The Reclusive Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance)

by Lucy McConnell

“Moby Dick’s was always a celebration place. It’s where Grandpa took me when I graduated high school, college, vet school, and the day I opened my office here in town.”

  “Then it’s appropriate that we’re here tonight.”

  “Why? Are we celebrating?”

  “I am.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not every day I get to take out the most beautiful woman in Santa Barbara.” He mentally gagged. You’re a genius for heaven’s sake—try to be original.

  Becca elbowed him lightly in the stomach. “Great line. I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” She batted her eyelashes heavily.

  She’d caught him, but he wasn’t about to let on that he knew he was a total geek. Lucas pressed his hand to his chest in mock horror. “I can assure you I don’t say it to the guys.”

  Becca tipped her head back and laughed. He found that he liked her laughter. She didn’t twitter or hum through her nose as if she were embarrassed to have a good time. Nope, she laughed deeply, really feeling the joy in the moment—something Luke was still learning to do.

  Lucas pulled open the door where they were greeted by a five-foot-tall wheel that could have come from a pirate ship. It was worn and weathered and covered in blue Christmas lights, which seemed odd considering it wasn’t close to Christmas, but somehow it fit in just right with the rest of the décor. The waiting area had nautical wooden benches and the walls were covered in articles and images all having to do with the sea. Also greeting customers was a mounted shark’s head, complete with teeth. The wooden floors were soft with age. The opposite wall running the entire length of the restaurant, was made of thick windows that provided diners with plenty of ocean views.

  A hostess with a cheery disposition directed them to the right where she seated them at a window table. She bounded away to find her next project and was replaced by a server with a faux hawk and a tattoo of a flounder on his neck.

  After a few minutes of perusing the menu, Lucas ordered the Bacon-wrapped Shrimp and Becca ordered the Captain’s Favorite Cod. After the server left, Lucas stared at his water glass, finally asking, “So really, though, how many guys did I beat out for tonight?”

  Becca turned back from watching the sun set and ducked her head. “Just one.”

  “Oh.” Lucas had been joking, but knowing there was another man out there vying for Becca’s time didn’t sit well.

  Becca bit her lip. “Trust me—you were the better option of the two.”

  Interested in the competition and in what gave him an edge, he asked, “Why do you say that?”

  Becca laughed easily. “I’ll take the devil I know versus the one I don’t.”

  Lucas grinned. “Blind date?”

  “I seem to have more than my share of them—especially lately.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re stunning, smart, a business owner . . . you’re quite the catch.” Lucas’s mouth had suddenly gone dry—he took a big swig from his water glass. Dating 101: Do not compare your date to a fish—especially when you’re eating fish.

  Becca didn’t take offense. “Thanks. I do get asked out by clients occasionally, but it rarely turns out well.”

  “Why’s that?”

  The server appeared and they paused for a moment as their food was placed before them. “Thank you,” Lucas said. “Please, continue,” he nodded to Becca curious as to her dating history and mishaps.

  “Mostly we end up talking about their pet, and the guy fishes for free vet advice, which I freely give because I can’t stand the idea of an animal suffering.”

  Jerks.

  She sighed. “How about you?”

  “I’m married to my lab—or I was.” He cringed and took another drink. She already knows who I am; there’s no point in trying to talk myself up. “I could have dated women from the office, but interoffice romances are never a good idea.”

  “Not even your assistant?”

  Luke chuckled. “She already bosses me around, so there’s no point in taking her home and making it official.”

  Becca laughed. “She bosses you around?”

  Lucas grinned. “She pretty much runs my life. I wouldn’t have been able to find the harbor without her sending directions to my phone.”

  Becca tipped her head and considered him. “Your mind is probably on more important things than doing laundry and paying bills.”

  Lucas leaned back in his seat. She got him. He was the quintessential absentminded professor who muttered formulas in the elevator and dreamed of molecules. Most women ran screaming when they saw his apartment for the first time: pants that had been dropped wherever he was standing when he took them off, his toothbrush on the counter instead of in a cup, dirty dishes piled in the sink, notes tucked in with the DVDs. Juanita kept him organized and functional.

