Breathless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #1)

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Breathless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #1) Page 7

by Bella Andre


  Slow, steady, rational—that was what had worked for Harper and Jeremy for the past several years, and she couldn’t risk messing up anything for the two of them. Especially not with a man like Will, whom she sincerely doubted had the long haul on his mind.

  It all made perfect sense in her head. Unfortunately, however, neither perfect sense nor the much slower ride back down the peninsula to her house did a darned thing to help quench her thirst for more of Will.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Other than a text saying how much he’d enjoyed their date, Will deliberately left Harper alone for a few days to think things through. She’d told him she wanted time. So he forced himself to give it to her, even though the need to hear her voice was like an ache inside him.

  As for Jeremy, Will didn’t want her brother to think he’d been forgotten, so they’d talked cars over Skype a couple of times, and had emailed, as well. Will figured that Harper must be reading his emails because she’d said Jeremy sometimes needed help with the computer. He didn’t use big words, but everything was spelled correctly, as though Harper had made him run spell check before hitting Send. Will enjoyed Jeremy’s emails. He was always upbeat, always excited about whatever car picture or information Will sent him.

  What a way to live, seeing only the good.

  Needing to wait a few more minutes until midnight to make his call to Italy, Will spent the time thinking about Harper, a pastime that had become almost like breathing. She’d been perfect on their date, from beginning to end. She’d looked—and tasted—like a fantasy. He knew he could have pushed for more in the wake of their kiss, could have stripped her bare in the moonlight, could have tasted her soft skin everywhere and taken her straight to heaven. But despite how much he’d wanted to do just that, he’d also known it meant risking any ground he’d gained with her over dinner.

  And even though they’d only just met, he wasn’t willing to chance losing Harper.

  Instead, he wanted to know her—wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her sigh, what heated her up, and what cooled her down.

  Sitting alone in his office, he had to fight the urge to call her. Three days, and he’d missed her like hell. He’d never called a woman just to hear her voice. Will enjoyed women, of course. But it had always seemed that one female was much the same as another.

  Until a smile—and a kiss—from Harper had rocked his world.

  Lord, he loved the way she’d practically dived on him, with no restraint, no hesitation. He knew her focus was on Jeremy and her job, and that her needs always came second to those. But for a few moments when she’d been in his arms, nothing had held her back.

  At least, not until she’d realized how fast they were going, hitting the gas harder than any race car driver ever had. Will loved speed, lived for it, knew he needed the rush to keep his secret darkness from spiraling out of control again the way it had when he was a teenager. But though speed clearly called to Harper, too, she fought like hell against it. He understood her reasons in the wake of her brother’s and parents’ crashes, and yet he couldn’t help but want her to embrace the rush and the thrill again with him. The same way she’d embraced him for those few precious moments by the aqueduct—with nothing held back.

  The truth was, however, that Harper wasn’t the only one who needed time. Will needed it, as well, to force himself to think through his own intentions from all angles.

  He’d never romanced a woman before, never pursued one with unwavering focus. The press assumed it was because he was a player, and thankfully they’d never dug deeply into his reasons for keeping all of his relationships on the surface. He’d never let the women he’d been with before Harper get close enough to find out his real story, either.

  But if he pursued Harper—if he romanced her, and also helped her tap into that secret well of wildness and passion that he believed ran deep and true inside of her, the way his every instinct demanded—how long would he be able to keep his past hidden? How fast would she leave him if she ever found out what he was really made of and the sins that tainted his soul?

  He wished with everything he was that he could rewind the clock, back to that day with the Road Warriors when everything had spiraled so far out of control. But he couldn’t have a do-over. He hadn’t saved that kid. He hadn’t saved the Road Warriors.

  And he sure as hell hadn’t saved his own soul.

  Will couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Harper in any way. He would never forgive himself if he did. And yet, everything inside of him rebelled at the thought of letting her walk permanently out of his life. Somehow, he needed to find a way to get closer to her while still keeping her safe.

  He’d walked a lot of fine lines in his life, but he had a feeling this one just might be the trickiest line of all. Not to mention the most important.

  Will’s computer beeped. Midnight. Time for his call. He clicked it into life and a grizzled face appeared on the screen.

  “Mr. Franconi, I hope you are having a pleasant evening. I received your email. And the attachments.”

  Though he lived in Italy, Rupert Rivoli was French, and his lilting accent had turned to gravel with age and cigars. He could have been anywhere from fifty to eighty. His skin was slightly sallow and dark pouches bloomed beneath his eyes. But he was the best of the best. After getting his contact info from Daniel, Will had researched the man. Rupert had been a master craftsman at Maserati—a miracle worker.

  Will had a miracle of his own he wanted the man to perform. “Can it be done, Rupert? Can you make me a Birdcage Maserati kit?”

  “Of course it can be done, Mr. Franconi.” He sounded almost offended. “It is only a matter of money. And time.”

  “Money is no object. And I’ll pay to have it as quickly as possible.”

  “You understand I will have to coordinate my work with commissioning the engine, transmission, and other parts. It is not a small undertaking, Mr. Franconi.”

