The TROUBLE with BILLIONAIRES: Book 2

by Kristina Blake

  I cocked an eyebrow, determined to test that theory.

  “Are you an only child?”

  “As far as I know.” He smiled softly. “My mother insists that my father was a philandering bastard in his youth, but he swears the moment he met my mother all that went flying out the window.”

  “And you grew up in Dallas—”

  “South Lake, actually.”

  “South Lake. Did you play football?”

  “Of course. I’m a good Texan.”

  I laughed. “We’re you good?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “Not as good as my father would have liked, but I did well enough to follow the team to State two years in a row.”

  I inclined my head in a mock congratulatory salute. “And then college.”

  “College was pretty rocky. I discovered independence, and that can be a very dangerous thing for a young man with a trust fund.”

  “What kind of trouble did you get into? Girls? Drugs? Alcohol?”

  “Take all that and add in a little bit of a gambling addiction, and you have all six years of my college experience.” He smiled at the look on my face that must have shown some of my incredulity. “I’m telling you, I was a stupid, immature fool during that time.”

  “But then you met Aurora.”

  He inclined his head, his expression growing serious. “I met Aurora, and she was so aware of what it was she wanted out of life that I couldn’t help but grow up a little bit.”

  “But the gambling continued,” I said, recalling what Rawn had told me.

  “No. I stopped it all when I met Aurora. Buckled down, finished my studies, and followed her to Portland, starting the PR firm mostly because I wanted to prove to her that I was as serious about my future as she was. We married a year later…shared three blissful years together.”

  Conrad pulled his hand from mine and shifted in his chair, dragging his butter and crawfish-covered fingers through his hair. “And then…she used to travel a lot for Cepheus, charming inventors into selling their wares to the company. During a few of those trips, she had flings. She didn’t think anything of it, thought I would understand. I didn’t.”

  I saw pain on his face, like it was all still fresh. It made me wonder how much of it he had allowed himself to deal with. Madison told me that they must have had a pretty amicable break-up because they still worked together and still got along rather well. But the pain that was playing in the shadows under his eyes made me wonder just how amicable it really was.

  On Conrad’s part, anyway.

  “I fell apart,” he admitted. “She didn’t seem to care either way, whether I stayed or I left. And that indifference made it worse. To her, marriage was companionship. To me, it was trust and commitment, all the things she seemed to spit on with her little flings. So I left, went to Vegas, and made quite a fool of myself at the blackjack tables.” He shook his head now as the memory played through his mind. “Rawn found me there and forced me to see what I was doing. He took me home and made me meet with this psychologist who specializes in addiction. For a month, he kept me a virtual prisoner in my parents’ house, forced me to work the steps, and made me fix what she broke. That’s why I owe—owed—him so much.”

  “Why did you go back to Portland?”

  Conrad picked up another crawfish and picked at the tender meat of its belly. “My company was there. My friends. I was determined not to let Aurora ruin everything I had worked for in those few years we were together. And, over time, she and I were able to find a way to be friends.”

  “And then she got sick.”

  Conrad’s shoulders stiffened. He nodded, but the expression on his face made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in talking about it.

  But I had to push the issue.

  “How much longer do you think she can hide it?”

  “I didn’t tell you about her so that you could keep pushing me to ruin her career.” He dropped the crawfish and stood. “We should go.”

  “Conrad, I just think that Rawn—”

  “Enough!” He spun around on his heel, his eyes flashing in the moonlight. “I won’t have this argument with you again. Not now. Not this weekend.”

  “Okay.” I slowly stood up, swallowing words of frustration, of protest, and instead moving into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin things.”

  “You could never ruin things.” He ran his hand slowly up and down the length of my spine. “I just…I don’t want to dwell on all that now.”

  He kissed my forehead lightly and led the way through the empty restaurant and back to the chauffeured car that would take his to his newly refueled jet for the flight back to Corpus Christi. And a weekend of endless pleasure.

  ***

  Monday came all too soon. Conrad pulled me into the shower with him and rubbed silky, rose-scented soap into my skin, washed my hair with bubbles scented with some sort of lavender oil, and conditioned it with something that left it full and tame like nothing I had ever tried before. He took better care of me than I could ever take of myself.

  The flight back to Portland was silent. We didn’t speak because I think we both knew what we needed to say and neither of us was ready for that. I was to check Memaw into the assisted living center at three o’clock. Richard had arranged to meet me there, as neither of us saw much point in me returning to the house. I couldn’t take anything with me. I couldn’t say goodbye to anyone, and I couldn’t call up my friends and tell them I was going on an extended vacation—a lie that I probably couldn’t have told very well, anyway. I couldn’t even quit my job—though I’m sure Russell had taken care of that for me when I didn’t show up and didn’t call this morning.

  So, what was the point in talking?

  “What are the chances that Johnny Duprey’s lieutenant will just give up on you?”

  “I’ve wondered that a few times. But Richard assures me the moment they feel the danger has passed, they will let me know.”

