Tempted by the Billionaire: A Hometown Hero Series Novel

by Connelly, Clare

  Her cheeks flushed pink but she stared at him defiantly. “One other.”

  “I see.” That muscle flexed in his jaw again. She lifted a finger to it in wonderment.

  “And so Ashton was… your first?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He swallowed. “And the other?”

  Her lips were tight; slightly embarrassed. “A holiday fling last summer.”

  “A holiday fling?” He smiled despite the way some strange, warm emotion was pounding through him.

  “Yeah. Thom was passing through town. He was cute. I was a bit drunk.”

  He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No regrets?”

  “No.” She smiled at him, and it was such a sweetly innocent smile that he almost swore. “I mean, he was nice and everything. And I hadn’t been with anyone in a really long time.”

  Matt burst out laughing at the sincere admission. “Much like now,” he pointed out, when his amusement had subsided.

  “Yes.”

  “So I’m what? Your refresher course in sex?”

  She shook her head, and smiled at him slowly. “You’re the first man who’s ever made me feel that good.” Secretly, she wondered if he was the only man who ever would. She caught his hand and lifted it to her breast, to cover her racing heart. “Can you feel that?”

  His gut clenched as, beneath his work-roughened hand, he felt the way her body was still trying to process their incredibly intense love-making. “Yeah.”

  She bit down on her lip, her nerve endings fraying when he didn’t immediately respond. “Is that weird? I mean, I know you’re still technically married…”

  “Hey, shhh,” he kissed her shoulder, and linked his hands behind her back. “It’s not weird. I’m quiet because I’m honoured and I’m not sure how to respond. After your perfect summation of what we shared, nothing I could say would match it.” He cleared his throat. “But I felt, when we were together, that there was something incredibly right and perfect about what we were doing. That there was no shame, no nothing. It was just… good.” He grimaced at the word. “Great. It was great.”

  She nodded, and shifted a little, so that she was even nearer to him. She wanted him. Her body was alive with flames, and she wasn’t sure what, if anything, would put them out. He was a temporary fix, but they were raging beneath her skin, a little network of embers that refused to turn to ash.

  “And tomorrow?” She whispered, her whole body sensitised to his response. It weighed heavily on her minds and she needed some kind of promise. Some sort of explanation.

  His blue eyes seemed to shift with the weight of her question. He ran his hands along her back, pensively. “You tell me,” he said finally, fully aware it was a copout.

  Willow’s smile spread slowly across her face. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.” She shook her head from side to side. “And I don’t mind not knowing.”

  His grin sent little arrows of desire flicking through her. “I like you, Willow.” Hell, he liked her a lot. A lot more than he dared admit to either of them. “But I don’t want either of us rushing into anything.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest and she dropped her eyes. Why did his words hurt? She wasn’t after anything serious. Was she? She forced her features into a mask of relaxation. “Sure. I mean, your divorce is just happening now; I totally get it.”

  He nodded slowly. His divorce. Was that why he felt a tug of concern? He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, his groin straining as she nuzzled into the contact. “Meghan is in my past, Willow. And has been for a long time.” He frowned. “But I don’t want to hurt you. And that’s all I seem to do to women.” His laugh was awkward; an obvious attempt to turn a serious confession into a joke.

  “You’re not going to hurt me,” she whispered, closing her eyes and sucking in a long, slow breath of air as she relaxed in his arms. “I just know it.”

  Matt’s gut filled with strange emotions; feelings he couldn’t understand or translate. He moved himself to her entrance and took possession of her again, showing her with his body what he couldn’t find words to say.

  They fit together so perfectly. He hated that he’d have to leave her. That he’d have to leave her soon, to pick up the mantle that had been destined for him from birth. Though he’d only known Willow a short while, he could already feel her imprinting on his very being in a way he would never forget.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Willow stretched languidly as the sun broke across the ocean. Her body ached from pleasure. Her mouth hurt from smiling so much.

  Her first though, as she lifted her arms high above her head and examined her nails lazily, was that it had been a dream.

  No way had she really just had wild sex with Mattias.

  She grinned, and dropped her hands to the bed.

  Oh, yes, she had, and it had been sensational.

  She sucked in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. An amazing night. One she hoped to repeat.

  She propped up on her elbow, and stared at the empty pillow beside her.

  She had no regrets. Except one.

  Anna.

  Her best friend would definitely not approve of this development, and Willow didn’t intend to let her find out. At least, not right away. Not before she knew what was going on.

  It was still painfully early, but Willow couldn’t sleep. Her whole body seemed to buzz with tension and sensation as memories of the night before washed over her. She stretched again, and then kicked her tanned legs over the side of her bed.

  She moved towards her bathroom and began to run the shower. Only she was hesitant to wash the lingering scent of Matt from her skin. Slowly, she ran her hands over her naked body, looking at herself in the mirror. Her fingers traced the paths his had run; feeling the same skin. She studied her face. Her eyes seemed to shine with a new knowledge.

  A new feminine knowledge of how the world works.

  She grinned, and stepped into the steaming hot shower.

  She could wash herself clean, because she’d be with him again. And soon, if she had her way.

