Tempted by the Billionaire(16)
“A surprise,” he said with a wink. “You’ll like it.”
“I know I will.” She dropped her hand, but instantly wished she hadn’t. Her fingertips tingled from the contact. Her whole body ached for him. Willow was in trouble, and she’d never felt better.
* * *
“Are you actually saying you just bought a car?” She asked, eyeing off the black Dodge.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. “I wanted to take you out on a date. I couldn’t do that with you driving.”
She arched a brow, but slid into the seat. “That’s sort of chauvinistic.”
He laughed, and came to sit beside her. “I was going for romance.”
“In this day and age, there’s a fine line between romance and chauvinism.”
“Oh!” He clutched at his chest, pretending to be wounded. “The cynicism. You surprise me, Willow.”
She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t understand why you’d buy a car in Haymarket Bay?” But beneath the veil of cynicism and criticism was unadulterated pleasure and hope. Did it mean he planned to stay? And for how long? Surely he wouldn’t buy a car if he was going to leave again anytime soon.
He instantly understood, and that spider web of guilt seemed to thicken across his senses. “I can always sell it. Give it to Ike.” He looked at her as he turned the key and revved the powerful engine. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Right. The hope was weighed down like a stone in water. It didn’t mean anything.
“Mattias…” She toyed with the hem of dress. “I don’t mean to sound intrusive, but cars are kind of expensive to just buy and then give away.”
He nodded, shooting her a droll look as he expertly navigated the beast of a thing towards the beach. He turned left onto the esplanade, and picked a route that would take them along the coastline. “Is this going to turn into a lecture about silver spoons and a sense of entitlement?”
She frowned. “Depends. Are you saying you were born with a silver spoon?”
“I’ve certainly read that in the papers,” he laughed. “I guess a billion dollar trust fund amounts to that.”
Willow spun her head to face his so fast she thought she’d got whiplash. “A billion dollar trust fund?” She demanded, her body flashing hot and cold. “Are you kidding me?”
He shot her another look of confusion. “Willow… Is it possible you don’t know who I am?” He pondered, more amused than surprised.
“Who you are?” She shook her head slowly. He was the man she was falling in love with. The man who had brought her all kinds of pleasure and delight in her bed. The man she was fast become totally hooked on. “Who are you?”
“You mean you really don’t know?” He laughed then, a rich sound that filled the luxury interior with warmth. “This is absolutely fantastic,” he said, putting a hand on her thigh and squeezing the slender muscle.
“Matt, who are you?”
He sobered, and focussed all his attention back on the seaside road. To their right, a sharp cliff dropped towards the ocean. To their left, tiny little beach shacks dotted the grassy land. “Have you heard of McCain Industries?”
“Of course. The airline.” She rolled her eyes. “Who hasn’t?”
“Heard of Mattias McCain?”
She angled her whole body to look at him. “You’re… You’re Mattias McCain.” She nodded, though, because it made sense. He carried himself with the confidence and authority of one who had been groomed to believe in their power. Someone who, from birth, had been given the best opportunities in life. She had never really thought him to be ordinary. But she hadn’t expected him to be a closet billionaire, either.
“Yeah.” He laughed again. “I will say this: it’s nice to know my wealth has nothing to do with what you see in me.”
Willow laughed now, her eyes crinkling at the corners. His heart turned over. Her laugh was incredibly beautiful. Possibly the nicest sound he’d ever heard. “As if anyone would fall for you because of money. You know, Matt, you don’t need to pretend modesty.”
The compliment, dressed up as an accusation, was music to his ears. “Not so much pretended modesty as the voice of experience.”
Willow frowned. “I don’t believe it. You mean your marriage?”
“Yeah. Turns out, amongst her other faults, Meghan was a big old gold-digger.”
“But… you’re gorgeous!” She said with complete disbelief.
Happiness, an actual force, burst through him. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I don’t think so. I know so. I don’t mean it in a subjective way. I mean, you’re seriously hot. I doubt anyone could disagree.”
His smiled at her then looked back towards the road.
“No, seriously Matt. And you’re incredible in bed. Like, mind-blowingly, insanely incredible.”
He pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine. When he turned his head towards her, his eyes burned with intensity. “Willow, we’re going to have a problem if you keep going like this.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I’m going to find it hard to resist making love to you right here and now.”
Her cheeks flushed pink.
“Especially if you blush like that,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “It’s just that I find it hard to believe anyone married to you would only want you for the money.”
His fingers gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. “There was prestige too. Invitations to the best events in Manhattan. I think Meghan liked being Mrs Mattias McCain.”
“And yet she left you…” Willow probed gently, putting a hand out and wrapping her fingers over his.
He nodded, but when he looked at her, his expression was nonplussed. “She’s getting a good settlement. A great settlement, actually,” he corrected, thinking of their Manhattan penthouse apartment and the trust fund he’d set up for her. “She’ll still have the prestige of having been my first wife.” He shrugged. “And I was a pain in the neck to be married to, so she’s free of that.”
Something rolled inside Willow’s stomach; as though the car, still stationary, had crested over a hill. “Were you?” She said quietly, and jealousy flushed her system. “Why?”
He was silent for a long time, and then he grinned. “I’m not going to tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“In case I scare you off.” He laced his fingers through hers, and lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. He kissed her gently, reverently, and then placed her hand back on her lap. He restarted the engine and pulled the car out into traffic effortlessly.
As he drove them south, along the coast, he wondered what the hell he was doing. He considered himself a free agent, but did he really want to jump into another serious relationship so soon after the demise of his marriage? Was he crazy to even be thinking about a real future with Willow?
He frowned. It might have been crazy, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The thought of returning to his life in New York and leaving her here filled him with a drowning sense of panic.
“Why’d you move to Haymarket Bay?” He prompted, a few miles down the road, in which neither had spoken.
Willow looked out of the windscreen, admiring the motley boats bobbing on the horizon. “It’s about as far removed from Chicago as you can get,” she pointed out truthfully. “And when Ashton and I broke up, I wanted to get away.”
“But so far away?”
She nodded. “It’s hard to explain. I didn’t just want to leave Chicago. I wanted to get out of my head. Away from who I was. I hated myself.” She took in a deep breath for courage. “His wife confronted me. I didn’t get to find out the truth and fade away. I saw her hurt. I saw the way she hated me. I saw her heartbreak. And, God, Matt. I hated myself.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he retorted immediately, feeling both defensive and angry. “He put you in that position.”
She wiped at her eyes, where tears were threatening to fall. “I know. He was a selfish bastard. But, at the time, that didn’t make me feel any less guilty. So I travelled to a place with sunshine and fishing boats, and just about the friendliest people I’ve ever met.” She looked at him, examining his rugged profile until her heart clenched. “I spent the first few months just sitting in the sunshine, in a semi-catatonic state. I guess I was healing, because eventually, I woke up, and didn’t think about Ashton. And didn’t see his poor wife’s face when I closed my eyes.”
“He had no business putting you through that.”
“No.” She nodded jerkily. “But people like Ashton will do whatever suits them, irrespective of who gets hurt.”
“I will never hurt you,” he promised, his voice gravelly, his eyes, when he briefly looked at her, rich with feeling. But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. How could he avoid hurting her? His stay in the Bay was temporary. He had a whole new life to move onto. But he would do anything to spare her pain. Anything except walk away from their relationship before he absolutely had to.