  “There is that—but in reality, there was never anyone interesting enough to ask out.” He brushed his fingers across her arm. “Until now.” He hadn’t meant to throw that last bit out there. Touching her had sent a jolt up his arm that apparently went straight to his tongue.

  Becca tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up at him through lowered lashes. Lucas took a chance and took her hand in his. She gave him a little squeeze that let him know she was glad. Luke’s chest warmed. Despite his nervousness, things were going well.

  A heavy hand fell on Lucas’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from his captivating dinner partner.

  “So this is where you disappeared to. Lucas Scott, the reclusive billionaire.”

  Lucas reluctantly twisted in his seat and acknowledged the interloper. “Steven. It’s good to see you.” Lucas’s throat began to close off; he gripped Becca’s fingers. She returned the pressure, lending silent support. “What are you doing here?”

  Steven jerked his chin out, which was hard to do considering his massive overbite. “Without a paycheck, I had to move in with my daughter and her husband. We’re celebrating her birthday tonight.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your troubles,” replied Lucas. Shutting down the team wasn’t an easy decision, and he lived the aftershocks every time he turned on the news or heard the death tally.

  “You should be. It’s your fault.”

  Thunder rumbled outside. Lucas released Becca and pushed his chair out to stand. “Hey now. We—”

  Pain exploded as Steven’s fist connected with Lucas’s cheek. Lucas’s head snapped back, grunting he staggered into the table. Becca cried out as she was covered in ice water, cod, and tartar sauce. She stood there with her dress soaked. Lucas saw red. He balled his fists and clenched his jaw.

  Becca shook her head, letting him know that it wasn’t worth the fight. He disagreed—she was very much worth fighting for—but he held back. This was her town, her restaurant full of beautiful memories, and he didn’t want to soil it any more than he already had.

  Steven stepped up so they were toe to toe. Lucas could count the pockmarks on his face. “We’re not even close to even. But man that felt good.” Steven shook out his hand as he wandered out the front door.

  “I’m so sorry.” Lucas reached for Becca who was soaking a cloth napkin in a cup of water.

  She wrung it out and applied it to his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her, loving the way she fit next to him. He couldn’t even feel the pain in his face, not when he was holding her. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But your dress . . .”

  Becca shrugged. “I have others.” She stared up at him as her gentle hands checked him for injury.

  Luke brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She was absolutely amazing—so calm in the middle of the chaos he called life.

  Becca placed her delicate hand on his good cheek. “Hey.” She bit her lip, her eyes filled with compassion.

  Despite being clocked, Lucas felt like the luckiest guy in the world. He took the napkin from Becca and tossed it on the table before brushing his thumb over her lips. Becca’s eyes drifted shut. She sighed into him as Luke le
aned down to kiss her.

  “Folks, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” said their server.

  Great timing.

  Lucas silently cursed and nodded numbly. So close to Becca’s lips that he could almost taste them. Suddenly, he was aware of the many sets of eyes watching him and Becca. She stepped back, ducking her head to avoid contact with the other patrons.

  Luke hadn’t been in a fight before, nor had he ever been asked to leave a restaurant. A feeling of shame and embarrassment overcame him. He took Becca’s hand and tucked her behind him so the man holding up his iPhone wouldn’t get her in the shot.

  Straightening up to his full six-foot-one height, he walked them to the hostess’s stand where he paid for the food they didn’t get to eat. As they waited for his credit card to clear, a phone camera flashed. His stomach dropped, knowing his time being anonymous was limited.

  Once outside, he ushered Becca to the end of the pier where they could stare out at the water that churned with the breeze and sent angry bursts at them every few minutes. Out here, he could pretend that the world really was behind them.

  “Is it really your fault?” Becca asked. She struggled with her wrap.

