The Billionaire’s Secret
A Sweet Billionaires Romance
Lorana Hoopes
Dedication
To my family who lets me write the stories in my head.
To all the single parents out there - especially single fathers - You are doing a great job!
Contents
Note from the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
It’s not quite the end!
25. Author’s Note
26. Not ready to say Goodbye yet?
27. A Brush with a Billionaire preview
28. A Free Story For You
29. Once Upon a Star Preview
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The Story Doesn’t End!
About The Author
Note from the Author
Thank you so much for picking up this book. I hope you enjoy the story and the characters as they are dear to my heart. If you do, please leave a review at your retailer. It really does make a difference because it lets people make an informed decision about books.
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Lorana’s Other Billionaire Books:
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Brush With a Billionaire
The Billionaire’s Christmas Miracle
The Billionaire’s Cowboy Groom
The Cowboy Billionaire
Chapter 1
Maxwell Banks smiled at the buxom blond across from him. Her name had escaped his memory, but she would make a suitable companion for the night. The image of her long blond hair splayed like gold across his pillow filled his mind, sending his pulse into overdrive. Her yoga instructor body was just calling out for his attention if the tight shirt she was sporting was any indication.
Discreetly, he turned his wrist to check his watch. Fifteen minutes since they finished dinner. Surely that was a long enough segment of small talk. “You want to finish this somewhere more comfortable?” He reached across the table to stroke her hand as he said the words. A little flattery went a long way. He had mastered that art in the last few years.
Her tongue darted out and swiped across her lips, and her teeth bit the bottom one, causing the blood to flow to it and tint it a shade darker. “Um, sure, I guess that would be okay.”
Her words were hesitant, and Maxwell knew he would have to turn up his charm. He didn’t usually have to work hard to get women to come home with him. With his dark hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, and chiseled chest his looks alone attracted many. The fact that he came from money attracted the rest. Those were the harder ones to get rid of, the ones after his money. They tended to show up uninvited and blow his phone up all hours of the day.
But this one wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. This one he picked up in yoga class. Yoga was not usually his thing; he preferred lifting and running, but his friend Justin had dared him to try the class, and as the instructor was hot, Maxwell had taken the chance.
He could tell when he entered the large room that she found him attractive as her eyes followed him as he crossed the room to grab a mat. His blue cut-off t-shirt had showed off his muscular arms and brought out his eyes, and his playing dumb had kept her by his side most of the class. Asking for her number had been easy after that. He had simply put on his puppy dog face and emphasized the need for private lessons if he was ever going to improve. She had fallen for it; hook, line, and sinker. Now it was time to seal the deal.
“Great.” He whipped out his wallet and placed four twenties on the table. It was more than enough money as she only had salad and water–another perk to taking out weight conscious women. Then he stretched out his hand to her.
“Don’t you need to wait for the change?” she asked, glancing around for the waiter.
“No, I believe in big tips.” He flashed his best smile, hoping it would soothe some of the hesitation in her voice.
She shook her head in disbelief, but accepted his outstretched hand. He gave it a squeeze for good measure and then led her out of the restaurant and back to his black BMW Z4.
“What about my car? Shouldn’t I just follow you?” She glanced around for her car in the full parking lot.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring you back to your car later.” Her smile relaxed as he opened the car door for her, and she slid into the grey leather seat.
After shutting her door, Max walked to the driver’s side, folded himself into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. As the air had cooled considerably, he pressed the button for the heated seats before pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.
The girl—he really should remember her name—pulled on her skirt to stretch it back down. It had crept up her leg revealing her smooth, toned thighs underneath.
“Can I turn on some music?”
Max mentally kicked himself. He’d been so distracted with her thighs that he hadn’t realized they were driving in silence. Silence was never good. It let them think. “Of course, whatever you’d like.”
She punched the buttons on the dial a few times before landing on some newer pop music. Inwardly, he cringed–he was more of a hard rock fan himself, but he knew the payout would be worth it.
Fifteen minutes later, he heard the sharp intake of her breath as he pulled into the driveway of his house. While not a mansion, the 4000-foot ranch home was impressive. The craftsman style boasted three slanted roofs, two chimneys, a grey-brick exterior, and a white wraparound front porch. A small working fountain sat in the middle of the circular drive.
“You live here?” The awe was plain in her voice.
He smiled inside. The deal was almost sealed now. “Yeah, it’s a little big for one person, but I hope one day to fill it with a family.”
