The Secret: A billionaire romance

by Harper Lauren

  “This is really something,” I said softly.

  “The reviews for the pappardelle are insane,” Jordan said. He leaned in close and I got another whiff of his musky, sexy cologne. “Do you like duck?”

  I frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it, to be honest,” I said. I laughed nervously. “I’m not much of a cook. Jenna and I get takeout…well, way too often.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a good cheeseburger,” he said. “But Italian food is so sensual.” He locked eyes with me and my stomach did a nervous somersault. “Don’t you think?”

  The only Italian food I’d ever eaten was spaghetti from the box and jarred marinara sauce, but there was no way I’d admit that to Jordan.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Definitely.”

  Just as I was beginning to feel more comfortable with Jordan, a uniformed man appeared at the side of the table with a bottle of dark red wine.

  “Sir, would you like a taste before I pour?”

  Jordan shook his head. He smirked. “I trust you,” he said with a smooth arrogance. “What do you think, Laci? Do we trust him?”

  I flushed. There was something about the way Jordan spoke that left me feeling on edge. I couldn’t explain it – it was like he somehow had the power to look inside my brain and see exactly how I was feeling. I’d never experienced anything like it, not even with Jenna or a good friend like Taylor.

  “Yes,” I said primly. “We trust him.”

  The sommelier poured two full glasses of the red wine and left the bottle on the table, wrapped in a linen napkin.

  “This is their house wine,” Jordan explained. “The reviews said they source it from a vineyard in Naples owned by a relative of the head chef.”

  I smiled. “That’s so cool,” I said.

  Jordan smirked. “Well, it’s only cool if the wine is good,” he said. Lifting his glass in the air, he cocked his head to the side. “Should we toast?”

  “Yes,” I said. I clinked my glass against his. “To…”

  “Having a first date with the woman of my dreams,” Jordan said. He raised an eyebrow at me and winked and I flushed again.

  This is so embarrassing, I thought as I took a sip of the delicious, heady wine. If I’m already acting like a blushing schoolgirl without having had anything to drink, how bad am I going to get?

  “To first dates,” I echoed, too embarrassed to say what I really felt.

  Jordan closed his sensual eyes and made a soft purring sound as he drank. It was sensual, watching him enjoy an exotic pleasure. I closed my eyes and took another sip of my own wine, savoring the different notes as they played across my tongue.

  When I opened my eyes, Jordan was staring at me with an amused smirk on his face.

  “I never would’ve taken you for such a wine lover,” Jordan said. He grinned. “Just yet another thing to prove that you’re absolutely perfect.”

  “I’m not perfect,” I said. “And I like wine.”

  Jordan grinned. “We’ll have to see about that,” he replied. “What else do you like, Laci?”

  Besides you? I thought, biting my lower lip. “I love teaching,” I said honestly. “I have so much passion for my job and my students. Just knowing I help them is enough to get me through even the worst days.”

  Jordan nodded. “I like that,” he said. “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure. My parents died when I was so young – I was only eighteen – that I didn’t really feel that I had a lot of wiggle room, you know? I knew I had to do something that would give me a guaranteed job and stability after college. I knew I’d have to take care of Jenna, since she was still a kid then, and teachers get summers off.”

  Jordan was nodding as I spoke. “You’re really smart,” he said quietly. “And you’re really dedicated to your sister. I like that.”

  I nodded. “Of course,” I said. “I’d do anything in the world for Jenna. She knows that, too,” I added, rolling my eyes. “She actually thinks I’m starting to loosen up. Maybe you’re a good influence on me.”

  Jordan smirked. “Then I see no reason why we shouldn’t keep seeing each other.” He reached across the table and took my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of my skin. “What do you think?”

  I flushed hotly. “I’d like that,” I said quietly. “I really would.”

  A waiter appeared at the side of the table with a basket of freshly baked bread that smelled heavenly – like garlic and herbs and olive oil. He set it down and looked at Jordan.

  “Are we ready to order?”

  Jordan looked at me. “Laci, what do you think?”

  “I haven’t even looked at the menu,” I said, feeling helpless. In all my time spent entranced with Jordan, I hadn’t even thought about food. But the steaming bread in front of me smelled mouthwateringly good, and suddenly I realized how hungry I was.

  Jordan gave me an intense look. “Are you feeling adventurous?”

  I nodded.

  Jordan turned to the waiter. “My date will have the veal carbonara, and I’ll have the pappardelle with lamb ragu,” he said.

  “Very good, sir,” the waiter said. He scribbled down Jordan’s order on his pad and darted away.

  “I know everything on the menu will be good,” Jordan said. “And this way, we can share – if you don’t like yours, you can have mine.”

  I took a piece of bread and tore it apart in my hands, taking a delicate bite. “I’m sure it will be good,” I said softly. “This place is incredible.”

  Jordan looked smug as he glanced around. “It is,” he said. “I’m glad I waited to come until I met someone who was worthy of my company.”

