One Night With the Rebel Billionaire

by Trish Wylie

  He was the easy one.

  Her gaze rose to the top of the stairs. What to do about Adam—that was the more difficult question. Walking away would definitely be the easier option, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to believe he was the kind of man Jake thought he was. Not the Adam who’d made love to her with so much tenderness. He couldn’t be that vengeful. It couldn’t be true. If it was her faith in mankind was about to be shattered.

  She was already caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Jake was like a brother to her—had been her best friend for years. Adam was her lover—in the truest sense of the word she’d ever experienced or probably ever would again. She didn’t want them at each other’s throats.

  To her surprise he wasn’t packing. Instead he was in the library-cum-office, standing behind a desk staring out a window. His stance was rigid, defensive; sunlight streaming through the windows to illuminate his profile and highlight the blond in his hair. Yes, still beautiful to her, but the loneliness in him was heartbreaking. Was that what she’d felt earlier?

  He didn’t turn, but he knew she was there, the flat tone of his deep voice striking at a chord inside her. ‘You shouldn’t have got caught in that.’

  ‘But I did.’

  ‘Ask whatever you want. I’ll answer. It’s up to you if you choose to believe it.’

  Now he was an open book? It was too much of a temptation to resist. The burning need to know everything drew her further into the room.

  ‘Well, we’ve covered how you make your living, not that you need to do anything…’

  ‘Everyone needs to do something.’

  ‘You left the second you inherited, didn’t you?’

  ‘I wasn’t that patient; I left before the paperwork was through. I took work where I could find it and thought about what I wanted to do and the kind of man I wanted to be.’

  She watched as he lifted his arms and pushed his hands into his pockets. ‘I never lived up to the Bryant name here so it made sense not to carry it out there. The old man helped with that decision.’

  ‘How?’

  He shrugged, ‘He spent a lot of time telling me what a disappointment I was—not that he wasn’t pushed. I had attitude back then. Still do some would say…’

  Roane’s steps faltered when she was able to see his face. He was so calm. So detached. As if he were talking about someone else’s life and none of it mattered. How could he be so cold? It suddenly hit her: control. He’d taught himself to exert so much control he was able to appear unfeeling on the surface. Everything he thought and felt was hidden away.

  It made her long to know what lay underneath.

  She silently cleared her throat and braved another step closer. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it.’

  ‘People have a tendency to state the harsher truths in the heat of the moment.’

  ‘You have to know he’s regretted it ever since. He told you he felt he’d let you down.’

  ‘“Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do.”’ He glanced sideways at her, warily or with resignation? Roane couldn’t decide which one it was as he added, ‘Voltaire again.’

  When he looked back out the window she stilled, waiting. Eventually he glanced sideways at her again. But he didn’t say anything. Meaning he wouldn’t volunteer the information unless she asked the questions. Okay. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy.

  ‘So you took your inheritance and invested it and made buckets of money. You have a base of operations?’ She remembered something he’d said. ‘Do you have offices in New York?’

  He looked back out the window. ‘I don’t have an office. The people who work for me have them. I have places I stay. An apartment in New York overlooking Central Park, another in San Francisco—a house in New Orleans; cities I like—I told you that.’

  Not all of it, he hadn’t. Therein lay the rub as far as Roane was concerned. Why couldn’t he have told her these things? Why did he have to make it so darn difficult? He’d given her small pieces of the puzzle, had never lied, but had never told the truth either. Was he like that with everyone or just the ones he was determined not to get emotionally involved with?

  ‘The project you told me about in New Orleans—the one where you made those friends you swapped bracelets with—was that rebuilding your house after Katrina?’

  ‘No. I donated twenty million dollars to a fund for the rebuilding of schools and low-rent communities. I work the sites when I get a chance. The friends were from the communities we helped.’

  Twenty million dollars, he made it sound as if it were nothing. Yet he didn’t flaunt his money, didn’t run around with a chauffeur-driven limo—he could have been any guy on the street. Okay, maybe not any guy…but he wasn’t like any billionaire Roane had ever met. The Vineyard had its share of them…

  Adam took a breath and turned, sitting down on the edge of the window seat and lifting his chin to study her with hooded eyes. ‘Next question.’

  Roane’s breath hitched. ‘Don’t you dare take that attitude with me.’

  ‘What attitude? You sent Jake scurrying off so you could ask questions, so ask them.’ Infuriatingly he smiled the lazy smile that had always sent her pulse skipping. ‘You wanted to know plenty this afternoon—now’s your big chance. The secret’s out now.’

  A realization hit her so hard she almost rocked back on her feet with the force of it. ‘You didn’t trust me not to tell Jake. You thought I’d pick a side. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me anything this afternoon.’

  ‘If that’s your opinion of me again—’ his eyes narrowed dangerously ‘—I think we’re done here. I’m obviously exactly the kind of guy who would spend years plotting his revenge on his family and who’d bring down his brother just to prove he’s the better man. I should really have dressed in black from head to toe for the full effect, shouldn’t I?’

