The Billionaire of Bluebonnet

THE BILLIONAIRE OF BLUEBONNET

Titles by Jessica Clare

 

The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting

The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male

 

eSpecial

The Billionaire of Bluebonnet

THE BILLIONAIRE OF BLUEBONNET

A Contemporary Romance Novella

Jessica Clare

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2012 by Jessica Clare.

Excerpt from
The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male
copyright © 2012 by Jessica Clare.

Cover design by Lesley Worrell.

Cover photo by iStockphoto / Thinkstock.

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PUBLISHING HISTORY

Heat eSpecial edition / September 2012

 

Heat eSpecial ISBN: 978-1-101-61103-6

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

The Billionaire of Bluebonnet

Special Excerpt:
The Care and Feeding of An Alpha Male

When Travis Jesson's ninety-eight-year-old grandmother died, he was in Europe brokering a deal. He sent flowers to the funeral since he couldn't be there and ignored the pangs of loss caused by her passing. She was an old woman who had lived a full life. It was to be expected.

What hadn't been expected was the e-mail he received from his grandmother's solicitors when he returned to Houston a few weeks later. He almost missed it between meeting invites and contract negotiations. He glanced at the e-mail on his BlackBerry during a board meeting, and it froze him in place while in the middle of watching a very important PowerPoint presentation given by a senior vice president.

It seemed that Grandma Pearl Jesson had left her old Victorian house to him—and her pet, Gregory. The will stated that he had loved going to her home when he was a boy, and she wanted him to have someplace to retreat to when his life got too hectic. It also stated that Gregory would keep him company because she knew he was lonely.

And for some reason, that made him pause.

Travis hadn't seen his grandmother in more than two years. Though Bluebonnet was only an hour or so outside of Houston, he hadn't been able to get away from the office to take a few days off and visit. There was always another deal coming in, or another board meeting to be handled, or an investor to visit in London. There was no such thing as “vacation time” to a CEO, especially not one in his thirties.

And yet . . . Travis thought of his grandmother's warm smile. Drinking a glass of lemonade on her porch as a boy while she'd stroked his hair and comforted him when his parents had left him there for the summer. He'd loved that old house—the clutter in the attic, the rooms that seemed full of odd and wonderful discoveries. The backyard full of massive pecan trees. He'd loved visiting there as a child.

He just hadn't had time as an adult.

Gregory would keep him company because she knew he was lonely.

She wanted him to have her pet dog? He wasn't lonely. He was driven. Ambitious. There would be time for a relationship when he decided to take some time off from work—but that wasn't anytime soon.

Travis had his assistant, Amy, shoot off a quick e-mail to the solicitors, asking them to send all information to her so she could make arrangements to have the house disposed of, and to call the nearest pet adoption agency and send Gregory there. He didn't have time for a dog. Not with his travel schedule.

His assistant unhappily delivered the bad news to him: Not only could the solicitors not release the keys to the house, because his grandmother's live-in companion was still in the process of moving out, but also the local shelter refused to accept Gregory. The solicitors suggested that if he could please come and take care of the situation as quickly as possible, it would be ideal.

As Amy relayed this news with a wince, Travis glared at his BlackBerry. He glared again when his Friday afternoon meeting had a cancellation. He had no excuse, it seemed. His grandmother had been buried in Bluebonnet and he needed to visit and pay his respects anyhow. Might as well kill three birds with one stone. “Tell my driver to pull the car up front.”

“Right away, Mr. Jesson,” Amy said, retreating out the door.

After visiting the graveyard, Travis decided to go the house. He'd had Amy call the solicitors' office to let them know he was on his way, and they'd quickly explained that the keys to the place were with his grandmother's live-in companion. Travis vaguely remembered hiring the woman a few years ago to help out his grandmother. He paid her salary, but when he tried to put a face to the position, he blanked out. Had it been that long? He didn't remember the last time he'd visited Grandma Pearl. Two years ago at Christmas? With Caroline at his side? That hadn't ended well, and his bitter relationship with Caroline had soured him on others for quite some time. He hadn't dated anyone since.

The car pulled in front of the house and his driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “Should I park, Mr. Jesson?”

“I don't anticipate staying long,” Travis said curtly, pocketing his cell phone and opening his car door. He stepped out of the car and shut the door, then paused in the gravel driveway.