When she turned back to him, he could almost see the stars in her eyes.
He pulled into the three-car garage and parked next to his Harley Davidson. The third bay contained no vehicle. At least not yet. The garage was neat as Max detested messes, and the few tools he owned meticulously lined the shelves along the wall.
Her heels clicked across the cement floor as he led her to the door into the house. It opened onto a large laundry room with a washer, dryer, and table to fold clothes on. The door from the laundry room led into the hallway. To the left was the kitchen, dining room, and family room. To the right were the bedrooms. Max turned left, leading her to where he had a bottle of wine waiting on the counter. It was yet another tactic he had learned would loosen women up and lower their inhibitions.
The large kitchen was half the size of the first floor of most houses. Stainless steel appliances filled the room, and a marble topped island in a crème color with brown and gold flecks sat predominantly in the middle of the room. A large silver light fixture hung above the island, and a deep sink took up a portion of the space under the light. The island hosted a bottle of red wine and two glasses, and across from the sink four plush barstools covered in black leather lined the island. The cabinets that circled the room were a deep brown, and a large walk-in pantry covered most of the back wal
l, but it was the wine Max focused on.
“Drink?” he asked as he uncorked the bottle and began pouring the glasses.
“Oh, I don’t know if I should. I can’t stay too long. I teach an early class tomorrow.” The hesitation was creeping back into her voice, and her eyes darted around as if she might bolt. It was time to turn up the charm.
Max pushed his lower lip out in a slight pout. “You wouldn’t make me drink alone, would you? Besides, what will one glass hurt?” The glass he extended to her was half full, and he focused his steely blue eyes on her. Many women had told him that his eyes were what drew them in, and Max knew how to use them to his advantage.
Her eyes flickered back and forth, but returned to his gaze, and he knew he had her. “Okay, maybe just one.” Her arm rose and accepted the glass.
“To a wonderful night with a beautiful woman,” he said, clinking her glass ever so slightly. A blush spread across her face, and she dropped her eyes to the murky red liquid as she took a sip. Max was about to suggest they retire to the living room, where his leather couch would be more inviting and conducive to his seduction, when the doorbell rang.
A glance at his watch revealed it was nearly ten p.m. No one he knew should be ringing his bell, and it was too late for solicitors. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said to her, “I’ll be right back.”
As his shoes echoed on the hardwood flooring, he cursed the timing of whoever stood on the other side of the door. He had worked hard to get this woman here, and she had proven more skittish than many before her. If he lost her because of this interruption, there would be retribution.
Max was fully prepared to lash into the unfortunate soul on the other side of the door, but when he swung it open, his heart stopped, and his words failed him. The anger sizzled as if doused like a campfire, and he blinked not believing his eyes.
Chapter 2
“Sarah?”
Though much paler and thinner than the last time he had seen her, Max was almost certain that the woman before him was the only woman he ever loved, the woman he lost three years ago without a word of explanation. Though he had been promiscuous before, it was her disappearance that had sent him into the philandering tailspin he’d been in for the last three years.
“Hi Max, can we come in?”
We? His eyes dropped lower to take in the small child clutching Sarah’s hand in a death grip. She had dark brown hair and large blue eyes. Her daughter? But she didn’t have a daughter when he was seeing her so that meant the girl must have come after she left. Not much longer though. Max was a terrible judge of age, but the child couldn’t be younger than two.
Though every fiber in his body screamed for him to say no, shut the door, and return to his busty blond—who must be getting bored by now—he found himself opening the door wider. “Of course, come on in.” He never could deny Sarah. In fact, though he never told her, he probably would have married her if she hadn’t just up and left him.
Sarah and the little girl crossed over the threshold and stood, staring at him. “Can we go somewhere more comfortable so we can talk?” Sarah asked, tilting her head at him.
“Right, of course.” He shut the front door and led them into the living room, completely forgetting the blond until she stood as they entered.
Her eyes shifted from him to Sarah and the child and back again. “What is this, Maxwell?”
“Uh, this is my friend Sarah, Sarah this is…”
The blonde’s eyes widened as she realized he didn’t know her name. “Seriously? You don’t remember my name?”
Max cringed and shrugged. He should care; he didn’t like getting caught, but Sarah had taken his attention. “Brigitte? Heather? Selena?”
The woman’s face flamed red as her hands curled into fists and jammed into her slim hips. “Those aren’t even close. It’s Margo. I can’t believe you.” She pulled her purse strap tighter on her shoulder and shoved past Max, pausing to turn at the doorway. “Don’t bother walking me out; I can find my own way home.” The angry clomp of her heels echoed on the floor as she stomped to the front door.