  Pushing to his feet, he removed his hands from his pockets and stepped around the huge oak desk. ‘Of course seducing you was obviously part of my great plan to wreak havoc too—just like Jake said. I’m one helluva guy, aren’t I?’

  But the man he’d described wasn’t the man who’d made love to her. She knew him. As if by stripping away layers of clothing he’d bared more than his glorious body to her. A man that driven on destruction could never have touched her heart the way he had. If he thought he was scaring her away, then he could just think again.

  She folded her arms and took a deep breath as he reached the door. ‘Are you done?’

  For a second she thought he would keep walking—it was what he’d done for most of his life, after all—but after a moment he turned, leaning his shoulder nonchalantly against the door jamb. ‘More, is there?’

  ‘Tell me why you did it.’

  ‘Plotted against my family, planned Jake’s demise or seduced you? I might need you to narrow it down for me.’

  Instinctively Roane knew the only way she was going to snap him out of the control he was exerting was to goad him into anger. It was a risky move; she’d seen him downstairs and he had one heck of a temper. When he’d seen her on the floor—

  He’d been mad as hell she was on the floor. He had been concerned she might be hurt, yes, but it was more than that. She felt a smile blossoming inside her as a flicker of hope sparked to life. But smiling wouldn’t help her cause so she damped it down and lifted her chin, ‘Throw many of these pity parties, do we?’

  There was a flash of green in his eyes. It was all the proof she needed that she was on the right track. His eyes would change colour: emerald-green flashing in the brown when he was angry, brown softening the green to a mossy tone when he was turned on, brown clouding the green out altogether when he was laughing…Roane knew so many of the meanings, already.

  Right now she was rattling the tiger’s cage.

  ‘Get to the point, sweetheart. I have a bag to pack.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, ’cause that’s what you do best, isn’t it? You run away.’

  Large
hands curled into fists at his sides, fingers uncurling and stretching when he saw she’d noticed. He wasn’t even prepared to show that much of a loss of his precious control, was he?

  ‘When did goading me seem like a good idea to you?’

  Roane searched the air above his head, moving her head from shoulder to shoulder while she considered her answer. ‘Oh, I dunno. Maybe round about the time you started acting like an ass again. In the absence of a rudder to kick a girl has to get creative.’

  There was a brief narrowing of his eyes and then he lowered his chin and stalked towards her. It wasn’t all that long ago it would have jumped her heart into her throat, but she stood her ground and willed her thundering heart to stay where it was.

  ‘Intimidating me won’t work this time either. I’m a new woman. You helped with that some, but being knocked on your ass will do it too, I’ve discovered. Always wondered where the phrase “knock some sense into you” came from…’

  He clenched his jaw, hard, stopping a couple of feet away from her. ‘Maybe you should just tell me what it is you want from me.’

  ‘I want you to stop holding back from me. Last night I thought we’d agreed we wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘In bed. This isn’t the same thing.’

  ‘That’s a cop-out and you know it is.’ She felt anger billowing up inside her, frustration carrying her feet forwards. ‘Tell me why you did it, Adam—the real reason. Look me in the eye and I’ll know you’re telling me the truth.’

  The cruel smile bared his teeth. ‘You think I can’t look you in the eye and lie? Still have a lot to learn, don’t you, little girl?’

  ‘You won’t.’ She stopped a foot away, shaking inside as she forced back the tears of frustration threatening behind her eyes. If she got this wrong and pushed him further away from her it was going to hurt. She just needed to find a way to reach him. ‘I know you won’t.’

  ‘How can you?’ The full force of his anger roared the words into the still room, his eyes flashing sparks of green fire and the cords of his neck strained. ‘You’ve known me four days!’

  Roane faced the storm by summoning every ounce of strength she had in her. ‘You think this makes any sense to me? It doesn’t. I know it’s too fast and too soon and at least a dozen other things that don’t make any more sense than the last. But I just know—I feel it! There’s no way to explain that—it’s just there. If I didn’t trust you I would never have slept with you!’

  When a tear slipped off the edge of her lashes she swiped angrily at it. ‘Even when I didn’t like you I trusted you with my body. Because it felt right. I wasn’t wrong about that, Adam—I know I wasn’t…’

  Even as her voice lowered to a harsh whisper at the end, the memory of their lovemaking sent a rush of heat tingling over her skin. Whatever else he was, Adam was an incredible lover; he’d touched her as though she were infinitely fragile, kissed her until she could hardly breathe…He’d stolen a part of her in one night. So, yes, she’d been absolutely right to trust her body to him. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind.

  He looked as if he was ready to hit something, but Roane kept going, her voice stronger but cracking on some of the words. ‘I wasn’t wrong to trust you with my body. I’m not wrong about this. So look me in the eye and tell me why you did it and I’ll believe you—even if it’s something I end up hating you for.’

  When he turned his face towards the open window she could feel the deep-seated need for flight in him. Just by looking where he was looking he was telling her—even if it was subconsciously—he was ready to leave. And how much more of an effort it would take to stay.

  She silently begged him to make that effort. Because he didn’t have to be alone—he had her—didn’t he know that? He’d had her from the get-go.