Travis regarded at the old house. The trees in the front yard were thicker with greenery than he remembered, but other than that, it was like stepping back in time. A porch swing hung to the right side of the front door, and the large columns supporting the front balcony seemed as white and curving as ever. Potted plants hung above the railing, and the door had a white wreath on the front with a black ribbon across the door. Upstairs, he could see lacy curtains fluttering in the open windows of the second floor. Under the carport there was a small blue hatchback—not his grandmother's. She didn't own a car, if he remembered correctly. It must belong to her live-in companion.

Well, this wouldn't take long, then. He strode to the house and up the white wooden steps of the porch, noticing that his grandmother's favorite rag doormat still lay in front of the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, and then frowned when he realized the door was locked.

Grandma Pearl had never locked the door in all the years that he'd known her. And the damn house was his now. He had to wait to be asked in? Irritated, he shoved a finger at the doorbell. It chimed. No response. Now annoyed, he held his finger down on the button, imagining the constant, grating chime inside.

Footsteps raced down the hall. “I'm coming!”

A moment later, the door opened. A tall woman stood there in a bikini, a towel wrapped around her waist.

Travis forgot everything he'd thought about this not taking long. The woman opening the door was gorgeous. Was this Grandma Pearl's companion? He didn't remember her. He'd have remembered if she'd had such a curvy, delicious creature assisting her. The woman standing before him was stunning—full breasts heaved and glistened with trickles of water, and the belly above the towel was soft and slightly rounded. Her dark hair was pulled up into a thick bun atop her head, wild tendrils escaping and framing a lightly freckled face. Bright blue eyes stared back at him with surprise.

Her mouth fell into a lush
O
of surprise. “Mr. Jesson! Please come in.” Her cheeks were bright red, and he didn't know if it was due to his presence or the fact that he'd just gotten her out of the pool. “I'm so sorry I didn't hear the door. I was in the backyard giving Gregory a bath. He likes to swim.”

Travis didn't really give a shit about the dog. He was far more interested in her, and vaguely disappointed when she hiked the towel up over her breasts, hiding them from sight. He studied her for a moment, then put his hand out. “Travis. You must be . . .”

“I know you,” she said breathlessly, and then her face blushed brighter. “I mean, you've been here before.”

“I don't remember you,” he said bluntly.

“Oh, of course not.” She seemed embarrassed. “I always try to stay out of the way when family visits. I'm Risa. Risa Moore. You hired me to be your grandmother's assistant a few years ago. You were there when she interviewed me, remember?”

He stared at her blankly.

“The schoolteacher?” She prompted, then pulled her hair out of the bun and shoved it in front of her face, then made circles with her fingers and held them up to her eyes. “With the glasses?”

A glimmer of a memory hit him. He did remember helping his grandmother hire an assistant. But he thought she'd been middle-aged and sour. This creature . . . wasn't. She was warm and laughing and he wanted to tug that towel off of her and get another look at her lush body in that black bikini. But all he said was, “Miss Moore. I remember.”

“Of course you do,” she said softly and smiled at him. “I got LASIK a year ago. No one remembers me without the glasses. I'm getting used to it, though.”

It was incredible to think he'd forgotten her. Ridiculous. “I'm Travis.”

“I know,” she said, that soft smile remaining on her lips, though her sparkle seemed to dim a little. Her lower lip wobbled a little. “You're here to pick up the keys and Gregory.”

Ah, hell. Was she sad about the damn dog or losing her home? Or both? “I'm not here to kick you out,” he began.

She waved a hand in the air. “It's time for me to move on anyhow. Your grandmother had been pushing me for the last year to go and get another teaching job, but I didn't want to leave her side. She was a wonderful lady.”

“She was a great lady,” he said in a husky voice, his gaze staying on Risa as she moved across the room. Her hips swayed under the towel, her movements incredibly feminine.

She moved to the foyer table, picked a pair of keys out of the bowl, and handed them over to him. “I'm almost done packing. I should be able to be out of here in the morning.”

“There's really no hurry,” he found himself saying, wishing she would smile. He wanted to see what she looked like when she gave him something other than the polite smile. What she'd look like if her eyes lit up with pleasure. “Stay as long as you like.”

Her expression grew wry. “I'm afraid I'd just be in your way. The lawyer told me you were only coming by to get the keys and Gregory, so I won't be a bother.”

