Only A Kiss With A Billionaire (Only Us Billionaire Romance Book 1)

by Ellie Hall

"I'm tired but too excited to go to sleep. Can you read the book again?"

  Will obliged. Then Birdie asked for another story.

  "We can't read Duke's Day at the Park, again."

  "But you can tell me a story. How about telling me about how the dogs from the shelter get their happily ever after."

  Again, Will agreed.

  It was well past Birdie's bedtime when her eyes started to dip. "Okay. I'm sleepy now. Thank you for the special day, Uncle Will." She stretched up and gave her uncle a peck on the cheek before turning to Emma. "Your turn."

  "Oh, yes, thank you, Uncle Will. Today was magical." She leaned toward Birdie. "And I think I might be able to conjure some Cinderella magic for the puppies."

  "Can I call you Auntie Emma? I'd like you to be my auntie."

  Emma's shoulders bunched up by her ears. She turned to Will.

  "We'll see. It's time for you to say your prayers and get some rest."

  Birdie smiled but didn't rest back onto her pillows. "It's still your turn, Auntie Emma."

  Emma stuttered.

  "You have to kiss him, silly."

  "Oh, I do?"

  "Yes, we're princesses and we have to kiss the prince good night. That's how it works."

  Emma couldn't help but giggle. She stretched across to the other side of the bed and gave Will a kiss on the cheek.

  His phone was on mute, but he felt it vibrate in his pocket and ignored it.

  Emma's lips were warm and shot a spark through him, lighting him up inside. He almost felt dizzy as he stood up after being sure Birdie had everything she needed.

  He heard Birdie whisper to Emma, "He said, 'We'll see,' and you told me that doesn't mean no."

  Emma's soft laughter was like a lullaby. He too felt sleepy but waited in the hall for her.

  She closed the door quietly behind her and padded over to him. "I meant it when I said thank you. It was a wonderful day."

  Her gaze wandered to his. Did she feel it too? The intangible, nameless sensation that floated between them, that magnetized them, that drew him and his thoughts dangerously close to her.

  "Did you mean it when you gave me a kiss?" he blurted, instantly realizing it was the wrong thing to say.

  "Will—" Emma opened and closed her mouth a few times as though struggling with how to respond.

  He felt himself involuntarily building up his inner walls. "Never mind."

  "Will, I—you're really sweet with your niece."

  "Yeah, she's great."

  "You mentioned Grand-Maman."

  He nodded and scrubbed his hand down his face. He almost couldn't bear to say it, but keeping it inside also hurt. "My mother. She died when I was eighteen—just after I'd started modeling. It was Christmas. I was gone. It was cancer. Unexpected. After that, I threw myself into my career." He didn't want to have this conversation. Even though it had been a long time, it still hurt to think about how she left so suddenly. With Sydney, it was the opposite, a long and slow goodbye, and nearly as painful. "Talking about it makes the loss more real especially this time of year."

  "But don't you want real?" she asked.

  They stood close together in the hallway. She smelled sweet. Like a cookie. He couldn't have that. Couldn't have her.

  His phone beeped with a reminder message and he glanced at it. The name Sydney flashed across the screen. "I have to go." He grabbed his coat, rushed into the garage, gunned his motorbike, and dashed into the night.

  If Sydney had the awareness to call him that meant he came back to himself there was hope.

  He left his bike in the front. He didn't care if he got a ticket. His mind flooded with possibility, of what it would mean if he could talk to Sydney again. The entry would have been inviting if it weren't for the fact that most of the people that stayed there never left. The thought followed him down the hall to the familiar room where his custodian had rested for months.

  The old man's chest rose and fell, but his breath was shallow as though he only hung on for another few minutes. Will dropped into the nearest chair next to him, held his head in his hands, and forced back the pain of seeing his hero dying.

