His lips tilted into a smooth, sexy smile. “It’s true. It’s very true, Billie, like Billie Holiday, but there’s only so much I can do. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have touched the estate, or the whole complex for that matter. But it’s not up to me.”
“What will you do?”
“Me personally?”
“You personally.”
His hand smoothed back over mine and returned to that backwards and forwards motion. Like earlier, my nerves scattered, but unlike earlier, I didn’t move my hand away.
“Me personally. Well, I reckon if push comes to shove, I’m good with my hands. I build things, and I have money, lots of it. Can’t have people in pain with damaged lives if I can do something about it, right?”
My heart couldn’t have melted any more than it just did.
“You would do that?”
“Yeah. But hey. We’ll see what happens. In your story, state you’ll be doing the follow-ups next week.”
“Next week? You said I could meet you every day. If you answer five questions every meet, that means four more meetings.”
“Exactly, I knew you were a quick study. And since I want to see you more than four more times, that won’t work.”
I had to laugh.
“You are one very interesting guy.”
“Glad you know. Interview over. Let’s eat before the food gets colder.”
* * *
We ate.
I truly enjoyed the food, and like last night, we weren’t stuck for conversation.
Except for taking whatever time needed to retrieve the food, eat, and swallow, we were talking. About everything.
“Come on, take a walk with me by the lake,” he suddenly suggested.
I looked at the pitch-black night sky. Walking by the lake was romantic in most people’s books, but I found it a little creepy. More of the horror film sort of thing you’d do.
“Come on, it’s beautiful.”
“And dark.”
“Dark, but lit by the moon.”
He didn’t allow me to protest again. He grabbed my hand, pulled me to stand, and tugged me along to the back door just beyond the kitchen.
A blanket was spread around my shoulders before he opened the door, and he beamed down at me with pride.
“You’re scared of the dark?” He leaned close and brushed his nose against mine.
“I’m not scared. I would just rather not walk around in it.”
“We’re on the grounds to my house. What could possibly go wrong?” he asked, still looming before me with a wicked smile on his face.
“People who say that are usually the first to get caught by a psycho.”
“The only psycho here is me.” He laughed.
He stepped outside first, then pulled me along and never let go of my hand.
It was chilly, and my legs were cold.
My hair whipped up in the gentle breeze, and the ends floated toward him.
We walked to the edge of the lake, and it was indeed beautiful. It was artfully designed, just like the rest of the place. The surface of the water glistened like diamonds had been splashed against it, but what stole my breath away was the row of pink cherry blossom trees that ran along the bank on the opposite side. They’d been lit up, so the pink looked like a ball of fire.
“Oh my God. Wow.” I gasped. I could have easily been in a Japanese garden. Again, I’d never been, never had the privilege to go somewhere as amazing as Japan, but it was on my list of things to do.
“Like it?”
I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s like Japan.”
“Well spotted. I designed it to look like the rock garden at the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto.”
Wow, I was truly impressed.
“You’ve been?”
“Japan’s one of my favorite countries. It’s adventure and everything rolled into one. You’d love it.”
“I would. I absolutely would. I want to go.” I smiled at the thought.
“Come with me. We can go together.”
“You’re so funny.” I stepped back, but he pulled me closer.
“You saying you wouldn’t go if the offer was on the table? Imagine the fun we’d have, Billie.” Mischief flickered in his eyes.
It was there against the moonlight and the soft amber lights that surrounded us. Mischief of the hot, sexual variety.
“You can’t just take me to Japan. We met three days ago.”
“And yet it feels like a lifetime.” He grinned.
“It kind of does.”
He held my gaze, loomed in closer, and picked up a lock of my hair.
Something…
That intense chemistry that had flickered between us earlier captured my mind and held me still as he looked down at me. It kept me still and opened the door of desire when Chad came even closer and brushed his lips over mine.
It was a taste. A taste to something I wanted and craved but resisted.
I should have resisted and put up more of a fight against my emotions, but I couldn’t.
A hot blush crept over me, and a ball of need combusted in the pit of my stomach, sending a jolt of heat throughout my body. Every cell within me came alive with it. Alive with hot, sexual energy that wiped my brain clean of thought.
We moved to each other at the same time, and when his lips captured mine, it felt like a match to gasoline.
An explosion of heat rushed across my skin and consumed me, licking at the tips of my nerves as it cascaded throughout my body.
He slipped his hand over my cheek and to the back of my head, pressing me closer into the kiss as if he needed more. As if he needed all of me. He took advantage of my gasp to sweep his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of passion, undiluted passion. Raw with the purity, raw with need.
God help me, I didn’t even get the chance to try to resist him. I wanted him too, and I allowed lust to grab hold of my insides and take control of my mind and body.
