Becca sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Please, Crys,” she said, but it came out more like she was begging than trying to sound confident. “I’m just having a bad hair day. No need for the name calling.”
“Do bad hair days usually result in that bleak look in your eye and those dark circles that are making you look like a raccoon?” Huffing, Crystalle crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I don’t think so. You’d better tell me what’s going on right now.” Her face softening in sympathy, she leaned forward a little. “Is it Ethan again? Is that boy giving you a hard time?”
“No.” A small smile curled the edges of Becca’s lips. Jericho had taken good care of her Ethan problem – she hadn’t heard hide nor hair of her ex since the night Jericho had scared the shit out of him. But the smile quickly disappeared. “It’s… it’s someone else.”
“Someone else is giving you a hard time?” Indignant, Crystalle straightened in her chair. “Who?”
Laughing a little at her friend’s protective streak despite herself, she shook her head. “No one’s giving me a hard time. It’s just that I met someone, and he’s gone now… and I’m having a bit of a hard time with it.”
Crystalle’s mouth formed a little ‘o’. “You met someone?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who? When? I don’t see how you could have possibly found the time…”
“It was that client you were drooling about last weekend,” Becca interrupted. “You know, the one who you were saying I should jump into the sack with. Jericho Knight.”
“Oh!” Excitement lit Crystalle’s eyes. “So you jumped in bed with him, just like I said you should! Oh, I knew you had it in you!” She clapped her hands and practically squealed, and then stopped, some of the excitement dying away. “Except that he broke your heart, didn’t he?” Her eyes darkened. “What did he do to you, Becca?”
Becca sighed. “Nothing. We had a great time. But then he had to go back home… and I’m still here. Having to forget him…having to pretend nothing happened between us.”
“Oh.” Understanding softened Crystalle’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. That must be terribly hard.”
Becca bit her lip. “He sent me flowers the other day. And a round trip ticket to Chicago, to spend the weekend with him.”
Crystalle’s jaw dropped. “And you didn’t ask me to put in for the time off?”
Becca looked away. “I hadn’t decided to go.” Pulling the tickets out of her purse, she looked down at them again for the umpteenth time. She’d meant to rip them up and throw them away, but every time she looked at them she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
Crystalle jumped up out of her chair and bustled around her desk. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “You weren’t kidding.” She stared at the tickets, and then tapped Becca on the shoulder. “What are you still doing here? That flight leaves in six hours!”
Becca gaped up at her, confused. “You’re saying I should go?”
Crystalle scowled at her. “Of course you should go! What is wrong with you?”
Becca glanced down at the tickets, then back up at her boss. “But the weekend is our busiest time – ”
“Really? Who cares about that? Besides, you haven’t taken a vacation in over a year, so you’re long past due for some time off.” Crystalle took Becca by the upper arm and pulled her out of her chair. “You get on that plane and show that glorious hunk of a man just how much he’s missing. By the time you’re done with him, he’ll be begging to get on a plane and come back home with you. That’s how special you are. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Becca’s smile widened. “You really think this can all work out?”
Crystalle shrugged. “I really can’t say. But you’re never going to know if you don’t give it a chance. Now go!”
Chapter Thirteen
Jericho gritted his teeth as the phone in his pocket buzzed. Checking the time on his dash’s digital readout, his blood pressure spiked a little as he noticed he was five minutes late to pick up Ravena.
That’s probably why she’s calling, he groused to himself as he fished his phone out of his pocket while simultaneously navigating through the jammed streets of Chicago during rush hour. Damn traffic. He should have left at least a half-hour earlier, but without Emerson – who’d had plans for the evening already – to get on his case about being on time, he’d lost track of the hour.
Of course, his being late also might have had something to do with the fact that he didn’t actually want to see Ravena at all.
Swiping at the screen, he expected to see a missed call, but instead there was a text message from an unknown number. An international number.
A horn blared, and he glanced up from the screen, and then slammed on his brakes as he realized he’d crossed into the middle of the intersection on a red light. Jamming the car into reverse, he hastily shot backwards and out of the path of an SUV manned by a rather angry-looking housewife who jabbed a one-fingered salute in his direction.
Yeah, okay. So I deserved that.
Unwilling to cause an accident, he laid the phone face down on the passenger’s seat and waited until he could pull over into a safe spot before he looked at it. Parking the car in a red zone, he killed the engine, the snatched the phone up again and pulled up the text message.
“Got your flowers. I’m at the airport now. Pick me up at Terminal 7? :)”
Pure excitement blasted through the sludge of misery that had been clogging his chest for the past few days. A mile-wide grin spread across his face, lighting up his eyes as he realized his wish had come true. “Holy shit. She’s here. In Chicago.”
Ravena is waiting for you.
Cursing, he pulled out his phone and shot Ravena a quick text.
“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”
His knew Ravena would be furious that he was canceling, never mind that he was doing so to spend time with another she-bear – but he really didn’t care. He hit the send button, and then composed another text for Becca.
“Sit tight. I’m on my way.”
