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

Page 10

by Robyn Grady


  “Our Place.” Keeping her gaze on the glass, Billy rubbed her temple. “Lacie helped me with it. I’m not sure it’ll fit in with the other pieces.” Her uncertain gaze found his. “I thought I might put it out there and see.”

  He sucked back a deep breath. “Our Place. As in you and me. Us. Here.”

  Chewing her lip, she nodded.

  “What about L.A.?” he asked.

  “The truth is I’m not such a good actress. I need to move on. I have moved on.” She stepped closer. “Except where you’re concerned.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  His arms wound around her as his heart thumped higher in his chest. She felt so good.

  So incredibly safe.

  To think, two weeks ago, he’d almost chosen vengeance over hope. Coming face to face with Hurly Green, that devil on Jax’s shoulder had whispered and goaded non-stop. Bring him down. Do it for the woman who loved you. The tiny person who was robbed of a chance to live.

  But as he’d reached inside his jacket that night two weeks ago―as his fingers had coiled around hard cold metal―a sound had echoed up the street. Two teenage boys had been strolling down the sidewalk, laughing and telling some story. Brothers? Friends? Maybe cousins.

  When they’d gotten closer to Green, they’d simply crossed the street. Stayed away from trouble. And never looked back.

  Like Jax intended to do from now on.

  “You want to move in with me, Billy?”

  “I think it could be fun.”

  Her smile lit a fire through his veins. “I think it would be incredible.”

  “And maybe you could move in with me at the Point, too. We could have two homes, if that makes sense.”

  Yeah. It made perfect sense.

  He pulled her closer. Told himself this was real. It was happening.

  “When?” he asked.

  “Now sounds good.”

  He searched her eyes. “What are you wanting from this, Billy?” Marriage? He was certainly thinking along the lines of forever.

  “I thought we could work it out together along the way.”

  When she knotted a hand in the front of his shirt and dragged herself up, he tightened his hold around her waist and lifted her off her feet until his mouth covered hers...and, suddenly, absolutely everything seemed right in the world.

  When the kiss broke, it took a while for Jax to open his eyes. He wanted to hold onto this feeling. But he knew it would last. It had that kind of depth. That level of calm as well as excitement.

  “I have one more question for you,” he said, before tasting her lips again.

  “Hang on.” She roped her arms around his neck and sprang up enough to wrap her legs around his hips. He adjusted her sit and then pulled her in tight against his belt.

  “Okay,” she said. “Go.”

  “Are you looking for a job?”

  She winced. “Book-keeping?”

  “I need a forward thinking individual to help with promotion, public relations and entertainment.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, Jax, your club really isn’t my scene.”

  He hitched her higher on his hips. “I think The M Lodge could only benefit from an infusion of someone with your talent.”

  “This isn’t a sympathy vote for an out of work wannabee thespian, is it?”

  “It’s a vote of confidence from someone who thinks you’re incredibly gifted.” He tasted her lips. “Amazingly special.” The next taste lasted longer. “Awesomely awesome.”

  She laughed. “You do great things for my ego, you know that?”

  “I want to do great things for more than your ego. But first I’ll need to learn everything about you. Everything you want and need and dream.”

  She dragged her fingers up through the back of his hair. “Sweet angel, I’m all yours.”

  Epilogue

  “Here they come,” Jax told Billy, slotting an arm around her back. “Finally you get to meet Hector Garfield.”

  Tonight The M Lodge was a long way from being the sombre establishment Portland had come to know. At this anniversary partners-included-evening, the place was pumping with music that ranged from 60s classics to dump step greats. Champagne was flowing non-stop, and Jax Angel was filling out a tuxedo in a way that would make James Bond pout.

  Every woman he passed gave him a second, and then a third look.

  Billy had chosen an evening gown that made her feel every inch the princess...a pearl-colored sheath with diamante halter neck straps. Jax had told her that she had never looked more stunning.

