The Billionaire's Longshot: Betting on You Series: Book Three Page 4

  “I guess that’s all settled then. Two weeks and this will be behind us.”

  By her deep sigh and relaxing posture, he believed they shared the same thought. Thank God.

  Since his earlier plans to wine, dine, and bed her hadn’t matched her plans by the look of her bedroom, he thought it better to start from the basics. “I haven’t eaten, would you like to join me for dinner?

  Her eyes widened as though she couldn’t believe her ears. She turned her head away so he couldn’t see her face. “That would be nice, thank you. Let me get my coat.”

  She left him sitting on the couch while she went into the bedroom. She is trying so hard to pretend she isn’t interested. Why? When she returned her face was flushed. “Are you okay?”

  With a forced smile she answered, “Ross, look at my head. I can’t go out like this. You were right; it looks like a horn coming out of my forehead.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  I’m such a jackass. He hadn’t meant to hurt her when he said that. He was only trying to get to her sit still so he could take care of her. There was no backpedaling from this one. “Not a horn, but it does look painful. I can have something delivered if you would prefer.” The curve of her lips was his answer. “What do you feel like? Seafood, Italian, Chinese?”

  Shrugging her shoulders she answered, “Pizza and beer?”

  He laughed deeply and said, “My two favorites.” He took her topping request, which ended up being nearly all the toppings available, and placed the order. “They said thirty minutes, so why don’t we sit down, and you can tell me more about yourself.”

  “Not much to tell. I have an older sister named Donna, who lives in Boston with her husband and two children.”

  She had so much to say when it was business she was rattling on about. Her personal life seemed to be different and actually the only part that interested him. He’s never been one to give up. “Parents?”

  More softly she said, “Deceased.”

  Can I really fuck this up any more? So much for being a smooth talker. “I . . . I didn’t know.” Most times he didn’t get along with his mother, but he still loved her. He knew he should drop the topic, move on to something safe, non-confrontational, but instead he asked, “What happened?”

  She sat quietly for a moment. Her eyes began welling with tears before she started to speak. She blinked several times and looked to the ceiling in an effort not to cry. “They were coming home late one night from a play in Providence. It was foggy and lightly raining. Dad was driving—Dad always drove.” She let out a shaky sigh, probably in an effort to hold her composure. “Donna and I were so excited about something. I don’t even remember what we were so excited about, but we just had to wait up for them. So when one a.m. came around and they still hadn’t come home, we called the police. When they found them in the morning, they confirmed their car had rolled over into a ditch. The police said it appeared a deer had run in front of them, causing my father to lose control. There was nothing they could do. They were already gone.”

  A single tear rolled down her cheek. Gently he brushed it away with the back of his forefinger. “I’m so sorry.” He watched her cover her pain, pulling from strength deep within her. Ross should regret pushing the subject, but it revealed so much about her he was glad he did. Someone who had endured so much was not a weak, delicate flower but needed to be treated like one. He knew he was attracted to her fire and beauty, but her inner strength meant even more to him.

  Sniffling a bit, she forced a smile and said, “That was eleven years ago.”

  Yet the pain is still there. It was time for a bit of redirection. “Tell me, do you like New York?”

  Jill perked up noticeably, the tears disappearing from her eyes like they had never been there at all. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s good. Well, I really miss having a yard. But that is what you give up when you move here. What about you? Do you like the city?”

  Not as much as people think I do. “It serves its purpose, but it’s not where I like to be for any length of time.”

  Puzzled, she asked, “I never asked where you grew up. I assumed it was here. Do you still live with your parents?”

  God no. He laughed slightly. “Not since I graduated from high school sixteen years ago.”

  Her jawed dropped open. “I didn’t realize you were so old,” Jill said sincerely, her hand against her chest in shock.

  Totally taken back, he responded, “I didn’t realize I was so old, either.”

  Jill shook her head. “You don’t look it at all. I really thought you were twenty-nine or something. Maybe it’s that beautiful tan and how fit you are, but you really look a lot younger than Trent and Jon.”

  He deserved those comments after his horn one earlier. Old? Really? He also lived a different lifestyle than Jon and Trent. They drove themselves twenty-four seven, at least until recently. Ross worked hard to build his business, but escaped on his boat every chance he could. “I’m sure there is a compliment in there somewhere,” he teased.

  “Don’t worry, everyone thinks I’m younger than I am, too. I was even carded a few months ago when I went to a bar with my friends.”

  Ross didn’t want to think of her any younger that she was. Twenty-six was pushing it. He couldn’t remember dating anyone even close to eight years his junior. Dating? Wait, we’re not dating, he reminded himself.

  Saved by the bell. The pizza arrived, they kept their topics light, and the hours flew by. Before he knew it, she was yawning. Looking at his watch, he couldn’t believe it. It was already past midnight. When had he simply enjoyed talking to a woman so much? She was more endearing than he thought . . . and perhaps a little vulnerable. But he didn’t want to outstay his welcome, particularly if he wanted to be invited back. And I do want that. I want her. Another soft yawn escaped her sweet lips. “I better go and let you sleep.”