It took him another hour of fighting through snarled traffic to get to the airport, but the sight of Becca standing at the curb, one hand on a bright red suitcase, as she scanned the lines of cars, lifted the tension headache from his throbbing temples and brought a smile to his face. She wore a dandelion-yellow sundress, her reddish brown hair loose around her heart-shaped face, and looked deliciously fresh for a woman who’d just hopped a transcontinental flight and traveled over four thousand miles to see him.
Her whiskey eyes lit as she spotted him in the crowd, and she lifted an elegant hand to wave to him. Jericho thought his heart would burst from all the excitement; he barely had the car parked before he hopped out and pulled her into his arms.
“Becca. I’ve missed you so much.” Her sweet vanilla-cinnamon scent enveloped him, as if welcoming him home, and unable to wait any longer, he crushed his mouth against hers and kissed her as though this were the first and last time he ever would.
* * *
The bundle of raw nerves that rustled in Becca’s chest evaporated instantly when Jericho took her into his arms, and kissed her with every ounce of passion he’d ever showed her during their time together in Paris. The sheer emotion that flowed through his body, and into hers, eradicated every doubt and fear she’d had that he wouldn’t show up, or that the spark between them might have faded even one iota. Their passion burned bright as ever, so bright she was surprised their clothes hadn’t incinerated on the spot as soon as he’d touched his lips to hers.
Now that would have made quite a spectacle, she mused, her lips curving against his.
He pulled back and traced his fingers along the lines of her mouth. “You’re smiling,” he said, his gorgeous blue eyes dancing.
She grinned up at him. “I’m just so happy to see you. I was worried you would leave me stranded at the airport.”
He gro
wled, his eyes lit by the excitement that she was finally standing here, in front of him. “I would never do that to you.” Reaching around her, he lifted her suitcase and then walked around the side of the car so he could put it in the trunk. “Go on and get into the car,” he called. “I’ll be right in.”
Nodding, she approached the sleek Audi R8 with a kind of reverence, even running her hand across the shiny silver exterior before sliding into the car. She even double checked her dress to make sure there was nothing on it to scratch the red leather of the interior, and then sank back into the chair with a sigh.
When Jericho entered the vehicle, she was fully reclined in the seat, her eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss on her face. He arched a brow when she actually groaned, shifting in the seat a little bit.
“Enjoying the massage feature?” he asked, unable to resist teasing her a little.
She opened a lazy eye. “It’s genius. I didn’t even think cars had these.”
Jericho smiled slyly at her. “It’s not a standard feature on the Audi R8… but they were kind enough to customize it for me.”
Becca considered that as Jericho shifted the car into gear and slowly eased his way into airport traffic. She knew that Jericho wasn’t exactly pinching pennies or anything, but now she was getting the idea that he wasn’t just pulling in a good salary, but that he might actually be very wealthy. She pursed her lips as she eyed the expensive suit he was wearing. Looked like Armani, and definitely not something you pulled out of your closet for just any occasion.
“So did you dress up just to pick me up from the airport, or what?” she said, plucking at the mother of pearl buttons on his cuffs.
An uncomfortable expression rippled across Jericho’s face. “I was on my way to an… engagement, before I received your text.”
“Oh.” Her stomach shifted uneasily as it twitched with guilt. It didn’t occur to her that he might have made other plans after he didn’t hear back from her. “I’m sorry I messed up your evening.”
A smile blossomed across his face, and he took her hand in his to give it a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t mess up anything,” he said, a kind of quiet joy in his voice. “If anything, you made this night ten times better for me. I’ve never had a better excuse to skip out on a boring evening.”
She laughed a little. “Well then I’m glad to be of service then,” she said, and settled back in the cushy leather chair, her stomach settling again. “Where exactly are we headed?”
Jericho glanced sideways at her. “I thought we might grab a bite to eat. You are hungry, aren’t you?”
Becca nodded. “Famished. They served us lunch, but that was hours ago.”
“Excellent.” Jericho squeezed her hand again. “That means we can put that appetite of yours to good use.”
Becca thought they were swinging by a take-out joint or maybe a small restaurant on the way to Jericho’s apartment, so when he parked in the underground lot of a massive steel and glass high-rise building, she was puzzled. The confusion escalated when they entered a fancy elevator and Jericho pushed a button that went straight to the top floor.
“What are we doing here?”
“Eating,” Jericho explained, and then pushed her against the wall. “Though since we have a few minutes, we might as well use them wisely.”
He kissed her passionately, his tongue doing a dangerous tango with hers, and her heartbeat pounded wildly as his erection pressed into her hip. She had missed him so much, and the sensation of having his body pressing against hers, his masculine scent wrapping itself around her in a cocoon of desire, made her weak at the knees. She couldn’t get enough of him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, as he lowered his face to the crook of her neck and she shivered when his teeth grazed her skin and he bite down gently. She felt his breath against the side of her neck, just under her chin, as he whispered words to her of how much he missed her, and how happy he was that she was here.
