Under the Millionaire's Influence

by Catherine Mann

  “You hear? You must mean you’ve been bugging my sister…. Let me guess which one.” She tapped her temple, sagging back into her pillow and wishing she’d chosen to wear at least a T-shirt to sleep last night.

  But it had been so hot and her air conditioner didn’t work well, so she’d slept naked with only a sheet that now barely covered her since she’d tangled it around her legs in her restless sleep. “My guess is you went for Ashley since she was probably softened up from that thoughtful gift you gave her.”

  “Nope. Wrong guess. You lose the prize.”

  Her hand slid restlessly over her bare stomach, her skin over-sensitized. “If you’re the prize then—”

  “All right,” he interrupted with a low laugh, “no need to get spiteful.”

  She stroked her fingers over her stomach in a light touch, back and forth, higher every time. “I thought we were bantering.”

  That stopped him short. His breathing went heavier on the other end of the line. “Bantering, huh?”

  She hadn’t meant to show her hand that fast. Verbally backtracking, she rushed to speak, her hand stalling just below her breasts. “So Claire sold me out.”

  “Claire let me know you’ve worked the past three weeks without a day off.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right. And somehow I managed to find out anyway.”

  Starr rolled to her side, gathering a pillow against her chest in counter-pressure against the ache begging for fulfillment. “I imagine that’s a great skill in your line of work, prying information out of people.”

  “Who said I needed to pry it out her? Maybe she thinks you and I have some things to talk about.” His voice went low and intimate.

  With the tenor of his voice now, just talking could well send her over the edge.

  “Just talking? That would be a first for the two of us.” Even though simply the sound of his voice turned her on, there was still some truth to the fact that they had spent precious little time conversing.

  “Unless you’re afraid to be alone with me.”

  Was she? She hadn’t considered a confrontation with him after her realization that this attraction for him wasn’t going away after all. But now that she knew that simple truth, maybe it was time to put everything out in the open.

  God, this was scarier than she’d expected. It was one thing to think about the fact that she still harbored some kind of unresolved feelings for David. It was quite another to come outright and make herself vulnerable by telling him.

  Her gaze strayed to her window, gauzy sheers puffy with gusts from the inefficient air conditioner. The beach stretched with RVs, reminding her of their differences. But she’d grown beyond her upbringing. Right? Made something of herself.

  Oddly enough, her parents seemed to be awake unusually early today, as well. Their front door swung open, Frederick stepping out in his jeans shorts and a Grateful Dead T-shirt.

  Then he held his hand out to help a woman leave.

  David’s mother.

  Starr shot up straight in her bed. What in the world was she doing there? Gita followed. Starr sagged back against the headboard. Old Alice must be lodging her complaints early these days.

  Starr punched her pillow, the air growing chilly without the least help from any decrepit AC.

  She measured her words with the same care she put into mixing her paints to achieve just the right hue. “We have a problem that appears to be mutual. We don’t want the same things from life, but there’s this rogue attraction between us. Since I’m not leaving my house or business, and it seems the Hamilton-Reis Historical Landmark will be there until the end of time, we will be running into each other for years to come. We have to be able to move on with our lives. We can’t be sneaking quickies at ninety years old.”

  That low and sexy laugh of his caressed through the phone lines and over her again. “I bet you’ll still be hot as hell.”

  She couldn’t contain her laughter in return, or the arousal their camaraderie brought. She squeezed her legs together against the tender ache and answered, “And you’ll still be full of it.”

  “Don’t doubt your appeal.”

  In that moment she felt the wide chasm of impossibility. “How are we going to put this past us once and for all?”

  “That’s what you want?”

  “Yes,” she lied to herself—and to him—again. “Don’t you?”

  “Of course I want the same thing you do,” he answered in that damned evasive way of his that drove her crazy. “Will you trust me and let’s try something we’ve never tried before?”

  The possibilities shimmered through her until she couldn’t keep her hand from traveling up to cup her breast so heavy and hungry from wanting him. But her own touch wasn’t enough. She couldn’t evade the truth. She needed him right now at least, consequences be damned.

  “Okay. What’s your new idea for us try out, David?”

  Six

  “D avid, are you going to tell me where we are going before we actually get there?”

  Behind the wheel of his Lexus, David kept his eyes on the road, a much safer place to look than at the woman beside him. Soon enough he would have plenty of time to stare at her nonstop.

  This outing had taken some fast maneuvering, but he’d come up with a plan he thought would entrance her. He’d also left the house well guarded through his connections at the Charleston Police Department, plus some privately hired guards. He had a good line on a possible debit-card snitching scam the Ciminos may have tried to run in Dallas, Texas, malls.

  With luck, he could at least get the cops to arrest them and bring them up on charges. They might well get away with only community service and a fine, but he hoped the threat would be enough to let them know he meant business. Then they would stay the hell away from Charleston in the future.

  It had been a near thing getting Starr to leave once they’d seen Frederick Cimino standing out front with his hand painted sign: two for one omelet special. The older man had vowed he’d only wanted to help—and make a little money if they didn’t mind sharing a small percentage.

