The Billionaire Shifter's Second Chance (Billionaire Shifters Club Book 3)

by Diana Seere

  “I love it,” she whispered, the unspoken second half of her sentence hanging in the air between them, where they panted wordlessly.

  I love you.

  Bzzz.

  If only the rest of the world could disappear in a puff of smoke, he thought, knowing exactly what that sound was. He’d turned his own phone off after speaking with Shane, but he could only imagine all the ways in which Eva, Asher, and Morgan were trying to locate Molly.

  “My phone,” she groaned, rubbing her eyes, looking down with a hungry expression at their bodies. Bellies pressed against each other, still attached where it mattered, he followed her look.

  And liked what he saw.

  “Don’t answer it.”

  “I’m probably fired.”

  “No. They’d never fire you.”

  “If I ate a live baby on television, Edward, I’m pretty sure the Plat would fire me.”

  Not even then, he thought, but wisely kept to himself.

  “I’ll answer it,” he declared, pulling out of her, the shock of cold air making him inhale sharply. Reality had to intrude, eventually, on this impulsive venture.

  As his eyes darted from the phone to her prone, creamy body and back to the phone, he wondered how long he could delay reality.

  Bzzz.

  Not long enough. Clearly.

  “Any chance they, uh, know about this place?” Molly’s hair was a beautiful mess, falling in bunched-up waves around her head. She wriggled under the duvet and gave him a satisfied smile.

  “No. Absolutely none.”

  Bzzz.

  “You sure? That older brother of yours seems pretty tuned in.”

  “Asher?”

  “Right. He’s the oldest. The one Derry says is in charge of the family.”

  It had never occurred to him that Molly might know the dynamics of the Stanton family. Looking at her with a newfound respect, he decided to pick her brain.

  Bzzz.

  But first things first.

  “Yes?” he snapped into the phone, aggression the better part of valor.

  Or something like that.

  “Jesus, Edward, tell me she’s with you!” Asher yelled into the phone. Yelled.

  Asher did not raise his voice. For years, he’d instructed Edward that shouting was a sign of weakness.

  Edward had always idolized his eldest brother. Had been a keen student of his ways.

  And so Edward chose not to answer immediately, instead drawing out the moment.

  “EDWARD!” Asher roared.

  “Asher. You seem upset,” Edward replied in a calm, rational tone. He felt as if the world were a prism, and he held it in his hand, the tiniest movement changing the distribution of light and color. “Is everything all right?”

  A sharp inhale was the only response.

  “Asher?” Molly inquired, sitting up, the sheet exposing her breasts as gravity became Edward’s new favorite force of nature. “Why is your brother calling me on my phone? Isn’t that Eva?” Most women would be panicked.

  Molly sounded intrigued.

  “She is with you.” Asher’s voice went low and tight. “Get home. Now.”

  Click.

  Molly’s cheeks, neck, and collarbone turned a furious shade of red. “Your brother? Why would he care about where I am?” If he’d initially mistaken the color for embarrassment, that error was quickly vanquished as she threw off the covers, stormed over to their discarded clothing, and began shoving her gorgeous body into her panties.

  “Stop,” he insisted.

  She did not.

  “Molly,” he said, gently grasping her wrist.

  She stilled, mouth set in fury, her eyes narrowed. The bare skin on display, still wet from lovemaking and sweat, triggered a surge inside him, the eagerness once more taking center stage.

  He did not know he could want someone so desperately.

  “I’m not some, some… servant your brother can just order around! I’m not a child who, who—” she sputtered, her breath quickening, the sound so similar yet jarringly different from her breathing patterns in the throes of passion.

  “—who everyone underestimates,” he finished for her.

  Their eyes met.

  “Yes.”

  Unspoken words floated between them, whipped back and forth by the unfairness of circumstance. He wanted so desperately to tell her why Asher was angry, why she was being controlled, why Morgan had been assigned to watch her every move.

