BILLIONAIRE ANGEL (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way)

by Robyn Grady

  Billy crossed her arms. “Maybe that was the time to tell me.”

  “Maybe it was.”

  Jax summized, “You decided to move it on instead.”

  “I sold a lot of erotic jewelry,” Ann said. “There’s a huge market.”

  Billy sat down beside her. “You didn’t, well, get more into that scene, did you?”

  “I sold books, jewelry,” Ann said, “that was it. I kept the ring hidden there for a while. One day a lady came in looking for something different. She was prepared to pay a great deal.”

  “Mrs. Garfield,” Jax said.

  “I showed her the ring,” Ann said, “gave her a price. She walked out one very happy customer and that was the end of the whole long, unpleasant episode. Or so I thought.”

  Rick added, “She always intended to repay the insurance money.”

  Jax cocked an eyebrow. “How?”

  “I had ideas of telling them,” Ann said, “that the ring had shown up and they could have their payout back.”

  “But the insurance company went belly up a year after the payout,” Rick explained.

  Billy wasn’t happy, but she could see how events and circumstances had conspired. She searched her sister’s eyes.

  “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  “I always wanted to,” Ann said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “I’m almost glad you found out. I don’t know that Mom would ever have forgiven me…”

  When Ann’s voice hitched and she hung her head, Billy squeezed her sister’s hand and then brought her in for a hug.

  Finally that mystery was solved. And now?

  Well, she’d made a plan. It was time to push forward. Time to move on with her life.

  Chapter 15

  An hour later, Billy was back in the passenger seat of Jax’s vehicle when, standing outside, Rick handed something to Ann who passed it on to her sister.

  Billy studied the envelope. “What’s this?”

  “Open it on your way home,” Ann said, and then smiled softly at Jax. “Thanks for helping make this right. This last bit...” She leaned in through the window and dropped a kiss on her sister’s forehead. “Well, now all the loose ends will be tied.”

  On the road again, Billy ripped open the seal. Hands on the wheel, Jax glanced across and grinned. “Looks interesting.”

  She extracted a bank passbook and opened it to the identification page. “It’s a bank account made out in my name, opened eight years ago.” She flipped to the next page and made a sound like she’d lost her breath. “There’s a single transaction. A deposit. A big one.”

  When she told him the amount, Jax let out a long low whistle. “The purchase price of the ring from Mrs. Garfield, I presume.”

  “There’s a note or card in here, too. No. A photo. It’s me and Ann selling homemade perfume in front of our home.” She flipped over the decades old snap. “There’s a message on the back from Mom.”

  “What’s it say?”

  Something so simple and strong. “Something she always used to tell us...” A tear slipped down Billy’s cheek as she met his gaze and smiled. “Don’t forget...live your dream.”

  The closer they got to Point St. Claire, the thicker the tension grew. By the time Jax pulled up in front of Billy’s house, he’d come up with two dozen different ways to keep from saying goodbye. Beside him, still clutching that envelope, Billy looked just as torn.

  Parked with the engine idling, he studied her profile, while she pressed her lips together, and then finally looked across. Her eyes were wide—like she wanted to invite him in but also didn’t want to prolong the inevitable.

  “Did I mention the club’s anniversary evening?” he asked, trying to sound casual. We’re extending invitations to partners.”

  “Wow. That’s a turn up.”

  “So, I was thinking, if you’re still in town...”

  Her eyes were glistening. “I’d like to. Even if Judge Garfield might not be so keen to see me there—”

  “He’ll be fine with it now.”

  “—but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Because it was better to end it here and now?

  Billy expelled a shaky breath. “So...”

  Jax sat straighter. “So, keep in touch,” he said.

  Her smile was achingly beautiful. “Yeah,” she said. “You, too.”

  When she leaned across and pressed her lips against his cheek, Jax forced a groan of longing back down.

  But then she reached to hold his jaw and coax the angle of his jaw until her lips found his. The contact was like a downpour filling a dam. And as the kiss lingered, the level only got higher. Grew deeper.

  His hand covered hers as every muscle in his body hardened.

  “Billy? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying goodbye...the way you and I should.”

  “With a kiss.”

  Her hand trailed down over his shirt. “We deserve more than a kiss.”

  She and Jax stood in her bedroom facing one another as he searched her eyes. Other than his forehead resting on hers as she gazed up, they weren’t touching and yet she’d never felt closer to any person in her life.

  What was she willing to give up if she stayed?

  What would she gain if she left?

  His hands trailed down either side of her throat at the same time his chest rumbled with a sound Billy took for need. She wanted him too. Her breasts were tingling, begging to be touched. Her core felt on fire, needing to be filled.

  As his palms trailed over her shoulders, Billy let her head rock back. She took in a lungful of his scent while he squeezed her upper arms, winging them forward, and nuzzled her temple…her ear...her throat.

  His jaw was rough with a day-old shadow. Billy shivered as that sandpaper feel trailed down and his grip brought her achingly near.

  Parted lips feathered over hers before the tip of his tongue tasted one corner of her mouth. She felt him swell, harden, and focus even more. Then he nipped her lower lip and tugged just enough to make standing without his help pretty much impossible.

