The Billionaire's Longshot: Betting on You Series: Book Three Read online

  He grunted softly, “Good call.”

  Smiling, Jill added, “It appears to have worked out for you. Relocating, I mean.”

  He nodded. “Better than I expected when I made that decision. Like most eighteen-year-olds, if it was a choice that upset my mother, I did it. My first semester here was a challenge, but I connected with a few good people who, as you are aware, I’m still friends with today.”

  “I thought you were all business acquaintances. I didn’t realize you met in college. Have any good stories to share?”

  “Believe it or not, I was the rational one.”

  Jill shook her head. “I hear it’s always the quiet ones you need to worry about. Does this mean you were the mastermind who just didn’t get caught?”

  Arching a brow he said, “Are you an event planner or an investigator?”

  Smiling from ear to ear, she said, “I’ll take that as a yes. Care to share any embarrassing stories?”

  He leaned closer. “This line of questioning would be much more fun if we were alone.”

  Ross Whitman. Alone. Naked? Is that what he is suggesting here? That kiss was explosive, but he hasn’t made any move to be closer to me since. Why can’t I read this man? Is he just flirting? Blushing, she thought she knew what he meant. “Okay then, how about your favorite color, food, book, etc.”

  “Color. Never thought about it. Food, any type of seafood. Book, The Three Musketeers. Your turn.”

  That wasn’t a book she pictured him reading. He could have at least picked something like Moby Dick. She wasn’t about to call him out on it at this time. Instead, she provided her answers the best she could. “I love all colors of the rainbow, hence my hair when we first met.” She laughed softly. “Seafood is always a safe choice with me, but I normally keep it simple, pasta all the way. Favorite book, hmm. I don’t know.”

  “Don’t be shy. You can tell me if you read those books. What do you call them? Oh yes, erotica,” Ross teased.

  She couldn’t hide her shock. So what if I do read erotica? “Little Women. My favorite book was Little Women.”

  Laughing boldly, he added, “If you say so.”

  There was no doubt he didn’t believe her. That didn’t mean she was about to confess the truth. Her bathtub reads were her own business. You don’t just ask a girl what her favorite erotica is.

  Their food arrived, and they continued their questions throughout the meal. “What about hobbies?”

  “I love anything to do with water. So scuba diving and exploring ancient ruins, like Port Royal in Jamaica or Cleopatra’s palace in Egypt, or diving at The Great Barrier Reef. They’re probably what I like most.”

  She was glad it wasn’t sports. Jill found him absolutely fascinating. “I haven’t done any of those, but they sound exciting. I like to ski when the weather is cold and swim when it’s hot. I’m all out of questions.”

  “I have several.” He winked. Jill cheeks burned again. “Okay. Tell me why New York.”

  Now that was a hard one. One she wasn’t exactly sure of herself. She wanted to tell him it was to prove she was capable of living on her own, that she had made something of herself that would make not only Donna, but also her parents, proud. From what he shared of his family, it sounded like he might understand. She wasn’t ready to reveal her lack of education, though; education seemed a big part of who he was, and he might start to second-guess her decisions about the fundraiser. “I was ready for a change and work well with Lizette and Elaine. It seemed like a good move.” That wasn’t a lie. “How do you run a wine business from across the country?”

  “I don’t.”

  A puzzled look came over her. “Then how—?”

  He interrupted her. “It is my family’s business; my father currently runs it. I’m not involved in any of the decision-making at this time, nor am I interested in it either.”

  “Then what do you do?”

  “Build sailboats.”

  “No, I mean for a job.”

  “I build sailboats.”

  I didn’t know the manual labor types were paid so well.

