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Reining in the Billionaire

Page 13

by Dani Wade


  “About what?” EvaMarie asked, caution leaking into her voice.

  “Why, I’m looking for someone to hire to take care of my place.”

  Surprised, EvaMarie stared for a moment. “Your place?”

  “Yes, child. I had to move here about six months or so ago when I started having some bad back issues. My nephew has been staying at my home since then. Keeping everything in good repair and making sure no one starts thinking it’s empty.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  Mrs. Robinson laughed again. “Well, I paid him to do it. I don’t expect anyone to uproot themselves out of the goodness of their hearts. Plus, the house is a good enough size and filled to the brim with antiques, so there’s always something that needs looking after. But now he’s been offered a really good job in Nashville, and I need someone to take his place.”

  EvaMarie stilled. “You want to pay me to watch over your house?”

  “Well, you’d need to live there. Your parents mentioned you would need to move out of your own situation posthaste. That’s perfect for me. Not that I expect you to give up your normal activities. Just stay on top of things and come out here once a week for us to go over what’s happening and any expenditures.”

  Mrs. Robinson glanced over EvaMarie’s shoulder. “Ah, I see your parents heading this way, so I’ll hurry. Despite what they may say, dear child, there’s no pressure. But if you think you’ll be interested, please let me know soon. You can call the front desk and ask them to transfer your call to my suite.”

  She reached across the table with one frail hand, prompting EvaMarie to take it. “You let me know. All right?”

  EvaMarie had to clear her throat to get her words out. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “My pleasure,” the elderly woman said just as EvaMarie’s glowing parents returned.

  Another fifteen minutes of casual conversation was punctuated by her parents casting pointed glances her way. Somehow EvaMarie managed to ignore them, and Mrs. Robinson gave her a pleased nod as they left. They didn’t even make it around the corner before her mother started in.

  “Isn’t it a wonderful opportunity?” she gushed. “The old Robinson place is one of those gorgeous antebellum homes in the historic district. Very prestigious looking. You couldn’t ask for a better situation.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me taking care of other people’s homes,” EvaMarie asked, the dry question going right over her mother’s head.

  “Don’t be silly, dear. We’d just prefer for you to work for someone whose reputation would enhance your own. Why, this would hardly be work at all.”

  “But I do have obligations right now—”

  “Nonsense,” her father barked. “You don’t owe anything to a cheater. He manipulated you into taking that job.”

  Maybe, but still... “But it was a job that I needed. And I’m grateful for it.”

  Her mother, always eager to soothe over what might turn into an argument, said, “But this would be much less awkward. And you’d start right away. Mrs. Robinson is a lovely lady. This is perfect for you, dear.”

  “What idiot would turn it down?” her father added, probably to combat the resistance he could sense was growing inside her. Or maybe he was just mad that she hadn’t automatically poured gratitude all over Mrs. Robinson and them for the opportunity they’d handed her.

  Take what you want, EvaMarie.

  “I’ll discuss it with her a little more before I decide,” she hedged, a little ashamed that she wasn’t truer to the memory of Mason’s words echoing in her head.

  “What’s to discuss?”

  She tuned out the rest of whatever her father said, a skill she’d long ago perfected.

  Twenty minutes later, when she managed to escape to her car, her ears rang with her parents’ strident insistence that she contact Mrs. Robinson tonight and accept her offer. And even though it smacked of giving in, EvaMarie had to admit that they had a point.

  It would be an easy job that she’d be paid for—a lot easier than overseeing the renovations. She’d have the space and privacy to build her career without interference or worry. And she could put an early end to the probably unhealthy reliance she was developing on Mason’s touch, Mason’s presence.

  So why did the very thought of accepting make her so sad?

  Fourteen

  Mason frowned as he waited one more time for EvaMarie to answer her phone. He’d called twice already—once at dinnertime, then again a couple of hours later. Both calls had gone straight to voice mail.

  If everything hadn’t been just fine when he’d left, he’d think she was avoiding him.

  “Hello?”

  Boy, one breathless word and Mason was wishing away the hundreds of miles between them. How had he become addicted this hard this fast? “Hey,” he replied, his own voice deepening with his desire.

  She didn’t speak, and her very hesitation magnified his uneasiness from earlier. He focused on the sound of her breathing. “How has your day been?” he finally asked.

  Oh, that deep sigh could mean so many things.

  “Well, Jeremy’s crew completed the first-floor tiles.”

  Mason had known the job was next on the list, but he hadn’t expected them to get to it this quickly. “That’s great.”

  “Yes. But I finally had to leave,” she said with a soft chuckle. “I couldn’t handle the sound of them cutting. No matter where I hid, that high-pitched whine chased me down.”

  The noise could be piercing. Not to mention the commotion caused by the extra crew Jeremy had brought in to get the entire floor done quickly. Good thing Mason had been out of town. “So did you ride out to the stream so you could fantasize about me?”

