The Billionaire's Longshot: Betting on You Series: Book Three (17 page)

Damn it.
It was like a punch in the gut.
Not fair.
When she answered the door her hair was twisted and pulled tight on her head, revealing a delicious-looking neck, begging to be nibbled. Her pale pink dress hugged every curve of her delectable body. Jill was so hot and sexy she could make a man forget everything. She didn’t seem to realize it either.
Was that the allure?

She looked at him with her sultry brown eyes and asked, “Hungry?”

So fucking hungry I want to rip that dress off you right now.
Bedding her now would be another mistake.
But a pleasant one.
“We have reservations shortly, so why don’t we head out.”
Doing the right thing sucks.

Jill grabbed her purse and followed him to the waiting car. Thankfully it was a short drive as the ride was unusually quiet. Jill’s normally upbeat self was lacking its usual luster. She had a smile on her beautiful face, yet it didn’t appear genuine. Who could blame her? Had he given her a reason to be happy with him? Not really. In fact, it was the total opposite. He wasn’t sure why she agreed to go out to dinner with him. Not that he was complaining. Ross wanted to see her, wanted her to say yes, and accept his offer, but that didn’t mean he understood it.
Damn complex creatures.

The hostess seated them at a table apart from the others at his request. He was hoping to have a sweet conversation that would make others blush. At the moment they didn’t require such privacy, but he wasn’t about to throw in the towel just yet.

The waiter came and took their drink orders, ran off a list of the evening’s specials, and left them in silence.

Though he was anxious to break the silence, he waited until the waiter returned and took their orders. He didn’t want to deal with constant interruptions if he could help it. It was difficult watching her across the table. He missed her.
So close, but yet so far. I should have opted for pulling that dress off her.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ah, she speaks.
He was tempted to tell her exactly what was going through his mind, however he anticipated that could cause her to clam up once again.
Play it right.
“How lovely you look tonight. That color brings out your eyes.”

He got the reaction he hoped for. Her eyes softened a bit, and he could see her shoulders relax some. Maybe now they could enjoy dinner.

“My eyes are just plain brown, nothing fancy.”

He reached across the table, took her hand in his, and said, “Jill Aragao, there is not one plain part about you, especially not your eyes.” Placing a soft kiss on her fingers he continued, “Did you know your eyes change color with your mood? Right now they are a light, soft brown, and when you are angry, they turn so dark, you could make a weaker man run. And then, when you are in my arms, they change yet again, almost to an entirely different color, one I’ve never seen before.”
And that is the color I want to see most. Is it too early to leave?

Jill sat quietly as he stroked her fingers. Her expression was not one he could read.

Meeting her gaze he added, “But one I hope to see again.”

He could almost see her pulse beating in her throat. Yes, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. No matter how she tried to deny it, her body betrayed her. Jill took her hand from his and reached for the glass of iced water, drinking its contents.
Oh yes, I’ll see that color again soon.

The waiter brought them their meals.
Just when the conversation was getting good.
Jill apparently meant for them to eat quietly. That was probably good because if he told her what he was really thinking, she probably would have choked on her salad. By the lack of interest she was showing in her food, there was a chance she also could have said, “Let’s get out of here,” and taken him up on his offer.
Probably not, but a man can dream.

When they were just about done eating, Jill took a deep breath. “Ross you . . . um . . . you said you wanted to talk. What about?” she stammered.

Ross didn’t want to change the subject. He enjoyed where it was heading. But he knew they needed to talk. No time like the present.

“Us.”

Her eyes widened. “What about . . . us?”

“It was apparent the other night at Jon and Lizette’s that you may have forgiven me for my actions on the boat, but you haven’t forgotten them.”

“I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, Ross. I hadn’t realized how much it still hurt until we were all there together, laughing and joking, just like we did in Napa Valley.”

“There is no going back. I can’t undo what has been done.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, it wasn’t that. It was the fact there was . . . nothing. No emotion. No anger, no joy. It was like we were just both there, but not really there. Do you know what I mean?”

Not one foggy clue what the hell you’re talking about.
“Sort of. Why don’t you explain?”
Maybe then I’ll catch on.

“It felt more like we were watching a television show, watching, not participating.”

Nope, still don’t get it.
He was considered an intelligent man, so why couldn’t he figure out one woman? Was there a method to the riddles? Was it purposely to drive him crazy? No wonder he screwed things up. If he couldn’t understand the rulebook, how was he expected to play the game? “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping that would cover whatever she had been trying to tell him.

“Me too,” she said sincerely.

Wow, it worked.
Problem was he had no idea what he just apologized for, but it really didn’t matter, did it?
No.
He really didn’t feel the need to understand as long as she felt better about it.

“Was there more you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

There was much more, but they were having a lovely dinner right now. If he brought up the subject it would be like pouring iced water on the night.
Pour now or later?
The end result would be the same. Might as put all cards on the table.

“Yes, there is.” He paused as the waiter cleared their plates and offered desserts. “Just coffee, please.” Ross turned back to Jill and started slowly. “There is something about you I like very much.”

She blushed and said, “I like you too, Ross.”

Keep on track.
“But I’m not everything you think I am.”

Puzzled she asked, “How do you know what I think you are?”

Touché.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me what you think I am?” He knew he was going to regret asking, but somehow his ego wanted to hear her say some wonderful things. He would set her straight afterward.