Travis mentally cursed. She seemed determined to get out of there as soon as possible. For some reason, that bothered him. It was more than the feeling that he was kicking her out of her home—and he was—it was that there was something soft and vulnerable underneath her friendly, polite smile. Like she was going through the motions and hiding how she really felt.

And for some reason, he understood that all too well.

So he found himself saying, “I'm staying overnight, actually. Thought I'd go through Grandmother Pearl's things and see if there is anything I want.”

“That's wonderful. It'll give you time to acquaint yourself with Gregory, too,” she pointed out.

Like he gave a shit about a dog. But she seemed excited about it, so he added, “That, too.”

Now, he just had to tell his driver that he wasn't driving back to Houston tonight.

“You'll love Gregory,” she said softly. “He's so affectionate and smart. I think you'll be impressed. He's impossible not to love.”

Ah, hell. For the first time, her bright blue eyes softened with enthusiasm and her face lit up. She adored the damn dog.

And she still thought he was going to adopt it. “About that . . .” he began.

“Your grandmother wanted you to have him when she passed,” Risa blurted out, her look becoming worried again. “She said she trusted you to look after him.”

“You should take him.”

She shook her head sadly. “I can't. I wish I could, but I don't have any place to keep him. I'm staying with a friend in Dallas until I find work.”

“Look, Risa.” He scrubbed a hand along his jaw, wondering why it was so damn hard to disappoint the woman. “I travel a lot. Internationally. I'm afraid there's just no room in my life for a dog.”

She stared at him as if his words didn't register. Then, ever so slightly, her head tilted a little.

“It's not that I don't like dogs,” he said, giving her his most winning smile. “It's that I'm constantly at work or traveling. He'd be lonely stuck at home by himself all the time. It's not fair to him.”

Her lips twitched. Like she thought he was . . . funny?

For some reason, that made Travis bristle. “Is there a problem with what I'm saying?”

She didn't back down from his cold tone. Those blue eyes sparkled again, and she gestured to the back door. “I think you should meet Gregory.”

“I don't want the dog, Risa,” he began, but fell silent when she took his hand in hers and began to drag him across the living room to the French doors at the far end of the room. That small, warm contact of her hand touching his seemed incredibly intimate and casual.

How long had it been since someone had held his hand?

She opened the door with her other hand and stepped onto the back porch of the house, then whistled. “Gregory! Gregory Peccary!”

There was a loud, sharp squeal, and he heard the sound of hooves clicking across the boards of the back porch. To his shock, a pig came darting around the side of the house, racing toward her.

A fucking pink and black pig.

She dropped to her knees and held her arms out for the pig, and it dove into her embrace, snuffling and rubbing against her. And her brilliant smile was back, wide and reaching her eyes. She looked up at him, laughter in her face.

“Gregory's not a dog. He's a micro pig.” Her lips twitched again. “And he's yours.”

Travis stared down at the squirming pig in her arms. It was the size of a small dog. Bulldog, even. That was where the resemblance ended, though. This thing had hooves and a snout. The pig's little tail wagged at a rapid pace, and he grunted as he burrowed in Risa's arms. She scratched his back, rubbing him.

Travis just stared. This was why the local shelter wouldn't take the damn thing.

Well, goddamn. What the hell was a CEO supposed to do with a pig?

To say that Travis Jesson wasn't pleased would have been an understatement. Risa knew the moment he laid eyes on the pig that he'd never known that his grandmother's beloved pet was porcine rather than canine. But that couldn't be helped—Risa loved the pig but she couldn't keep him. And Pearl had wanted Travis to have Gregory.

“That boy works too much,” Pearl had said time and time again. “He needs something other than work to occupy him.”

Of course, Pearl always assumed that everyone would just do what she'd wanted. She probably hadn't anticipated the enormous scowl on Travis's handsome, unsmiling face.

It was a face that Risa had dreamed about ever since she'd met Pearl Jesson four years ago. Travis Jesson had interviewed her before Pearl had, and she'd been too intimidated by his brusque manner to really pay much attention to him. Pearl, however, had been one of the nicest, friendliest people she'd ever met. She needed an assistant, she'd explained, because her grandson worried about her, especially after she'd broken her hip. They'd instantly clicked over a comment about daytime television, and Risa had the job.