  His little joke didn’t garner him the laugh he was looking for. “Actually, I went to visit my parents.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Mason.”

  How could even her preschool teacher voice sound sexy? “Hey, you know you need someone to brighten your day. I’m just trying to help that along.”

  Her huffy sigh expressed a depth of exasperation that told him his playful mood was not winning him any points. He probably shouldn’t ask if they’d spent the entire time lecturing her on quitting her job. Maybe he’d try a different tactic.

  “I actually did want to talk to you about something.”

  “Really?”

  He grinned as excitement entered her voice, softening the irritation.

  “Yep. Kane and I have a new job for you.”

  “Oh.”

  Mason rushed on, his enthusiasm for their idea pushing to the surface. “We’ve decided to host a big bash at the house. After all, there will be a lot to show off, right? Introduce ourselves to the racing community, entertain in the new spaces downstairs, have a buffet in the formal dining room...” It took a while for him to realize that EvaMarie wasn’t responding. “What do you think?” he demanded.

  “If being seen is what you want, that will make a big splash.”

  “We need to be seen and make contacts...it’s good for business.”

  “This will definitely be good for business.”

  So why didn’t she sound excited? “We want you to put it together for us. I told Kane that no one would know better what to have and who to invite. You’ll do great.”

  “Sure.”

  Maybe she was simply overwhelmed. “I know you’ve got a lot going on with the renovations, but this will be fun. And great for us.”

  “It will be my pleasure to organize a party for you.”

  But it didn’t sound like a pleasure. Her voice was stiff, not husky and molten like when he usually spoke with her. Maybe he should change tactics. “I think I’ll be back by Thursday.”

  She was silent so long he wondered if the
y’d been disconnected. “EvaMarie, are you okay?”

  “Sure.” She still didn’t sound convincing, but at least she was talking. “I’m just tired, I guess. A lot on my mind.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “I doubt it.”

  He wasn’t sure, but he had a good guess what the problem was. After all, in twenty minutes her parents had totally screwed up his head. He could only imagine what they could do to hers in an afternoon. “Did you spend all day fighting off new suitors or better job offers?”

  “No,” she snapped back. “Nothing like that.”

  “Come on...work with me here,” he crooned. He’d never seen her in this kind of mood, but he was more than up for the challenge. “I’m very good at distraction.”

  “And that’s helping, how?”

  “Do I look like Dr. Freud? Don’t kill the messenger. I’m not the obsessive worrier here, am I?”

  Now he garnered a laugh, small one though it was. “Well, I can’t deny it, as much as I’d like to.”

  “See?” It felt good to make her feel good, even over the phone. Almost as good as making her feel awesome in person.

  And she wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Well, if you want to help, you may need to work a little harder.”

  “Oh, I’m perfectly capable of working it hard if you need me to.” He let his voice deepen into a playful growl.

  “Mason!”

  There we go. Time to have some fun. “Well, maybe not from this far away...but I can make it work for you.”

  “What did you have in mind?” That breathlessness from earlier had returned. Even though they were only connected by phone, her husky voice worked its way along his nerve endings to set them all abuzz.

  “Just talking. You like talking to me, right?”

  “Of course.”

  Her response was too matter-of-fact. He needed to shake her up. “Then tell me your favorite part of what we do together.”

  “Um, what?”

  She sounded so innocently shocked he wanted to laugh...or kiss her thoroughly. “Come on, baby. Tell me what you like.” His body throbbed as he waited for her answer.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, leaving silence to hang between them.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “When you...” He heard her clear her throat. “When you kiss and suck at my neck,” she finally murmured.

  Mason’s mind conjured up explicit details of him doing just that. “And I love how you respond. Moaning. Nails digging in. Your hips lifting to mine.”

  Every word brought a new picture. His body tightened, and he desperately wished she were there for him to hold close right now.

  She felt it too. He could tell by the acceleration in her breath. Was she eager to play? “Now tell me how you like to be touched.”

  “With hands...” she said, quicker now to respond, “hands that are rough, calluses on them.”

  Just like his.

  “Firm. Guiding me. Supporting me.”

  Just like he wanted to.

  “Digging in.” Her voice was almost deep enough to be a moan. “Not to hurt, but in the excitement of the moment.”

  Just like his did when he felt her climax around him.

  Mason broke out in a sweat, hands clenching into tight fists. Not from the images she was conjuring. But from the fear that after playing with fire, he’d never again be free of his need for EvaMarie.

  * * *

  “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t go to the ball with Laurence?”

  EvaMarie paused in her attempt to work one of her amethyst earrings into the hole in her ear. She hadn’t worn them in forever. There wasn’t any need for fancy jewelry at the few places she went. But they went perfectly with her mother’s debutante dress, so EvaMarie hadn’t been able to resist.

  “I’m not, actually,” she replied to Jeremy. The frown that appeared on her face in the mirror didn’t go with the filmy cream layers of her dress or the elegant upsweep of her hair. Why did he have to ruin her anticipation? She was having a hard enough time hanging on to her composure as it was.

