He had a fortune. And more. “I have a private jet.”
Her expression shifted and he couldn’t quite read her thoughts as she said, “You’re forgetting about Jeremy. I can’t just leave him like that.”
“I haven’t forgotten about him. You know I wouldn’t do that. He can stay with Mrs. Taylor and my driver can take him to school, to work, and back home again.”
“But...” She halted, and he knew her brain must be spinning as she looked at the situation from all angles, the way she always did. The way she’d always had to, ever since her parents had passed away and she’d become all Jeremy had. “I’ve never left him for that long.”
“You’ve never even gone away for the weekend?” The shake of her head marked his peripheral vision, and he felt a tightening in his gut at the confirmation that Harper had never had a life of her own. “He’ll be fine with Mrs. Taylor. He likes her.”
“I know he does, but that’s not the point.”
He knew he was moving fast, that he was pushing hard. But he wanted this—and he knew she did, too. “He’ll be fine. I promise. He can do this, Harper. It’ll make him feel like an adult.”
Jeremy was the biggest part of her life, he understood that. But Jeremy wasn’t a seven-year-old child. Yes, he had limitations, but he would be fine for two days without Harper. It would be a vacation for them both.
“Jeremy and I are a package deal.” Her voice was tight now, no longer loose, the way it had been at the motel. “You can’t have one without the other.”
“You know I want the package deal, Harper. But a little freedom won’t hurt him. And it won’t hurt you, either. You don’t always have to be your brother’s keeper. And I hope one day you know that you can always ask for help from me, too. Always.”
* * *
Harper wanted to tell Will she wasn’t Jeremy’s keeper. But before the words could make it out of her throat, she realized they would be a lie. Because she had set herself up as her brother’s keeper, and that had directed every decision she’d made since. Even her career choice had been about Jeremy. She was happy to do it, of course, happy to take care of him. But it was scary to realize that her entire world really did revolve entirely around her brother.
At least it had—until Will had blasted into their lives.
“Let me relieve some of your burdens, Harper.” His voice was gentle but firm. Confident. As always. “And let me take you to London in my private jet.” His tone changed, deepened, softened. Seduced. “I want to lay you down on the bed in my private cabin. I want to join the Mile High Club with you.”
He took all the air out of her objections with a few words and an image that carried a big punch. Of course he would have a bed in his private jet.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“It’s completely fair,” he argued. “Because we both want it equally.”
God, yes, she wanted it, just as much as he did. Wanted it so badly that just thinking of it had her control ripping into even thinner shreds than it had out on the race track, and then at the motel.
“I’ll make sure he’s fine. School, work, home. He won’t be alone. I’ve got it covered. I promise.”
There was one big difference between Will and the men she’d dated, apart from his wealth: Jeremy loved Will. And from what she could see when they were together, he cared deeply for her brother as well. That alone should have been enough for her to say yes, but they weren’t talking about one wild night together—this would be two full days and nights and an ocean away from her brother.
“Tell me what you’re really afraid of, Harper. And I’ll fix it.”
She watched the parched brown hills of summer race by, felt the rumble of a semi as they whizzed past. “I’m not afraid of anything. I just worry.”
What if someday Jeremy doesn’t need me?
The thought surprised her. Surprised her enough that she was forced to ask herself whether it would really be such a terrible thing to take a couple of days for herself. If she let her brother fly freer.
“You need to tell Mrs. Taylor that he doesn’t like the dark.”
Will’s grin was huge as her words made it clear that she would go with him, but he was smart enough not to gloat. “You can give her a list of instructions. And we’ll be home in forty-eight hours. A very hot forty-eight hours.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. Even the light touch of his mouth set her pulse on high speed. She hadn’t a single defense against him.
A normal woman would question why she needed a defense against the perfect man. After all, Will had all the answers. He’d told her all his deep, dark secrets. And it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him.
She put her hand over his on her knee and stroked his knuckles with her thumb. Then she splayed her fingers and laced them through his. He’d told her he loved her—and she wanted to love him, too, wholly and without any lingering fears. But though she now knew where he’d come from and how he’d made himself into the wonderful man he was—and even though she’d never been happier with anyone else—she still couldn’t shake her natural tendency to hold something back.
Just in case. Just for a little while longer, because everything had moved so fast between them.
From zero to a hundred in the beat of a heart.
Soon, she hoped, she’d be able to round the corner and feel sure about everything. Sure that Jeremy would be okay without her spending every waking minute watching over him. Sure that being a little wild, and unfurling her wings from time to time, wouldn’t damage the life she’d built for herself and her brother.
And sure that when Will said he loved her, he meant that he’d love her forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It was far easier to clear time on her calendar than Harper had imagined. Jeremy thought it was a major adventure to stay at Will’s for two days. He was going to watch all the Fast and Furious movies back to back, then all the Transformers. His tastes were simple. Other kids his age would have had a huge party and raided the liquor cabinet.
Just as Will had said, Jeremy would be fine. He probably wouldn’t even miss her. But she was determined not to spoil the trip by thinking about that...or by worrying that she was wrong, and that something might happen to him while she was out sowing more wild oats with Will.
“This filet mignon is delicious.” The luxurious lounge where they were served dinner aboard his private jet could pass for an elegant living room except for the seatbelts, the flotation devices, and the oxygen masks that would drop down if needed. “I should have known you’d serve gourmet meals.”
Will poured more champagne. “If I’m going to do something—” He grinned. “—I want to do it better than anyone else.”
Harper now knew that was no exaggeration. A limousine had driven them onto the airfield at San Francisco International Airport. Two flight attendants—a man and a woman, both in their mid-thirties, neatly dressed, attractive, and enough alike to be siblings—had greeted them, stowed their luggage, served cocktails, provided bowls of her favorite sweets, and disappeared. The captain, a seasoned gentleman in his fifties, had gone over the flight plan with Will, then returned to the cockpit.
Throughout, Will was polite and full of thanks, not only with the captain, but also with the flight attendants. With his driver. With a waiter. With everyone. He thanked big, tipped big, and showed respect.
“How is porcelain unique?” She went back to the conversation they’d been having. Tomorrow afternoon they were going to tour a porcelain factory he was interested in.
“Actually, I’m not sure right now how I’ll make it unique. That’s the purpose of the trip. To figure it out.”
“But why?” She hadn’t imagined Will would find china plates the slightest bit interesting.
“The truth?” He gave her a grin that was halfway between cheeky and embarrassed. “I was on Facebook and some guy had posted photos of his new set of French china. People went nuts over that post. And you’d be surprised how many comments were from interested guys, not just women.” His smile still made her heart race every single time. “So I’m looking into it.”
“You think there could be a lot of money there?”
“I see potential. You can show some people a five-hundred-dollar set of china and they shrug it off as merely department store. But charge them five thousand, and suddenly, they’ve got to have it.”
“For the same exact thing?”
“With a tweak—something to make it unique.” He nodded. “It’s about perceived value, not actual cost.”
It was a totally different way of thinking. She’d never bought the “most expensive.” Although sometimes she had to agree that you got what you paid for when the thrifty alternative fell apart after two uses. So okay, sometimes expensive had its advantages.
She waved a hand over the crystal, china, and silver. Everything was first class on Air Franconi. “Speaking of all this fine china—”