The Bastard Billionaire

by Jessica Lemmon

  “So you left.”

  No missing the proud arch of one of Isa’s dark eyebrows. “Actions speak louder than words.”

  “So you’re saying you’re looking for some action.” Eli pulled her in again, unable to resist all that unbridled confidence and strength.

  Her hand landed on his tuxedo shirt where she toyed with a button rather than push him away. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Well that’s what I heard.”

  She tipped her head and smiled up at him. He smiled back. He liked her in his arms. He liked her relying on him. He liked her, period.

  Over her shoulder he spotted Isa’s mother and the guy he guessed was Josh looking in their direction. He assumed he was her ex given the stiff posture and the look of complete disgust aimed directly at Isa.

  He liked that, too. Liked Josh seeing what he could no longer have. Liked Josh knowing she wasn’t in a position to be given an ultimatum. It was time to deliver that message in person.

  “Okay, Sable,” Eli said, hugging her against him with a possessive arm around her waist. “Let’s you and I go see this ex of yours.”

  * * *

  Isa inhaled a lungful of pure relief as Eli braced her against his firm, solid side. Having him here, and knowing he had her “six” was more than she’d asked for but exactly what she needed. She could face Josh alone. She just didn’t want to.

  She’d been away from Josh for years, but since her parents brought him up regularly, he still felt like a part of her life. She couldn’t help wondering if they did the same with him—regaling Josh with Isa’s successes, which they probably recounted as failures, and then delivering a pitch for getting the two of them back together.

  Until tonight, Isa hadn’t realized the way she fell into line in this environment. It was disheartening how the strong, sure businesswoman she’d become since she left Sawyer Financial and broke up with Josh receded behind her former accommodating self.

  Eli had reminded her of who she was. She had the bottle of beer in hand to prove it.

  Josh watched them approach, his eyes flicking between Isa and Eli. Josh recognized her date. She knew he did—Josh kept up with local gossip and the up-and-comers. He knew about the Cranes.

  “Josh, look who’s come to congratulate you.” Her mother stepped in to gesticulate among the three of them.

  “Hi, Bella,” Josh said with a nod. “Nice to see you again.”

  His gaze settled on where her hand rested on Eli’s sleeve.

  “Accompanying her is Elijah Crane.” Helena’s tight smile morphed into a frown when she spotted beer bottles in both Eli’s and Isa’s grips.

  “Mr. Crane,” Josh said. “I read a piece in the Trib about you when you came home. Honorably discharged. Thank you for your service.”

  Isa bristled. She had no idea how Eli would take Josh’s generic and borderline condescending greeting.

  Eli gave Josh a chin-lift that could either be construed as a nod or a fuck-you, and Isa, in her own immature way, hoped Josh took it as the latter. He didn’t of course. The jackass.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Helena interrupted. “I have to go say hello to the Kitchers.” Like that, she was off, gliding through the crowd to torment another unsuspecting group of people.

  “Bella, you look…” Josh paused, his eyebrows jumping slightly. “Very pink.”

  “Gorgeous is the word you’re looking for,” Eli said, his tone gravel and dust.

  Josh flicked him a peeved look. “Seemed an inappropriate observation to make since you two are together.” News he’d obviously just learned. Damn her parents. They’d primed Josh for Isa showing up as his date tonight. She’d bet her shoes on it.

  “There was never a chance we’d get back together,” she told him.

  Josh lost his air of politeness and clenched his jaw. “Still enamored with serving others, are you? Do you serve him?”

  “We’re done here.” Eli’s voice, low and lethal, sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

  With the hand resting on Eli’s elbow, she squeezed his arm gently. “We’ve both known for years we didn’t want the same things, Josh. Why would you want me back?”

  “Your parents want you back, Bella. You left them high and dry. Their only child not taking over the business when they needed you most.” To Eli he said, “I understand what the two of you have in common.”

  Eli’s glare turned murderous, eyes honed in on Josh like a pair of heat-seeking missiles. “You have two seconds to get the fuck away from us.”