  She caught the pointed look he directed her way via the hall mirror. “I’m going on my parents’ invite, okay? They insisted. I might be meeting Laurence there, just as friends.”

  After all, how pathetic would she look without a date? And the fact that she had to worry about that, when she had a man who had no problem climbing into her bed every night, ticked her off.

  “But you’re really going to be spying.”

  “I don’t know,” EvaMarie said. Her frustration from the past week boiled over. “He didn’t say if he was going, okay? Didn’t say if he was coming home tonight. Didn’t give me any indication whether me going with him was even an option at all.” She huffed, blinking back tears. After all, she didn’t want to ruin her mascara.

  At least, that’s what she told herself.

  “Why didn’t you ask?” Jeremy said.

  Ask? “Why didn’t I ask? Because wouldn’t that leave me looking pathetic when he said no?”

  “So it was easier not to ask than it was not to know?”

  “I...” Maybe so. Maybe not. “I’m just confused.”

  Jeremy moved in close, looking suave and elegant in the mirror in spite of the casual clothes he wore for working on the estate. He settled warm hands on her bare shoulders. “Sweetheart, you are worthy of an answer. If you don’t get one, you have to demand one.”

  “But—I can’t...” In her world, demands were always punished. “That’s just not me.”

  “Isn’t it? Isn’t that what this is all about?” He waved a hand over her dress. “A way to demand Mason answer your unspoken questions without having to come right out and ask them?”

  Her hands clenched into the gown at her sides, as if fearful someone would try to tear it from her. “Are you saying this is wrong?” she asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Jeremy said, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I just don’t want you to sell yourself short. Have some self-respect, EvaMarie. You’ve earned it the hard way. But you’ll never build up your stockpile if you keep letting people steal it from you...”

  The image that statement created in her mind held her in awe for a moment. She could literally picture a pile of gold bars that her father and mother and Mason and Liza all kept stealing from...and she did nothing to stop them.

  “All right,” she said, a glimmer of understanding rapidly expanding in her mind. “I just want to see if something happens...if he responds. Wouldn’t you?”

  Her restlessness this week had coalesced into a fierce curiosity to see just how Mason would react to her in a public setting. After all, they weren’t dating. But somehow, some way, she’d still thought he would invite her to go to Liza’s ball with him.

  She’d been sorely disappointed.

  But she didn’t know the why of it—at least, a why that she could accept. That’s what was eating at her. Along with the job offer she’d had. She hadn’t been able to bring it up with Mason...but she needed to make a decision before the opportunity slipped through her fingers.

  Jeremy kissed her on her temple. “Girl, yes, I would.” He squeezed her arms to encourage her. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. I just don’t understand why you think things couldn’t work out with Mason. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  EvaMarie shook her head, blinking back tears. “It can’t work. There’s too much history, too much—”

  “Seems to me like it’s working now. I don’t see what the past has to do with anything.”

  She met his gaze straight up. “Can you honestly see my father walking me down the aisle to meet Mason? I’m not ready to spend a lifetime separated from the parents I still love.”

  Like Mason’s mother. Had
it been wrong of her to walk away from her family for love? Had she regretted it? EvaMarie knew her parents would be the same, forever condemning her for that choice. But then again, they might not cut her off completely. They’d become quite dependent on her these past few years.

  If her parents weren’t an issue, would she make a different choice?

  “I’ll see you at the party,” Jeremy said, turning to go as if he knew he’d said enough.

  She nibbled on her lip as Jeremy’s footsteps echoed down the hallway and then down the flight of steps to the basement.

  She could tell herself she was going because she wanted to, but deep down, she knew what she really wanted was to see Mason there—and be seen by him. But she did have some pride. If he ignored her, she would not push the matter.

  To make her nerves worse, Mason hadn’t made it home the day before as planned. She knew he was heading out sometime today, but he hadn’t said when, hadn’t called her when he left, nothing. So this was probably just a tournament of nervous tension for nothing.

  Stop mooning and go if you’re going.

  So she did. Only stepping out of her car was a bit more difficult than she’d anticipated. After all, she’d always come to these events with her parents or with Laurence. Never on her own. And people could talk about lifting your chin and storming a room with pride...but it was actually a damn hard thing to do.

  But she pictured that pile of gold bars and knew she didn’t ever want to be with someone who wouldn’t add to that pile. Which meant, if she were to continue living with herself, she better get to work.

  Because she was worthy of way more than a pile of gold. She was worthy of respect—and tonight she would demand it.

  Fifteen

  Mason stumbled, exhausted, into the side entrance when he got home around seven on Friday. Over twenty-four hours after he should have been here. He hadn’t even been sure he’d make it in tonight. The long drive over, after some last-minute meetings this morning, had about done him in. But as much as he wanted to hole up underneath EvaMarie’s cozy down comforter, he needed to put in an appearance at Liza’s party.

 

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