  She knew for a fact she had never felt more happy.

  Now, watching Hector Garfield and his wife approach, Billy pulled up tall. She wanted to thank this man for his help. She wanted to thank them both. Without the name of that defunct shop, she and Jax might never have found an answer to that long asked question. Billy would never have felt as if her mother could finally rest in peace.

  Hector Garfield nodded a greeting. “Jax, this is my wife, Eugenie,” he said. “After tonight, she’s a huge fan of yours.”

  “I never thought I’d get to see inside these hallowed halls,” Mrs. Garfield joked.

  Jax introduced his date. “This is Belinda Slade. Billy’s taking over our public relations position. I mentioned that she’d be here tonight.”

  Jax had let patrons know that Margo Quinn had resigned. When he’d told Margo that Billy was stepping into the role, she had graciously bowed out early.

  Garfield said, “So, you’re the young woman who tried to hunt me down in here that day.”

  “I apologise for that,” Billy said.

  “Full marks for creativity,” Garfield replied. “I was glad to hear from Jax that you solved the mystery surrounding the disappearance of your heirloom ring.”

  Billy addressed them both. “You made all the difference.”

  Since finally putting the past to rest, she and Ann had become closer than ever. Billy and Jax had even had dinner at “The Palace” and on Ann’s best ‘super special guest’ crockery, which said a lot. The guys got along well, too. Jax understood how things had swung out of control. And Billy could tell he was quietly chuffed over Rick’s obvious interest in his endless P.I. stories.

  Garfield leaned closer. “Eugenie believes she has something that will make an even bigger difference.”

  From her sequinned evening purse, Mrs. Garfield withdrew a small box. Smiling as she opened the lid, she offered Billy the contents. “I just love reunions,” Mrs. Garfield said.

  Billy’s heart contracted and squeezed up to her throat. She wanted to sweep that ruby and pearl ring up so badly, her hands were trembling.

  “This is so generous, Mrs. Garfield,” Billy began. “You can’t imagine how much this means. But...” She exhaled. “I just can’t. Insurance money was paid out and—”

  Mrs. Garfield interrupted. “Nothing alters the fact that this, my dear, belongs to you.”

  When Mrs. Garfield found Billy’s hand and slipped the ring on a finger, Billy’s throat clogged with emotion―mostly gratitude as well as relief. So many times she had imagined this moment. Imagined how happy her mom would have been that the tradition could continue sometime in the future.

  Hopefully with Jax.

  As the Garfields set off to mingle, Jax threaded an arm though Billy’s and ushered her onto the dance floor. But as he bought her close and moved her around in a tight, wonderfully intimate circle, she couldn’t take her eyes off the hand resting on his shoulder. She couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Turns out the Garfields have big hearts.”

  Jax murmured, “I only know you’ve stolen mine.”

  She cocked a brow. “That’s good, because I need to tell you about my plan.”

  “Does it involve moving away?”

  “I’m good with Point St. Claire, and Our Place, for now.”

  “So, you want to solve another cold case?”

  “Actually, my plan involves a stage production.”

/>   “With a pole?”

  “With you.”

  “Uh, no. I’m not Thain. I don’t do the stage thing, remember?”

  She laughed. “Just listen. I want to put on a detective spoof production here. It’ll be heaps of fun. We can sell tickets to members and friends and raise money for charity.”

  “Well, in that case, count me in. Completely. Any time, anywhere,” he nuzzled against her temple, “any way you say.”

  As he rotated her around and brought her closer still, she sighed. “So, All’s well that ends well.”

  “Here’s a better line.” Among so many others on the dance floor, he kissed her like there was no one and nothing else in this world. When his mouth left hers, he brushed his smile over her lips. “How about I’m insanely in love with you.”

  A thrill rippled through her, so beautiful and pure, tears backed up behind her eyes. In love? “You are?”

