Bidding on the Billionaire (4 page)

Disappointment surged through him and his heart clenched. So she'd dealt with them, too, those shallow people who couldn't see beyond their own noses. A wave of anger followed on its heels. Somebody had made her believe she wasn't beautiful the way she was, and it pissed him off.

Knowing she wouldn't believe him, he set out to prove he wasn't like the other men in her life.

“We all have our secrets. I have my own, and when the time is right, I'll share them.” He had to admit the thought of telling her about Ethan made his stomach tighten. Would she judge him for the choices he'd made all those years ago? Any other time, he might have kept the secret to himself. After all, their relationship was temporary, little more than a fling. But she'd shared with him. He had to give her the same trust in return. He didn't, however, want to do it now.

Her gaze darted in his direction, but the mistrust didn't disappear from her face, and she didn't otherwise move. He was going to have to prove it to her.

Decision made, he slid his hands onto her hips and over the curve of her behind, pulling her into him. Despite her clear mistrust, she went willingly. To passersby, it would look like an embrace, like a man greeting his girlfriend, but he arched his hips, pushing his straining erection into the softness of her stomach enough that she could feel it. He needed her to know he found her beautiful, and he could think of only one way to do it, given the nature of their relationship.

Hannah gasped. His breath halted as his entire body focused on hers. He'd fantasized so many times about this moment, when he'd have her in his arms. Now he had her and he couldn't concentrate worth a damn. At least not about anything except the desperate desire to drag her back to his hotel room and sink into her velvet heat. He wanted to get to know every inch of her skin, her every reaction, and he yearned to bring her more pleasure than she'd ever had.

Managing to find his brain again, he leaned his head beside her ear. A soft, lavender scent wafted over him. He had the overwhelming desire to search out every spot she'd dabbed the luscious scent. “See what you to do me? Does this feel like a man who's disappointed by what he sees? The thought of meeting you has had me hard all day, but this particular erection is from watching you walk across the courtyard. Do you have any idea how sexy your ass swings when you walk or how phenomenal you look in those jeans?”

She drew in a shuddering breath. Her stiff posture softened, and she leaned into him. “For what it's worth, I didn't know who you were until you told me. We agreed to no names, nothing to identify each other by, remember? It's part of the rules I live by. Truth is, your money doesn't mean a whole lot to me. Money pays the bills, but it can't buy happiness. Or love.”

He had to admit she impressed him. She might have lied about certain aspects of herself, but he could understand why. He'd done the same.

“I agree. I might have been born into it, but I work hard for every penny. I earned my position. My father didn't hand it to me. In fact, he made me work harder because of it, made me prove myself to the other partners in the firm.” Unable to help himself, he raked his teeth over her earlobe, then soothed the bite with a stroke of his tongue. “Are you wet, Hannah?”

Her fingers curled around his biceps, where she held on to him. A soft shiver ran through her. “Very.”

He groaned, shoved a hand into his pocket and rearranged his erection so as not to embarrass himself, then forced himself to release her. He took her hand instead, threading his fingers through hers. It scared the hell out of him, too, how right her hand felt in his. “Let's go find that coffee. Before I drag you to a bathroom somewhere.”

As they started to walk, she looked over at him, one brow arched in challenge. “Would you?”

“Oh, I would.”

He halted and tugged on her hand, pulling her close enough to lean his mouth beside her ear again. He shouldn't, but he couldn't resist teasing her. She responded, and he loved that she did. She wasn't fake about it, either, which told him a lot about her character and filled his mind with fantasies. Getting to watch her reactions in person, rather than having to imagine them, had proven a lure too strong to deny.

“I'd turn you around and fuck you from behind. If I remember right, you like it from behind. I'd enjoy watching your face in the mirror. That's why I'm really here. Words on a screen aren't enough anymore. We have the same kink, sweetheart. I enjoy watching, too, and I'm dying to see the heat in your eyes when I slide into you. Hear you moan my name when you come and feel your pussy tighten around my cock.”

He knew he'd hit his mark when she let out a sound that was half gasp, half moan.

“I have no desire, though, for my first time with you to be fast and furious. I intend to take my time.” He nipped her earlobe, delighted in the soft shudder that went through her, then forced himself to release her. He took her hand again and resumed his trek, heading for the light on the corner. “Come on. Let's go find that coffee. I passed a Starbucks on the way from my hotel.”

She couldn't stop staring at him. Seated across the small round table in Starbucks, Hannah couldn't keep her eyes off Cade. She couldn't stop herself from soaking in every detail of his tall, broad form. She'd searched him out online, found his picture on his company's website, so she knew what to expect before coming today, but seeing him in person didn't do him justice. Cade McKenzie looked like he'd stepped off the cover of
GQ
magazine. He stood a good head above her five foot three inches. Thick, broad shoulders tapered to lean hips and powerful thighs that even the perfect fit of his tailored slacks couldn't hide.

He kept his black hair short, the bristles of his bangs dabbed with a bit of gel to make them stand up. His eyes were a beautiful shade of deep green, like the moss so rampant around these parts. They seemed to catch her every move, something working in the depths that told her Cade didn't miss a thing. Coffee cups in hand, they'd sat in silence for several minutes. People occupied every table in the café around them, with five or six people waiting in the various lines inside. So far, since he'd told her he wanted her, neither had said anything. They'd walked in aching silence.

She looked down at her cup and sipped at her coffee. “Your silence is making me crazy. Tell me what you're thinking.”

Cade sat back in his seat, coffee cup cradled in his large hands. “Am I what you expected?”

She lifted her gaze, surprised by the question. It screamed of insecurities. With looks like his, she wouldn't have thought he had any.