Crossing her hands in front of her she said, “I know you are smart.” He nodded. “Successful.” He nodded again. “Thick-headed, egoistical, stubborn, unable to commit—”

He raised a hand. “Okay, okay. Please don’t hold back,” he teased lightly. “I would love to tell you I am only a few of those things, but I would be lying. I am those and so many more, as I have proven over the last month.”

“True.”

“Not going to cut me any slack are you?” he asked, arching a brow.

Met by a sweet smile she asked, “Are you becoming sensitive? I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings now.”

And why was I worried telling her the truth would upset her?
“That would require me to have them, Jill. And if you haven’t noticed, I don’t have feelings.”

She stopped smiling as though she knew he wasn’t joking.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to be with you, but first you need to understand the type of person I am. I won’t have you being delusional about living happily ever after. I’m not capable of being that person.”

Jill was searching his face for answers. He had long ago learned how to hide them. “What are you saying?”

“I want us to be lovers. Enjoy each other. Travel, see things, do things, but only as lovers. Can you do that, Jill?” he asked in a way nothing could be misunderstood. It had sounded cheap and cold, but clear. If she wanted to be with him, it was going to be on his terms because it was all he could offer her.

“A relationship without feelings?”

It wasn’t truly a choice, but it was all he could offer. Opening up feelings, giving her the power as his father had done with his mother, he couldn’t risk it.
Wouldn’t
risk it. It stripped a man, giving all the power to the woman. Never would he let that happen to him. He had even seen it in his friends last night. They were worried what their women were going through and how it was going to affect them. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. And if Jill wanted to be with him, she was going to have to understand that right up front. “Not without feelings. I care about you and believe you care about me. But that is the extent of it.” He sat back in his chair and looked at her closely. “Are you able to live with that, Jill? Be in my bed as my lover only?”

She looked off in the distance for a moment, then looked around the restaurant as though searching for an answer.

“You don’t have to answer now. Think about it. I only wanted to make sure you understood what I was offering.”

“Thank you. You have made yourself very clear. I don’t know if I should feel honored to have been asked to be your lover or not. If there was any question before if you had feelings for me or not, you have clarified that.” She got up from the table and said, “If you don’t mind, I have developed a headache and wish to go home.”

Is that a no?
She didn’t throw her water in his face, didn’t yell, but didn’t say yes either. For now he wouldn’t push it.
Let her think about it.
He would take her home, kiss her senseless, and let nature take its course.

‡

L
over?
He had
some nerve. She couldn’t believe he asked. It took everything in her not to pour that iced water over his head right then, but she wasn’t going to make a spectacle of herself. No, she had other plans for him. He wanted a lover, so he was going to get one.
On her terms.

Like Lizette said, they were a work in progress. Maybe it was time for her to start working. She heard every stupid word out of his mouth at dinner. Jill had two choices: believe it and accept it, or prove him wrong.

Ross was trying to control what was between them. He couldn’t do that any more than she could.

Oh, this man is infuriating
. If he thought he could manipulate her into having his cake and eating it too, he had another think coming. She was up for the challenge. He wanted to play this game, then he was in for the shock of his life.
Let’s see what you’re really made of, Mr. Ross Whitman.

The ride back to her apartment was quiet. Not a word spoken. She didn’t make any eye contact. When they arrived, the driver opened her door, and she got out and headed for her front door, leaving Ross behind.

Before she entered the building she turned and said over her shoulder. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. Would you like to come up for . . . dessert?”

Ross hesitated for a moment, watching her. He looked as though he was going to decline her offer, which was shocking. It was, after all, what he had said he wanted. Jill didn’t wait for his answer and entered the building without him.
Go figure.
Maybe she wasn’t able to play this game. Why had she even tried?

Once inside her apartment she slammed the door behind her. She was angry. Why was this still unclear? Jill should’ve been happy he didn’t take up her offer of
dessert.
Sex without love.
What was I thinking?
That his words had no backing? That Ross would want her so damn much he would do anything to have her, including admit to being more than lovers?

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was exactly as he said he was, incapable of any real emotion. It would be understandable after growing up with a mother like his, but something deep within Jill said it wasn’t true. He probably had more emotion than all of them together, but held it under tight wraps. Why? It wasn’t going to be easy, but she was going to figure it out. One way or another, Ross was going to face his emotions.
I just hope they are what I expect them to be.

She went into her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and slipped on an extra-large T-shirt.
Looks like it will be me, a movie, and ice cream tonight.
Pulling out a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, she grabbed a spoon and headed for the couch.
Ugh, what a complete jerk. Why do I let him get to me like this?
The answer was simple, because she cared; the resolution was what was still a mystery. Before she could sit there was a knock on the door.

She almost opened the door, but remembered to check the peephole first. It was Ross. Had he been sitting in the car all that time, contemplating her offer? That thought brought a smile to her lips.
He’s not so confident after all.

Opening the door, she stood there not letting him pass. “Did you change your mind?” Taking a spoonful of ice cream, she brought it to her lips and sucked if off the spoon. Her tongue licked any trace from the edge of her lips.

Ross’s reaction was instant. He grabbed her into his arms and kicked the door shut behind him. His mouth hungrily covered hers with such need she forgot why she had invited him up. He thrust his tongue between her lips, and she eagerly welcomed him. She wanted him, needed him, as much as he needed her. Her body quivered as his hand captured her breast through the thin T-shirt; her nipples begged for his touch.