas looked uncomfortable with their switched positions. “I should order, sir. I know your preferences.”
“I’m ordering dinner, Douglas, and that’s the end of it. Now tell me what you’d like to eat.”
Lex frowned as he walked back upstairs. He needed to pay more attention to those closest to him. He’d been with Douglas for ten years and he’d never noticed what the man ate.
Jillian slept through dinner. He tried waking her up, but she just rolled over and curled up in a fetal position. His second attempt earned him, “Go away, Alexander.”
He grinned. She only called him Alexander when annoyed. He’d kept her awake the night before, so he knew she was exhausted. Still, he worried. He ate alone, and for the first time in his adult life, Lex felt lonely.
Before heading to bed, he called Sloan.
“Still having the party on Saturday?” Lex asked.
“Moved it to Sunday. Deedee is flying back on Saturday.” “Deedee” was Sloan’s baby sister, Deidre. “Do you think you’ll still make it?”
“Maybe for a few hours,” Lex said.
“Then it’s on. Go easy on Rod on the TNO pictures. It was my fault someone followed you from Van Nuys. I mentioned you were flying in, but in my defense, I had no idea the girl draped all over Rod was a journalism student. She took the information and ran with it. Selling the story and pictures to TNO was an attempt to impress him.”
“Did it work?”
Sloan chuckled. “No. I think it gave him a reason to get rid of her. He’s sworn off women and promised to follow your M.O.”
“Which is what?”
“Do a background check on every woman before he beds them. Or in Rod’s case, after he beds them for the first time.”
Lex chuckled, but he wasn’t amused. He’d changed his M.O. with Jillian, or he would have foreseen this mess with her family before it happened. Maybe he should have had her investigated. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he was happy he hadn’t. He would have missed out on meeting her.
“Okay, Sloan. Usual time?”
“Yeah. I have a few guilty pleasures lined up, so bring your appetite.”
Lex hung up the phone and reached for his tablet. Anyone listening to their conversation would conclude they were a bunch of bored billionaires with depraved tastes. Yes, he and his seven friends worked hard and partied hard, but there was more to them than making money, women, and pitting their skills against nature’s most dangerous elements.
Bringing his appetite was Sloan’s way of saying Lex should bring his checkbook or start moving funds around. Guilty pleasure was a code for a new cause worthy of their organization, Infinitus Agendum, Latin for Infinite Agenda or limitless plan. Sloan’s parties were perfect covers for their meetings.
Infinitus Agendum had one goal—to alleviate suffering from around the world without getting political. They worked with humanitarian organizations, using the power of their checkbooks to send aid wherever it was needed. They sponsored doctors and engineers without borders, provided food and shelter after a disaster, natural or otherwise, and even funded operations when governments didn’t want to be involved.
Sloan, who worked from home and had more flexible hours, ran Infinitus. Rod’s vast media influence made sure atrocities were reported. Cade, the tech guy, made sure no hacker followed the money trail and identified them. The other four contributed more than their money too—Rake and his private satellites, Dom and his CIA connection, Aiden and his import and export business, and Lucien, another IT guru in the group. Dot-com bubble might have made these seven men wealthy, but their ingenuity had made them experts in their fields. But when it came to Infinitus, they preferred to stay in the shadows.
Lex moved funds around, turned off his tablet, and left for the bedroom. Jillian was still asleep. He crawled in bed and pulled her into his arms. He could get used to listening to her breathing.
Okay, it would take awhile, he decided an hour later. He wasn’t sure whether it was the fact that Jillian was sprawled out on top of him and his cock had a mind of its own or if he wasn’t used to a woman sleeping in his bed. And when he finally fell asleep, sniffles woke him up. Jillian was crying in her sleep again.
“It’s okay,” Lex whispered. “I’m here. I’m never letting them hurt you again.”
~*~
Jillian was alone in bed when she woke up. The drawn curtains made it impossible to tell the direction of the sun. She squinted at her watch. 11:30 a.m. No wonder she was starving. She’d slept through the night.
Whenever life threw her a curveball, she went into a catatonic state, shutting down mentally, emotionally, and physically. So she slept, only waking up to eat something, anything she could find that didn’t involve cooking—more often comfort foods—before crawling into bed again. The doctors had said she processed grief differently. Chris called it her zombie-state. He’d nursed her through a few. They never lasted more than a few days.
Fighting fatigue, Jillian sat up, angled her head, and listened for sounds, but the house was quiet. Lex was probably at work. Douglas? Who knew what he did when his boss was gone? Polished silver?
Even her jokes were not funny.
Jillian stood and stared at her reflection on the wall mirror. The T-shirt she’d borrowed from Lex’s closet reached her mid-thighs. It was decent enough. Besides, she was alone. She left the bedroom and padded to the kitchen. No one was there.