  Josh’s eyes flitted left then right, visibly nervous, but he stood his ground. “We’re in public, Crane. I’d hate to see you make the paper for an unbecoming reaction.”

  “One.” Fists balled, Eli took a step closer and Isa felt his biceps flex beneath her palm. Josh had a few inches of height on Eli, but nothing in the way of muscles on his upper half. Eli would mop the floor with him.

  “Very well.” Josh held up both hands in a surrendering gesture. He stepped back from an advancing Eli and straightened his tie. “Enjoy the party.”

  Josh turned and walked away, nothing in his demeanor suggesting he was riled.

  “He’s good at that,” she told Eli. “Saying the right words to ignite your temper, then walking away cool as a cucumber.”

  “What did you see in that asshole?” Eli grumbled, his intense focus now on her.

  “I wish I could remember. I was a different person when he and I dated. He’d rage and I’d step down.”

  “What kind of rage, Isa?” Eli’s voice gentled as he lifted a palm to her jaw. He searched her face, his expression a mixture of hurt and concern. “Did he ever…Did he hit you?”

  “Eli. No.” She shook her head vehemently. Josh was a jerk but had never crossed a line. He was all show. “Nothing like that. He delivered an ultimatum when he wasn’t successful at getting my compliance. That’s it.”

  “That’s enough.” Eli swept his thumb over her lip. When his eyes returned to hers there was more concern swimming there. “This scar?”

  “I fell out of a tree when I was eight.” She smiled. He’d noticed that tiny silver mark on her lip. He cared. She liked how Eli’s intensity had focused to a finite point—her.

  “You don’t want to be here, do you?” he asked.

  She shook her head and then told him the truth. “The only good part about being here is being with you.”

  Eli dipped his head and covered her mouth with his, a claiming, delicious kiss she hoped her mother and Josh and everyone in the room witnessed. She hummed, feeling warm and relaxed and happy.

  Against her lips, he made her an offer she didn’t want to refuse. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  * * *

  As Eli pulled from the valet station, he had an uncomfortable realization. He’d put Isa in a similar situation at work as Josh had when she’d dated him. Eli had been the one pushing her and challenging her at every turn. Hell, he’d fired her several times.

  For a second he’d worried that Josh had hit her. He’d never believed someone could actually see red until the crimson veil washed over his vision. Josh was lucky Eli believed her, because if he’d sensed that Isa was fudging the truth even a little, Eli would have beat the other man unidentifiable.

  There was never an excuse to physically harm a woman, which made him wonder if he’d crossed a line of his own.

  “I cut the buttons off your shirt,” he said in the quiet air of the car, shame coating him.

  “Uh. Yes. I remember.”

  “You weren’t scared of me then?”

  “Of course not,” she said so easily, he turned and looked to where she lounged in the passenger seat. Elbow on the edge of the window, she twirled a loose piece of her hair, giving him a smug smile.

  “Because I’m so cuddly?” he asked. She put a hand over his and the pressure in his chest eased. She didn’t see him the way she saw her ex—as overpowering her. If anything, she’d overpowered Eli—and his s
ensibilities.

  “When I was with Josh, I was different. I didn’t know what I wanted. Now I do…”

  She let her voice trail off and Eli wondered if she’d been about to admit she wanted him.

  “Josh never loved me for me. He loved the idea of our partnership. Like my parents, he was enamored with the dollhouse style of our coupling.”

  Eli could relate. When he and Crystal had dated, she’d gone on and on about having a family and a house and a sizable yard. What she’d failed to see was that he wasn’t the kind of man who wanted a house with a yard to mow every weekend.

  “It’s hard to be with someone who doesn’t know you,” he said in a rare moment of openness—again. She drew the truth from him without even trying.

  Isa opened her mouth, maybe to ask more questions, but Eli cut her off before she compelled him to answer.

  “Do your parents know the real story behind why you and Josh split?”

  “No. They think I went rogue and dumped him along with Sawyer Financial. They thought it was a phase.”

