Billionaire's Best Woman - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Wedding Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #5)

by Claire Adams

  "What is wrong with you two?" I yelled as the helicopter engine roared to life. "None of this matters right now. Alice is waiting, and she either has good news or bad. All you two have to do is sit on that helicopter and wait to hear which one it is. Do you think you can manage that?"

  "I'm glad you're here," Xavier said. He spun on his heel and signaled to his helicopter pilot.

  Penn slipped his hand into mine and intertwined our fingers. "I can manage it, if you're with me."

  "I am," I said. "And, Penn? I'm not pretending."

  #

  "I don't want to admit it. I'm not ready to admit it," Alice said in a tremulous voice.

  Penn's fingers, still intertwined with mine, flexed. "Just tell us," he begged.

  "Let her say it in her own way," I whispered.

  Alice's eyes brightened as she looked at me. Then, her attention returned to Xavier and their son. "I was hesitant to go to the doctors in the first place. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."

  I fought off my own growing panic and concentrated on keeping my breath slow and steady. Penn was so rigid I was afraid he would crack. Xavier was exactly the same, his clenched jaw expression the exact origin of his son's worried look.

  "I guess it was good that I didn't trust them because then my hopes weren't tied to modern medicine. That left room for the real miracle," Alice said.

  No one said a word. In the silence, I was sure that Penn had stopped breathing.

  Alice reached out and took Xavier's hand. "The cancer cells are disappearing. The doctors think that full remission might be possible. Either way, I'm doing better now than I was before you all came and forced my hand."

  "You're better?" Xavier asked with the blank look of shock.

  "Yes," Alice grinned. "I'm much better."

  "Oh my God. Oh thank God." Penn spun away and pulled me with him. On the edge of Alice's grove, he stopped under an oak tree and sank to the ground.

  Still intertwined by the hand, I knelt down beside him. As soon as I settled onto the grass, Penn collapsed into my lap. There was no sound, but his shoulders heaved and hot tears soaked my skirt. I held his hand tight and used my other to brush back his unruly hair.

  "Shh," I crooned over him. "Now you can let it all go. Let it go and let yourself be happy."

  "Happy?" Penn snuffled against my skirt and sat up. "Is this happy?"

  I smiled and smoothed away his smudged tears. "This is shock. Relief. Probably a little anger that you had to go through all this in the first place. Once you get all of that out of your system, you'll feel happy."

  "Out of my system," Penn murmured. "You know, I lied about that. I know I'll never get you out of my system."

  "Shh, we don't have to talk about that now."

  Penn let go of my hand and took both my shoulders. "I need to thank you. I need to stop lying to you."

  "What you need to do is get up and go hug your mother," I said. "Your father, too, if you can manage it."

  Penn pulled me to my feet, and I saw the flicker of a scowl pass over his lips. "One step at a time."

  "You're right," I said, "and the first step is to go and celebrate with your family. I'll give you a minute."

  In all honesty, it was me that needed a minute. Once Penn had rejoined his mother and father and I could hear their laughter, I stumbled past the oak tree and into the thicker undergrowth. Somewhere in the tangle of ferns and tall grass, I dropped to my knees. The sobs were silent and all the more painful for the lack of sound.

  His mother, Penn's beautiful mother, was going to get well. He had countless more dinners and holidays and casual chats with her. I was glad, so glad for him, but all I could was cry. I cried in relief that this time hope had worked, at the same time as I mourned the time that hope hadn't been enough for my own mother.

  "Corsica?" Xavier asked. He brushed aside the ferns and held out a hand.

  I waved him away. "I just need a minute."

  He sat down in the dirt with me, despite his pristine suit. "I don't know how I'm going to thank you for all this. No, don't wave me off. You were a huge part of this."

  I gave up and let Xavier pull me to my feet. "I'm just so glad it was good news."

  He smiled. "The good news is that I'm going to kick my son's ass from here to next Wednesday if he doesn't find a way to thank you properly."

