The Brazen Billionaire

by Elana Johnson

  “About talking to Fisher DuPont. You know, about doing something with The Straw.”

  “Oh, right.” He flicked her a glance out of the corner of his eye. “So I didn’t mess up too badly in suggesting it?”

  Her defenses went right up, but she bit back anything she might have said. “No,” she said slowly. “I maybe just needed some time to get used to the idea. I don’t want to rush into things, not anymore.”

  He slid his hand around her waist and held her securely against his body. “I know.” He pressed his lips to her temple, and she leaned into the touch. “I’ll talk to Fisher. See when he’s available.”

  “I was thinking—” She cut off, not wanting to be rude, not wanting him to think she was just using him. “Maybe I could have his contact information? Call him myself? I’ll mention you, say it was your idea, all of that.” She trusted Jasper; she did. He’d had a good idea, and she didn’t want to dismiss it simply because it came from him and wasn’t something she’d thought of.

  But it had taken all week for her to get to that point, to work through everything. With Newt, she’d never done that, and it felt good to be listening to her heart and gut properly again.

  “Do you want to go surfing in the morning?” he asked.

  She almost tripped on the smooth sand and fell down. “Surfing?”

  “I offered to teach you and you never responded.”

  “I don’t have any gear.”

  “I’ll bring everything you need.” He somehow brought her closer, though Sasha felt the entire length of his body against hers with every step. “I usually go at night—about now, actually. But for your first time, it’s probably best to go in the light.”

  The thought of surfing in the dark sent fear straight through her. “I’m not much of an ocean fan,” she said.

  “But you just said you loved the bay.”

  “I like the sight of it. I like the smell of it. I like laying on the sand in the sun. I don’t actually get in the water that often. It…kind of freaks me out.”

  Jasper laughed, the sound happy but fading quickly. “Why?”

  “I can’t see under the surface. And there are things down there.”

  “Things,” he repeated, a teasing quality in his voice she liked.

  “Slimy things like seaweed and fish.” She exaggerated a shiver.

  He nudged her toward the water, and after several steps, the surf washed over her feet. Only an inch or two of water, and it was warmer than the sand she walked on.

  Jasper slowed until he stopped, both of them standing in the gentle wash. “I love the ocean,” he said. “The way it never gets tired of trying to come ashore. The sound of it, the smell, letting it push and pull me. It’s very calming.”

  She listened to the water, breathed in the scent of it, and let the peace of it push and pull through her too. “I see what you mean.”

  He let out a long sigh that spoke of contentment, and said, “I’d very much like to kiss you now. Doable?”

  Her heart stalled altogether, but a nervous giggle leaked from her lips.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Do you just say everything you’re thinking?”

  “Usually.” He stepped in front of her and took both of her hands in his. “Is that a problem for you?”

  She gazed up at him, the moon in front of her and casting his face in silver shadows. “Not really.” She liked that he wasn’t playing games. That she didn’t have to try to figure out how he felt.

  “I did want to talk to you about something you texted this week,” he whispered.

  But Sasha was already tipping up onto her toes for that kiss. “Can it wait?” Her lips touched his for one tiny moment, barely a heartbeat of time passed before she put an inch between them.

  “Definitely.” His breath wafted across her cheek and then he slid both hands around her and pulled her flush against him for a proper kiss. He was as brazen with the motion of his mouth against hers as he was with what he said, and Sasha didn’t mind. Not one little bit.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jasper couldn’t believe his reality was kissing a beautiful woman while the surf lapped at his ankles. All kinds of things that had long been dormant were awakening inside him, and he didn’t quite know how to grapple with them.

  So he just kept kissing Sasha, the gesture becoming more fervent, faster, fiery, until he slowed the movement, turning it tender again.

  He finally pulled away and tucked her against his chest while his pulse thundered in his chest. Neither of them said anything, and the moment burned in his mind, searing into his memory where he knew he’d never forget it.

  “What about hiking tomorrow?” she whispered against his collarbone. “Instead of surfing. I need to work myself up to that.”

  “Is that why you didn’t answer me when I offered to teach you?”

  She took a few seconds before she answered. “I’m sure I just got busy. I don’t remember specifically deciding to ignore you.” She stepped back a foot and lifted her fingers to his hair. He thrilled as she moved them behind his ear and along the back of his neck. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Jasper tore his eyes from hers, needing a moment to organize his thoughts after that heated kiss. “It was about…you said you thought maybe we were too different.”

  She started to move away again, but he held her in place close to him. “I…I thought about a lot of things this week.”

  “I can see that. I enjoy the texts.” He smiled so she’d know he wasn’t mad. Or even close to upset. They were just talking. He reminded himself that she’d come from a bad relationship and was still paying the price of it.

  “I don’t think we’re that different,” he said.

  “You’re rich. I’m not.”

  “So what?”

  She shrugged. “It’s just a difference.”

  “We both like dogs, and smoothies, and the bay. And pizza, and Spam rolls, and Mama Chu’s, and—”

  “All right.” She laughed and tipped up to kiss him again. “I like kissing you.”

  “Another similarity.” He grinned down at her. “And hiking. I like hiking.”