  “Oh, right. The start-your-own-business phase.” He let out a dry chuff, then thought of his own business he was starting. If his brothers knew what he was doing, would they think Eli was going through a phase? Hell, for all he knew he was. He hadn’t shared with them yet, and as he thought about it now, the reason was probably so he wouldn’t have to explain.

  “My family and Josh’s family go way back. The Lindens have been friends with the Sawyers for generations. My parents fear ill will and a bad reputation over all else.”

  “So you show up to your ex-boyfriend’s ceremony with Eli Crane?” He stopped at a traffic light.

  “You were a last resort, so you can’t possibly feel used.”

  “Thanks. That’s touching,” he said, humor in his tone.

  Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “I…That came out wrong.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. He thought he’d meant it, but the gaffe did sting. Just enough to remind him he hadn’t earned her trust. Yet she’d been earning his for a while now.

  Way to go, Crane.

  He accelerated through the green light. After a few silent minutes, she spoke again.

  “To Josh, I was a yellow-brick road leading to the wizard. Haven’t you had someone date you because of who you were?”

  He thought about that a moment, then shook his head.

  “I guess that makes sense. You’re not exactly using your family’s name to advance, are you?”

  “Neither are you,” he pointed out. “Sable Concierge isn’t tied to them in name, and I assume you didn’t borrow a hefty loan from them to start it.”

  “Not from them. Not from Sawyer Financial.” The strength in her voice was undeniable. Isa didn’t want a handout. She took the hard road. She chose the hard road. Look at him. He wouldn’t even know her if he hadn’t gone through her staff like disposable cups.

  “Isabella Sawyer.” He turned off the main drag, an idea sparking. And it was a far better one than dropping her off at her place.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you join me for dinner?”

  “At this time on a Saturday night? We’ll wait two hours for a table.” The streetlight overhead illuminated her smile of pure excitement. He hadn’t earned her, but this could be a start.

  “You underestimate my reach. Don’t you know who I am?” he teased. Then he lifted his cell phone and punched in a number as he edged into heavy traffic. “This is Eli Crane,” he said into the phone. “I have a standing reservation.”

  Chapter 8

  Eli was full of surprises.

  He drove them to Benicia’s Italiano, located on the Magnificent Mile, a very small, very ritzy joint that wouldn’t bat an eye if a couple walked in wearing their finest attires—which they were. Upon Isa’s brief inventory of the place, she spotted two other men in tuxes. Candles behind amber-colored glass in the center of every table bespoke tradition, but the crisp white tablecloths and the sunny orange and yellow motif on the walls gave the restaurant a modern feel.

  Eli spoke to the host briefly and the older, bald man nodded and collected two menus. He led them to a cozy booth at the back of the restaurant where a bottle of wine and a cup filled with slender, crisp breadsticks waited for them.

  “Chianti as per your standing reservation,” the host said, placing the menus on the table and pulling Isa’s chair out for her. She sat, eyeing Eli as he unbuttoned his jacket and lowered his tall, lean form into the seat across from her. She wished she could snap a picture of him to preserve the moment—the moment Eli Crane put on a tuxedo and took her to dinner after telling her ex off.

  Tonight was one for the books.

  “Color me impressed.” She bit her lip to hide a grin as she inspected the elegant crowd. “How’d you get us in here? Does the owner owe you a favor?”

  “The owner’s son was my rehabilitation guy,” Eli said, studying the menu. “Ex-military. We spent a lot of time together while I was learning to walk on the leg and he mentioned Benicia’s over and over. Said once I get out and about to stop by and he’d have a table and a bottle of Chianti waiting for me.”

  “Wow.”

  “He’s a man of his word.”

  “As are you.”

  Eli gave her a dark blue wink and her stomach clenched in anticipation of where the night might lead.

  Their waiter stopped by to chat about the specials and fill their glasses. They each ordered the chef’s special—linguine with homemade noodles and mussels. A thick loaf of fragrant, freshly baked bread arrived a minute later, steam curling. Isa’s mouth watered.