  Xavier led me back to the Alice's yurt and right up to Penn. Alice unwound her brightly clad arms from her son's waist and cupped my face. "Sweet girl, I thought you would be the first one to declare a celebration and the last one to shed tears."

  "We're going to let them celebrate on their own," Xavier declared. "How about one of those luxury tents? The one with the chandelier?"

  Penn rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Anything. I'm so happy, I'll do anything."

  I found my voice again. "Then how about we settle something once and for all," I said. Penn's jaw dropped, worried that I was about to reveal our silly charade. I laughed. "Take me out along your favorite trail and we'll see who the real camper is."

  "You're trading a night in one of your opulent 'glamping' dreams to hike a long, dusty trail and sleep on the ground?" Penn asked.

  I nodded. "Proving you wrong is my kind of celebration."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Penn - 16

  It was hard to admit that the pace Corsica set was impressive. I had forgotten that she ran every morning, usually along the beach, and that underneath her pretty sundresses was a fit, athletic body. She marched along the trail with fiery determination. There was nothing to do but focus on the hike and enjoy the view.

  Corsica had switched out her breezy sundress for a pair of tailored, khaki shorts and a sky-blue tank top. Every time I glanced over the curve of her back, I thought the shirt was the color of her eyes. After the silly thought reoccurred a few times, I wished the incline was more punishing. I was having trouble keeping my mind on our trip.

  The biggest problem was I couldn't believe we were out there. I kept thinking Corsica must be a daydream in front of me. I was still amazed and pleased that this had been her idea.

  "Couldn't find a bigger pack?" I asked.

  Corsica tossed a look over her shoulder. "It's the same size as your pack."

  "Except mine is full of necessities like a frying pan and food. How many dresses, skirts, and outfits did you pack?"

  She stopped on the trail and spun around to face me. "I've got the coffee grounds and press, plus half the water. What, is your pack too heavy? Do you need me to take on more?"

  I laughed and brushed a wavy curl out of her face. "No. I'm just teasing you."

  Corsica swatted my hand away. "Why? You can't think of anything better to say?"

  I shoved her along the trail and was glad when she turned back around. It was annoying how quickly she saw through me. What was I supposed to talk about? How beautiful the day was or how the sound of the stream far below us was slowly lulling me into a happy stupor?

  I could have told her how happy I was to be out with her and how my heart tripped every time I thought about having her all to myself for days.

  "Just so you know," I said, "I'm not going to dress for dinner. I left my suit and tie at home."

  Corsica snorted. "That's your loss. Don't you know how great it feels to dress for dinner?"

  I caught her hand and pointed across the stream. "There's a good spot to camp. How about I set us up and then you can explain how a stuffy, snobby ritual can feel good."

  By the time I was done with the tent, Corsica had the fire pit dug and ringed with large rocks. She'd even gathered a few nice logs and a decent pile of kindling. She was laying out the cooking stuff when I finished securing the rain flap.

  "See? What's the point of dressing for dinner when there's only going to be one course. I hope you like roasted veggies and hot dogs," I said.

  "And pasta," Corsica said. She unearthed a cooking pot and box of macaroni from her pack. "And wine. Your father snuck it in before we left."
<
br />   I pulled over a log and sat down. "So you're really going to make me dress for dinner?"

  Corsica brushed back her hair and put her hands on her hips. "What's so bad about it? Everyone takes a few minutes to relax, get cleaned up. I think changing clothes and freshening up sets the whole tone for the evening."

  She held out the cooking pot. "I'll start the fire while you filter some stream water. Once the pot's set to boil, we'll retire to our separate quarters and dress for dinner."

  I took the pot. "Separate quarters?"

  "The stream side of the tent is yours and the hill side is mine. No talking, no teasing. I'll see you in ten minutes or so." After lighting the fire, Corsica rummaged through her pack, pulled out a black, cotton dress and her brush, then disappeared behind her side of the tent.

  I filled up the water filter and splashed cold water on my face. After scrubbing off the sweat and putting on a clean shirt, I almost had to admit she was on to something. Then I saw her and knew I had to admit she was right.