  She had done some basic research on him, but it all led back to Whitman Wines. How was it I missed this crucial piece of information? Thinking back how his hands felt when they touched her, they were workingman’s hands: rough and callused. She could picture him sanding and smoothing the boat, the hot sun beating down on him. No shirt, his body would glisten with sweat while she lay sunbathing in her bikini, watching him. He would pour a bottle of water over himself before coming to join her on the bow to make sweet love in the daylight sun. Yummy. Surely he isn’t interested in me like that. Clearing her throat trying to cover dirty little thoughts, she said, “I guess you do enjoy all things that have to do with water.” She took a sip from her glass.

  “Would you care to join me for a short excursion after the fundraiser?”

  Did he invite me to go away with him? She must have misunderstood. That would be very forward of him since they were not intimate like that. They had been talking for a few months, and had seen each other at several social occasions, but there was no way he would expect her to say yes. Would he? He must mean for an afternoon or sunset ride. Rationalizing it all internally she felt so much better. Smiling she said, “I’d love that. Thanks, Ross.” He wouldn’t go from a night out for dinner to a little afternoon delight, would he? No. It was only her imagination getting away from her. Those things only happened in books. Like the ones I read. It was an innocent invite, nothing more. Besides nothing really could happen in broad daylight on an afternoon getaway. I hope.

  “Great, be sure you pack your bathing suit. The water is perfect this time of year.”

  Thankfully the waiter had arrived, “May I interest you in dessert?”

  Ross looked at Jill, who shook her head. She couldn’t think about eating another bite.

  Within minutes they were back in his car, heading for her apartment. If the kiss on the ride earlier was a prelude of what was to come, she wasn’t ready. Letting him come up to her apartment would only give him the wrong impression. Well, not exactly wrong, but one she wasn’t ready to fulfill. She wanted to touch him, explore what he had ignited in her with just a kiss, but she couldn’t trust her judgment.

  Does he want more from me? As much as she had enjoyed their time together thus far, she didn’t really feel she knew the man himself. He was aloof. Reserved. She thought he was physically attracted to her, but could he feel more? He hadn’t said as much. Is the ball in my court? She couldn’t risk the success of the fundraiser on a fling with Ross. No, too much was at stake. If there is anything between us, it needs to wait.

  As they approached her apartment, she was hot from his touch on her thigh and the nuzzling at her neck; she knew what she had to do. When they arrived, she would thank him for a wonderful evening, let him know she would see him in Napa, and give him a kiss on the cheek. She could do this. But how I secretly wish I could throw caution to the wind. The man is hot. No, whatever this is between us, it needs to wait.

  She would make her way to her apartment alone. She could do this. And it was only a week. She had waited this long, what was another seven days? As they approached their destination, Ross placed his hand on her thigh. Oh yes, this is going to be seven days of hell.

  Chapter Five

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  Walking the vineyard brought back many memories. Not all bad. His father had spent many hours explaining the various types of grapes, where each vine had come from, so on and so on. Even to this day, he wanted to care about it, to be passionate about it like his father, but he couldn’t. When he stood among the rows of vines that rolled smoothly over each hill up to the estate, all he smelled were grapes, and to him, they all tasted the same. As an only child it must have crushed his father to know the legacy ended with him. Guilt filled him no matter how he tried to deny it. If he stayed and learned the business, he would fail the family, as it never would be for him what it had been for his forefathers.
r />   “There you are, son. I didn’t expect to find you out here,” his father said from behind him.

  “I was looking for you.”

  “Hiding from your mother I take it?”

  He laughed. At least his father understood him. “This is going to be an interesting weekend. I saw her barking orders at the men putting up the tents. She does understand this is a casual affair, correct?”

  His father rested a hand on Ross’s shoulder. “You can tell her a million times what you want, but she is going to do it how she wants. I think you would know that by now.”

  “How do you do it?” He couldn’t believe the words actually came out of his mouth, but they were ones he’d wanted to ask for a long time and hoped his father would answer.

  “She wasn’t always like this. When we first married we worked together well. Over the years, her insecurities took over, and she became who she is now. I’ve learned when she is on a tangent, all you can do is stay clear and let it pass.”

  That explained why his father spent hours on end in the winery. “How did I let her get involved?”