  Chapter 15

  Emma

  Emma stewed all night. As usual, she could hardly sleep. She knew as well as Will did they could never have a relationship, but she'd meant what she said about how magical the day was and how sweet he was with Birdie. The kiss she'd planted on his cheek sent the butterflies afloat in her belly. They swooped, dove, and performed loop the loops.

  It was enough to trick her into thinking there could be something more between them someday.

  However, that was as likely and realistic as her fairy godmother whisking in, transforming all the butterflies into dollar bills, and wiping her troubles away.

  She didn't want a fairy godmother. She wanted something real.

  Despite the wonderful day, Will had to go and ruin it by running off the moment he got a booty call. She'd heard him mention Sydney before and imagined an exotic woman with luscious hair, long eyelashes, and legs for days. Pretty much the opposite of her. She envisioned Will lounging and the woman fanning him with palms and feeding him grapes. She dozed with the vision in mind. Her dream shifted and Will fanned her with palms, only instead of grapes, he fed her cookies. In his other hand, he held a wand and whisked it through the air, before planting a kiss on her lips.

  She woke, feeling flushed and out of sorts. This wasn't something she'd tell Penny. Because she read into all things romantic, she would claim Emma wanted Will. She didn't. At least that's what she told herself.

  After a cool shower, she dressed and wandered into the kitchen where she spotted the mail. She sifted through to make sure nothing was misdirected and meant for Apex. An official-looking letter addressed to Veronica Seeger caught her eye.

  She was probably just as gorgeous as Sydney was—smooth skin, full lips, and legs for days. She envisioned both Sydney and Veronica fawning over Will and tried to shake off her dream.

  From down the hall in his home office, Will laughed. Emma followed the sound as though drawn against her will. She rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself. She'd been fooled once and wouldn't be again. Will had proven he was just like Everett, and she couldn't trust him.

  Emma was still in the hallway when Will's laughter turned somber and the conversation sounded intense. She pivoted to go to her room and deliver the letter later when she heard her name.

  "Yeah, it was Jared's idea—" Will sighed. "I can't just fire him—"

  The caller must have interrupted.

  "It's ridiculous if you ask me." There was a long pause. "Yeah. Last night. It won't be long now. Sydney left me a message. He told me to settle down. With her." There was another pause. "I heard she's back in town." Pause. "No, no way."

  Emma leaned against the wall, holding her breath. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, but didn't put it beyond Will to keep secrets. If they involved her, she reasoned that she had a right to know.

  "I can't come out there." Pause. "I know, I know, rolling hills for miles. Cows, horses." Will laughed. "Cowboy, cowman." Another beat. "Yes, I'll come out to the ranch soon. I promise." He listened for a long moment and Emma turned to leave when Will said, "Does she have any friends? A sister. I don't know. Actually, I think so. They like to bake. She won't talk about her personal life." Emma heard something shift from inside the room and then Will was in the hall staring at her.

  She startled.

  "Listen, I have to run, Wyatt. Talk soon. Bye."

  Emma's gaze shifted to the painting on the wall behind Will—it was a rolling hill, dotted with daisies. She recalled Will describing the meadows in his story to Birdie and Grand-Maman.

  Will pocketed his phone. "Miss Jones, curious about the call are you?"

  "I heard my name so yes, I was." She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes.

  "That was Wyatt Jones. Funny, I never realized you shared a last name."

  "No relation."

  Will shrugged. "He
's a rancher from a small town in the US—out west."

  "I'm also from a small town but no one in my family is named Wyatt."

  "He's a cowboy and one of my best friends. With the cameras everywhere and the press getting involved in my business, you might understand that I don't want people listening in on my conversations. I've respected your request not to ask personal questions. I expect you to treat me with the same level of—"

  Emma gritted her teeth. "I wouldn't tell the paparazzi anything if that's what you're suggesting. Also, I didn't ask a personal question but when accused of the crime, I might as well commit it—" She held up the letter. "Who's Veronica?"

  "No one." Will shifted from foot to foot. His features hardened.

  "Who's Sydney?"