  “Are you okay?” he asked and then nipped and tugged again.

  She smiled and leaned in. “I get it. You’re making this last.”

  Toasting her slowly and thoroughly from the inside out.

  His palms slid across and then down her back. While he weighed the globes of her behind in each palm, his mouth worked pure magic on the sweep of her collarbone. Then his hands scooped between the back of her thighs and lifted her up. Curving into him, she wound her legs around his hips.

  One arm held her in place while he took his time unbuttoning her shirt. He used his teeth to open one side. What he did next shot rockets through her veins. The roughness of his chin, the teasing and twirling of his tongue… And when he drew that sensitive part of her back into his mouth and lightly sucked―

  Losing her breath, she wound his hair up in his fingers. Inside, she was coiled so tight, if she pulled herself any closer to his belt, she would explode and go through the roof.

  He murmured against her skin, “I’m glad you broke into my club.”

  She hummed out a smile. “I’m glad you offered to help.”

  He rotated her so that he held her in his arms like he’d done the day he’d thought she might faint. His expression told her everything he was thinking…feeling. He wished they had longer.

  Something beyond a final night.

  He carried her to the side of the bed, lay her down carefully and then unbuttoned his shirt. All the time he focused on her eyes, on a connection that grew stronger by the second.

  When he dropped the shirt, Billy let her gaze sweep over his chest and shoulders and arms. Hard, hot and, for tonight...

  Only hers.

  *

  The next day, Jax jumped on his motorcycle and roared out from his Newforth Cove home. A thousand miles and three days later, he rolled into a crap neighbourhood two state lines west of Maine. Kids wandered around wearing big b
rother’s clothes and no shoes. Women sat on porch steps chugging on smokes and sucking on beers. Youths on ‘interplanetary missions’ strutted down the street, hoodies hiding their faces.

  How many cookhouses were hidden away in this square mile? Jax would bet at least one.

  He sat, parked, for an hour. Every now and then, he’d check his ride’s compartment box and the 9MM pistol waiting inside.

  It was late, dark, by the time the man slithered out the front door of the rundown tenement. As the man flicked his roach at a bush and darted a predator’s glance around, Jax eased off his motorcycle, opened the compartment and slid the 9MM under his jacket. His hands didn’t shake. In some respects he felt serene.

  Felt redeemed.

  Resources said that Hurly Green had moved here a few months back. He was still out and about, ruining families like they were pieces of garbage he had the god-given right to destroy. Someone, sometime, needed to stop him.

  Billy had finally got her justice. Her answers.

  Now Jax needed his.

  Chapter 16

  Two weeks later, when Jax heard a knock on his front door, he braced himself before lowering the soldering iron onto the worktable. Was it one of his cousins, Leo or Taylor, dropping in for a beer? Or his old friend, Tim Fielding from the Portland Police, come to pay him an overdue visit?

  Then Jax thought of Billy.

  Since the day they’d found out the truth about her ruby ring, the night they’d spent one final mind-blowing night together, Billy had maintained radio silence. So many times he’d wanted to call, ask how she was doing, when she was leaving. But he didn’t want to hassle her. They’d parted on an extremely high note. No matter how much it ached now, best it stayed that way.

  But when he opened the front door, Jax felt blindsided. Off balance.

  Margo Quinn’s glossy lips parted on a perfect white smile. “I got tired of waiting for an invitation.”

  When he continued to stand there, running through the possibilities, she angled to look over his shoulder and inside.

  “Jax? Are you going to invite me in?”

  He let out that breath and, with an inevitable sweep of an arm, ushered her through. He wasn’t forgetting the way she’d come onto him that day when she’d shown him the anniversary invitations. In hindsight, maybe it had been brewing for a while. But he hadn’t made any show of taking Margo up on the proposition. She must be here for some other reason.

  Right?

  She wandered into the living room and he closed the door. “Can I get you a coffee?”

  “I’d love a glass of wine.”

  Jax zoomed in on the outfit. Margo always looked good. This dress, however, screamed, Take me now. It was white, clingy and on the short side. Quite the picture adding in those red heels and long bare legs.

  But he wasn’t interested because she wasn’t Billy, would never be Billy, because Billy was one of a kind.

  At the worktable, Margo crossed her arms and swung to face him. “What’s this?”

  He joined her. “Something I’ve been working on.”

  “Impressive.” Her manicured fingertips traced over the words. “Do you have any other talents I don’t know about?”

  The exercise had taken longer than he’d thought it would. Now the pieces all fit together. The soldering was even. Colors and textures compatible. But…

  Something about it didn’t feel right.

  When he didn’t reply, Margo prodded. “I’ve been worried about you. You’ve seemed so preoccupied lately.” As she edged a smidgeon closer, her hand brushed his—and lingered. “I’ve been a little preoccupied myself. Thinking a lot about you.” Her fingers brushed again. “And me.”

  Margo’s scent was feminine and spring jasmine fresh. Her lips were plump and shiny. In her heels, she was almost his height; her nose was in line with his. And her face…

  He almost smiled.

  For a minute he thought he’d seen Billy in her eyes.