  “Me too.” She started walking again, keeping her footsteps along the edge of the water. “But you do work all night, and I work all day. Makes it hard to have any time together. That was all I was thinking.”

  “I think we’re managing okay.” His looming trip to Switzerland flashed through his mind, but he kept it quiet. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I think we are.”

  Frankie pulled on the leash, and Jasper wanted to let him off. But the trail they hiked was a popular one and he and Sasha and Frankie weren’t the only ones on it. The dog would have to deal with being tethered to him.

  “I’ll take him.” Sasha paused and he passed the leash to her. Frankie seemed happier about that and he stayed right by her side.

  Jasper shook his head. “Traitor,” he muttered as they started hiking again. All around them, the lush tropical forests of Hawaii bloomed. Though it was only the beginning of February, everything was still green and beautiful.

  He’d leave for Switzerland on Monday morning, after his usual business overseas. He rarely saw Sasha during the week, and he expected the trip to be so quick he’d be back by the weekend.

  He took a breath of the hot, humid, floral air and enjoyed every moment it took for them to get to the Pe’epe’e Falls. They’d already seen Rainbow Falls, but they’d come too late in the morning to actually see the rainbows.

  Not a lot of people continued on for the next mile and a half to the next falls, but Sasha had wanted to. Jasper didn’t mind. It became less and less crowded as those who’d arrived in time for the rainbows that morning had already been to Pe’epe’e and were making their way back now.

  The banyan trees were beautiful as was the Waikulu River. They finally arrived, and Jasper took his bottle of water out and took a long drink. There was quite a bit of water coming o
ver the falls, and no one was swimming in the Boiling Pots, the swimming holes at the bottom of the falls.

  In fact, at least half a dozen signs warned people from doing that. Sometimes, if the water was low, swimming was okay, but the pools weren’t called Boiling Pots for no reason.

  “Can he swim?” Sasha looked back at Jasper, her hand poised on the dog’s leash.

  “He’ll probably be okay.” Frankie was a champion swimmer, and he bounded into the water as soon as Sasha unclipped him. Jasper smiled at the goldendoodle’s exuberance and he pulled out an apple and offered it to Sasha.

  “We should’ve brought lunch.” She perched on a rock and took a bite of the apple.

  “I thought we were going to lunch.”

  She swallowed and smiled. “Yeah. I just like eating here, listening to the water for while.”

  “Well, we can stay as long as you want.” He stretched his back and pulled out his own apple, keeping his eyes on Frankie so the dog wouldn’t go too far into the pools. It was peaceful at the falls, and after about ten minutes, they were alone.

  “I’m going to Switzerland on Monday,” he said. “I’ll be back on Thursday night. Late.”

  She met his eyes. “Oh?”

  “I just need to tend to a few family things.” He wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, though he did love seeing his mother. His father would ask him too many questions and demand he do things the way they’d always been done. But Jasper knew businesses didn’t thrive that way. They had to change with the times, with the technology, with the trade, or they got left behind.

  His father hadn’t had to live through a period of great change, but Jasper was. Fisher’s simulations for the storm about six months back proved that, and Jasper had been working with him on a robot that would help find diamonds below the Earth’s surface without disturbing the environment with bulldozers and big holes.

  “My father can be quite demanding,” he admitted. “I love him, don’t get me wrong. But…well, sometimes he still thinks he’s in charge.”

  Sasha leaned against him and said, “My dad didn’t want me to start The Straw. I did it anyway. I think he’s still disappointed I didn’t go to college, all these years later.”

  “I suppose most parents want big things for their kids.”

  “Yeah.”

  He enjoyed the weekend with her, especially their last kiss together, where he pressed her into the door of The Straw, the scent of oranges and raspberries hanging the air, her hair, everywhere.

  His nerves fired on all cylinders as he waited to board the plane on Monday morning, his mouth turning dry. Oh, how he hated flying, even as much as he’d done it over the years. It never got any easier, and he felt feverish and chilled at the same time as he had his e-ticket scanned on his phone and went down the jetway.

  He had a seat in first class, but the extra width and longer leg room couldn’t erase the fact that he’d be forty thousand feet in the air, above a huge body of water, for hours. Panic reared, and he worked to tamp it down by singing a childhood rhyme his mother had soothed him with.

  As other passengers continued to stream past him, seemingly without a care in the world, he managed to switch out the song lyrics for thoughts of Sasha. He relived that last kiss and the several others they’d shared. A smile graced his face, and while he gripped the armrests on takeoff, he managed to find sleep as he flew across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe.

  Hours later, he finally got out of the taxi cab in front of the cottage his parents had purchased in Bern. The house looked like something out of a Swiss magazine, complete with the icicles dripping off the pitched roof.

  He stood for a moment in the cold, the difference between Bern and Hawaii stark and freezing. At least Jasper had remembered to pack a coat, and he pulled it tighter around his throat as he moved toward the quaint front door his mother had painted red the second week after they’d moved into the cottage.

  The front door opened before he could mount the few steps, and his father filled the doorway. “Joan, Jasper’s here.” He turned back to his son and smiled. “Come in, come in. It’s freezing out here.”