  Corsica's hair was loose and soft, brushed to a glossy shine. She'd worn it in a braid all day but now let it spill over her shoulders. The black dress was soft, billowing and clinging to her tight form in turns.

  I stood up and offered her my log. "My lady," I bowed.

  Her lips quirked up. "Thank you, kind sir. So, don't you feel better?"

  The peace of the burbling stream and the idle call of the songbirds had lulled me into contentment. My body was tired from the long hike, but in a loose and relaxed way. I felt calm and happy, but I couldn't admit all of that to her. "I always feel better when I'm out camping. That's why I started the business I did."

  Corsica chopped up the vegetables while I uncorked the wine. "So you're an entrepreneur," she said.

  I didn't like the way she said the word, like I was just some rich boy playing at a job. "I prefer innovator. I spend most of my time on camping trips like this so I have firsthand knowledge of how my equipment works and what improvements can be made."

  She tossed the vegetables in the frying pan with a slosh of olive oil. "Are you one of those people who doesn't think inspiration can strike in the office?"

  I laughed and dropped down to sit beside her. "God, how do you always call me on everything? So I've built up the perfect excuse to stay out of the office. I've found a job I love."

  Corsica nudged me in the shoulder. "I like seeing you at work, out here. Makes me feel like I'm actually starting to get to know you."

  "We might not know each other yet, but we know this." I caught her smile in a kiss.

  There was a hunger between us that was far more important than dinner. Our passion ignited faster than the campfire.

  While the water heated and the vegetables began to sizzle, I laid Corsica down on the soft moss. She skimmed her hands up to my shoulders and drew me down. Our mouths tasted, then devoured, our bodies consuming each other.

  The rest of the night was a velvet blur of happiness. The food tasted all the better for us working up an appetite and we were both so thirsty, the wine went down too easily. We laughed and lounged around the fire until late in the night, then tangled up together in the tent.

  It was hard to unwind myself from Corsica in the morning. My mind kept diving back into dreams and fantasies of future camping trips. Corsica and I would explore all of Pinnacles, then adventure through Joshua Tree. We'd bring our children out before they could walk and sleep all snuggled together.

  I slipped out of the tent, started the fire for coffee, and then got ready. I left Corsica a note telling her I was just over the crest. There was a rock face there where I needed to test out some new rock-climbing shoes.

  Work was a good reality check, I told myself as I started up the sheer rock wall. It wasn't very high, but it jutted out and I needed to concentrate to keep my footing as I clung to it and inched higher. The trial run of the shoes and the exercise was supposed to knock Corsica out of my thoughts, but it only doubled the effect she was having on me.

  I couldn't think about anything else, just her. Corsica flashed through my thoughts, a mix of passionate memories and moony daydreams. Since when did I waste time thinking about a happy relationship? And children? I must have gotten drunk off the wine. I shook my head and tried to keep concentrating.

  It was just a passing phase. I had been so stressed at the thought of losing my mother that I had tried to find someone to take her place. It was all just a change of pace and soon my life would get back to normal. I scrambled to the top of the rock wall, snarling as I wished Corsica was there to see me.

  I didn't want a wife or a family. I didn't even want a serious relationship. On the crest, I turned to the breeze and took a deep breath.

  All I had ever wanted was freedom. First, it was to get away from my father and his volatile moods. Then, it was to crawl out from under my father's shadow and the oppression expectations of my inheritance. After that, I wanted to be my own man and not let anyone try to press me into the mold they thought I should fit.

  If it was up to Corsica, I'd be dressed in linen sports coats and having brunch at a country club.

  That thought fortified me, but it was lost when I got back to camp. Corsica had the fire stoked, the coffee made, and she was rolling up the tent.

  "There you are," she smiled. "I'll make us some scrambled eggs."

  The only response I had prepared was a ranting defense of where I had been and why I had left her alone. So, I grunted and nodded towards the stream. I sluiced off the sweat from my climb and came back to the campfire bare-chested just to annoy her. Corsica only licked her lips and smiled at me again.