  “You have a knack for making friends in spite of your trying hard not to,” she observed, tearing off a corner of the bread and dragging it through a shallow dish of seasoned olive oil.

  “Are we friends?” he asked.

  She paused, the bread dripping oil onto the white plate in front of her. Why did that question feel so intimate? “I think so.”

  He lifted his wineglass and drank, saying nothing more about their friendship.

  “Thank you for getting me out of the ceremony. I really didn’t want to watch Josh take the reins of my parents’ company.”

  “Tell me how you started Sable Concierge,” Eli said, clearly not wanting to discuss Josh any more than she did.

  “I’m organized. I’m bossy. I’m good at being an assistant.”

  He laughed and she found herself pausing between bites of the bread to admire the brief flash of levity. Eli Crane was gorgeous when he smiled. Well, he was gorgeous anyway, but especially when he smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his dark scruff parting to reveal a flash of white teeth. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a beat too long to be appropriate. She couldn’t help it. She knew what his mouth felt like on hers—the firmness of his lips, the confidence of his touch—and the experience wasn’t one she’d soon forget.

  “Sounds like an organized, bossy person would be perfect running your parents’ company. Why didn’t you?”

  She took his teasing in stride, lifting her wineglass. “Sawyer Financial isn’t exactly thrilling. Besides, you don’t appear overly eager to take on COO for your parents.”

  “Father,” he corrected, but his tone was gentle.

  “Oh.”

  “My mother passed a day short of my fifteenth birthday.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her heart squeezed. She could easily picture Eli spending his fifteenth birthday quiet and angry at the world for taking one of his parents away.

  Isa slid her plate to one side so she could put her elbows on the table—anything to move closer to the man who’d shared a personal detail with her—a detail she hadn’t found on his laptop.

  “She wrecked on the highway on her way to buy my gift. The video game I wanted was in the passenger seat.” He took a deep swallow of his Chianti.

  “Eli…” She wanted to touch him, but his rigid posture suggested he wouldn’t accept her comfort.

 
“I’m not the best person for COO of Crane Hotels, Sable.”

  She tried to make the connection from his losing his mother to him being unfit for COO of Crane Hotels, but wasn’t sure how the two pieces fit together. Had his mother not wanted him to go into the family business? Or had she wanted him to and the idea of doing so made the pain of losing her fresh?

  “Your father and brothers believe you’re perfect for COO,” she said. “They believe COO is your legacy—”

  “Don’t”—he held up a hand—“give me the Batman speech.”

  “The Batman speech?”

  “About how I owe Gotham a debt that would be paid in full by my suiting up and fighting crime. Or, in this case, reporting for duty at the top floor of the Crane Hotel.” His delivery was dry, but there was humor under his words.

  “Ah, this is well-tread territory.”

  “You need mudding tires to go in there,” he said.

  In his own way, he’d asked that she didn’t push him on this, and she respected him enough not to. Whatever reason Eli had for not showing up for work at the Crane, he hadn’t told anyone. Not yet. She wasn’t going to push him. Not when he’d let her leave her parents’ event elegantly, simply because she hadn’t wanted to be there.

  At the delivery of their salads, she kept the conversation going. “What is Zach’s role in the charity?”

  She’d read the website to better understand what Eli was doing. Refurbs for Vets provided ex-military support so their homes worked around them, not the other way around. Many vets came home needing prosthetic limbs, wheelchairs, or both, and navigating their homes became a whole new ball game when it came to mobility. Eli’s brainchild promised “top-notch craftsmanship, styled to the individual’s needs.” Remodels to kitchens, bathrooms, and any other part of the house that would allow the returning soldier to feel at home. It was admirable, and obvious that home and family were important to Eli—to all of the Cranes.

  “Zach is a commercial contractor who has worked with Crane Hotels before,” Eli answered, forgoing the salad dressing and digging into dry lettuce. “He can get ahold of great deals on materials and he’s an honest, hardworking guy.”