  Margo coiled fingers around his and placed his hand on her hip.

  “I’ve tried being subtle, Jax. For months now. Don’t you know I care about you?”

  When Margo moved to loop an arm around his neck, Jax stepped back. This had to stop. “We have a professional relationship.”

  “That can change.” She stepped closer, gave a hopeful smile. “I won’t sue for sexual harassment, if you’re worried about that.”

  He needed to be clear. “I know you and I have partnered up for the anniversary celebrations―”

  “Have I mentioned how excited I am about that?”

  When she moved to press her palms against his chest, Jax caught her hands, held them tight. Her lips parted and gaze grew smoky. Not a good sign.

  “I have feelings for someone else,” he said.

  Genuine compassion flooded her face. “The woman who died that night. Elise, wasn’t it?” She nodded deeply. “I understand. That must take time―”

  “I have feelings for Belinda Slade.” Margo frowned, obviously trying to place the name. “The girl―woman, who broke into the Lodge. The waiter in a wig.”

  Margo’s eyes widened, and then she coughed out a humorless laugh. “You mean she’s been following you, hounding you, all this time? I knew she was after something big. The little witch was after you.”

  “Billy only wanted to right a wrong. Be able to move on with her life.” He’d helped her find the truth.

  And Jax was glad they’d met, even if it meant trying get along now without her antics, her smile and, well, her love.

  That’s how he felt about it, anyway. They hadn’t known each other long. The words were never said...

  Stiff now, Margo was looking around the room. “Is she here?”

  “Billy’s gone. Or will be soon. Moving to L.A.”

  Margo’s eyes began to glisten. “Are you in love with her, Jax?”

  Jax remembered back to that first day, to how intrigued he’d been by practically everything about Belinda Slade. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d enjoyed working with her...solving her mystery. But that was only part of it. As it turned out, the much lesser part.

  Margo cupped his cheek as if she had one more try left in her. But then she lowered her hand, hitched her leather tote strap higher on her shoulder and, with measured steps, headed for the door. Jax rolled back his shoulders and followed.

  After opening the front door, Margo turned to him. Her expression was calm and poised.

  “I don’t want to leave you in the lurch,” she said, “but I’m afraid it’s time I moved on, too. I’ll finish organizing the party, tie up a few loose ends...”

  “Margo…” What could he say, except...maybe this was best. “I’m sorry to see you go.”

  Her lips trembled but she held her smile. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  When she was on the porch, she glanced back over her shoulder at him. “This might be your lucky day.”

  Jax had no idea what Margo meant. Until he saw another woman walking up his path. The one person in the world he wanted to see. Wanted to hold and kiss and so much more.

  But when their gazes met and Billy gave a nondescript smile, he felt punched in the throat. Billy wasn’t here to reconcile. To tell him that she’d changed her mind and was staying. Well, of course not. Billy had had her heart set on acting long before they’d met. She deserved to succeed. Be fulfilled.

  Most likely, she’d come to sort out something more about her case. Maybe something to do with the insurance.

  Passing, the women offered each other a cordial nod, and then Billy took the half dozen porch steps to stand there right in front of him. Already, Jax could feel her in his arms, taste her on his lips...

  Jax scrubbed his jaw.

  He needed to get that out of his head right now.

  So he forced a cheeky grin, found a joke. “Am I under surveillance, Miss Slade?”

  She smiled. “I brought a house renovating gift.”

  While he couldn’t do anything to
stop his heart from crashing against his ribs, Jax kept his smile a few degrees above cool.

  “Sure. Got time to come in?”

  “I have time.”

  He led her inside, into the mess he called the living room. “Want a coffee? A beer?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  With his smile still hanging in place, he folded his arms over his chest and asked, “You need to be some place?”

  “Only back to packing.”

  Jax’s jaw clenched so tight, his back molars cried out. “Actually I thought you might already be gone by now.” When she lowered her gaze, he growled at himself. Idiot. Sounding defensive wouldn’t help.

  He put a supportive note into his voice. “Hey, did you contact Emma’s friend in L.A. about that place to stay?”

  “Uh-huh. He still has a room.”

  Jax’s smile wavered before he tacked it back up. “That’s–great.”

  She slipped the bag off her shoulder. “Anyway...that gift.”

  She was about to draw something out and hand it over when she noticed the stained glass panel, like Margo had done earlier.

  “Wow. It’s all finished.”

  “Pretty much.” He tapped the one piece left to solder–the part that read Jax’s.

  “When are you fitting it in above the door?”

  “Soon.” She cocked her head to look at it from a different angle and then she shifted again. “I know,” he said, reading her mind. “Something doesn’t quite work.”

  “The colors look great.”

  Peppermint green and crimson. “Not the colors.”

  “The crinkly glass goes well with the clear stuff.”

  He nodded, frowned and then shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

  She was digging in her bag again. “Maybe I can help.”

  She drew out a piece of cut glass much like the glass he was using. There was a word on this piece, too. When she handed it over, he held it up to the light. For a minute, he was confused. And then wary. He had to be getting this wrong.

  He lowered the glass. “This says Our. As in–”