  Will shuttered, visibly pained. He stepped back into his office and leaned against the desk. Emma stood in the doorway.

  "I don't want to play games. Veronica Seeger is my ex. She cheated on me. Broke my heart." His words came out clipped.

  "Oh, sorry." Emma imagined he'd had exes, probably a lot of them, but she never thought they could break his heart. She thought he was like the Tin Man. She swallowed.

  Will gripped the edge of his desk. "She cheated on me. Me. Who'd cheat on me?"

  Emma couldn't ignore the framed prints of Will modeling on the wall in his office. "Perfection isn't everything."

  "Perfection isn't real, but thanks for the compliment if you were giving me one." He stepped closer to Emma. She stepped back. "That was a stupid comment. I know I can be a jerk."

  "And self-absorbed."

  Will cocked his head. "We're getting honest now?"

  Emma nodded. "And cocky."

  "You're stubborn and flaky."

  "I am not. I'm flexible and detail oriented."

  "Says the girl who refused to let me buy her lunch because she'd neglected to change her mobile plan."

  "You're uncommunicative and obsessive."

  "I'm pretty sure we're communicating right now."

  "You're a workaholic, untrusting, and promiscuous."

  "Promiscuous?"

  Emma crossed her hands in front of her chest.

  Will's eyes tightened. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

  "See? Uncommunicative."

  He threw his hands in the air in defeat. "After what happened with Veronica, I questioned everything I thought I knew about people, about women. No, I didn't question, I just shut off. I've learned repeatedly that once people learn my identity they change. They want something from me. She taught me that lesson the hard way."

  "What did she want from you?"

  "To ruin me."

  "That sounds harsh."

  "I've worked so hard to create this. I thought wealth was enough of a buffer between—" He paused. "The world and heartache." He gestured around the room and at himself. "She used me and then tossed me to the curb. I stopped trusting women and myself. So I created the devil may care persona. I went to a few clubs and parties. They weren't my scene but when the tabloids got ahold of the idea, they ran with it. They printed lies and altered photos and facts."

  "You have enough money; you can stop them."

  Will shook his head. "That's the thing. I didn't care anymore. All those months while in the US, I couldn't sleep so I'd read, workout, or haunt the streets—taking long walks, trying to escape the pain. So I looked like I'd been out late but really I was agonizing."

  "Over Veronica?"

  Will shrugged and turned toward the windows, looking at the city. "I was trying to get over her, over losing, and over not being good enough for people to stay."

  "Will," Emma said softly. "You are good enough and… You can't let your fans down. They're the ones who're loyal. They don't want to see you lose."

  "No, they eat up the gossip because it's a train wreck. They want to see people slip and fall. It's entertaining."

  "Then show them the real you. Who are you really? When we flew to London you told me you'd prove me wrong and show me you're more than a shallow, selfish, snob." She said the words at the same time she realized she now wanted to know the answer—who was Will really?

  Their gazes locked, the air in the room seemed to thin, and the sounds from the street went quiet.

  Will stiffened. "Easy enough for you to say. They wouldn't want the real me. Speaking of which, who are you, Emmaline? I know you're hiding something."

  "How do you know you want to know the real me?" she countered.

  That silenced him.

  She circled his desk and then sat down.

  "I had my heart broken too, William."

  Will leaned on his desk as though her confession softened something inside him.

  "I was on track to a brilliant career in computer programming. I met a guy in college who swept me off my feet. He even hired me as his assistant. I worked long hours, helping to get his startup off the ground. His business took off because I corrected a little bug in his programming and a few big ones too. I didn't tell him because I wanted him to feel successful. I always want to give. A developer offered him a huge deal as long as my name was attached. How could we say no? Then he surprised me by asking me to marry him. We agreed I'd put everything on my credit card because his funds were tied up in the company. He promised we'd pay it off together. He also asked if he could withhold my pay until after the wedding because he needed the capital."