  Between the delicious, heady wine and the soft, fragrant bread, I was starting to feel like I was in heaven. There was no way this was real life. Guys like Jordan West didn’t even look at girls like me…much less call them perfect and spend hundreds of dollars wooing them over fancy Italian meals. I discreetly pinched myself under the table to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

  “Laci?”

  “Yeah?” I looked up. Jordan was grinning boyishly.

  “I’m having a really great time with you.”

  “Me, too,” I said quietly. “Thank you for asking me out.” I sighed. “You know, after the first time we met when…well, when you saved me, I really regretted not giving you my number.”

  Jordan’s grin changed from boyish to roguish. “Oh yeah? I was hoping you felt that way,” he said. “Because I sure as hell couldn’t stop thinking about you after I made sure you got home safely. I was going to send flowers if I didn’t see you again in a few days.”

  “Did you always live in Boston?” I asked. “You seem like such a natural fit with the city.”

  Jordan shook his head. “No. I grew up here…but I spent a lot of time away.”

  Before I could ask just what Jordan meant, two steaming dishes of food were placed right under our noses. The smell was heavenly – I licked my lips so I wouldn’t start drooling over the table.

  “Looks fantastic,” Jordan said. I couldn’t help but notice the slight trace of relief in his voice. “What do you think?”

  “Amazing,” I agreed. “I think this is going to be perfect.”

  Jordan and I didn’t talk as much while we ate. We didn’t need to – we were in a perfect little cocoon of incredible food and wine. I felt like I’d known Jordan for years as we made the occasional joke or comment. And just as Jordan had predicted, my food was excellent. Before I even knew it, I was sopping up the rest of my red sauce with the remnants of the bread basket. My stomach felt full – almost to the bursting point – but I was sated and happy.

  “I can tell you hated it,” Jordan said with a smug look.

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah, it was totally awful,” I said, shaking my head. “It was actually like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Just don’t ask me to walk anywhere…or do much but waddle home.”

  Jordan laughed. “Noted
,” he replied. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers with mine, squeezing my palm against his. “So, I guess you’re not in the mood for a walk? The weather is beautiful.”

  I groaned. “Oh, god, don’t even say that,” I replied. “I think you’d have to roll me back home.”

  Jordan laughed again. “Well, too bad,” he said. He winked mischievously. “Because I have another idea.”

  “Oh yeah?” I giggled nervously. “Please, whatever it is, don’t let it be dessert.”

  Jordan shook his head.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  Jordan shook his head. “Nope. You’re just gonna have to wait a few minutes.”

  I pouted, but leaned back contentedly as Jordan handed the waiter his platinum credit card. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the bill, but I somehow guessed that our lavish Italian meal had cost over one thousand dollars. I felt extravagant and a little self-conscious that someone I barely knew had spent so much money on me…but it also felt good, knowing that Jordan had wanted to make such a gesture.

  When we stepped outside, Jordan pulled me into his arms and pressed his lips to mine. It was our first real kiss and I melted against his muscular body, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. Jordan groaned as he slipped his tongue into my mouth and when I felt his teeth nibbling my lower lip, I shivered with pleasure. Jordan raked his hands through my hair, gently tugging at my scalp until pleasure raced through my body. He wedged a massive thigh in between my legs and shoved it against my crotch. It felt so good that I gasped and pulled away, arching my back.

  “God, I could take you right here,” Jordan growled. He kissed me again, more gently this time, and I cuddled up against him. As he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, I opened my eyes and saw a horse-drawn carriage waiting for us in the middle of the street.

  “Is this for us?”

  Jordan smirked. “If you don’t think it’s too corny,” he said. “I thought it would be fun. All this time I’ve spent in Boston and I’ve never done this before.”

  A grin spread across my face. “That sounds awesome,” I said. “I’ve never done anything like this, either.”

  A small crowd watched as Jordan and I climbed into the back of the carriage. Jordan passed the driver a wad of bills and a few seconds later, the carriage began to roll forward. It felt special and strange – almost magical – to ride through the Boston streets pulled by a horse.

  “Okay, now I really feel like a tourist,” I said, nuzzling Jordan’s neck and kissing the side of his jaw. His stubble tickled my lips and a hot rush of warmth flooded my body as I thought of how it would feel for his stubble to brush against my most intimate places.

  “Me, too,” Jordan said. He grinned at me, then kissed me slowly. Unlike on the pavement, this was a soft, passionate kiss. He tasted of wine and rich Italian food, and as we kissed, the scent of his cologne washed over me. I want to sleep with one of his shirts, anything that smells like him, I thought as our kiss grew deeper. Our tongues danced together in a passionate rhythm of love and I moaned softly as Jordan pulled away after licking my lips.

  “So,” Jordan growled in a low voice. “Feel like coming home with me? I’ve got some dessert in my fridge,” he added quietly, running a finger down my bare arm. “We could even take it into bed with us.”