  A muscle jumped in his jaw, his impossibly thick lashes flickered as his gaze moved to random points in the room, he pursed his lips into a thin line and then finally—finally—he looked her straight in the eye and the deep rumble of his voice spoke the words she’d hoped to hear.

  ‘I did it to keep it safe.’

  Her lower lip trembled. ‘To protect the company.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because you could.’ She nodded. ‘Not because you wanted it for yourself or because you didn’t want Jake to have it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  The inner shaking had worked its way into her chest so that breathing became difficult. ‘You were looking out for the family, weren’t you? No matter what you say or do, it still matters to you…’

  He looked back out the window.

  Roane cleared her throat and blinked to clear her vision. ‘If it mattered so much why didn’t you come home? You were gone for twelve years.’

  When he looked at her the truth sent a chill over her entire body, goose-bumps breaking out on her arms. ‘Oh, my God. You did come home, didn’t you?’ She breathed the question, ‘When?’

  ‘I’ve been on the island at least once a year.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve always liked the Vineyard…’

  She stepped closer and could have wept when he stepped out of her reach. ‘Why didn’t you come home? They would never have turned you away. I think your father secretly tried to find you—maybe he did and couldn’t face you, I don’t know for sure. And Jake—’

  Her voice broke. ‘Why do you think he was so angry downstairs? He was hurting. He hero-worshipped you when he was a kid—you should have heard the way he talked about you. When you left—it felt like you’d left him. He didn’t understand why. For a while I think he thought he’d done something wrong. That if he’d done something different he could have stopped you…’

  Adam frowned at her, his voice rough. ‘He didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t leave him. I left the ring.’

  ‘What ring?’ She shook her head, her gaze dropping to the ring Adam was twisting almost absent-mindedly with a thumb curled into his palm. Her brows wavered. ‘That’s what the ring is? It’s for Jake?’

  She’d known that everything he wore had meaning. Friendship, family legacies—the things he valued…

  ‘It’s a Celtic symbol for brotherhood. I left him one in that dumb-ass tree house he got me to help build. Who the hell has a tree house at fourteen anyway?’ He shook his head. ‘Loser. It was in an envelope with instructions how to find me if he ever needed me.’

  Roane remembered the second he said it. She remembered the names they would toss at each other. Jerk, Jake would call Adam. Loser, Adam would reply. She’d forgotten that. At thirteen she’d thought they were both dorks. They’d spent weeks and weeks building that dumb tree house two years before Adam left. Jake had taken a crowbar to it a month after he’d finally accepted he wasn’t coming back. He’d never found the message his brother had left him. He’d have told her if he had.

  He’d have been so happy.

  A choking sob broke free from her chest when she understood the gravity of the one clue that had been missed. Things could have been so different. ‘But when he didn’t come find you, you thought…’

  She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  Adam’s brows jerked as realization set in. ‘Right.’

  That was all he had to say? Right? Then his mouth twitched as if he was about to smile. Surely he wasn’t seeing it as ironic? She would have to slap him if he did. It wasn’t ironic—it was incredibly sad—for both of the brothers she loved.

  Before the impact of that hit her she got another word from Adam: ‘Okay.’

  ‘Right and okay? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ He frowned at her. ‘I can’t change history. It’s just a variable I hadn’t considered, that’s all.’

  A variable he hadn’t considered? Blinking in astonishment, Roane shook her head to clear her thoughts.

  ‘But you can build some bridges now. Tell him. I’m not saying he’ll make it easy for you—you have a lot in common that way—but tell him. Stay and try.’

  The words faded into th
e silence and Roane watched as he worked the suggestion through his mind a few times. Half his problem was that incredibly large brain of his, she decided. He over-thought things. But just when she was about to say that he looked at her with the intense heat that curled her toes—

  She knew his thoughts had turned to her.

  A distinct sense of impending doom hit Roane, her heart twisting painfully in anticipation of being told she’d gone too far—it was none of her business—he was leaving anyway…

  They were done.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ADAM MOVED TO the edge of the desk and sat down, his legs wide and his forearms on his thighs so that his large hands dangled between his knees. Then he considered her, slowly, silently, until Roane thought she might scream if he didn’t say something…

  ‘Even if I try some bridge-building, I’ll still leave. You need to understand that.’

  Trying to hide the fact the words hurt like hell, Roane nodded. ‘I know. You have a life.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘And responsibilities.’ Like the work he did in New Orleans. Roane wondered if he had any idea how impressed she was by that. Or how proud. He really was the most incredible man she’d ever met.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I know.’ She said the words softly and smiled at him, almost afraid to break contact with his amazing eyes. She loved his eyes.

  They narrowed a barely perceptible amount and then his silent study continued where it had left off. Only this time he took a deep breath and lifted a hand to rub his palm over his face, suddenly looking incredibly weary to her. It made her fingers itch to reach for him, to touch and to soothe and, well…

  Touching him had only ever led to the one place.

  Except now there was an even greater distance between them than before—and for all her bravado and determination when it came to Adam and his family, when it came to her tentative relationship with him…