  "Sounds—"

  "Sketchy? Slimy? Stupid?" Emma snorted. "So I was living off credit, charging everything to the card. I'd already discovered he went to clubs because he'd used the company card. I told myself it was the pressure of the launch. We were getting married, after all. I was so naïve. Then the day of the wedding, he didn't show up. Left at the altar. It was a small affair because that's all I could afford. Funny, he didn't invite most of his friends because dumping me was his plan all along. Turns out he was seeing someone else. All along, he used my computer skills and what should have been my pay per the agreement with the investors to fund his playtime."

  "I'm sorry, Emma."

  "Not as sorry as I am."

  Will reached out for her but she was just out of his grasp.

  "His company tanked. Because my name was attached to it, my reputation was ruined. All I have left are a few medals from my days as a runner."

  "You have more than that. You've helped Apex so much. You're an amazing assistant."

  Emma lifted her chin. "Will, if I hadn't been so stupid and so in love, I would've been the CEO. I should've had my own company."

  "You still could."

  She shook her head. "He'd used all our money to take his girlfriend on lavish business trips. When I showed up at your gym for the job on Christmas Day, I had fifty-four dollars to my name and was staying on my sister's couch."

  "And twenty-nine thousand five hundred and sixty dollars in debt."

  "Plus the phone overages."

  "I told you I'd cover those."

  Emma took an uneven breath. "So you'll understand why I'm feeling used and why I might be reluctant to accept your generosity."

  He stood in front of her and leaned over, clutching the armrests of the chair, caging her between his strong arms. "I'm not whatever his name is. I would never hurt or deceive you."

  His minty breath whispered across her skin.

  "I ditched my dreams of success for some guy who turned out to be a jerk. I can't trust my own judgment when it comes to men."

  "You can trust me."

  "Can I?" she asked.

  He traced his finger along her jaw and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. His were blue and so close she could see flecks of silver and gold. The intensity pulsing between them told her this wasn't make-believe. This moment was real.

  His gaze dipped to her lips.

  She bit hers, afraid to turn away. Afraid to lean in. Her mind told her to go. Her racing heart begged her to stay.

  "Say yes, Emma." His voice was a growl.

  "Say yes to what?" she whispered.


  "Tell me you trust me."

  Chapter 16

  Will

  Will wanted her to trust him. He wanted to trust himself.

  He could feel her sweet breath on his skin and see the pulse in her neck. The only thing between them was a single word. Yes.

  She didn't say it.

  He understood. Yet he didn't.

  It was terrible what that prat of an ex did. Diabolical really. Evil. The worst. For a moment, Will fantasized about what he'd do to the guy if they ever met, in Emma's honor, of course. Looking good wasn't the only thing his muscles were good for. But he wasn't a knight in shining armor. In fact, he felt like she'd penetrated his hard exterior. His shield became heavy in his hands as though he needed to set it down. Yet it wasn't enough.

  Her eyes drifted from his.

  He stepped back, needing to catch his breath. His phone buzzed.

  They both startled, pulled from the trance of their own devising. It was plain they had feelings for each other. Could they move past them? Could they heal old wounds? He couldn't buy the answer. He couldn't work out harder, gain more notoriety, or force things to work. He just had to be patient.

  The phone buzzed a second time. Blast that thing. He had half a mind to chuck it in the Thames or in the very least take a holiday to that island he owned. He doubted there'd be reception there. He didn't want her to think, not for a moment, that anyone on the other end of the line was more important than she was. Her ex had done a number on her and he wanted to show her that she was valuable, amazing, talented, and beautiful.

  Then his mind flicked to Sydney. The situation tore him in two. He'd provided the best possible care, hired the most skilled doctors. But that didn't mean much to a ninety-eight-year-old man who'd had several strokes. Sydney was all he had left other than Birdie and his sister.

  Sydney's message, during what must have been a lucid moment, haunted and thrilled him in equal measure.

  His phone buzzed again. He was almost afraid to look at it. The hospice would call, not text right?

  It was Sylvia, not Sydney. He let out a semi-relieved breath.