Her Bad Boy Billionaire Lover (Billionai - By Bretton, Barbara Page 0,9
The future is what's important to me." Jenny's future, most of all. Dear God, she thought, don't let him find out about our daughter. She had no room for him in her life, no matter that her traitorous body said otherwise.
"It was our wedding night," he said, ignoring her protests. "They had a bucket of pink champagne on ice--"
"Pink champagne," she said with a soft laugh. "You're being kind. I doubt if a champagne grape had been anywhere near that bottle."
"So you do remember. I was beginning to wonder."
Damn him. He'd always been able to bend her to his will. "Is there a point to all this? We were wonderful in the bedroom and terrible in every other room in the house."
"There was more to our marriage than that."
"No, there wasn't. I never knew you, Jake, not really. You were as big a mystery to me then as you are now."
"I'm not the one who walked out on the marriage," he pointed out. "You were."
"I had good reason." And you let me go without a fight.
"I'm not arguing that, Meggie. What I'm saying is there's unfinished business between us."
She looked away, eyes drawn to the silvery wake the Sea Goddess left in its path. How could she argue the point when back home their daughter slept peacefully, hugging her favorite teddy bear to her chest, dreaming dreams that Megan was determined to make come true.
"Can you deny there's something between us, Meggie?" His voice was low, seductive...dangerous.
"No." She turned to face him. "I can't. But that doesn't mean we have to act on it."
"Maybe we should." He released her from his grip and her entire body yearned toward his. "Maybe that's the only way we can get rid of the past once and for all and get on with it." The perennial twinkle in his eyes turned darker, more intense.
"This isn't a pleasure trip for me," she said, her mind racing through endless winding corridors, looking for a way out. "I'm here to work."
"Sunday," he said. "Day after tomorrow. You'll be finished by four. After that, your time is yours."
Her eyebrows lifted. "You know about Sunday?"
"I know about everything."
She didn't doubt him. "You piano players get around."
He gave her one of those smiles that had buckled her knees back when she was young and naive. Unfortunately, that smile still worked now that she was older and wiser. "Sunday night," he said, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "Ten o'clock." He kissed her quickly, his lips barely touching hers. Just enough to make the longing inside her grow stronger. "Right here."
"No matter what I decide?"
"No matter what you decide." The look in his eyes brooked no argument. "You owe me that much, Meggie."
She remembered the night she'd walked out on him. How she'd gone out of her way to avoid confrontation and questions and the whole unsavory business of breaking up a marriage. She hadn't known how to handle conflict or poverty or any of the thousand things that could go wrong between a husband and wife.
She simply hadn't understood that divorce only ended a marriage in the eyes of the law; it took much more than a piece of paper to convince the heart that it was over.
Chapter Three
"Briscoe's going to be hard to beat," said Ian Macmillan, one of Jake's partners in Tropicale.
Jake looked up at him. "I wasn't that impressed."
The two men were seated in the office adjacent to the bridge. It was very late but given the charade they were playing--posing as members of the crew--this was the only time they had for executive business.
"Briscoe's the old pro of the group, best credentials this side of the Cordon Bleu." Macmillan laughed tiredly. "But she isn't what you'd call easy on the eyes, is she?"
Jake, who had been studying a spreadsheet of projections for the next fiscal year, grunted. "This isn't a beauty contest."
"Maybe it should be. Did you see that babe with the big green eyes?" He glanced down at the brochure Jake had kept on top of the stack of papers on the desk. "Megan McLean will have to go some to come up with something tastier than her own sweet self."
Jake looked up. "What was that?"
"McLean," said Ian, oblivious to Jake's tone. "Don't tell me you missed her." He held out his hand at shoulder height. "About this big." His hands described a curvy shape in the air. "Everything where it should be. Woman's got the best pair of--"