  “That’s why I’ll pay you whatever you need to get it done. We can start with the chassis and sheet metal pieces. Then I’ll need to lay in all the wiring. You can take longer to get the engine and transmission. Tell your crew I’ll give a bonus for early delivery.”

  The older man wagged his head, staring down at the schematics Will had sent. “These will have to be modified for what you want.”

  During the past couple of days, Will had combed the Internet for a similar racing model. What he wanted, though, was much more specialized. “You’re the only man who can do this.” It wasn’t flattery, it was true.

  “I will try, Mr. Franconi, but my shop has customers.”

  Rupert’s shop was damn near a factory. He was the largest employer in his small town. He had a reputation for overseeing every project like a hawk. Will had a feeling the man would be so intrigued by the project that he’d do a lot of the work himself.

  “I’m willing to pay to get this design first in line. I’ll even pay your customers a wait fee, if that’s what it takes.”

  “You make an offer a man cannot refuse. But what is the penalty if I discover I cannot deliver on time?”

  There was always a penalty clause. But Will was asking for a miracle. “No penalty. Just give me your honest estimate, and I’ll work with that. Keep in mind that this is a present for a teenage boy. And I don’t want him disappointed.” Which was why Will would approach Harper about the car after it was a done deal. He didn’t want to get Jeremy’s hopes up only to crush them later.

  Rupert nodded gravely. “Your son is a lucky boy.”

  “Not my son. A friend.”

  “Then he is very lucky to have a friend like you. I will do my best. You will hear from me by the end of the week.”

  Will was the lucky one. For the first time in years, he felt major excitement stirring in his gut. It was partly the new project. It was partly doing something that would mean so much to someone else. It would be the look on Jeremy’s face when he invited the kid to help build the Birdcage Maserati.

>   But most of all, it was Harper.

  * * *

  Working from home, Harper’s Thursday morning had been so full with phone interviews and follow-ups for her recruiting company that she hadn’t even folded the weekend’s laundry. Too often, she didn’t finish putting away the previous week’s clean clothes before she had to wash the current week’s dirty ones.

  She pushed her hair out of her face as she stared in dismay at the mess in the family room. On the coffee table, Jeremy’s coloring book and crayons were a hodgepodge of color. The kitchen bar was littered with papers, lists, notes, and several days’ worth of junk mail. She really needed to weed out the important stuff and toss the rest. But housecleaning was always at the bottom of the to-do list.

  This afternoon, she told herself. And this time she meant it.

  Now, where was the Gordon resume? She could have sworn it was on the dining table, which served as her desk. Back in the dining room, she sat down at her computer to reprint the resume.

  She hadn’t been quite this disorganized in the past when she’d gone into an office every day, but at home things sometimes got away from her. Jeremy often dropped his notebook on top of her work, and he’d been known to accidentally grab her papers along with his homework. He’d also been using the computer to email Will, who had come up with the brilliant idea to use Skype, too.

  Will.

  He always told Jeremy to tell her he said hi, but Harper hadn’t spoken directly to Will since their dinner at Cannelli’s. Not since she’d thrown herself at him by the water temple...and then completely freaked out.

  She was still embarrassed at the way she’d acted on their first—and only—date. Throwing herself at a man, and then flip-flopping back to being stone cold, wasn’t like her at all. She wanted to apologize for her behavior at the same time that she wished she could forget all about it.

  In any case, it was very nice of Will to continue corresponding with Jeremy even though he didn’t want to go out with her again. And it was all for the best that they didn’t become more deeply involved, of course. It was taking everything she had to keep her and Jeremy’s life together as it was. She didn’t need to add a complication like Will Franconi to her personal life.

  Unfortunately, just because she didn’t need something didn’t mean she didn’t want it...

  “Okay, stop thinking.” Especially when her thoughts were going round and round in circles about a man she could never have. “You’ve got work to do.”

  She’d just found the resume buried deep in her email inbox and was about to print it out again when the doorbell rang. She glanced at her watch. Had she forgotten an appointment? Or maybe it was Trish?

  Harper opened the door to find Will standing there, beyond scrumptious in a dark suit, charcoal shirt, and black tie. He had been mouthwatering in jeans, but in a suit and tie...oh my...he was downright edible. She felt the impact, and the heat of him, low in her belly.

  Like a match striking to life with a sizzle and a hiss.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “What are you doing here?” Harper realized how rude it sounded as soon as the words came out, but fortunately Will didn’t seem at all put off.

  “I was on my way to a meeting. But I wanted to talk to you about a new project first.”

  “A new project?”

  “It’s for Jeremy.”

  “Jeremy,” she echoed, still feeling totally off balance at his unexpected visit.

  “May I come in?”

  She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. The house. The mess. She was about to be a whole lot more embarrassed in a minute. But Will’s visit was about Jeremy, so she couldn’t leave him standing outside.

  “Of course.” She opened the door wide, gesturing him inside.

  The foyer was a muddle of sneakers. She made Jeremy remove his shoes when he came in, and he never seemed to wear the same pair until several were scattered about. To the right of the front hall, the dining room table held its usual clutter.

  She caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. Her hair was brushed, thank God, but she hadn’t put on a speck of makeup, and she’d dressed in leggings, an oversized green sweater that hung to her thighs, and very unsexy striped toe socks.