  “You don’t let her anything. I was there when you called and asked about donating the wine. I don’t remember you asking for her assistance or even the use of the property. That’s your mother. Once she is fixated on something, she can’t let go. The good news is that in twenty-four hours this will be over with. Things can go back to normal.”

  Normal. That was not the way to describe their lives. But his father was right. Whatever happened, it was short-lived and soon forgotten. Jill would come, the event would be a hit, hopefully, and they would all return to New York. If only he believed it was going to be that easy. Nothing in Napa Valley ever had been; why should he expect it to be different now?

  “I thought I would let you know, the guests are allowed to bring their dogs.”

  A long silence lingered. His father removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair. “Let’s not tell your mother about this. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

  He’s right; it probably will be worse. All he could do was hope she didn’t make an issue of it until the guests left. The odds of that happening were slim to none. He meant to warn Jill about it, but if he had, she most likely wouldn’t have agreed to show up, and he would be hosting the whole thing alone. This was going to be the longest twenty-four hours of his life. Everything in him screamed, get in your helicopter and get the hell out of here. One thing stopped him: Jill. She was arriving first thing in the morning with Lizette and Jon. Besides, he had a special plan for them afterward, and he had no intention of missing it. Throughout the week, he had spoken with her a few times. Her passion for life was catching . . . well, except when he was in Napa Valley. He wanted to see her. She lit something in him he hadn’t realized was dormant, if it had even existed before. Have I ever felt like this for a woman? She was driven, fun, intelligent, and he felt alive just talking to her. On the way to her apartment, he sensed her pulling away a little. Was she not as interested in him as he was in her? Their kiss had caused his blood to heat, and it had taken every ounce of restraint to not reach into her sexy-as-hell dress and take her nipple into his mouth. How I want to taste her. Soon, Whitman. Soon.

  “Roosevelt. Are you there?” His mother’s screeching voice echoed through the valley.

  Both men smiled, and his father said, “Good luck, son. I think I’ll take another walk through to check everything.”

  Some things never change.

  A private jet was followed by a helicopter ride over the most amazing landscape she had ever seen. Miles of rolling hills were lined with what she could only imagine were the best grapes around. As they approached the landing pad she saw a vehicle waiting for them. Her heart skipped a beat. Please be Ross. She’d spoken to him a few times on the phone after their date, and she was looking forward to seeing him again.

  She was the first to exit when the doors opened and quickly made her way to the car. Disappointment filled her as it became apparent Ross wasn’t in the vehicle. Now joined by Jon and Lizette, a distinguished man in his mid-fifties got out of the car and greeted them.

  “Welcome.”

  Jon extended his hand. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Whitman.”

  “Call me Jefferson. Jon Vinchi, if I remember correctly.”

  Jon nodded.

  “No beer I assume?” Jefferson asked with a warning grin.

  Smiling, Jon replied, “No, sir.”

  “Good. It’s bad for business,” he joked. “And who are these lovely ladies with you?”

  “This is my fiancée, Lizette Burke, and her friend, Jill Aragao.”

  “Nice to meet you both.” Then he turned to Jill and said, “My son regrets he could not meet you himself, but his mother has requested his help with some of the final arrangements. The guests should be arriving in a few hours, so he asked me to meet you.”

  “Totally understandable. Thank you.” At least the excuse took away some of the sting. She wanted to give him heck for not being there, but she didn’t doubt there was a lot to do. She had seen the white tents from the air. This was going to be grand, and it was going to take all hands on deck to pull it off. She was relieved to know he was handling things until she arrived. She’d spoken to him a few times on the phone, and for the most part, it was only to discuss the fundraiser. Once they finalized the details he had actually been extremely helpful. It appeared that the aloof, too-busy-to-talk-to-her businessman was gone. In fact, she found it easy to get the results she was looking for. Maybe too easy. No matter what, it looked like they made a good team. She wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but she was looking forward to seeing him again. Maybe this was the start of something new.