His slick tongue tangled with mine, and I slid my palms up the hard walls of his chest as our mouths opened and closed against the rhythm of our hot, hungry kiss.
How long had it been since I’d felt like this?
Had I ever felt like this? As if my body was alive with pure energy and elation that couldn’t be described.
But…
It was wrong. He was Chad Arnaud, the handsome billionaire of Arnauds Investments.
And I was just Billie.
Billie Harrington, who lived in an apartment she shared with her best friend.
Billie, who couldn’t help her mother more in a time of crisis.
Chad was right with his objective answers. Realistically, Arnauds wasn’t exactly doing anything wrong. A contract was a contract. And I’d just worn my heart on my sleeve.
The thought made me pull back.
“Stay,” he said barely above a whisper.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t? That’s a word used when you want to do something and you’re trying to resist it.” That wicked, sinful smile lit up his face. He reached out and touched my cheek, tracing the outline of my jaw. “You taste good. Better than the fantasy, but then… in the fantasy I got to taste you everywhere.”
It was like he spoke right to the part of me that wanted to be free to indulge in what he had to offer. The part of me that wanted to allow the desire that coursed through me to take over.
The part of me that wanted to be Billie. The woman who was hopelessly attracted to this deadly handsome man who could sweep me off my feet with one look.
“Chad, I…”
He chuckled, leaned in, and brushed his lips against mine.
“Saturday night, then,” he spoke against my lips.
“What happens Saturday night?”
“We’re going out. Dancing. Leave the notebook. It won’t be a date like that.”
“What kind of date will it be then?” I said it more to myself than to him.
“A real date, just you and me. Say yes.” His eyes sparkled against the moon
light.
My body and my soul screamed yes. “Yes.”
“Perfect.”
Chapter 9
Chad
* * *
“I found some correspondence in a weird email,” Maurice stated, throwing himself down on the sofa.
He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV that I was staring at blankly.
I looked at him.
I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“What?” I asked.
He gave me a deadpanned expression and shook his head. “Patrick.”
He tossed popcorn at me and laughed.
“Oh yeah, Patrick.” Damn Patrick. He was the last person I wanted to be thinking about on a Friday night.
Why’d I suggest Saturday night to Billie?
Why would I do that?
I know. I was too hyped up on sex hormones to think straight and just said Saturday. Who knew, I probably thought in the mindless part of my mind that robbed me of reasoning that today was Saturday.
Wait, what was I doing? It was Friday night, and I was home.
Well…
I was home with Maurice, who was wearing one of those godawful Beavis and Butthead T-shirts no one wore anymore. I appreciated that he didn’t look like the average geek who tried to let the series live on, but damn, it was ugly.
I stood up to go. I was still dressed in my work suit. If I took off my jacket, lost the tie, and messed up my hair a little, I’d look more casual.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“We just got here.” He sat forward and glared at me.
“And you’re welcome to stay. I’ll be back later. Maybe.”
“Chad.” He gave me that knowing look I’d grown accustomed to in the last ten years and counting.
“Yes, Maurice.”
“You going to see Billie?” He raised his brows.
“Could be. So, anyway, I’ll see you later.”
“Chad, dude, you need to cool off. The press are… like sharks at the moment. What do you think will happen if your father finds out that Billie is the same Billie who did an exposé on the company plans?”
I frowned and grit my teeth.
“He’d go apeshit on me.”
“Yes, indeed. You go to her house, and you’re asking for trouble.”
“I could ask her to meet me someplace.”
He laughed at me. “So, it’s like that already? You move fast.”
I sat back down. Fuck, I wanted her. I shouldn’t have allowed her to leave last night, but I had to. She was the kind of girl you took things slow with.
I could tell. I already knew my personality was probably too much for her, but that was me.
If I was interested, you didn’t have to guess.
And I was more than interested.
“It’s… different.”
“Different how?” He looked intrigued to know. “Is this like a Mellissa Jackson in freshman year different, or a Carly Daniels in senior year? Haven’t seen you fall like either of those since.”
I barely remembered those girls, but at the time I was crazy for them. Young and crazy. I was now a grown man of thirty-three years, and there was a sadness in hearing that Maurice hadn’t seen me fall like I had back in college.
College was a lifetime ago, and I’d changed big time. Life had changed me.
Stuff had happened, and my eyes were forced open to the truth.
“It’s different. There’s something about her that makes me crazy.” It might have sounded strange to say that, but it was true.
“Okay, Chad. We’ve been friends for a very long time, but I guess I’m not supposed to figure you out.”
“It’s fine, my friend, we understand each other, and that’s the important part.”
“Indeed. So… Billie aside, I was saying I found some strange emails on Patrick’s computer.”
I smiled. “You hacked into his emails?”
“Yup, I sure did.” Maurice looked proud of himself.