“Not a day went by that you weren’t on my mind…I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and this,” he kissed her hard, his tongue ripping through her lips, as his hands gripped her ass, pulling her in tightly. “…this beautiful body, and how it feels in my hands.”
Moisture gathered between her legs as she throbbed, all the pent-up sexual frustration from the last few days shooting straight through her, causing her to shiver with her need for him.
When the elevator doors opened again, her face was flushed, and her hands flew to her mussed hair to try and pat it down in some semblance of order as Jericho pulled her into the lobby of what looked a hell of a lot like an upscale restaurant.
An ultra-upscale restaurant.
“Leave it,” Jericho murmured as he tucked her into the crook of his arm. “I think it looks sexy…especially since I’m the one who messed it up.” He approached the maître de, who was dressed in white and standing behind a kind of podium with a ledger on it. “My usual table, please.”
“Mr. Knight.” The elderly man’s eyes lit with recognition and warmth. “How wonderful to see you again.” He smiled at Becca, and if he thought she was a little underdressed to dine at the restaurant, he gave no indication. “Right this way.”
He led them through a maze of tables and chairs, many of them already occupied, and up a staircase to a second floor. Becca forced herself not to crane her neck as she looked all around – the place was dripping in crystal and gold and platinum, with midnight blue and white table cloths and chairs and matching flower arrangements, and a huge glass dome that arched over everything, offering them a panoramic view of the sky.
The maître de seated them at a table next to the glass that gave them a breathtaking view of the Chicago coastline. Becca’s gaze lingered on the skyline long after the waiter came and took their order for drinks, her eyes brushing against the streaks of color the sunset painted across the sky and the water.
“This is incredible,” she finally said when the waiter delivered their drinks and they’d ordered their food. She lifted her peach bellini to her mouth and took a sip, which then turned into a long drink.
“What is, the view or your drink?” he teased, his eyes sparkling.
“Both.” She lowered her drink, then reached across the table and grasped his hand. “Jericho,” she paused, and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, “I feel like you’re not being totally honest with me.”
Jericho didn’t take his eyes from her face as he lowered his own drink – a glass of red – to the table. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, but something like guilt flickered in his eyes, and she knew she had him.
“I think you do.” Becca lifted an eyebrow and looked around. “You sent me first-class tickets, picked me up in a very expensive car, and took me to a restaurant that serves hundred-dollar steaks. I get the idea that maybe you’re not just a high-paid lackey at a company.”
Jericho sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Oh, that.” He smiled at her, but she could see what looked like relief burning in the depths of his eyes, and it confused her. “ I just didn’t want you to think of me differently,” he began.
Becca squeezed his hand. “You promised you would explain everything if I came to see you,” she reminded him.
“I did.” Jericho took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. “I don’t just work for the family business, Becca. I own the family business.”
Becca nodded as he confirmed what she had suspected. “Is it really a real estate business?”
“One of the biggest in Chicago.” Jericho took another sip of his wine. “My father started it, and it was heading in a decent direction before we were embroiled in a long, drawn-out war with a rival clan that eventually got him killed. I inherited what was left of the business and turned it into what it is today.”
He spoke flatly, as if he was simply reciting facts, but Becca saw the pain that flared deep in his eyes, however briefly, and it made her heart ache. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she murmured, picking up his ha
nd and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “It must have been incredibly hard.
Jericho closed his eyes, savoring her touch. “It was,” he said, his voice rough. “But I made the best of a dire situation.” His eyes popped open. “I didn’t just inherit the business when my father died, Becca. I inherited the entire clan.”
“You what?” Becca’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything more the waiter bustled back in with their dishes. She waited until Jericho dismissed him before continuing, not even touching the shrimp that beckoned enticingly beneath her nose. “You… you’re a clan chieftain?”
Jericho inclined his head, flourishing his hand toward her as if he were making a bow. “Chieftain of the Moon Bay Clan, at your service.”
Holy shit. Becca only stared at Jericho, unable to twitch a single muscle. She was completely frozen in shock. From what she was able to surmise her sire had been fairly common stock, making her common stock as well. “What are you doing here with me?”
Jericho arched a brow. “I thought we’d have dinner,” he said, indicating her untouched food with his fork.
Becca didn’t even bother to roll her eyes at his flippancy. “You’re a clan chieftain,” she said again, more definitively. “You could have any she-bear you wanted, and in fact you have a duty to mate with the strongest female possible in order to strengthen your clan. So why would you have anything to do with me, a half-breed?”
Jericho scowled. “First of all, you know damn well that I do not, and have not ever cared that you’re a half-breed,” he said. “Just because you’re not a full were doesn’t mean you aren’t a strong female. And secondly,” he said in a quieter voice, “you are the she-bear that I want.”
Becca swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I can handle – ” she began, but Jericho cut her off by pressing a finger to her lip.
“Shh. You don’t have to make a decision right now.” He reached over and twirled some fettuccine onto his fork, then lifted it to her lips. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Eat something. It’ll help settle your nerves.”
Billion Dollar Bear Page 9