She was taking inventory of the fridge when sounds came from the living room. She looked up, expecting Douglas. Lex entered the room instead. He wore jeans and a polo T-shirt, his feet bare.
“You’re finally up,” he said, a smile tugging his lips.
It pained her to look at him. He looked so vibrant and gorgeous while her head was filled with wool and her mouth tasted funny. She looked like hell, too. All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and block out the world.
She really should take this pity-fest home. No, not home. Her brothers might be camping there. She needed a hotel with a restaurant, so she could order room service from their dessert menu.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Lex continued, closing the gap between them. “I have pancakes and sandwiches.” He stopped in front of her, tilted her chin, and studied her face. “You don’t look so good. How are you feeling?”
“Great.”
Lex chuckled. “First Douglas, then you. Go to the patio. I’ll get you something to eat. Coffee?”
“Cheetos.”
He frowned. “No.”
“Ice cream?”
“Hell no.”
“Chris would get
me ice cream,” she grumbled.
“Good thing I’m not Chris.” He clasped her shoulders and redirected her toward the living room. “You didn’t eat last night and missed breakfast this morning. You’ll eat something nutritious if I have to feed it to you.”
“Bully.”
He chuckled, the sexiness of the sound wasted on her. She was pissed at him. She dug her heels in. “I want to go home.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Then get me ice cream. Rocky road and mint chocolate chip.”
He gave an exasperated sound and scooped her up. Jillian grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. His warmth and scent engulfed her, making her feel safe and loved. Except he didn’t love her. What had he called her? An investment. The new name for a fake future wife. The urge to cry washed over her. She fought it. She hadn’t cried over what her father had said, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to cry over a fake boyfriend.
Why was he grinning? “I really don’t like you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I like you enough for the both of us. You’re adorable even when you’re being stubborn.”
She studied his face. He hadn’t shaved and looked extra sexy this morning. She wanted to rub her cheek against his, close her eyes, and burrow under his chin, and not think or feel or care about anything. The problem was he made her feel so much and care too much.
He left the house and placed her in a lounge chair by the pool. Still grinning, he planted a kiss on her lips. “Stay put,” he warned and disappeared inside the house.
What could she possibly do? Jump over the glass wall surrounding his pool and deck? He was taking care of her, just like Chris had done when her mother died and after her father sent her away. She’d hit rock bottom both times, just like now.
It was a beautiful day. Sunny and smog-free. On a good day, she would have appreciated it. Now, the scene with her father kept flashing in her head. The things he’d said, the delivery cold and calculated, still stung. She pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the ache.
“Here we go,” Lex said, stepping out of the house with a tray.
Why was he so damn cheerful? “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Because I’m spending the day with you. Come on. Eat.”
The pancakes looked amazing and the mini sandwiches were enough to feed an army, but Jillian’s taste buds had stopped working. So she shredded her pancake, sipped the coffee, and listened to Lex’s voice without hearing his words, her mind miles away, until he covered her hand.
Jillian stared at him and blinked.
“Did you hear anything I said?”
She appreciated his attempts to engage her, but her heart and head were out of the game. “I’m sorry. I really need to lie down.”
“Not yet. Try a sandwich instead of that goo.” He removed the mashed pancakes and gave her his plate with one of the sandwiches. “If you eat, I’ll get you the Cheetos and the ice cream.” He shuddered. “Nasty combination.”
She focused on him, seeing past the teasing smile to the concern in his eyes. She felt bad. He was being the perfect host. She picked up the sandwich and took a bite, then another. She finished the first one.
“Much better. Now talk to me.” He placed a second on her plate.
“About?”
“Your family.”
“I’ll pass.” That subject was still too painful.
“I meant before your mother married your stepfather.”
Her mom. How she missed her. Their earlier crazy life? Not so much. Was she ready to share the past with Lex? She’d never told anyone about New York, not even Chris. But Chris probably knew. He and her mother had become very close just before she died. He’d worked with her, too.
“What exactly do you want to know?” Jillian asked, hedging.
“Where were you born?”
“New York somewhere.” Funny she rarely thought about her childhood. Her memories of the years before the Finnegans were sketchy at best.
“How old were you when you left?” Lex sat up, his eyes not leaving her face.
He was wearing a blue polo shirt that added splashes of blue to his grays, like a cloudy day. Funny how he could be completely comfortable in tailored suits and also in casual wear. She found herself studying his toes. Sheesh, was everything about him beautiful?
“Jillian?”
Her eyes flew to his face. What were they discussing? Uh, New York. She didn’t want to talk about New York. She wanted to crawl into bed and watch a Lifetime movie and cry over someone else’s sob story.