  And yet a part of him hesitated.

  For as unfair as it all seemed, her life was in the balance. Until he knew more about the gathering that unfolded as they stood in this hideaway cabin, soaked with each other’s scent, he couldn’t give in to impulse.

  Combing over her body with eyes that needed nothing more than a view of her forever, Edward realized he was a little too late.

  What they’d just done together was the very definition of impulsive.

  And oh, how he’d relished every delightful second.

  Bzzz.

  “Ignore it,” he ordered.

  Blazing mad, she turned on him, tapping the screen, defiant, shoving the phone to her ear. “You listen here, Mr. Asher Stanton. You can’t just… what? Oh. Hi, Eva.”

  She winced, eyes closed tight.

  An arc of sympathy ran between them, a current that jumped through the air. He put his hand on her shoulders, urging her to lean back, to let him offer support. To his surprise, she melted into him, head tipping up, her pain evident.

  “I see,” she whispered, the call painfully brief, her body limp against his as she tapped End and dropped the phone on the bed. A long sigh unfurled like a silk scarf in an ocean breeze.

  “We need to go back,” she admitted.

  “What did Eva say?”

  “She said that while I couldn’t understand it all, there was a reason why I needed to return.”

  A lump formed in his throat.

  Spinning in his arms, Molly reached for his chest, her palms flattening against his pecs, heat roiling through him like thunder.

  Her eyes met his, narrowed and sharp. “And she said you know why, Edward.”

  Chapter 14

  Painfully avoiding the subject, Edward encouraged her to take the time and shower if she wanted to, which she did, while he replaced his own clothes and tidied up the bed. After they’d turned off the lights and returned to the truck, he had the engine running before she’d latched her seat belt.

  “Do you know why they want me back at the ranch?” she asked.

  He didn’t look at her. “Excuse me, I failed to close up properly.” And just like that, he was out of the truck, doing something with the key in the lockbox. Then he rejoined her, slammed the door, and backed out of the driveway without a word.

  “Edward. Please,” she said.

  “I can’t. I can’t tell you. Not now.”

  “Why wait? After what we just shared?” Her voice cracked. It was ridiculous, it should’ve been ridiculous, but the sex had almost been like a religious experience. Her hands were still shaking, her eyes tingling with the urge to cry. “Or was it just me… was I the only one—”

  “No!” The truck swerved as he turned to her. He added more softly but just as certain, “No. It was not only you. I feel it too.”

  The last of her patience snapped. The intimacy had been incredible, but she couldn’t let him get away with treating her like a stupid plaything. It was her life. Great sex didn’t change that.

  “Eva said you could explain,” she said. “Why would she tell me that?”

  “Haven’t the slightest,” he muttered.

  She refused to let his cute English accent distract her. “You have more of an idea than I do. Tell me what you know, and we’ll figure it out together.”

  But he just drove on, the headlights slicing into the dark, deserted highway. Light snow was falling, disappearing as soon as it hit the windshield.

  “Talk to me!” she cried.

  He flinched. “
Molly. I can’t. Please try to understand.”

  “Understand what? That your family is treating me like a criminal?” Morgan hadn’t left her alone for a moment since she’d left Boston. After only a brief time away from him, Asher Stanton called Edward to demand where she was.

  “No, you’re wrong about that,” he said. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “I’m having a hard time believing you. Why should I?” Her angry thoughts flew to Tomas. Could it be something to do with her sleeping with a shifter? One of their relatives? Had she ruined her reputation with them forever?

  Disgusted, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window.

  “You have to believe me,” Edward said softly. He paused for a long moment. “You’re my One.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Your ‘one’ what?” she snapped, trying to shut down the shivers dancing through her veins.

  “I never believed in the Beat. Even after Gavin and Derry. I suppose I thought they were simply infatuated, like anyone might be on occasion. That’s what Asher said.” Edward made a sound of disbelief. “He was wrong.”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about, but something about his tone froze her anger for a moment. After a deep breath, she forced herself to speak calmly. “What is the Beat?”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers together. Then he lifted it to his lips and held it there, his warm breath caressing her skin. “Don’t you feel it?”

