The Billionaire's Voice (The Sinclairs #4)

by J. S. Scott

  She was afraid, and he’d come to realize in the last few days that there were very few things Tessa couldn’t do. She was no shrinking violet, and, even though she was petite, she could nearly outrun him on the morning jogs they’d been doing since he’d arrived. They were pushing three miles at a rapid pace for aerobic exercise first, and his ass was dragging near the end of the run. Yeah, he’d kept up on his weight training, but he spent the majority of his time stressing over business and sitting in an office, and he’d made several unplanned trips to California thanks to Xander’s erratic behavior. He’d been distracted, neglecting his cardio for the last several months. Now he was paying for it.

  There was a time he could run marathon distances easily, but now a long-retired figure skater could nearly bust his balls. He wasn’t happy about that.

  Nevertheless, he had to admire Tessa’s courage. Other than her reluctance to get back on the ice, she didn’t let her lack of hearing keep her from doing anything a hearing person was able to do. She’d adapted, compensated by learning all of the skills necessary to be more than functional in a hearing world.

  He admired her; he liked her.

  Unfortunately, he still wanted to fuck her so badly that he could barely hold himself back. In fact, rather than curing his obsession, being close to her all the time was making his urgency worse. Every teasing smile she directed his way affected him and went directly to his cock. He didn’t understand his reaction. Tessa was pretty, but he’d been with an uncounted number of gorgeous females since Anna had dumped him years ago. None of them had been able to turn him inside out with only a glance. Hell, he hadn’t been this obsessed over Anna, and she’d been his girlfriend for several years, the woman he’d thought he’d end up with for the rest of his life.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “I think I’ve . . . filled out.” Tessa’s unhappy voice sounded from the entrance to the living room.

  Her words jerked Micah back into reality, and he looked up, nearly dropping the drink in his hand as he looked at her in a simple red skating skirt.

  It was unadorned, a practice outfit, with long sleeves and a very high hem that left her slender legs bare. She had definitely grown in all the right places since she’d worn it years ago. The clingy material hugged a pair of full breasts that he was itching to touch, and curves that he wanted molded against his body. Except he’d prefer her naked and begging for him to make her come, those shapely legs wrapped around him as he pounded into her until they both came unglued.

  “You look . . . fine,” he answered gruffly.

  You look like innocence and sin, sweet and sultry. You look like a goddamn elusive goddess that I need to capture and fuck before I lose my mind!

  “You don’t think it’s too tight?” She spun around, yanking at the material clinging to her body.

  He drained his glass, wishing it was something a hell of a lot stronger than gritty protein, watching her as she twirled around gracefully and tugged at the material that was lovingly hugging her curves. As he got a quick look at her shapely ass that was barely covered by the thin panties attached to the skirt, he nearly choked on the last swallow of liquid in his mouth.

  Micah coughed, trying to cover up his rampant desire to take her by her perky ponytail and bend her over the nearest object so he could find relief from the constant hard-on he was sporting. In fact, he knew, after spending a few days in her company, that he wasn’t going to get over his agitated insanity for her anytime soon.

  Maybe the only cure was just to give in and try to seduce her. He should know by now that his erection wasn’t going to go away until he was no longer enthralled by Tessa, and what he needed was to finally get bored and restless like he always did, before he could move on.

  He coughed one last time before he spoke. “We can get you something new for the performance. It looks fine. Nobody will see you.” Thank God! If any other guy started lusting after her like he was right now, which was what any guy with a pulse would do, Micah knew he’d want to choke the bastard on the spot.

  “I’ll get my skates,” she said quietly, moving back toward the bedroom.

  He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as she disappeared into the other room. Jesus! How was he going to handle being close to her for much longer without fucking her senseless?

  Was that a possessive thought he’d just had a few seconds ago? What the hell was that? He didn’t do jealousy. He’d never realized it was even in his DNA.

  Running a hand through his unruly hair, he contemplated leaving Maine, but that wasn’t happening. The pull to be with Tessa was too strong, and there was much more involved in his attraction to her. Plus, he’d promised to be there for her so that she didn’t have to face her fears alone. He wasn’t letting his uncooperative dick and his desire to nail her interfere with a vow—a pledge he hadn’t been able to keep himself from making, for some damn reason.

  The problem was . . . he actually did like her. Tessa had a quirky sense of humor that made him laugh, and a sharp mind that made him think of things other than just business and his problems with his youngest brother. Tessa deserved better than a frantic fuck. He could tell the attraction went both ways, he could feel it, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Sooner or later, he’d leave to go back to New York, and he’d already learned that he wasn’t a “relationship” kind of guy. Tessa was the type of woman that a man didn’t leave, and Micah was constantly on the go, always looking for his next adrenaline fix.

  She needs a guy who cares about her, a man who will be by her side.

  He stood, feeling antsy and irritated. Maybe Tessa needed a different sort of male in her life, but the thought of anyone except him touching her made him edgy as hell.

  Dammit! Another possessive thought?

  “I’m ready. Let’s get this over with,” Tessa said glumly as she entered the small living room again.