  “Let me show you to the guesthouse. From there you will be able to make your way to the main reception area through the garden.”

  The guesthouse was huge. If this was for guests, she couldn’t imagine what the main house looked like. Exploring was not an option at this time. She needed to get out there and give Ross a hand. Dropping her bags at the entrance, she did as Mr. Whitman instructed and made her way through the most amazing garden. It smelled heavenly. When this was over she would need to ask Ross to take a walk here with her. Kissing him here in the moonlight would be beyond romantic.

  As she exited the garden she heard a woman shouting orders. “Roosevelt, I don’t care where you think that should go, I want it by the table with the wine and cheese.”

  Roosevelt? She couldn’t picture calling him anything but Ross, definitely not Roosevelt. Just thinking about it made her laugh. He was there, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, moving things from one end of the tent to the other. Scanning her surroundings, one thing came to mind: His mother likes perfection. Between the large white tents, white pressed linens, crystal glasses, and towering vases filled with exotic flowers, you would think there was a wedding about to take place rather than a fundraising event for pet therapy dogs. Oh my. The dogs. This wasn’t good. There must have been a misunderstanding about what kind of event this was. What part of casual didn’t they understand? His mother was wearing high heels, dressed in a cream silk pantsuit. Every hair on her head was in place. She looked as elegant as the surroundings.

  As Jill moved closer, Ross noticed her. His mother was still pointing and ranting, but he seemed to be unaffected. He came over and placed a light kiss on her cheek. “How was your flight?”

  If she wasn’t so concerned about what she saw, she probably would have appreciated his warm greeting. “Ross, what is going on here? This is not what we talked about a few weeks ago,” she said firmly.

  Ross took her by her elbow and led her out of earshot of his mother. “Jill, I tried to explain to you that my mother is overbearing. There is no stopping her now. We will make this work.”

  Crossing her arms, she looked up at him and tapped her foot. “The guests on my list believe this is a casual party, jeans and shorts. They also have been informed this is a dog-friendly party.” Waving
her hand around at the opulent setup, she said, “Nothing here says that.” Looking at the exquisite bone china, she shook her head. “People are going to be bringing all different types of dogs. We are not talking about little toy dogs you carry in a purse. We are talking about the running, jumping, playing, and pulling dogs like most people have, some big dogs. And I don’t mean Labrador big, I mean Newfoundland big.” Pointing to his mother, she questioned, “Does she even know that part yet?”

  Ross looked at his mother then back at Jill. He tensed, and her fear was confirmed with his simple answer. “No.”

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Don’t panic. She had time. This could all be fixed if they acted quickly. Put the china, crystal, and everything breakable away. The problem would be eliminated, and everything could go on as planned. Simple. There was only one thing that had to be done first.

  “I have to tell her.” She took a step to go around Ross, but he stretched out an arm to block her way. She looked at his arm then to him. This better be good.

  “Jill, trust me from years of experience, you can’t fix this. No one can. If you go over there now, she won’t take the news well and will most likely call the entire thing off. It would be over before it even started. All we can do now is ensure the guests have a good time. It’s only for a few hours. How much can go wrong? We’ll be here, and we’ll pull my friends in as decoys if things do get out of hand. I am sure Lizette and Elaine will support you, too. See, we’ve got this.” Meeting her gaze he asked, “Deal?”

  Maybe he was right. It’s not like she was on her own. Her entire support system was here. Sink or swim together. If he wanted to let this play out without any warning, it was his home. His mother had noticed Ross’s absence and was now making her way toward them. Decision time. Follow her gut or do as he asked? His mother, his choice.

  Her tone commanding, and without a single sign of the tenderness Jill would have expected from a mother speaking to her son, she said, “Roosevelt, the guests will be arriving soon. You need to get ready. I won’t have my friends seeing you looking like the help.” She then turned to Jill, looked her over, and snorted in disgust. “And who might you be?”