  Jill nodded in agreement and followed him to the door. “Will I see you again before the fundraiser?”

  She was a good six inches shorter than he, and as she looked into his eyes, he saw desire. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed. Did she feel this too? He felt a little intoxicated by her scent, by her sweetness . . . by her. How his fingers itched to stroke her soft skin. How he wanted to breathe the same air as they kissed. No, if she didn’t stop looking at him like that, he wasn’t going to leave. Bending slightly, he noted a hitch in her breathing. Yes, she feels this. He kissed her black and blue, bruised forehead and moved slightly away.

  “How about Friday night for that dinner I promised you?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Yes,” she answered quietly. Her brown eyes glistened as she rose to the tips of her toes and placed a kiss on his right cheek. “Thank you for a lovely night, Ross.”

  Was it just him, or did she shut the door with reluctance? Maybe next time no flowers.

  Chapter Four

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  “I can’t believe you are doing this. It’s like you totally forgot about the last time we were there,” Trent said.

  “At least you remember it. I barely remembered my name the next morning. Damn we were all young and dumb then,” Jon added.

  Elaine chimed in, “Anyone care to share what happened back then, or are you going to leave me hanging?”

  The men laughed and Trent answered, “I’ll tell you later, angel.”

  “That bad, huh? You guys never cease to amaze me,” she said.

  Ross interjected, “This meeting is not supposed to be about the past; it is supposed to be about Takes One. Can we please focus on that for the moment?”

  Silence filled the air before Trent finally asked, “What gives?”

  “Nothing. I’m running short on time.” And patience. He didn’t want to take a walk through memory lane, at least not on that topic.

  “I’m all for calling this one short, too. You guys really need to change the time for these calls. No pregnant woman wants to be up at six if she doesn’t have to be.”

  With that Elain
e began her presentation on this month’s recipient. “As I said, the timing would be perfect and in line with the fundraiser taking place next week.”

  “You are right. Timing couldn’t be any better,” Drew said. “I say let’s do it.”

  They took a vote and once again unanimously approved the recipient.

  “Great. I will start the ball rolling. Now I am going back to bed. I will see you guys in Napa. Have a great week,” Elaine said.

  With only four men remaining on Skype, Trent asked, “I wanted to make sure I understood correctly; Elaine said this event is casual and pet friendly. Was that a joke? I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly? I know it has been a long time since I have been there, but that doesn’t strike me as something your mother would approve of.”

  I really should have listened to Jill’s updates. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “Does she know what she is walking into?” Trent asked.

  He tried to explain it, but there was no way she would believe his mother could be that bad. It was something you needed to experience for yourself and once was more than enough. “She’s not alone. I’ll be with her.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Drew commented.

  “Don’t go there. Remember you volunteered me to co-host this thing. You know what they say about payback.” He was agitated, a rare emotion for the others to see.

  “I remember being volunteered to be part of a certain fundraiser, and look at me now.” Jon laughed but Ross didn’t. “She’s a really sweet girl, Ross. Just don’t forget that.”

  I don’t plan on it. “Thanks. See you in Napa,” he said, then disconnected the call.

  Ross must have lost his mind. That is the only explanation he could come up with for the thoughts running through his head. Fly her out to California with him, but don’t show up at the event. Steal her away onto his sailboat and spend a week at sea making love to her. Totally lost my mind.

  “He’s picking me up shortly, so I better get going.”

  “Have a good time and stop overthinking everything.” Lizette said. “Everything Jon says about Ross makes him sound like a wonderful man. Levelheaded and responsible, you would be perfect for him.”

  Me, perfect? Far from it. “Okay, got it. Don’t think, just let it happen. But I have to go and finish getting ready. I know you don’t want me to be late” she said and hung up.

  She was ready, but she needed a few minutes to calm her nerves. She went to the full-length mirror for the last once-over. She didn’t want to overdo, so she wore a red wrap dress and matching heels. This was only the first date. For all she knew, it also might be the last. He was difficult, if not impossible, to read. Pacing around her small apartment was not easing her anxiety. Why is this date different than any other? The answer was clear; he made her feel something she had never felt before. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it brought butterflies to her stomach, thinking of seeing him tonight. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  The doorbell announced his arrival, making it way too late to back out. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. He stood there, holding a single red rose. “I thought this might be a better choice.”

  Whatever doubt she had about the date vanished. Laughing softly, she said, “It’s beautiful. Thank you. Do you want to come in?”

  “I have a car waiting for us. Maybe after dinner.”

  Don’t overthink it! Not trusting her voice, she picked up her purse and keys and locked the door behind them.

  “I made reservations at One by Land, Two by Sea,” he said once they were inside the car.

  It wasn’t a place she was familiar with, but whatever he chose was most likely better than anything she would have suggested. Say something . . . anything. Why did she become tongue-tied around him? She had never been at a loss for words before, even when she should have been. It wasn’t his wealth, because she had no problem speaking with Abby Corisi, and one couldn’t get much more powerful than that family. It wasn’t only his looks, though on a scale of one to ten, he was a fifteen in her book.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent of him. Masculine. Turning slightly she met his gaze; he was staring at her, studying her. Jill shivered slightly as their eyes met.