  Jasper couldn’t agree more, and he hastily stepped inside the house, which carried the scent of gingerbread as well as all the warmth in the world.

  “Jasper.” His mother appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen, her face alight with joy. She brushed her hands on her apron and said, “How was the flight?”

  “Horrible,” he said, moving through the small front room that housed his mother’s prized piano and a pair of recliners with a round table between them. “But I survived.” Out of the billions of people on the earth, only his mother knew of his extreme fear of flying. Even his father didn’t know, and Jasper wanted to keep that number at two.

  His mother’s arms came around him, and Jasper relaxed into the embrace. It had been months since he’d seen his parents in the flesh, and the scent of flour and fruity perfume filled his nose, so familiar and so comforting, Jasper was glad to have made the day-long trip halfway across the globe.

  “Something smells good,” he said, his stomach reminding him that he’d been too anxious to eat anything while he traveled. He needed a bit of that brazenness Sasha was always commenting on, especially if he was to deal with his father tonight.

  “I made that chicken and wild rice soup you love,” she said. “Come into the kitchen.”

  He went with her and found a tray of bread rolls rising on the small dining room table in the corner. “Mom, this all looks great.”

  And thankfully, his father allowed him to settle at the bar and chat with his mother until the bread was baked and the soup served. In fact, Jasper got the whole evening to just be, and he enjoyed it more than he’d thought he would.

  When morning came, though, his dad already had several folder’s worth of documents across the table where they’d eaten the night before.

  “Morning, Dad.” Jasper poured himself a cup of coffee, wondering how they got it to be so rich in Switzerland and sat in the vacant chair opposite his dad.

  “Morning.” His father looked over the top of his reading glasses. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Well enough.” Jasper had learned over the years that an answer of “well enough” got him through most conversations. He’d actually slept like the dead and woken with the thought of bringing Sasha to this picturesque country on their honeymoon.

  Honeymoon.

  That word had nearly sent him right back into a tailspin, and he couldn’t live another day in the turmoil he endured when he had to fly. So he’d showered and taken a few extra minutes to shave before facing his father.

  His mother had not asked if Jasper was dating, but he fully expected the question before he left. With both of his sisters already married, Jasper was definitely the late bloomer and odd man out.

  “Well, these all look like they’re in order,” his father said, drawing Jasper away from the snow falling outside the window.

  “I told you they were.” Jasper lifted the mug to his lips and sipped, trying to keep his impatience out of his voice.

  “I have someone I want you to meet with,” his dad said.

  “Who?” Jasper had spent more time in meetings than he cared to catalog, his general loathing for them rearing its head.

  “Dominique Accola. She’s an investment banker out of Zurich.”

  “I have bankers, Dad.” Jasper set his coffee mug on the table and crossed his legs.

  “I sent her these documents and she’s agreed to help us.”

  “We don’t need help.” He glanced toward the mouth of the hallway that led to the two bedrooms, noting that his mother had not stirred yet that morning. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Oh, she likes to sleep in these days.” His dad shuffled a few pages. “Dominique is expecting you at ten o’clock this morning.”

  Jasper gave an exaggerated sigh and met his father’s eye. “Dad.”

  The older man wouldn’t relent, as Jasper
could see by the flint in his father’s expression. “I just want her to educate you on the tax laws here.”

  “I have people who’ve already done that. It was not my fault the wrong paperwork was filed.”

  “Who’s fault was it?” His dad’s eyebrows cocked in an arrogant, annoying way.

  “A box was simply left unchecked.” Jasper stood, his appetite for coffee gone. He was sure Bern had much to offer in the way of delicious pastries, and he shrugged into his coat. “I’m going to go grab some breakfast. Want anything?”

  “Ten o’clock,” his father answered, and Jasper exited the house, wondering if Sasha would be busy at eight p.m. on a Tuesday night. He decided to dial her anyway, even if all he could do was listen to her voicemail.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sasha tried not to think about Jasper every second of every day. Sometimes she succeeded, and sometimes she wondered if she’d put in the right amount of lemon zest or too much almond extract.

  No drinks came back, so she figured she hadn’t done too bad of a job. She wasn’t cleaning for Jasper that week, and the extra time in bed had been so luxurious she’d considered quitting. But the money was easy, especially when she got to kiss him before she left.

  He’d called and texted a few times, and his last one had said, I’m going to stay for a couple of extra days. The weather is supposed to be bad here, and they’ll cancel the flights anyway. Sorry, sweetheart.

  Sweetheart had burned itself into her retinas, and she could still see it there when she went to work on Friday morning. A drink—her brother’s special—did come back, and that was when Sasha wiped her hands on a white towel and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” to Maddy.

  She stepped out of the shack and onto the beach, the sand warm though the sun wasn’t particularly strong that day. She texted Stacey, Esther, Tawny, and Winnie, trying to keep the desperation out of the order of the words.

  Jasper isn’t coming back right away. Beach today?

  Will he miss Valentine’s Day? she wondered but refused to put in the text. Her friends would ask her anyway, and as her phone buzzed and beeped, she couldn’t help smiling at their friendship and support.