  Claire in full fury stomping down the front steps had been enough to scare five Fredericks. Starr had reluctantly left once her father cracked the sign over his knee and made tracks back for the RV beach cabana.

  Meanwhile, David could focus his attention on Starr for the next two days. It struck him how they’d spent a large part of their relationship trying to find time alone. Luckily, he had far more resources at his disposal than during his teen years. “Where do you want to go?”

  When she didn’t answer him, he glanced away from the road over to her sitting in the passenger seat in her low-slung skirt and double tank tops. The noonday sun shone through the window, glinting off the shell necklace that drew his attention to places he could linger for longer than was safe while driving.

  She toyed with the larger shell dangling at the center of the necklace, between her breasts. “Don’t you have a plan?”

  He dragged his attention back to the highway. “Of course I do, but if you have a preference, I’m always open to suggestion.”

  “I think for now, I’ll see what you have in mind.”

  Starr giving over control so easily? That was rare. They usually played tug-of-war for a while, but he wouldn’t question the victory, although the tussle was sometimes fun. Or rather the making-up had often been mind blowing.

  He knew full well odds were strong that they would end up in bed together during these next couple of days. He’d come prepared. But he’d made reservations for two rooms just in case. The choice would be hers. However, once she made it, if she decided on them being together…

  Adrenaline pulsed through him at even the thought. “I appreciate your trust. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

  He would deliver. And this time, he had something more than sex to offer her—although he hoped they would end up in bed together. Still, in watching her with her relatives, see
ing hints of that vulnerable girl she’d once been, he knew he needed to give her something more before he left.

  Last year, she’d vowed he’d given her the confidence to open her own business. Having that kind of sway over her life had made his feet itchy then. Even now, a crick started in his neck. However, he knew he wouldn’t be free to leave until he gave her one last piece he saw missing in her self-confidence—the strength to say farewell to her relatives for good.

  David pulled the car off the main highway onto a two-lane side road, leading to the small privately owned airport.

  He’d done further research on Seth Jansen and after a couple of conversations with the man, found him to be a savvy businessman with a keen entrepreneurial eye. Not to mention a helluva gut sense when it came to security. Jansen’s airport security inventions had made him a millionaire. His joint search-and-rescue venture with fellow air force pararescueman Rick DeMassi would be a real asset to the community.

  David couldn’t help but admire a guy who, even after he’d made his millions, still sought ways to give back to the world around him. The privately owned airport sported two hangars, one for Seth’s five planes to rent out—a couple of Cessna 152s used for flight training, a Cessna 172, a Cessna 182 and a twin-engine Learjet that he would be using to transport David and Starr.

  In the other hangar, he kept his planes for fun—like a World War II Corsair. Jansen had an adventurous spirit, which would work well since David needed the man to be flexible about their plans today.

  Starr twisted in her seat, pulling her sunglasses on top of her head as if to see more clearly. She tucked the glasses in place, pulling back her tangle of curls. “An airport? Uh, David, when I said I was up for whatever you had planned, I was thinking more in terms of Italian food versus Mexican food. I wasn’t envisioning actually flying to the countries.”

  He drove the car into the small parking lot, tires crunching on gravel. Shifting the vehicle into park, he turned to face her, staring back at her through his own shades.

  “Well, that would be a shame, because travel is exactly what I have in mind.”

  Starr watched David walk toward the tiny airport terminal while she waited in the running car, air-conditioning humming gently. She’d told him to go on inside without her.

  She hadn’t told him why.

  Fishing in her canvas purse stitched with shells painted to match her necklace, Starr dug out her cell phone. She punched in the numbers for her sister’s cell and waited for the pickup.

  “Claire,” she said without preamble, “I can’t believe you told David I could leave for two days. You even went so far as to pack a suitcase for me.” She double-checked to make sure David was still inside the terminal—yes—before continuing, “Are you trying to get my heart stomped?”

  It was one thing to allow herself to spend time with David, talk to him, even sleep with him again. But leave Charleston with him? Be completely and totally alone together in another state? That darn near scared her flip-flops off.

  Claire sighed on the other end of the phone with an older-sister indulgence even though she was only a few years older. “I’m trying to give you a chance to figure out this thing between the two of you once and for all, away from here, away from his mother, your relatives, even this house and your stupid belief that you’re not good enough for him.”

  “I never said that,” she replied automatically.

  “But you’ve thought it.”

  She hadn’t bought into that line of garbage, had she?

  “But what about my folks? I can’t leave you and Ashley to handle all of that.”

  “What’s to handle?” Claire asked with her usual brusque efficiency. “They’re here. They eat. Vic’s around if I have a concern. Besides, it’s you they want to bother, not me.”

  “But they’ll wonder where I went.”

  “I’ll tell them you had a conference related to the business. You left early and you send your regrets, so on and so forth, blah, blah, blah…. What do you think you can do that we can’t?”