  Ross reached out and took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and placed a kiss on it. “Are you cold?”

  Far, far from it. She was not about to admit the true nature of her goose bumps, however. “A bit.”

  She expected he would request the driver to turn the heat on. Instead, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Tipping her face to look at him, he said, “I can fix that.”

  His lips came down onto hers, a light caress, soft like the first, yet he didn’t pull away this time. Instead his kiss deepened, his tongue traced her lips tenderly, prodding her to open to him. A moan escaped as her lips parted, giving him access to his desire. Overcome by her own need to taste him, she entwined her tongue with his, exploring him as eagerly as he did her. He stroked her jaw, then neck, tracing his fingers lower until his thumb brushed her cleavage. Instantly her body tensed. Fear? Excitement? More likely a combination of both. Please don’t stop.

  Ross didn’t further his exploration, yet he also didn’t remove his hand. His thumb continued to trace the peak of one breast then the other. She could feel her nipples harden and heat flood between her legs. Ever so slowly he let his hand drop from her. Then his kisses lightened. “Is that better?” he asked, only inches from her mouth.

  Is that better? That man can kiss. She couldn’t remember a time she’d been kissed with such finesse and fire. She knew she couldn’t read him, but everything about that kiss was unexpected. She was shaking, and her skin tingled in every spot he had touched. She failed at gaining her composure; her voice was shaky when she answered, “Much.”

  He sat back but didn’t release his hold on her. If this is how the date starts, how is it going to end? Forcing the thought from her mind, she tried to concentrate on the present.

  The car stopped, and she noticed they were in front of what looked like an old fire station, converted into a restaurant. It looked warm and inviting. As they entered, the phrase you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover came to mind.

  The restaurant was elegant and formal. The dark, worn wooden floors complemented the aged brick walls, giving an authentic and classy feel to the building. Tall arched windows lined the outer walls, and Jill could only imagine how beautiful the natural light would have been if they’d come for lunch. Instead, the room was lit by a tiered brass chandelier with faux candles, hanging from the black ceiling. The staircase was on the only wall that was drywalled, painted a chestnut brown to accentuate the room. The stairs led to an open loft, which was a private party room. Antique paintings of historical figures and still lifes hung on the walls between sconces, each topped with its own tiny lampshade.

  She had spent several years waitressing and never had to dress as formally as the staff here; they wore tuxedos. Jill stopped in her tracks, feeling as though everyone was staring at her.

  “Something wrong?” Ross asked.

  She had worn a nice outfit, yet at this moment she felt underdressed. As she scanned the attire of the other women, one thing came to mind. Designer labels. She noticed Ross fit right in. How had she not realized this before? “I didn’t know you were taking me somewhere so . . . fancy. I’m not dressed for this.”

  Smiling at her, he put a hand on the small of her back and whispered close to her ear, “You look amazing, but would you rather go back to your place?” he asked suggestively.

  Jill wasn’t ready for that either. “This will be fine.”

  The maître d’ took a quick look at Ross and said, “Your table is this way, Mr. Whitman.”

  The man led them to a more secluded table in a separate room. She could hear the other dinner guests chatting and could see them through the door, so she let herself relax. She sat down across the table from the chair Ross pulled out before she realized
he had pulled it out for her. He smiled and took the chair for himself in stride.

  “So private,” she said, giving Ross a questioning look.

  Ross said, “I thought we could continue the conversation we started earlier this week.”

  She nodded with enthusiasm. The waiter entered the room and handed them each a menu. Jill scanned it. Appetizers: Wild Mushroom Tart, Arctic Trout Gravlax, Oyster Chowder en Croute, Shaved Raw Wagyu Beef. Entrees: Long Island Duck, Braised Australian Lamb Shank, Spice Rubbed Lobster and Monkfish. No spaghetti and meatballs on this menu. She was tempted to let Ross order for her, but that could be risky in itself. Coming from Rhode Island, she knew seafood was her best bet.

  “I’ll have the Arctic Trout Gravlax to start, and the Spice Rubbed Lobster and Monkfish as an entrée,” she said.

  “And I will have the Australian Lamb Shank,” Ross said.

  “Very well,” the waiter said and left the room.

  Once alone she said, “Tell me about growing up on the best vineyard in Napa Valley.” Was it her imagination or had he tensed at her question?

  After a brief delay he answered her, “The vineyard was beautiful and still is. You will see for yourself next weekend.”

  That answered nothing. “That wasn’t my question. What was it like?” He had no problem prying into her personal life so why couldn’t she pry into his?

  “It was not what many people imagine. I’m an only child of parents who are absorbed in only what matters to them. Since I chose not to follow either of their wishes for my career, we barely have a reason to speak.” His tone was dry.

  It sounded very, lonely. “Is that why you chose Boston University?”