  She lathered up her loofah and began to wash her body. All of the questions that ticked through her mind, like what last night had meant, were irrelevancies she would deal with in due course.

  In that moment, all Willow wanted was to feel.

  She closed her eyes and immediately saw Mattias. Handsome. Strong. Desirable. Powerful. Mysterious.

  She moaned out loud and reached for the taps, switching off the water and grabbing a towel in quick succession.

  Willow knew she had to talk to him. She didn’t know what she wanted, but until they were certain, they had to keep Anna and Isaac in the dark. The Berries were protective of her. And she didn’t want them watching the fledgling relationship with disapproval.

  Willow pulled on a pale purple dress, and brushed her hair until it shone. She would speak to Matt just as soon as the coast was clear. Anna left the house at eight o’clock every morning. Like clockwork. So a minute after eight, Willow scooped up a few of her books and headed towards her door.

  She crossed the lawn quickly, her heart racing in her chest as she contemplated just what she’d say to Matt.

  “Hello?” She called, as she stepped onto the porch. Her voice was high pitched. Nervous.

  “Willow?”

  “Isaac?” She stammered, her cheeks glowing even brighter. “What are you doing here?”

  He pulled the door inwards, and looked at her quizzically. “I live here.”

  She nodded awkwardly. “I know. It’s just… I thought you’d be at work.”

  He nodded, too preoccupied with his case to wonder why her reaction was strange. “Heading there in a second. Come in. Want a coffee?”

  She pulled a face. “Would I ever say no to coffee?”

  He grinned, but she was struck by how slim he was looking. “Isaac, you are looking after yourself, aren’t you?”

  His shrug was ruefu
l. “You sound like Anna.”

  Willow fell into step behind him, following him to the kitchen. Her stride faltered as her eyes fell on Mattias. Nonchalantly propped against the bench, a newspaper spread wide before him. He looked up as she entered, and when their eyes met, Willow was struck with a feeling of sinking. She smiled at him, wondering if her thoughts and desires and feelings were written on her face. She longed to cross to him, and to kiss him. To put her arms around his waist and hold his strength and warmth tight.

  But she did none of those things. Instead, she put the selection of her books down on the bench and stepped backwards as though his proximity might burn her.

  “Morning,” he said gruffly, his eyes lingering on the pout of her lower lip.

  “Hey.” She looked away, only because she was sure if she didn’t, she’d keep staring at him. “I brought these for you.” She cleared her throat. “To read.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her obvious nervousness. She was utterly adorable. “Thanks.”

  “Here you go.” Isaac handed her a coffee. Much to her chagrin, he topped his own cup up, right to the brim, and settled himself in one of the stools. Sure, it was his house, but Willow was aching to be alone with Matt.

  As though he could read her mind, Matt shot Willow a teasing look over his own mug, then drained it. He turned his attention back to the paper, and flicked the page. Annabeth Stott’s face filled a quarter of the broadsheet, and Isaac’s gaze fell to it. He visibly reacted, his face blanching.

  “Where the hell is she?” He said into the silent kitchen, slamming his palm down on the marble counter top.

  Willow jumped, startled by the uncharacteristic flash of anger in the otherwise mild mannered friend. “You’ll find her.”

  He shook his head. “It’s been weeks. Our leads are drying up. Her parents are distraught. I just need to know where she is.”

  Willow’s eyes sparked with tears, as she felt the grief of the situation. She nodded thickly. “I know you’re doing everything you can.”

  “I was with her mom until midnight last night. She’s taking a cocktail of sedatives just to get through each day. The not knowing is killing her. Killing them. And I can’t help. I can’t help.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I just wish I knew what else to do.”

  Willow nodded sympathetically. All thoughts of the night she’d shared with Matt flew from her mind. “If she’s out there, you’ll find her.”

  Matt closed the paper. “Listen, Isaac, people don’t just disappear.” He reached across and touched his old friend’s shoulder. “More than likely, she’s been taken. She could be overseas by now. This is not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this, and we all know you’re doing everything you can to find her.”

  Isaac nodded, but his expression was bleak. “I’m going to work. Catch you later.”

  “Ike,” Willow called after him, her caramel colored eyes wide. “Matt’s right. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

  “I’m the police chief, and I’m running the task force. You think I can’t blame myself?” His laugh was hollow. “You should try spending time with the mom.” He shivered. “I just need answers. To help them all move on. One way or another.”

  His words hung heavy in the air for moments after he’d left the house. Willow turned to Matt, her face showing her sadness. “Where could she be?”

  Matt compressed his lips. “Impossible to say. But if she has been taken, she’s probably far, far away by now.”

  Willow nodded. He was right, but the pronouncement filled her with grief. “Can you imagine what her family’s going through? What a nightmare.”

  He nodded. He felt nothing but sympathy for the little girl who was missing. But, perhaps because he’d seen the horrors of a warzone, he held very little hope for her recovery. After all, he’d had a front row seat to some of humanity’s worst impulses. What some people were capable of doing, even to children, defied explanation.

  “And how are you this morning, Willow St Clare?” He asked, his tone husky, as he studied her sleep deprived face and passion pink lips.