  I blushed. The truth was, in fact, that I desperately wanted to sleep with Jordan. But I was a virgin – how would he take that news? And despite the fact that I’d had a wonderful time with him, I knew it was a common mistake to sleep with a man on the first date. Taylor had always told me to make a man wait at least three dates, and while that number seemed kind of arbitrary and pointless to me, I was sure that she probably knew much better than I.

  “I don’t think I should,” I said regretfully. “This was our first date, after all.”

  Jordan chuckled. “If you’re worried about ruining things, don’t, Laci,” he said. “It’s not like I’m going to change my mind about you just because we’ve only gone out once.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed. “I really want to,” I said quietly. “I just…”

  Jordan put his hand over my mouth. “Don’t,” he said. “Look, Laci – one thing you should know about me is that I don’t judge. I’ve been through a lot of things in life, and it would be cruel for me to judge you. You have your beliefs, and I have mine.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  Jordan grinned. “Not a problem, beautiful,” he said. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything,” I said softly.

  “You’ll go out with me next week,” Jordan said. There was a trace of that steel in his voice, almost like back in the restaurant when he’d spoken to the hostess. It almost frightened me, but I couldn’t deny that it was both intriguing and incredibly sexy.

  “Of course, I will,” I said. “Just name the date.”

  Jordan grinned. “I will, beautiful,” he said. “And I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Five

  Jordan

  After my perfect first date with Laci, I was tempted to tell her everything. Sit her down and tell her the whole, awful truth. But as much as I wanted to be completely transparent and open with her, I knew I couldn’t – not yet. If she knew even a hint of what my sordid past contained, she’d be running for Logan Airport before I could even finish my sentence.

  There was no way I could be truthful with Laci about my past.

  But I wasn’t going to worry about that, at least, not just yet. First, I had bigger issues to deal with.

  When she’d asked me at the Italian restaurant if I’d been looking for her, I’d lied. Of course, I’d wanted to see her again…more than other people would have thought possible. But I hadn’t been haunting that section of Boston to see her gorgeous face.

  I’d been looking for Leo McKinney – the man who’d assaulted Laci. The man who, at one horrible point in my life, had been a close friend of mine.

  I kept going back to that neighborhood, looking for Leo. I had to know what he was doing…and why he was still doing it. After all, if I was able to turn my life around, I felt fully confident that others should be able to do the same.

  But after a week of searching, it became glaringly obvious that I wouldn’t have such an easy time tracking Leo down. So, I called Ken and asked to meet him for lunch at a cheap cafeteria in the same neighborhood.

  When Ken arrived, I could tell he was suspicious.

  “West, what the hell are you doing in a place like this,” Ken asked with a frown as he lowered himself into the grimy, plastic booth. “You know I don’t like seeing you in these bad parts.”

  “I’m looking for someone,” I said. “An old…well, someone I used to know.”

  Ken gave me a deeply concerned look. “I’m not going to lie,” he said. “I don’t like that idea, Jordan. Not one bit – you remember everything you learned, don’t you?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That’s insulting,” I replied. “You know I wouldn’t give up my life now. I’ve got everything.”

  “Look, I’m just doing my job,” Ken replied. He wrapped his hands around a cheap ceramic mug of coffee and lifted it to his lips. “And part of that job is to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m not in trouble anymore,” I said angrily. “And I’m worried about Leo. He was always in a bad way, and this could be the beginning of the end for him. If he kills someone – or god forbid, something even worse – I’ll feel responsible.”

  Ken gave me a strange look. “You’re a lot of things, West, but I never thought you’d take to vigilantism.”

  “It’s not vigilantism,” I said. “Don’t you understand? If you knew someone was struggling – with addiction, or threats – wouldn’t you want to help them get back on their feet? Fuck, why the hell did you become a parole officer if you don’t feel that way?”

  Ken sighed. “You’re twisting my words,” he said.

  “Well, have you seen anything?” I prodded. “Because
I’d really like to get Leo help. Or see him put behind bars for good, if he tries anything else.”

  “What did you see?” Ken asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied. I knew I could be held legally responsible for assaulting Leo and leaving him in the alley…but what the hell should I have done instead? Run away with Laci and leave Leo capable to assault another woman? I’d had no choice – and deep down, I was sure Ken would agree with me.

  Ken looked suspicious, but he didn’t ask any more questions. After I paid for our lunch, I took a long walk by the waterfront, wondering what would happen. It was very troubling. I couldn’t keep Laci in the dark forever, especially not with the whole Leo McKinney situation, but neither could I say a goddamned word until Leo had been apprehended.

  In the next few days, I spent my time stalking the bad neighborhoods, keeping an eye out. Despite my expensive clothing and shoes, men still got out of the way when they saw me coming. It was funny – I’d turned my entire life around, and yet people could tell with a mere glance that I was a dangerous man. Maybe it was the way I’d never stopped keeping my hair in a close-cropped prison cut, or maybe it was the look in my eyes but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that anyone with a lick of sense in their body got the fuck out of the way when they saw Jordan West coming.