  “Sorry, I was working,” she said to try to explain away the piles of folders and papers. “Can I get you some coffee?” Too late, after he nodded, she realized she couldn’t take him back there, with the overflowing laundry, the upended box of crayons, the untidy breakfast bar. And the full kitchen sink. “I’ll be back in a minute. Why don’t you have a seat in the living room?” It was the only neat room in the house because she and Jeremy never used it.

  “You don’t have to bring it to me,” Will said. “I can pour.” And when he followed her down the hall, there was no way to stop him other than throwing herself at him again...a thought that was far too tempting.

  “Sorry,” she felt compelled to say again as she spread her arms to encompass the whole misbegotten family room. “I’m not usually this messy.”

  “I meant it when I said that you don’t have to keep apologizing to me. Not for anything.” He put a finger to her lips, zinging her with an electric jolt of awareness that stopped her breath right in her chest. “If you don’t stop apologizing soon, I promise I’m going to have to find another way to make you stop.”

  She knew she shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t push him to see if he meant it, shouldn’t do anything to encourage his interest in her...but just as she hadn’t been able to say no to a dinner with him, now she couldn’t keep the word “Sorry,” from leaving her lips.

  Saying the word again was a dare, one he immediately rose to, as he pressed his mouth to hers for one perfect second. “Like I said, I always keep my promises.” She was still trying to find her breath when he asked, “Mugs?”

  With her brain still muddled from the teeny, tiny little kiss he’d just given her, she somehow managed to send a signal to her hands to point to the cupboard. Will pulled down one flowered mug and one with black and white stripes.

  He filled the flowery mug with coffee from the pot on her counter, then stared into the other one. “There’s something in this cup.”

  “It’s a zebra.” By the time she came around him and reached into the cupboard, her synapses were firing again, thank God. Though she still didn’t understand why he’d kissed her if he was only here to discuss something that concerned her brother. “There’s also a giraffe, an elephant, and a tiger.” She pulled down the mugs to show him the ceramic creatures in each. “Jeremy likes the surprise at the bottom of the cup. I have to admit I like them, too.”

  “I’d rather be the tiger,” Will said with complete seriousness, and poured into that mug instead.

  She laughed, and when he grinned with her, a great deal of the tension she’d been feeling since she’d opened the door and found him standing there vanished. Especially when he said, “I like your brother a lot.”

  “Me, too.” And I also like you, she couldn’t help but add silently.

  Will leaned back against the counter. “So here’s what I propose. I finished the Cobra several months ago, and I’m ready to build a new car. I’m getting a Maserati kit, and I’d like Jeremy to help me with it, if that’s okay with you.”

  Her mouth dropped open before she could stop it. “You mean a Birdcage Maserati? The one he’s been dying for?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “But you said they don’t make kits like that.”

  He shrugged. “I found someone who can pull it all together for me.”

  He made it sound so easy, but she knew it couldn’t be. “That must cost a fortune. I can’t let you spend that kind of money on my brother.”

  “I don’t waste my money,” he told her, “but I do like knowing I have it to spend on things that are important to me. The fact that this kit car is important to Jeremy, too, makes it worth even more. I wanted to talk to you about it before I mentioned it to him, though.”

  Harper kne
w how thrilled Jeremy was with this new friendship. Will was his first real male friend, not someone Harper had brought home. They didn’t just talk about cars, but sometimes veered off into other guy things, like sports and action movies. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard her brother invoke Will’s name over the last few days.

  “Look, that’s very nice of you, but—” She put her mug down, stepped back, and forced herself to forget that she was talking to a powerful billionaire who was so sexy he made her knees weak. She needed to be totally honest right now. “My brother really likes you. And when you get tired of him, he’s going to be hurt.”

  Will’s expression was unreadable as he repeated, “When I get tired of him?”

  “Talking to him on Skype. Buying a car to work on together. That’s the kind of thing a father does. Or a brother. But you’re neither of those things. And I know there must be a thousand other important things that you could be doing instead of hanging out with him. So since I don’t understand your intentions, how can I not worry that he’ll end up hurt?”

  Will set down the tiger mug and held her gaze. “First of all, when Jeremy wrote to me, his enthusiasm came through loud and clear on the page. His attitude is refreshing and like I said, I like him.” He moved in on her, one step, then two. “So where Jeremy is concerned, I don’t have any intentions except to build a car I believe he’d enjoy helping me with.” One more step, and he had her backed up against the breakfast bar.

  “But with you?” He gently cupped her jaw, stroking it with his thumb, which left a trail of sparks in its wake. “I have a hell of a lot of intentions for you, Harper. So many you wouldn’t believe it. So many I’ve been going crazy giving you that time you said you needed after our first date.”

  Her heart stuttered and stopped, then beat as wildly as it had speeding along in his car with the top down. As crazily as it had the moment she’d grabbed his shirt and dragged his mouth down to hers.

  “I intend to touch you.” He slid his hand lower to bracket her throat loosely, his fingers a light caress that turned her skin hot. “I intend to make you moan with pleasure.”

 

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