“Our time in New York is a blur. I remember a house and a nice backyard and a man who’d visit us.” A memory flitted through her head, but she couldn’t hold on to it. She remembered her mother being happy whenever he visited and that he’d buy them stuff—food, toys, and books. She still owned some. He’d loved reading to her. How could she not remember his face?
“I attended a regular school. I was in second grade when Mom picked me up early from school and said we were going on an adventure. She’d already packed our suitcases.” It was so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. “It took us nearly three years to get to California.”
Jillian glanced at Lex. His intelligent eyes had narrowed at her confession. She wondered what he was thinking. Compared to his upbringing, hers must sound weird.
“Why three years?” he asked.
“We made several stops. Many stops.” Jillian smiled, remembering some of them. “We visited every landmark and monument in the states we passed or lived in. Mom found odd jobs and a place for us to stay for a few months. Some were great.” Memories flashed in her head. Good and bad ones. “Others not, but we had each other. After a while we’d pack up and leave again. Since she homeschooled me, we didn’t have to worry about school.”
“And your father?” Lex asked, an angry expression on his face.
Jillian didn’t want to deal with his feelings right now. Not when she was barely holding on to hers. She tried to picture the man in New York again, but the memories still eluded her. She never really gave him much thought after she became a Finnegan. Now she couldn’t help wondering if he’d been her father.
“I don’t remember one, until… Until Mom married Finnegan.” Finnegan. Her father. She didn’t want to talk anymore. “Could I have more coffee?”
When Lex disappeared into the house, Jillian closed her eyes and tried not to think of the past, but this mess with her father brought back memories. Some good. Others ugly.
At the first regular school she’d attended after arriving in L.A., a boy in her class had started a rumor that Jillian and her mother were criminals and that was why she’d been homeschooled. Jillian never learned where George Schmidt had heard such nonsense. Yes, they’d moved lot, slept in her mother’s tiny car on a few occasions, lived in dingy apartments, motels, even a trailer, but they never stole anything from anyone. Her mother had always found work. She’d been big on visual learning.
So when Georgie “Porgie” Schmidt had started that rumor, Jillian had leaped across her desk and given him a bloody nose and a split lip. Her mother had picked her up and went back to homeschooling her. That was the first time she ever shut down after an incident. Scared the crap out of her mother.
Lex returned with more coffee, his cell phone ringing in his hand. “I need to take this.” Before the door closed, she heard him say, “Lander, thanks for returning my call.”
Why was Lex calling Chris?
CHAPTER 15
Nine o’clock. Jillian stretched and smiled. She was back, thanks to Lex. He’d yanked her out of her funk with his brand of care. He’d given Douglas the weekend off and taken care of her, completely enabling her.
Cheetos.
Ice cream.
Anything she’d wanted, he’d provided. At night, he’d cradled her in his arms and not once tried to cop a feel. The man didn’t believe in sleeping in anything, which made him the perfect bedmate. She’d woken up at odd hours of the
night to find herself sprawled all over him. The fuzzy feeling she hadn’t wanted was growing fast, and she was helpless to stop it.
As for her family, Lex never brought it up again since their discussion on the deck. Instead, he’d regaled her with anecdotes about his family—from his Irish grandfather who’d headed to California and made his fortune during the gold rush, to his Great Aunt Sophia who was nearly a hundred years old.
Jillian had barely kept up with who was who in his family—his twin brothers, their spouses and kids; his sister Jade and cousins, Ashley, Faith, and Eddie and their families; his aunts and uncles and their children, and his Aunt Vivian. His Aunt Viv, as he affectionately called her, was apparently the matriarch of the Fitzgerald family and a formidable woman.
“Everyone is married with kids except you. What are you waiting for?” she’d asked.
“The best. I have discerning taste,” he’d said.
Jillian had tried not to care about his response, but now she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of woman would bring the mighty Lex to his knees. Get him to propose. Probably some blueblood with a weird name and a lineage that went back to the Founding Fathers. People tended to gravitate toward their own kind. Look at her brothers. Elena and Ginger had both worked in Vegas as showgirls.
Her brothers. She’d never think of Ricky and Cian as anything else no matter what her father had said. Just like Daniel Finnegan would always be her father.
Had her brothers gone looking for her at her place? Possibly, especially since she had destroyed her phone. They knew where she hid her spare key. Ricky would have left a note on her fridge door. The more practical Cian would have insisted on calling the police.
No, they hadn’t tried to find her. Ricky had met Lex and would have tracked him down or called Chris. The fact that they hadn’t proved that, once again, they’d let their father dictate what to do. Guess the years they’d spent together didn’t matter. The holidays and the performances. The family dinners, silly sibling fights and rivalry, then…
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