  Starr scrunched her toes into her flip-flops and studied the tiny row of shells painted along the straps. “That’s not my point. They’re not your responsibility.”

  “Starr, am I or am I not your sister?”

  How could she even ask? “You know you are.”

  “Damn straight. I am more your relative than any of those people inside those dilapidated homes on wheels. You have done at least this much and more for me in the past. Let me give you a couple of days.”

  Starr clutched the cell phone, tears stinging her eyes. How had she gotten so lucky to land such an amazing family second go round? “Okay. You’re really too generous, but I’ll consider it if—and I do mean if— David’s plans sound like something I can handle.”

  “Just remember, he’s a man,” Claire drew the word out with wicked intensity, “not a glue gun.”

  Starr sighed. “Not funny.” But a laugh escaped anyway because it was a little funny, and then she sobered. “Promise me you’ll keep the cash-register drawer locked tight.”

  “Sister, I may be generous, but I’m not a fool.” Her ever-practical tone brokered no question on that one. “Don’t worry.”

  “But I didn’t say for sure that I’m going.”

  “Yeah, right. See you in a couple of days.”

  The phone line disconnected.

  Starr stared at her silent cell. Was she that transparent? The notion made her want to shout for David and demand that he drive her back to her carriage house pronto. But being contrary wouldn’t solve anything.

  She had decided to try and work through her residual feelings for him and here was her chance. She just needed to be brave enough to take it. Given all the hardships she’d faced as a child, she was tough. Deep down tough enough to handle anything. She needed to call on that steely spine now to see this through, for both their sakes so she could go of him once and for all…or not?

  The airport terminal door swung open. David stepped through, with the Seth at his side. Wow, David really had put some planning into this.

  She reached to turn off the car and pulled the keys free. When her feet hit the gravel and she slammed the door shut behind her, David turned toward her, his gaze holding hers for one of those long, electrified seconds that made her remember what it felt like to be a teenager. Then he turned away, said something to Seth that made him nod and head toward the hangar alone.

  David started toward her. Lord, he was hotter than the steam rising off the runway. She spent so much time avoiding the attraction, she rarely allowed herself the indulgence of simply looking at him. Today, he appeared so the wealthy Southern male heading for a golf course or on a vacation in his pressed khakis and polo shirt. But those muscles, they still caught her off guard since she’d spent much more time with the leaner teen than the adult male.

  His dark hair glinted in the afternoon sun with just a hint of brown in the black. She’d once dreamed of the babies they might have, dark-haired angels with that hint of his devilish smile.

  David stopped toe-to-toe with her, not touching. Not needing to. She felt his presence strongly enough.

  He adjusted the briefcase he carried in his hand. “I assume this means you’ve decided to go.”

  “David, where are we going?” she repeated her question from earlier.

  “Where do you want to go?” he repeated his same answer, except this time they were nose-to-nose and standing at an airport, so the possibilities were far reaching.

  And okay, growing more enticing by the moment.

  Except how could he not have a plan? That blew her away. David always had a plan. He was always in charge. He was letting her do the picking?

  Her eyebrows pinched together. “Surely you can’t mean that. Don’t you have to file a flight plan or something?”

  He held up the briefcase. “I already have a number of them worked up with Seth for a variety of options. What would you like to see? Shall we go to the lush Louisiana
plantations in Natchitoches where we can see the folk-art murals of Clementine Hunter? What about R. C. Gorman’s Navajo Gallery in Taos, New Mexico? Or maybe you prefer a trip up New England way to see the work of the eclectic sculptor Joseph Cornell.”

  How did he know of the assemblage sculptor who combined photographs and bric-a-brac, something so appealing to her own eclectic style? David had certainly done his homework in researching types that would appeal to her. Knowing he’d thought about her that much made her a little breathless.

  “What is your point, David?”

  “They’re all famous self-taught artists.”

  “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

  He stared at her and waited.

  “You want me to make a decision….” And she sensed something more. Self-taught. “Hey, not so subtle after all. I get it. I should value my art more.”

  “You said it—” he tapped her on the nose “—not me.” He pulled his keys from her hands and thumbed the button to pop the trunk. He pulled out two small suitcases, one she recognized as her own. The things Claire had packed for her.

  Hefting the suitcases and his briefcase, David strutted toward the hangar, leaving her to follow whenever she chose.

  Lean hips showcased just so in those khaki pants. His polo shirt caressed shoulders so broad and muscular she could rest her hands on them and her fingers would lie flat. He might not need to work but he kept his body and mind honed for his job, a job that offered something of value to society and she couldn’t help but admire that.

  He made sure little old ladies didn’t get scammed by people like her uncle Benny. Fewer mothers lost their diaper bags, forced to file a report while the hungry baby cried.

  Sure he dealt on a larger scale, but she thought small scale. Day to day.

  She frowned. Was that a holdover from her childhood when she could only think of surviving a day at a time? Something she could address later, because right now it sounded like a plan for the day. She would admire his cute butt and she would go with…