  Her words made him smile as he turned in her direction, an automatic action that he didn’t even think about anymore. “It won’t be so bad.” He signed as he spoke, even though he knew he didn’t need to. It was rare that she didn’t pick up enough of his words to understand him.

  “I’m going to hate you for this,” she warned.

  Her words stopped Micah in his tracks. Maybe he had pushed too damn hard. Now he was beginning to second-guess his behavior, something he never did. He knew she was teasing, but was there some truth to what she’d said?

  “Don’t hate me,” he said huskily, reaching out to tuck a stray spiral of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I think you want this, but you’re too afraid to do it alone.”

  Her eyes locked with his, and Micah froze as he saw the vulnerability in her gaze. Feeling sucker punched as he stared into her unusual light-green eyes, he again began to question his motives and his actions. He sensed that Tessa needed to do this, but he felt like a bully for forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Honestly, all he wanted to do was wrap his arms protectively around her and keep her safe. Tessa had been through so much, suffered so many losses. Yet, she was more alive than any woman he’d ever known.

  “I won’t hate you. I promise,” she answered softly, putting a hand on his forearm as he pulled his fingers away from her hair. “You’re right. This is one last ghost from my past that I need to put to rest. Believe me, I wouldn’t be trying this if part of me didn’t really want to.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, still feeling uncharacteristically uncertain.

  She nodded slowly, and Micah felt himself relax. He captured her hand in his. “Then let’s go.” Suddenly, he wanted this first step to be over just as much as Tessa did.

  “Are you sure the rink is ready?” she asked nervously as he tugged her toward the door.

  He nodded. Micah was absolutely certain the skating arena was prepared for her to practice. He’d had workers there since the day he’d arrived in Amesport. The place was in good-enough shape for them to use, and the ice had been completely repaired
so Tessa would be safe. The building might be neglected, but it was sturdy.

  He grabbed his own skates from the chair by the door as they exited the front entrance, letting go of her hand as they stepped outside and into the humid, warm air. Fall hadn’t yet arrived in Amesport, and the weather was unusually hot, the midday sun out in full force.

  He locked the door as Tessa walked to his vehicle, a large black pickup that he’d rented when he’d arrived in Maine.

  Tessa didn’t speak as they drove the short distance to the arena, which gave Micah more time than he needed to think.

  What if she gets hurt?

  He grimaced, knowing she’d have to eventually practice some risky moves that could end up with Tessa bleeding and broken on the ice. By education, he was an engineer, and he made his activities as safe as possible. His team was constantly coming up with new safety features for his equipment, which had made him the leader in the industry. Sure, he’d broken a few bones and gotten banged up more times than he could count. There was always an element of risk, certain things beyond his control, but he thrived on the excitement, and he was pretty sure of his engineering skills. His main goal was to keep improving his equipment. People like him were always going to participate in dangerous sports, but he wanted to at least decrease the risk as much as possible.

  But it’s not about me this time.

  It wasn’t him taking the risk, and that scared the hell out of him.

  Concern continued to eat at him as he parked the truck and they made their way into the old rink.

  Tessa immediately sat down on one of the wooden benches and started to haul on her skates. “I didn’t know you could skate,” she said, her glance curious now.

  He waited until she looked at him again for an answer before replying, “I played a lot of hockey as a teenager and some when I was in college.” He didn’t have the skills she used to have on ice, or the finesse, but he could hold his own at rough-and-tumble skating.

  He put on the skates he’d had his assistant send to him, in a steadily darkening mood, wishing to hell he’d never read Tessa’s mail. How had his charity found Tessa, anyway? Micah had known about the planned reunion event, but he didn’t have a clue how the organizers had tracked down past Olympic athletes. Tessa stayed far away from the media, from what she’d told him, and he doubted the committee had even known she was deaf. They only knew that she had retired, which was the story in the sports world. Nobody knew much more about her sudden retirement, and since it had been years, almost nobody cared.

  Honestly, he didn’t get that involved in the Sinclair Fund. The organization was large and had employees to deal with the day-to-day business. All of the Sinclairs gave to the Fund, and they recommended it to other businessmen, but none of them was really actively involved. It wasn’t possible since they all had busy lives.

  “I’m ready,” she said stoically as she finished lacing her second skate.

  Hastily finishing with his laces, he stood at the same time she did, following her as she stomped toward the ice. She removed the blade guards from her skates and tossed them onto a bench. “I can do this,” she whispered quietly.

  Micah’s heart sank as he watched the indecision and a flash of fear in her expression. He was so damn tempted to just haul her back to the truck and forget about the damn skating.

  Her words weren’t meant for him; she was trying to reassure herself.

  That she needed to pep-talk herself onto the ice was reason enough for Micah to call off the whole damn thing. Tessa didn’t need to prove herself to anyone.

  She stepped onto the ice quickly, so fast that he didn’t even have time to talk to her, see if she wanted to just leave. He was guessing she felt that she needed to either make a move or run back to the truck. His heart swelled as he watched her face her fear head-on.

  She started slowly, a little unsure during her first rotation around the square arena. He watched her pick up speed with more than a little apprehension, switching directions as she moved.

  Forward.

  Backward.

  Forward.

  Backward.