  Lucas took a moment to untangle the soft fabric. His palms grazed her shoulders as he slid it over her soft skin. Becca shivered and leaned back against him.

  Lucas concentrated on relaxing his hand and neck muscles. Going out was such a bad idea. He should have stayed locked away in his cabin until the end of time. In fact, he was considering doing just that. “I don’t take the blame for Steven’s lack of financial planning. If he’d been half as smart with his money as he was in the lab, he’d still have his three homes. But I do feel responsible for taking away his source of income. That wasn’t ever part of the plan.” Nothing had gone according to plan. He should stop making plans all together. “I’m sorry I brought you out here tonight.”

  She flipped around to search his face. The pale yellow glow from a weak lamp reflected the uncertainty in her eyes. “You’re sorry?”

  He wasn’t sorry about spending time with her, just sorry that things had turned out badly. “You deserve—”

  She placed a finger over his lips, cutting him off. Her eyes darted from his eyes to his lips. Questions spun about in her head, he could see them in the slight dip of her eyebrows. “Tell me about your sister.”

  Out here in the semidarkness, with the whole sea rolling along under their feet and no one around, Luke felt safe enough to talk about Brianna. Holding Becca was like holding a life preserver. He could jump into the deepest, darkest waters knowing she would keep him safe. “Brianna was pretty great. I think she grew up feeling lonely because it was just me and her for a long time. Our parents died when she was just eighteen and I was twelve. She was wicked smart.” He tightened his hold in fear. He wanted to tell her everything, wanted Becca to understand what had really happened. “She said Tyler and I were her last hope, that she believed in us.” His voice caught, he couldn’t confess the rest.

  “You couldn’t have known.” Becca put her hands on his forearms, her touch exciting and comforting at the same time. Never had a woman filled him with such amazing contradictions.

  “I knew.” He dropped his arms and stepped back. “That’s why I refused to give her the drug. I knew it wasn’t ready.”

  Ever the quick mind, Becca asked, “Wait, if you refused, then how did she get it?”

  Lucas dropped his head. The secret he’d been carrying for weeks now burned in his chest like an acid spill.

  “Luke?” Becca pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders as a breeze swept in and threw her hair into her face.

  He didn’t have to tell her. He could brush it aside and never mention it again. If he did, there would always be this thing between them, a wedge that could potentially drive them apart.

  “Tyler administered it,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the growing wind.

  Becca pushed her hair back, her eyes thoughtful. “But everyone says you did.” She lowered her brow. “You might go to prison for this.”

  He’d contemplated the consequences for about thirty seconds. “Tyler has three kids who need him. I don’t have anyone.”

  Becca closed the distance between them and slid her arms around his neck. “That’s not true.” She tugged him down bringing their lips together in a tender and tentative kiss.

  Splaying his palms across her back, Luke pulled her against him. Her kisses were sweet and full of the joy she so easily displayed. Luke drank in every bit, but it only left him thirsting for more.

  He had no idea how long he had until that picture got out, until the barracuda found him, until she turned this haven into Hades. He’d have to go—leave before he poisoned the harbor. It was the honorable and right thing to do. He just didn’t know if he’d be strong enough. Maybe just a few more days with Becca.

  Thunder boomed overhead, startling them apart. Luke surveyed the foreboding clouds. “We’re going to have to make a run for it.” He took her hand and they sprinted over the uneven timbers.

  Rounding the corner they reached the sidewalk where the wet sand slowed them to a light jog. Becca’s hair whipped across her face and she clutched his fingers to keep from falling. Luke held tight as a cold burst shoved Becca towards the street and almost pulled them apart. Straining, Luke tightened his hold. Since the moment he’d met Becca Lee, forces beyond their control were pulling them apart and flinging them together again like a wicked riptide. Luke tucked her next to him. He wasn’t giving up that easily. Clinging together, they pressed on, Luke doing his best to shield her with his body.