  “Duprey is dead. Did you know that?”

  I glanced at him. “No. How did you know?”

  “I did an internet search on him a couple of days ago. He died of cancer, apparently.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I said again. “But I don’t imagine it changes anything. He wasn’t the one trying to find me and Memaw. His men—the ones who blamed my uncle for the demise of their income, ones who only got a little time or no time at all—were the threat.”

  Conrad nodded. “I read that most of them were gone, too. Absorbed into other criminal enterprises or arrested for other things.”

  “The ones anyone knew anything about.”

  That was the problem with this whole thing. My uncle turned in evidence on Johnny and his men, the ones he had contact with and could prove, from firsthand knowledge, had engaged in illegal activity. But there were others, people my uncle never met and never heard about who were connected to Johnny and his criminal activities—people even the FBI had little or no information about. It was these people Memaw and I were on the run from, as much as the others—the ones my uncle’s testimony put out of business.

  We could be targets for the rest of our lives.

  Conrad landed the plane at the same airport from which we took off. Will was waiting on the tarmac, a pleased smile on his face when he patted the nose of the plane like he was welcoming home a good friend.

  “Have a good trip?”

  Conrad nodded, handing Will his aviation books and the paperwork that had to be filled out with each flight. “You’ll take care of everything?”

  “Of course,” Will said much too cheerfully. “You go. Don’t worry about us.”

  Conrad helped me down out of the plane and led me, with an arm around my waist, to his waiting car.

  “What if I could protect you?” he asked suddenly, as he maneuvered the car in and out of lunchtime traffic. “What if I hired guards to go everywhere with you, if I made sure that no one could ever get close to you?”

  “What kind of l
ife would that be?”

  “You would be here, with me.”

  “And what if we broke up? Would you really want to continue paying for me to be guarded?”

  “That wouldn’t happen.”

  “What if it did?”

  He glanced at me even as he accelerated around a minivan. “Are you planning to break up with me?” he asked with that cocky grin that made me want to kiss him—or slap him.

  “Conrad, we have to be realistic about this. The Marshals Service knows what they’re doing, and if they say it is too dangerous for me to stay here, they mean it.”

  “But I could protect you.”

  “And put yourself in danger, too.” I shook my head. “I can’t allow that. I’ve already lost too much.”

  He laid a hand on my thigh. “I know. That’s why I don’t want you to have to leave again.”

  I ran my hand over his, telling myself that now was the time to be strong. And, really, it wasn’t as hard as I had imagined it would be.

  It was only everything.

  “We had a good time. But it’s over now, and I have to go. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

  Conrad was quiet as he drove like a maniac the last few miles to Memaw’s house. Even after he pulled to the curb, he didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t let go of my leg.

  “It was more than that,” he finally said. “At least give me that much.”

  I leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. He turned to capture my lips, but I pulled away. I couldn’t bear the idea of kissing him one last time because I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. One kiss would lead to another, and…it would just be that much more difficult to get out of this car.

  “Forget about me,” I said softly. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”

  I climbed out of the car before he could say anything else, tears blinding me as I took the front steps of the house two at a time.

  The old adage, better said than done, had never been truer.

  ***

  Christy was waiting for me in the living room, Memaw’s belongings boxed up and waiting in a neat pile by the front door. My heart twisted a little in my chest.

  At least she got to hold on to her things this time.

  “She’s bathed and waiting upstairs.”

  “Thank you.”

  Christy stood and twisted the key to our front door off her key ring, holding it out to me. “It truly was a pleasure to work for you and your grandmother, Miss Anderson.”

  “Mellissa,” I said. “After all this time, you can call me Mellissa.”

  Christy smiled, but the smile didn’t go all the way to her eyes. I was a little surprised to see that there were tears there and to recognize that she was fighting her emotions just as I was mine.

  Impulsively, I threw my arms around her. After a second, her arms came around me, and we stood there in a tight embrace for a long few minutes.

  “Thank you,” I said again. Those words were filled with more emotion than I could express.

  Christy nodded, wiped an errant tear from her cheek, and walked away.

  ***

  Madison

  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go in to work today?”

  I shrugged. “It’s only a half day. Rawn said he needed me to help him to go through the press clips on the 3D telescope so that we could help Conrad design the new ad campaign. Remember? The one Logan is supposed to star in?”

  Annie blushed, a smile coming to her lips. “Oh, yeah. Well, if that’s the case…”

  I laughed as I made my way out of our apartment.

  I got home late last night and I hadn’t seen Rawn yet, so there was a certain amount of anticipation building in my chest as I took the bus—he would totally be pissed if he knew I was taking the bus—and made my way to the office. I needed to stop by Einstein’s office and collect the laptop I’d been using for the last few months. It technically belonged to Rawn’s former assistant, but she hadn’t shown up yet to collect it, so I didn’t see why I couldn’t keep using it until I could save up the money to buy myself a new one.

  Besides, it was an excuse to stop on the lower floor and check in with Mellissa.

  That was, of course, assuming she would be there.