  “I’m feeling a lot of things.” She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was surprisingly powerful. “Mostly rage.” Sweet talk wasn’t going to teach her anything about why the Stantons were keeping her on a short leash.

  “Listen. Close your eyes. Feel.” He moved her hand to his chest and held it tightly. “Feel, Molly. Please.”

  Like a drum, she sensed his heartbeat. No, she heard it. How could she not? It was pounding. Roaring. Beating in time with hers, filling her ears and her mind with a rhythmic, deafening boom.

  His grip tightened. Can you hear it?

  He spoke in a whisper.

  No.

  He spoke in her mind.

  Their blended pulse was pure and beautiful, the loveliest song she’d ever heard.

  The Beat.

  I hear it, she replied silently.

  He raised her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed her palm. The old scar, which usually made contact on that hand uncomfortable, didn’t seem to be bothering her tonight. “Good. Everything will be fine. Don’t worry, darling.” His voice shook with emotion. “I should’ve recognized my feelings the first moment I saw you at Gavin and Lilah’s wedding, but I’d had too much practice denying them. But in Boston… It was in Boston when…”

  “When what?”

  He let out a long breath. “I’m not sure. Ever since Derry and Jess left that gallery together, I’ve been your slave.”

  “Hardly. You rejected me that night.”

  “I tried to. It’s so complicated.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I started to shift uncontrollably.”

  “Uncontrollably? You mean you can’t control it?”

  “Normally we can.” He frowned, eyes darting along the horizon, as if thinking deeply. “But during puberty or when we meet our One, we cannot.”

  “What?” she gasped.

  He laughed gently. “It’s an old legend, one I didn’t even believe. Not until now. But my heart was yours. I was a fool to think I could deny fate.”

  Still mesmerized by the Beat, which continued to sound throughout her body, she stared at his profile, wondering about the mysteries of the universe. Something had happened to her, too, at that art show. Why had she followed him outside? She’d never been shy, but she’d never pursued a man the way she’d chased Edward out of the gallery that night. And that kiss…

  It was out of time, out of place, out of mind. She’d been frozen until she reunited with him here in Montana, and with every touch they shared, she was changing. Not just her heart and body, but a deep, powerful element of her soul that she’d always known was there but had ignored. An element that recognized a shifter’s shadow and grew stronger with each moment that she spent closer to this man.

  This One.

  Before she’d snapped out of her trance, they were back at the ranch, walking through the front door and into the great room. And before she could protest, he released her hand and pushed her away.

  “Stay here with Jess,” he said, kissing her forehead. My love.

  Had he said that aloud? Was she imagining things? “Wait, what about what Eva said? And where—”

  He was already striding toward the back door.

  Jess, who had been sitting on a sofa by the fireplace, rose and came over to her. “I’m so glad to have somebody to talk to. I’ve already asked the kitchen to bring us cocoa with extra whipped cream—”

  Molly spun away from Jess and hurried to the door. “Edward! Wait! Don’t leave without—”

  The door slammed in her face.

  All right, now she was pissed. Seriously.

  “It’s hopeless, I’m afraid,” Jess said. “Family meeting. They call it a Gathering. Even I’m excluded. I gave Derry hell, but he didn’t budge. That’s never happened before.” She grinned.

  Molly was in no mood to laugh with her. Fuck the Beat—this was war. How could he dump her like that?

  “I’m going to find them, wherever they are, and make them talk to me. They can’t—”

  Jess got between her and the door. “Stop. I’m guessing you and Edward finished what you started.” It wasn’t a question.

  Molly nodded.

  “And you want him to stay with you right now and explain everything.”

  “I deserve an explanation.”