She had to be honest, though, especially if she expected the same in return. Besides, she owed it to him. “No. You don't look anything like I imagined you would and much better than the picture on your company's website. You're a walking contradiction. Your Gchat username and your views on spanking had me picturing some hot bad boy in leather, who rode a cycle and would try to convince me to be his next submissive.”

He grinned at this, revealing straight, blinding white teeth. “I'm not a dom, but I do ride. Just not all the time. When I'm working, it's not practical or professional. I save my Harley for the weekends.”

She bit her lower lip. He really did have a Harley. A man on a motorcycle was sexy. The thought of Mr. GQ over there on one? Damn.

She sipped her coffee, the liquid sweet and rich, warming her already-heated belly. “When I looked you up and discovered you were a rich corporate lawyer, I expected buttoned up and stuffy, full suit, and yet I see you have a tattoo.”

She nodded at his left arm, resting on the table. What looked to be the tail end of either a snake or black dragon coiled up his forearm, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his white shirt. Tattoos on a man were sexy. His contradicted the tame image that had formed in her mind when she'd done her research on him.

He arched a brow. “Is that a deal breaker?”

He'd tossed her question back at her. The hidden insecurity here as well filled her with more questions.
“We all have our secrets.”
He'd told her that earlier. She was dying to ask, but he'd also told her he'd share when he was ready, and she had to respect that. She understood too well the need to be sure you could really trust someone before you spilled all your secrets.

She sat up straight and held his gaze. “No. If you can handle mine, I can handle yours.”

He chuckled, a low sexy rumble that made her stomach do somersaults, and heat filled his eyes, mixing with a pleased sort of amusement.

“Can you now?” He leaned forward, reached across the table, and held out his hand, palm up.

She hesitated, afraid to touch him again. The way he affected her, especially in person, was disconcerting. Here, too, though, the pull of him was irresistible, and she set her hand in his.

He studied her face as he encased her hand in his much larger palm. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, setting fire to her skin. “Actually, your scar caught my attention. I wondered about your reaction.”

Disappointment surged through her. She stiffened and snatched her hand back, curling it around her cup. Here it came. The point where he made his excuse. “What about it?”

Cade frowned, irritation crossing his features, and he reached across the table, taking her hand back.

“You're beautiful, Hannah. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. If you want the truth, I was sitting here looking at you. Up until now, I've only had my imagination to go by. It's kind of nice to be able to see you.” His expression softened. “No, I wondered how you got the scars. Something like that had to be painful. You weren't attacked, were you?”

The painful memories rose faster than she could stop them. She'd sat in that car for hours, trapped in the twisted metal, watching her parents die. She'd heard her father's last breath. He'd spent hours breathing only periodically. Taking a breath, then not breathing for what often had felt like eternity, only to draw another one. He'd had a gurgle, too, and his voice had taken on a breathy wheeze as he told her he loved her for the last time. Her mother hadn't moved or spoken at all. She'd later been told her mother had died on impact.

Hannah shook her head. “I don't want to talk about it.”

The intensity of his gaze as he studied her again made her hands shake, but just as suddenly, he rose from his seat and came around to her side of the table. He held his hand out. “Walk with me?”

The quiet sincerity in his gaze had her hand slipping into his. He wasn't at all what she'd expected him to be. He might have more money than she'd ever see and he might very well belong on the cover of
GQ
magazine, but he had his own insecurities. It humbled her and calmed the nervous skip of her pulse.

She rose from her chair, picked up her coffee cup, and nodded. They left the small café, stopping on the corner to wait for the light. She darted a glance at him. “Where are we going?”

He shrugged halfheartedly and darted a sidelong glance at her. “Nowhere in particular. There are too many ears at the café. If this is going to happen, we need to be comfortable with each other. Maybe if we spend some time together, we'll both relax a little.”

“You're not. Comfortable, I mean.”

The light changed, the green “walk” sign blinking from across the street, and Cade stepped out into the crosswalk, pulling her along with him. “Neither are you with me. You know an awful lot about me, and I don't even know your last name. Trust goes both ways, sweetheart.”

He had a point. A big one.

“Not true. I've confessed quite a lot to you over the last six months. You know I'm not fond of spanking, but the thought of fucking you in public turns me on. You also know I'm a nerd. I like to read. I don't usually volunteer that stuff, because I'm a private kind of girl.” As they stepped up onto the curb again and traffic resumed behind them, Hannah followed until they were out of the way of the street corner and once more back where they'd begun. She halted at the edge of the grass, forcing him to stop along with her. “Miller.”

He turned to face her, brow arched, but remained silent. Hannah drew a breath.

“My full name is Hannah Renee Miller. I own a bookstore downtown here. A couple blocks over. We sell new and used books, but my specialty is finding the rare ones. I read that erotic book because people kept coming in and asking for it. I decided to find out what all the hubbub was about.”

She looked down at the grass. An exposed feeling crept over her. She needed to bare a wound, for the sake of being honest with him, and it never came easy.

“The scars are from a car accident. My parents died a little after my fourteenth birthday. We were hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a school play I was in. My mother died on impact. I listened to my father stop breathing. Then spent three hours alone with them until another car finally passed and stopped. I spent a week in the hospital. With no immediate family, they put me into the foster care system.”

Sadness filled his eyes and his fingers tightened around hers. “I'm sorry about your parents. That must have been very painful.”

“Thank you.”

He flashed a lopsided grin. “Was that so hard?”

She blew out a defeated breath but couldn't resist a grin.

“Yes.” Her smile fell. “I don't talk about it much, because it's still painful. I grew up taking care of myself. You and I come from different worlds. It honestly makes me nervous, because I can't see what someone like you would want in someone like me. I lied about my looks because I didn't want to know if my scars would bother you. Take a look at any magazine and you'll discover what most men consider attractive. I told you. I'm not any of that.”

Now she'd done it. He'd run for sure now.