  Palm trees lashed back and forth overhead, branches snapping and flinging into the night. Rain tinged with salt hit their shoulders and stung their cheeks. They reached the gate and Luke pressed his fob against the lock. All around them boats strained against their tie-downs as they bobbed up and down. Huge waves crashed against the breakwater, booming like cannons and shooting water twenty feet into the air.

  “Be safe!” yelled Becca over the noise. Her hand slipped out and she darted to her home. Luke watched her go, shielding his eyes against the downpour, shocked at how much warmth Becca’s small body had yielded. In her absence, his core shook and his bones ached with the cold. There was more to his shivering than a loss of body heat. When Becca left, she took her sunshine with her. Without a doubt, Lucas needed her in his life. He just wasn’t sure how he could build a life with sunshine and protect her from the darkness he’d run away from. Because, his old life was creeping up on him.

  12

  The next morning, the clouds had moved on to another part of the country leaving the harbor disheveled but calm. Palm fronds leaned up against the fence, ripped from the trees and propped there by the storm. Boat owners crowded the pier, checking their riggings and assessing if there was any damage.

  Luke debated knocking on Becca’s door for a full half hour. Wasn’t there a rule about not calling a woman right after a date? And why was that a rule? Did women think a man was stalking them? Did they want their space? Or had it been thought up by men who decided they didn’t want to project desperation?

  As the night before played through his head, he groaned. Worst. Date. Ever. Except the kiss at the end, that is. He was such an idiot. After being thrown out of Moby Dick’s, he should have walked her home, said goodbye, then hopped into his day boat and disappeared. Instead he’d confessed a lie then rushed her home in a torrent of lightning and rain. They hadn’t even said a proper goodnight, each of them diving for cover on their own boats.

  He oscillated between begging her forgiveness and promising never to darken her door again. He checked his cheek in the mirror; a dark purple bruise glared back at him. He supposed it could have been worse. Steven was more of a scientist than he was a prizefighter. Thanks to the guy’s underused muscles, Lucas’s cheekbone and sinuses were still intact. Fat lot of good that would do him if Becca slammed her door in his face.

 
The wood planking was warm and smooth beneath his bare feet as he bit the bullet and approached her entry, his heart threatening to pound right out of his chest. His indecision and turmoil were pointless, because when he finally squared his shoulders and knocked, Becca wasn’t home. She’d mentioned something about a cat with a broken leg and, knowing her, she was taking care of the animal.

  Restless and pent up, Luke decided to take a walk. He put a hat on to hopefully shield his face from curious strangers. It was probably a good thing Becca wasn’t there to see him. Though she’d kissed him—and what a kiss it was—he doubted she would agree to a second date. Bad pickup lines, getting sucker punched, and then being thrown out of the restaurant all added up to a pathetic excuse for a romantic evening.

  He also worried about that picture that had been taken as they left the restaurant. His anonymity had a time limit and Lucas wasn’t ready to see it disappear. He’d enjoyed becoming Luke, a guy with nowhere to go and no one relying on him to save the world. A man who could ask a woman out without her fawning all over his bank account.

  Actually, Becca wasn’t the type to worry about his credit limit, or lack of one. She took so much of his life, his personality, and his quirks in stride that he couldn’t help but think she was the diamond in his rough life. What would it be like to wake up to that kind of love every morning? Not to mention a set of beautiful almond-colored eyes.

  “You want the tacos, hey man?”

  Lucas jolted from his daydreams to find himself outside the Fresh Catch Café at the end of the pier. Bear wasn’t shoving a lobster in his face this time, but Luke wouldn’t mind shoving a few of those shrimp tacos in his gullet. “Bring ’em on.” Luke rubbed his belly.

  “Right—you have good taste.” Bear nodded approval.

  “I’ll be at my usual table.” Luke pointed to the other side of the building.

  Bear waved his acknowledgement.

  About ten minutes later, with a plate of hot tacos before him, the smell of lime and garlic wafting up in a tantalizing aroma, Luke finally started to feel better about things.