  My body erased all thoughts of freedom as all I could think about was getting closer to her.

  "We should get going. I have to get back to my mother's encampment," I said.

  Corsica took the eggs off the fire and looked up at me with a frown. "Why? Is everything all right?"

  "These shoes are not going to work at all. I've got to get the design team my notes before they present it to the shareholders. We can't sell them like this."

  I ripped open my pack and yanked on my dirty shirt from the day before. "So, you got lucky. Our camping trip is getting cut short."

  "I don't think that's lucky. Do you really need to go back to call them?" Corsica dished out the eggs and stirred hers without eating them.

  "I have to teleconference. I have to show them what's wrong with these pieces of garbage." I tossed the shoes into the bushes, despite the fact that they had performed great. Not that I had noticed; I was too busy mooning over Corsica like a moron.

  I almost changed my mind a dozen times as we hiked back. Corsica kept her mood light, despite my grumblings. She pointed out other viable campsites and talked about coming back on another trip. In the early afternoon, she stopped in a sweet-smelling meadow and pointed out the grass was long enough to shade us.

  "Are you sure you don't want to rest for a while," Corsica asked with a mischievous smile. "We could spread out a blanket here and no one would see us."

  I shook my head and marched towards my mother's encampment as if a swarm of bees was behind me.

  "Whoa, what are you doing back so soon?" The first person we saw when we arrived was my father. I almost didn't recognize him in wrinkled dress pants. His shirt was unbuttoned to his sternum and the sleeves rolled up.

  "I had an idea about work and it couldn't wait," I snarled. "Is my mother inside the yurt?"

  Xavier nodded then helped Corsica off with her pack. She smiled at him, despite her expression looking faded and confused. "We found the wine. It was wonderful; thank you."

  It was irritating how clean the connection was on my mother's neglected laptop. I shouldn't have been surprised that Xavier had given her the latest and best technology, despite how she stacked in under mountains of books. The teleconference also went too quickly and all of my nit-picking suggestions were immediately addressed. I closed the laptop and couldn't think of any other excuses to avoid Corsica
.

  She had showered and changed into a flowing sundress. Bright beads winked on her impractical sandals as she swung a Gucci purse over her shoulder and headed towards the spa.

  "Glad to be back in civilization?" I snapped.

  Corsica stopped, but didn't turn to look at me. "I would have happily stayed out on the trail for two more days like we planned. Now, I have an appointment."

  "Let me guess, pedicure? Or hot stone massage?"

  She took a deep breath and let it out in a controlled sigh, then pinned me with a guileless look. "You seemed busy with work, and I didn't want to interrupt any more. So, I made an appointment to talk to the resort manager about the glamping sites. I want to know more about it."

  I snorted. "One night out there is driving you straight back to excess and luxury, huh?"

  Corsica looked hurt. "I really enjoyed our night 'out there.' The whole 'dressing for dinner' gave me a great idea for ways to weave little luxuries into a rustic, outdoor experience. I was inspired."

  My chest hurt and I tried to loosen the knot there with a sigh. "I was inspired, too. I'm sorry that that meant we had to cut our trip short. I finished talking to work. Do you maybe want to go on a hike?"

  Her eyes narrowed to blue lasers. "I told you, I have an appointment. I'm not just here at your beck and call, Penn. Besides, now that I didn't even interview at the Ritz-Carlton, I better start exploring other job opportunities."

  I caught up to her again and grabbed her wrist. "You know, maybe we should work together on the whole glamping thing. I've got equipment designers that would drool over the possibilities of a luxe line."

  Corsica yanked her wrist back. "You made it very clear this morning that your work is solo. I'm sure you have more equipment you need to test by yourself. Good luck with that."

  She marched along the path with her delicate dress billowing, and my heart went with her. It was impossible. No matter what I did, Corsica was in or around every thought. I had tried ignoring our connection, then I tried indulging it, but no matter what I did I couldn't get her out of my system. Every muscle in my body ached to follow her, but I knew I would only make things worse.