  He lost track of time as he stood beside the rink, his grip on the wooden, waist-high wall so strong that the blood was leaving his fingers.

  “Christ!” he rasped as he watched Tessa leap into the air in graceful splits. He gulped in a breath, not releasing the air in his lungs until she’d landed safely.

  His eyes never left her mesmerizing movements as all thoughts of skating to her rescue left his brain. She didn’t need him. She’d once been the world’s best figure skater, and she was quickly regaining her confidence. Her skills hadn’t gone anywhere. They’d just lain dormant until this very moment, and he felt pretty damn lucky just to be an observer.

  She moved as if she was going through one of her routines, substituting easier moves for some of the more complicated jumps that had likely been part of her program. Micah caught a glimpse of her face as she sped by him, her skin glowing, her expression euphoric and expressive.

  Tessa was born to perform, but the opportunity had been taken away from her too damn soon. She’d told him that she’d been training to do the next Olympics as the defending gold medalist when she’d lost her hearing. Unfortunately, she’d never had that chance to defend her title.

  Flowing back into the center of the ice, Tessa literally became a blur of movement as she started to spin faster and faster before finally coming to an abrupt stop, her beautiful body holding a graceful pose for one breathtaking moment before she lowered her arms.

  “I did it. I can do it.” She was panting as she spoke.

  Micah could hear her words from the sideline, and he wondered at the amazement in her voice. Had she been convinced that she couldn’t skate? A person didn’t lose those kinds of skills. Tessa—Theresa Sullivan—had been ice-skating since she could walk, and the training during her adolescence and young adulthood had been intense.

  He applauded as Tessa bowed elegantly, but he stopped as she dropped to her knees, her hands over her face.

  She’s crying.

  He jumped onto the ice and breached the distance between them in an instant, dropping down in front of her, completely oblivious to the freezing cold of the ice beneath his knees. “Tessa. What the hell happened?” he asked urgently even though she couldn’t hear him, trying to move her hands from her face.

  Loud, heart-wrenching sobs filled the air, and Micah felt his heart hammering in alarm. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” she wailed, her shoulders rising and falling as she continued to release her emotions. “I did it, Micah. I skated,” she answered tearfully, finally removing her hands from her face, resting them on her thighs. “I heard the music in my head. I still remember it.”

  “Of course you did, sweetheart. You were amazing,” Micah told her soothingly, fucking relieved that she wasn’t injured.

  He was taken aback as she threw herself into his arms with wild abandon and continued to cry.

  Recovering quickly, he wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her while years of uncertainty and fear were sobbed out on his shoulder.

  Micah shuddered. He might be an asshole, but there was no way he could be unmoved by watching a woman like Tessa cry like years of emotional tension were being expelled from her body, in tears of happiness and incredulous relief.

  “Thank you,” she choked out between sobs.

  He stroked her hair, knowing they were probably the two sweetest words he’d ever heard.

  CHAPTER 4

  Eventually, Tessa stopped blubbering like an idiot, but she didn’t leave the safety of Micah’s arms. Her entire body was trembling, and it had been so damn difficult to force herself to get back on the ice. But once there, she’d never felt anything more magical.

  Her body had taken over, following the sequence of movements that must have been ingrained in her psyche. It hadn’t really been necessary to think much about what she’d been doing. All she’d had to do was listen to the m
usic in her head and skate.

  She relaxed against Micah’s hard, well-defined body, savoring the feel of his powerful muscles against her softer form. The sense of connection between them made her release a contented sigh. Her world might be silent, but all the rest of her senses were on high alert.

  Micah smelled like rough, male temptation, and he felt like sensual sin. What was just a comforting hug to him was something far different for her.

  Don’t even think about it, Tessa. Micah Sinclair is just a friend.

  Finally, she pulled back to look at him. “I think I can do this. I’d need to practice the more complicated jumps, and somehow I need to know I’m matching the music in my head to the recording that’s playing, but I don’t think it’s impossible. I’ll just need to make up signals that somebody can give me from the sideline to keep me on track with the music.”

  He grinned at her, an unruly lock of hair on his forehead making him appear more carefree than she’d seen him since he’d arrived in Amesport. “Almost nothing is impossible,” he replied.

  “Maybe for you,” she answered teasingly.

  Some of the things Micah had done in the past just to prove they weren’t insurmountable feats made her heart clench. She’d watched the TV breathlessly as Micah and his well-known team of elite skydivers had performed stunts that had never been attempted before, and she’d breathed a sigh of relief as each one of them finally landed on solid ground. In his younger days, it had seemed that his sole objective had been to set world records, and many of them had still never been broken. There weren’t many crazy things that hadn’t been done in the past by one of the richest and well-known daredevils in the world: Micah Sinclair.

  He stood and pulled her up beside him. “Not for you, either,” he answered, both signing and speaking so she’d catch his words.

  Hell, he even does ASL well. Is there anything he can’t do?

  Micah had told her about the deaf friend he’d met in college, which was why he knew ASL so well. According to him, he hadn’t used the skills in years because his buddy had gotten cochlear implants and didn’t use ASL anymore. But he didn’t look rusty or hesitant. He signed confidently and with as much cockiness as he did everything else.