  Jess guided her to the sofa and pushed her into it. “I’m sure you do.” She went over to the sideboard, fixed two drinks, and returned to Molly. “But all you can do now is wait.”

  Reluctantly, Molly took the glass. She didn’t usually drink whisky, but right now it looked pretty damn good.

  My love.

  With the Beat echoing in her ears and her heart, she tossed back the expensive liquor in one swift motion.

  What was going on?

  Why wouldn’t he tell her?

  And what wasn’t he telling her?

  “Are we doing shots? Derry will be so disappointed to miss this,” Jess joked.

  Molly slammed the highball glass on an oak end table that probably cost more than her car. “Hit me again.”

  Jess raised her eyebrows, but she stood and returned with the Scotch whisky. Pouring two fingers into Molly’s glass, she sipped her own half-finished drink and said, “I’m guessing tonight didn’t go as planned.”

  “Why are we here, Jess?”

  Jess gave a halfhearted shrug, but Molly felt her discomfort. “You know the Plat. Serving wealthy, entitled—”

  Molly leaned forward and hissed, “No, Jess. I mean why are we really here?” Tension filled the space between them, coming just at that moment when the liquor should have loosened her. Molly’s skin tingled with anticipation. With fear. With trepidation.

  And with resolve.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why is everyone lying to me? Lying.” Hysteria bubbled up from her core to the top of her head. “Lion. That lying lion.”

  Molly didn’t know that a woman’s eyes could widen like that.

  “You know?” Jess’s voice shook, her chest shimmying with a strange, hitching hesitation as she exhaled in weird little spurts.

  “You know?” Molly gasped, grabbing Jess’s hand. She laughed, the sound tinny and breathy. “Of course you know. You’re fucking a bear.”

  And with that, Jessica Murphy reached for the bottle and drank straight from the top, her eyes on Molly the entire time, clutching the bottle’s neck until the whisky overpowered her, making her choke.

  “How can you know? Is it because,” Jess said though a labored cough, “�
��because you slept with Derry?” Her face made it clear any answer other than no was going to lead to violence.

  “No. I knew before.”

  Jess rolled her eyes and sized up Molly with a strange, wary expression. “You’re not a—you know.”

  “A lion?”

  “A shifter,” Jess said.

  “What? No!” The absurdity of the question made Molly’s body go numb.

  “Yet you know what they are.”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Molly said.

  Jess slugged back another swallow and handed Molly the bottle just as Morgan, the creepy butler babysitter, came into the room. His eyes fixated on the bottle in Jess’s hand. Molly swore she heard him curse under his breath, but when she looked at him, he was the picture of neutral servitude.

  “May I suggest a glass, Miss Murphy?” he said in a slightly edgy tone, that Eastern European accent making her wonder just how far back the Stanton bloodline went.

  And what was she doing with a guy who came from a family like that?

  “I’m fine, Morgan,” Jess said breezily. He nodded once, departing through a door that looked like a wood panel.

  “Do they know you know?” Jess asked in a conspirator’s voice.

  “Only Edward.”

  Jess snorted. “If Edward knows, then they all know.”

  “What? He’d never tell.”

  A long, hard look from Jess stripped away Molly’s denial. She eagerly chugged the rest of the whisky and set the empty bottle on top of a yachting magazine with a sad sigh.

  “I see. Why did Eva bring me here? And that guy,” she added, pointing to the direction Morgan retreated to, “has been assigned to follow me everywhere, even on the estate. Does he follow you when you visit?”

  Jess recoiled, her eyes filled with questions and empathy. “No. Never.”

  Molly stretched her neck, a few pops filling the silence as she thought. “Then it’s me. There’s something about me. Edward’s oldest brother called when we were, when we—”

  “Were doing the two-backed nasty?”

  Molly giggled. “Oh, it was nasty all right, if by ‘nasty’ you mean ‘fucking awesome.’”

  The whisky was kicking in.

  “Did you feel it?” Jess asked eagerly.