  As her eyes met his, she felt a lurching deep in her soul. “I’m good.” Good? She was so much better than good. She ran a hand through her dark hair, unconsciously drawing his gaze to the silky mane.

  “Do you have plans for today?” He asked with a twist of his lips.

  She thought of her deadline, and guiltily shook her head. “Nothing that can’t wait,” she fibbed.

  His smile was all the reward she needed. So sexy. So handsome. Her pulse sparked in her blood like an electrical current. “Good. Because I think we should go on a date.”

  “A date?” She asked with a small smile of her own. “You don’t think we’re past a first date?”

  Guilt, an unusual emotion for him, spread like a spider’s web in the breeze. “Not only do I think we’re not past it, I think you deserve it. I think you deserve an incredible first date. Can you meet me back here in an hour?”

  “An hour? Sure.” She reached up and touched his face, because she couldn’t resist. “Where are we going?”

  “A surprise,” he said with a wink. “You’ll like it.”

  “I know I will.” She dropped her hand, but instantly wished she hadn’t. Her fingertips tingled from the contact. Her whole body ached for him. Willow was in trouble, and she’d never felt better.

  * * *

  “Are you actually saying you just bought a car?” She asked, eyeing off the black Dodge.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. “I wanted to take you out on a date. I couldn’t do that with you driving.”

  She arched a brow, but slid into the seat. “That’s sort of chauvinistic.”

  He laughed, and came to sit beside her. “I was going for romance.”

  “In this day and age, there’s a fine line between romance and chauvinism.”

  “Oh!” He clutched at his chest, pretending to be wounded. “The cynicism. You surprise me, Willow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t understand why you’d buy a car in Haymarket Bay?” But beneath the veil of cynicism and criticism was unadulterated pleasure and hope. Did it mean he planned to stay? And for how long? Surely he wouldn’t buy a car if he was going to leave again anytime soon.

  He instantly understood, and that spider web of guilt seemed to thicken across his senses. “I can always sell it. Give it to Ike.” He looked at her as he turned the key and revved the powerful engine. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Right. The hope was weighed down like a stone in water. It didn’t mean anything.

  “Mattias…” She toyed with the hem of dress. “I don’t mean to sound intrusive, but cars are kind of expensive to just buy and then give away.”

  He nodded, shooting her a droll look as he expertly navigated the beast of a thing towards the beach. He turned left onto the esplanade, and picked a route that would take them along the coastline. “Is this going to turn into a lecture about silver spoons and a sense of entitlement?”

  She frowned. “Depends. Are you saying you were born with a silver spoon?”

  “I’ve certainly read that in the papers,” he laughed. “I guess a billion dollar trust fund amounts to that.”

  Willow spun her head to face his so fast she thought she’d got whiplash. “A billion dollar trust fund?” She demanded, her body flashing hot and cold. “Are you kidding me?”

  He shot her another look of confusion. “Willow… Is it possible you don’t know who I am?” He pondered, more amused than surprised.

  “Who you are?” She shook her head slowly. He was the man she was falling in love with. The man who had brought her all kinds of pleasure and delight in her bed. The man she was fast become totally hooked on. “Who are you?”

  “You mean you really don’t know?” He laughed then, a rich sound that filled the luxury interior with warmth. “This is absolutely fantastic,” he said, putting a hand on her thigh and
squeezing the slender muscle.

  “Matt, who are you?”

  He sobered, and focussed all his attention back on the seaside road. To their right, a sharp cliff dropped towards the ocean. To their left, tiny little beach shacks dotted the grassy land. “Have you heard of McCain Industries?”

  “Of course. The airline.” She rolled her eyes. “Who hasn’t?”

  “Heard of Mattias McCain?”

  She angled her whole body to look at him. “You’re… You’re Mattias McCain.” She nodded, though, because it made sense. He carried himself with the confidence and authority of one who had been groomed to believe in their power. Someone who, from birth, had been given the best opportunities in life. She had never really thought him to be ordinary. But she hadn’t expected him to be a closet billionaire, either.

  “Yeah.” He laughed again. “I will say this: it’s nice to know my wealth has nothing to do with what you see in me.”

  Willow laughed now, her eyes crinkling at the corners. His heart turned over. Her laugh was incredibly beautiful. Possibly the nicest sound he’d ever heard. “As if anyone would fall for you because of money. You know, Matt, you don’t need to pretend modesty.”

  The compliment, dressed up as an accusation, was music to his ears. “Not so much pretended modesty as the voice of experience.”

  Willow frowned. “I don’t believe it. You mean your marriage?”

  “Yeah. Turns out, amongst her other faults, Meghan was a big old gold-digger.”

  “But… you’re gorgeous!” She said with complete disbelief.

  Happiness, an actual force, burst through him. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I don’t think so. I know so. I don’t mean it in a subjective way. I mean, you’re seriously hot. I doubt anyone could disagree.”

  His smiled at her then looked back towards the road.

  “No, seriously Matt. And you’re incredible in bed. Like, mind-blowingly, insanely incredible.”

  He pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine. When he turned his head towards her, his eyes burned with intensity. “Willow, we’re going to have a problem if you keep going like this.”