  “Actually, your line is, I’m crazy-nuts in love with you, too.”

  “Completely.” Forever. She cupped his gorgeous jaw and sighed. “Sometimes I can’t believe I found you.”

  When his head dropped over hers, she melted into his kiss, embraced the joy...lived that dream.

  And when the night drew to a close and the last of the guests had left, Billy hadn’t had nearly enough. Amidst the dimming lights, she took Jax’s hand and tried to tug him away from the main area. She grinned over her shoulder.

  “You coming, boss?”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To the place it all began.”

  Grinning, Jax swept her up into arms and managed to grab a towel on the way.

  *

  Enjoy this

  Billionaire for Keeps Excerpt

  Book 3

  The Point St. Claire Romance Series

  ON HIS WAY to the mansion’s forecourt steps, Griffin Hayes stopped, turned around, and then whipped the shades from his eyes. A motorcycle was screaming in through the mansion’s crested gates, louder and meaner than a demon from hell.

  Griffin was known for his cool. He didn’t flinch―not when it came to destroying a rival during a multi-billion dollar takeover deal. Not even when his mom, visiting from small town Maine, called him ‘Giffy’ in the company of Boston’s elite. But as that motorcycle’s rear tire slid out now, and burning rubber squealed closer to his mirror-polished shoes, Griffin behaved like any other man who planned to light a few candles when his next birthday swung around.

  He threw up a prayer and dived out the way.

  The bike’s engine cut off. A stand snapped down. When the full helmet was removed, a fall of red hair tumbled down to a pair of memorable leather-clad hips.

  Running a hand through his own hair, Griffin groaned. He would make a pact with the devil to avoid speaking with Vanessa today―of all days. She made it hard to think. Hard to focus.

  She made him hard, end of story.

  Griffin was here to do business with Ronan Toomey, who openly referred to this woman, his only child, as ‘Nessa, the wild one’, a twenty-six-year-old who, to quote Ronan, needed a strong man to help guide her. In other words, tame her. Given Griffin’s hand-on experience with the lady in question, which had ended none-too-sweetly one month ago―good luck with that.

  Pulling up tall, he nodded a stiff greeting. Vanessa and her sheer, white, billowing blouse stalked straight past. Knee-high multi-buckled boots jangled as she mounted the steps two at a time. The way her behind rocked those black leather pants as she climbed had every one of his muscles flexing with want.

  By the time she’d reached the soaring double front doors, however, a chill had scuttled up Griffin’s spine. Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Ronan Toomey had assured him, hand on heart. His fiercely independent daughter was a successful business person in her own right. Griffin knew himself, Vanessa had no interest in running her father’s Forbes 500 company, Toomey Constructions.

  Still, Ronan had agreed. Vanessa should be informed only after the deal was done. If she found out beforehand, she’d move mountains to end it, for more reasons than one.

  Of course, Vanessa might be here for completely innocent reasons. Everyday family matters of no real consequence. Some trifling that wouldn’t destroy the thousand and one intricate moves he and Ronan had made to arrive at this crucial point in negotiations.

  Knowing Vanessa, not likely.

  Griffin reached the foot of the steps at the same time Vanessa bolted inside. A member of the house staff stood clutching her throat as she watched the younger woman disappear, a rabbit sprinting through an opulent maze. Striding into the massive gold-brushed foyer, Griffin pocketed his shades, set his jaw.

  “Where’s Mr. Toomey?”

  The woman’s face was as pale as the Italian marble floor. “Mr. Hayes.” She took a jittery breath, wobbled it out. “Mr. Toomey’s in his office. He said to bring you through as soon as you arrived. But his daughter—Vanessa…well, something’s happened—”

  Griffin didn’t wait to hear more. But with a head start advantage, Vanessa got there first.

  Rather than sitting behind his oak desk, Ronan was slumped in a recliner by French windows overlooking a garden facing east. His daughter stood by the windows, hugging herself even while she held her head high. A defiant princess, proud and, right now, dangerous.