This was just like college. People didn’t realize the extent of my friend’s expertise.
He claimed to be into public relations, but really, he was a tech god.
Since he worked for me and the company paid him heaps more than he would get in most tech jobs, it suited him to work in a job outside his field. But his was a job that called on those techie skills every now and again.
“What were the emails?” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees.
“Expressions of interest. They looked like expressions of interests by the way it was delivered. The host site was remote, and the person signed their name with an S. It was like blah blah, blah, S.”
“What kind of questions were they asking?”
“It was about the complex. They wanted to know how much each apartment would go for and wanted to put a deposit to secure fifteen.”
I blinked several times, not quite understanding. “Fifteen what?”
“Apartments.” Maurice shrugged.
“Who in the hell would want to put a deposit straight down for fifteen apartments?”
“Someone richer than you. Like a sheik.” He chuckled.
“Maurice, this isn’t funny. This is it. It’s the weirdness. What the fuck is Patrick up to?”
“I’m sorry to say this, but your brother is one shady character. I wouldn’t want to cross his damn bad side. Those apartments will be worth at least half a million each to buy straight up because of the location and your family name.”
I sighed and brought my hand to my temple, remembering Patrick’s behavior and his threats yesterday.
That was why. Me delaying this was indeed losing money.
But money for whom?
I wasn’t told there was anyone interested in putting down a deposit. Dad would have mentioned it when he laid down the law to me.
Fifteen apartments at around a half a million was a lot of money not to mention it.
I was willing to bet that Dad didn’t know anything about it.
“Look into it further, Maurice. I really think there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. In the meantime, Chad, be careful. The only wild card in this whole fiasco is Billie and her exposé. It dragged you into something else.”
I couldn’t disagree with him. He was right. He was so very right.
“What if it’s something I want? What if I really like her?”
Maurice laughed at me. “It’s not even been a week yet.”
I didn’t care about time. I cared about emotion. That was immeasurable. You couldn’t put a time frame on that. Either you felt a thing, or you didn’t. It was that simple.
Time didn’t have to pass to condone the extent of emotion.
That was my philosophy anyway.
“Let me worry about that.”
“Just be careful.”
“I will. What we need to do is find out who this S person is.”
Maurice nodded.
Just thinking about it gave me an unsettled feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. It enhanced the something wasn’t right sixth sense that had bugged me now for the last few days.
I hated when I was right.
* * *
Billie
* * *
I sat around the kitchen counter finishing off my article.
I’d spent most of the day on it getting it ready for Monday’s paper.
I’d gone over it several times, and this last time was to add some tweaks.
I read through it again quickly, skimming more than reading, and emailed it to the delivery box at the Chronicle.
Mission accomplished, and I felt a definite sense of achievement. Today, I’d told Miranda the interview went well, and I got some key questions answered.
I didn’t plan to tell her that what I had was only a portion of the questions I wanted to ask Chad. Since my questions were sort of meaty, I stretched them out, so it looked like some of them were two
questions. Which, I supposed they were.
She was happy with the draft I’d provided this morning and assured me she’d send off the request to the board for my raise.
I was buzzing at the prospect and couldn’t wait until next week. She said requests usually took around three to five working days, so I could be looking at next Friday before I heard anything back. That was the latest, and I could most assuredly wait a week.
She said she didn’t mind follow-ups as it showed momentum for the paper and focus. So that would be my week planned out.
My week with Chad. Which started tomorrow.
I didn’t know what I was more excited about. Him or the job.
My heart betrayed me and told me it was him.
Although I shouldn’t be. Why?
Because I was heading for trouble.
That kiss last night had burned into my memory and sealed itself to my mind. It was stuck there along with everything I felt.
The problem was, I was focusing on my career. It should have been that simple, and I didn’t need a man to throw me off kilter. Throwing me off my game with his charm, gorgeousness, and heart.
He had it all. Chad had it all, but I still needed to tread carefully.
I slid off the kitchen stool and made my way into the sitting room, where Zoila was watching the news.
The headline said: Return of the Salvatores
“Hey, girl.” I beamed, taking a seat on the sofa opposite her. She was painting her toe nails.
“Hola, chica. Did you see this?” She pointed to the TV screen.
“No, what is it?”
“Mobsters. This is the kind of story I want to write.” She nodded with excitement.
“Salvatores.” I narrowed my eyes and tried to follow the reporter’s broadcast on NBC.
“The Salvatores are an Italian crime family, but they were really big in Columbia. My abuela told me a lot about them. Think everything bad, and they are it. But no one has ever been able to catch them or hold them liable for anything. They infiltrate everything, anywhere. It’s kind of scary.”
“Yes, the kind of scary where you’d have to watch your back if you did a story.” I didn’t know if I could be that brave.
The Billionaire’s Girl Page 7