Sarah turned her hazel eyes on Max. Her left eyebrow arched on her face. “I see some things haven’t changed.”
“What can I say?” he said, shrugging again. “Women find me irresistible, and there are too many to remember all their names.”
Sarah shook her head back and forth. “I’m not sure this was a good idea.”
“No, wait.” Max’s demeanor straightened as he reached out to stay Sarah. “Tell me why you’re here.”
“Sweetie, why don’t you go in the living room and play while I talk to Max?” The little girl responded with wide eyes and a silent head shake. “Go on, you have your tablet. I’ll be right in here.” Reluctantly, the little girl let go of Sarah’s hand and trudged into the living room. A tattered backpack hung from her thin shoulders.
As Sarah sat in one of the barstools, Max noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks. What had happened to her? He eased himself onto the stool next to her and waited for her to speak.
Sarah’s frail shoulders rose with her inhaled breath, and she forced her eyes to Max’s. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this, but I’m dying. I have anaplastic carcinoma. There’s a cancer hospital in New York that specializes in treatment for my condition, but I’ll be too weak to watch Peyton. You know I have no other family, and”—she looked into the living room where the girl was curled on one of the couches playing a tablet before turning her attention back to Max — “Peyton is your daughter, so I’m hoping you’ll take her in.”
Her words hit him like a truck, shaking any response from his mind. She was dying? He had a daughter? When he could finally wrap his mind around it, the words came out small and quiet. “Why didn’t you tell me about Peyton before?”
She tilted her head at him as if she couldn’t understand why he would even ask that. “Maxwell, you always told me you weren’t one for settling down, and the day I was going to tell you, you told me about your friend Justin being trapped into a relationship with a pregnancy and that he was going to push the woman to have an abortion.”
Maxwell’s eyes dropped. He remembered the conversation. Justin was as much of a philanderer as he was, maybe even more so. Justin had taught him a few trade secrets, and it was true that the few times he had ended up getting a woman pregnant, he forked over the five hundred dollars for the abortion rather than being sucked into a relationship or fatherhood. But Maxwell wouldn’t have pressured Sarah into that, would he have?
“I couldn’t take the chance you would do the same, as I wasn’t strong enough to fight back because I loved you so much. I probably would have agreed just to keep you, and then I would have hated us both, so I left.”
“Does she know?” Max asked, shrugging towards the little girl in the other room. He was still having trouble grasping the gravity of Sarah’s words.
When Sarah smirked, he saw a glimpse of her old playful nature. “That I’m dying or that you’re her father?” Then her face grew serious. “Yes, she knows both. She isn’t excited to be left behind, but she understands I have little choice. It’s either you or foster care, and she is more inclined to try you than a total stranger not related to her.”
“But, Sarah, I’m no role model for a little girl.”
“So I see, but I took that into consideration.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “This is my best friend’s number. She has known Peyton since she was a baby, and she can help you out if you need anything.”
“Then why doesn’t she just take her?” Maxwell didn’t mean for the words to come out as catty as they did, but the thought of being left alone with the little girl—even if she was his—terrified him.
Sarah’s brow furrowed. “Because she is still going to school and can’t afford a full-time nanny. You can. And because you’re her father. I’ve never asked you for anything, but I’m asking you now.” She reached across and clasped Maxw
ell’s hand. “Be a dad. For once in your life, stop thinking about yourself or your next easy woman and think of someone else for a change. Peyton needs you. I need you.”
The words cut him to the quick. Her directness and unwillingness to put up with his crap were two things he loved about Sarah. “You should have told me about her sooner,” he said and found that he meant it.
“You’re right. I should have. We both made some mistakes, but none of those mistakes are Peyton’s fault. She’s a good girl, Max. She’s a lot like you when you aren’t trying to be suave and debonair.”
“I thought you liked my suavity and debonairness,” he said with a crooked, sexy smile.
“No, I hated those two traits. I liked you for the man you are when you take off the masks, and one day, if you can keep those masks off, you’ll find another woman who will feel just as I did.”
Her words sobered him and wiped the smile off his face. “Do you have a chance?”
A small, sad smile played across her lips. “There is always a chance, but it doesn’t look good. The cancer spreads quickly, and we may not have caught it in time. I’m going to give the doctor’s a chance, but at this point, I think it would take a miracle from God.”
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