  “Where’s Mellissa?” I asked Russell as I stuck my head in Einstein’s office.

  “Who knows? She didn’t bother to show this morning.”

  “Didn’t she call in?”

  Russell shot me one of those looks I had grown familiar with in the months we worked together. “Do I look like her social secretary?”

  “Okay, okay, don’t bite my head off.”

  I crossed the room to my desk, hoping that Mellissa was off with Conrad somewhere, celebrating the fact that the police dropped all the charges against him, and not sick again. My laptop was on my desk, but the charger was trapped in the tracks of one of the desk drawers. I bent low to pick it up, so I didn’t see her walk into the room. But when she spoke—asking Russell where the extra paperclips were kept—chills ran up and down my spine.

  It was her.

  I couldn’t move. My heart was pounding, my legs refusing to answer the screams of my brain to run. But I managed to catch a glimpse of her through the crack between the two desks.

  No doubt about it. It was her.

  My kidnapper was standing in Einstein’s office.

  ***

  Mellissa

  The halls of the assisted living facility were empty. Most of the residents were either having an early dinner or participating in an art class taking place in the community room. Memaw stared at everything we passed, her eyes lingering on the generic artwork on the walls, the name tags outside each door, and the occasional wheelchair that sat abandoned.

  “What is this place?” she asked for the fourth time.

  “It’s an assisted living center,” I said, slipping my arm through hers. “This is where you’re going to be living from now on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you need more supervision than Christy or I can provide.”

  Memaw’s eyes widened. “Was I bad?” she asked in a loud whisper. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Of course not.”

  I ran my hand over the top of her arm, my heart breaking into more than a million pieces. Billions. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

  “This is your room,” the administrator said, turning toward us and gesturing toward an open door on her left.

  “Here we are, Memaw.”

  I guided her gently through the door, pleased to see they had already placed the quilt on the bed that I had requested Christy send over. Memaw’s eyes brightened when she saw it. She let go of my arm and went immediately to the bed, ran her hands over the brightly colored squares. It wasn’t the same quilt that had adorned her bed back in New Orleans, and her mother’s before that, and her mother’s. But it was similar enough that when I saw it at the Portland Saturday Market, I knew I had to get it for her.

  “This is mine.”

  “Yes.”

  Memaw turned, her eyes moving over the rest of the room. She smiled when she saw the small, flat-screen television attached to the wall. Almost immediately, she picked up the remote and settled in the rocking chair in the corner to watch her shows.

  “You see,” the administrator said in my ear, “she’s going to adjust just fine.”

  I sat with her for a while, but I couldn’t sit still. I unpacked her things, fussed over the quilt and the drapes—tasteful, rose-colored drapes—that hung from the single window. I didn’t want to go; I didn’t want to have to say goodbye. But time was drifting by, and I knew that if I didn’t do it on my own soon, Richard would arrive and force me into it.

  I pulled a chair up to Memaw’s rocker and touched her hand.

  “I have to go now.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “You’re going to be fine here. They’ll take very good care of you and keep you safe.”

  She focused on
my face. “You worry too much, just like your father.”

  I took her hand and pressed my lips to her palm. “I love you, Memaw.”

  “I love you, too, Melli.” She kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you later.”

  No, you won’t.

  But I just smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.”

  I walked slowly across the room, pausing in the doorway to look back at her. She was laughing at something that had happened on the television. “Goodbye,” I whispered.

  The tears waited until I was outside, until I doubled up as I pressed my back to the side of the stone wall. And then it all came, the pain of leaving my grandmother, the grief of leaving a city that I had built a life inside of—again—and the hurt and anger and frustration that came with having found a man like Conrad so soon to the moment my bizarre life decided to turn on its axis again and force me to leave.

  It all came out with hot, heavy tears that had been sitting in my chest for days now. My time with Conrad had pushed it aside, but it never really left. And now it was taking over, destroying what little control I might have had over it.

  Sobs shook my body, a physical pain that made me horribly sick to my stomach. Maybe that was why I didn’t hear her.

  “Look at the little baby cry.”

  I didn’t even understand what she said at first. And then she grabbed my arm and pulled me to a standing position.

  “Are you sad, baby?” she asked. “You should be.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. I thought, this time, I’ll do it myself instead of trusting those morons to grab the right girl.”

  “You? You were behind Madison’s kidnapping?”

  “It was supposed to be you. I figured, two birds, one stone…it would have been the perfect plan if those idiots hadn’t grabbed the wrong girl.”

  “But why?”

  Janet, Einstein’s latest assistant, narrowed her eyes as she stared at me.

  “Your uncle is the reason my brother is dead. So I’m going to be the reason you’re fucking dead.”

  My heart stuttered as I suddenly realized what was happening here. I jerked my arm from her grip and turned, intent on running into the alley, but pain suddenly flared in my back. My nervous system went into overload, and I began to convulse uncontrollably. I went down, the world going gray around me. The last thing I remembered hearing was her laughter from somewhere above me.