  Her voice was choked, thick with emotion. “You should have told me, Dad. I had a right to know.”

  Ronan’s tie hung loose around the collar of his business shirt. Glancing across, he saw Griffin and summoned a weary smile that said, Well, we tried. “Morning, son. Come in. Nessa’s here.”

  Griffin grinned. “We, uh, almost ran into each other a moment ago.”

  With long legs braced apart, Vanessa faced the window while Griffin’s mind raced on. Somehow she’d found out about the deal. For personal and professional reasons, she’d want it stopped dead in its tracks. Aside from Griffin being at the top of her hope you die list, Toomey Constructions would be worth double ten years from now. Even triple.

  But this wasn’t her decision. Her father needed out, and he needed out now.

  There really was no other way.

  Vanessa finally faced him. Glistening green eyes flashed as they zeroed in on his. He’d expected a show of blazing defiance. Instead, standing in a stream of morning light, dainty hands fisted by her sides, she looked somehow lost. Almost frightened.

  “Get out of here, Griffin,” she ground out. “For God’s sake, leave us alone.”

  Her father spoke up. “Nessa, Griffin’s here to―”

  “I don’t care about Griffin.” She dropped down beside her father, held his hand between both of hers. “I care about you.”

  Toomey stroked his daughter’s crown. “I know, sweetheart. I know. But Griffin and I…we need to talk.”

  “You can talk later.” When Ronan tried to stand, she shook her head, kissed his hand. “Don’t get worked up. Help’s on its way.”

  Griffin stiffened.

  Did she say help? As in legal help? Her lawyer? But the way she was biting her lip, her eyes rimmed with tears… This was not the Vanessa he had come to know. The fireball who drove him nuts. The woman he still ached for in the middle of every night.

  But then the pieces of this puzzle fell into place and a flood of ice-cold dread washed through his veins. The anguish in her eyes...Ronan slumped up in that chair…

  Vanessa wasn’t here to kill the deal.

  The problem was far worse than that.

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  MAID FOR A PRINCE

  Point St. Claire Series

  where true love finds a way

  Book 1

  BILLIONAIRE FOR KEEPS

  Point St. Claire Series

  where true love finds a way

  Book 3

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  Chapter 1

  “I GET THAT you’re one of the richest guys in California. I’ve read the gossip mags that say you party with movie stars and vacation with royalty. But I’ve already told that committee person when she rang. I can’t go out on a date with you. Not for any reason. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  As the florist, her apron and those eye-catching curves breezed away, Xander Drake scratched his head. In childhood, his IQ had been placed in the “gifted” range. As an adult, his venture capitalist exploits had enjoyed a ninety-eight percent success rate. More recently, Alexander Drake had been lauded as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. Even his family behaved.

  The ones who were left.

  The point was he didn’t have leprosy, and considering Brooke Hart had put herself forward for this date, frankly, her attitude sucked.

  “You remember this is for charity, right?” Xander said, following Ms. Hart to the display refrigerator, which housed too many flowers of various colors and shapes to count. “You entered your name in the random draw.”

  “Like I told that woman—I didn’t enter anything.” Opening the unit’s glass door, she gave a tight smile. “I don’t gamble.”

  “Even after the fact, when you know that you won?”

  Choosing a long-stemmed something-or-other from a bucket, she turned to face him. “Guess that depends on your idea of a win.”

  Her expressive eyes were green and fresh, similar to the nearby backdrop of fern framing her head. Her lips were naturally plump in a near irresistible way. Dimples set below a pair of flushed apple-cheeks were icing on the cake.

  Xander had known his share of attractive women. Long, glossy hair. Noteworthy intellect. Something as simple as a laugh might intrigue him. Discovering “the entire package,” however, was a whole other ballgame. Personality, looks, chemistry that sizzled with no more than a touch...

 

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