Reining in the Billionaire Read online

  “Say you’ll use it to record that sexy voice for me and the world to listen to.”

  She must not have heard him right. “What?” she gasped.

  “I built it for you, EvaMarie.”

  She could swear she’d heard him wrong, but the acoustics in here were excellent. Perfect for her business. “I lined up two new authors this week,” she said, the inane trivia the only thing her brain could cough up. Then she winced. Her “career” was probably the last thing he wanted to hear about.

  “That’s because you’re excellent at everything you put your mind to,” Mason said, surprising her.

  A deep breath helped her gather the unraveling threads of her cognitive abilities. “That’s what you said the last time I saw you. That I’m as good at secrets and lies as I am at cleaning up after the construction crew.”

  “And this is my way of saying I’m sorry.”

  She glanced around the impressive space, awed for a moment. “Pretty expensive apology.”

  “It’s worth every penny if it means you’ll at least talk to me again.”

  “Again...it seems like a lot for talking.” She just couldn’t let it go.

  “You’re gonna have to grovel, my man!”

  “Go away, Jeremy!” Mason yelled back toward the bedroom. “I don’t need an audience.”

  EvaMarie struggled not to smile. What had happened between them wasn’t funny, but her emotions were never straightforward with this man. But confusion quickly overtook all her other thoughts.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?” Mason took a step closer, which didn’t clear her thoughts at all.

  “I mean, I really don’t understand. You hate my family. You hate what I let them do to me. You think I was using you for a place to live and work.” She stepped back, struggling to breathe. “After all that, why would you do this?”

  Tears threatened to surface. What she’d wanted all along seemed right within her reach, but she couldn’t take it, because she couldn’t live with him thinking of her that way.

  “Remember, we said no other rules. Right?”

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  “Well, I was wrong. There is a third rule.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have to respect each other.”

  And just like that, her heart shattered. Mason would never respect the woman he thought she was.

  “Do you respect me, EvaMarie?”

  That was easy. She’d seen the man he’d become—a fierce opponent when fighting what he believed was wrong, utterly loyal and still as hardworking as he had been when he was young. “Of course.”

  “Even with my faults?”

  She’d had enough time to get some perspective on that. “We all make mistakes.” Hadn’t she?

  “And I more than most.” This time he moved in close, not giving her a chance to back down. “I built this room to show you that I respect and support the woman you are now.” His hands gripped her upper arms, anchoring her to the reality of what he was saying. “The woman who takes the time to read to children, who isn’t afraid of hard work or to challenge me when I’m being a total ass.”

  She tried to smother her grin, but he caught it anyway, shared it with her despite the seriousness of what he said.

  “The woman who pays attention to details, and sings to calm the horses. The woman who, even now, is struggling to teach her parents better manners while refusing to abandon them in their time of need.”

  “Jeremy told you?”

  Mason nodded. “He told me. And I’m proud of you.”

  With that, she could no longer hold back the tears.

  Ever so gently, Mason tilted her chin up so her watery gaze could meet his. “Let me be the first to say, EvaMarie, that I’m very proud of you. I know it’s not easy. You could have continued to keep the status quo, but you saw that it wasn’t the best thing for any of you, and you did something about it.”

  EvaMarie couldn’t explain how his words made her feel. It wasn’t just love. It wasn’t just about soaking in the rare bit of praise. It was her heart blossoming as she realized someone could get her for the first time—warts and all.

  “So you want to, what? Go back to how we were before?” She wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted anymore.

  He buried his hand in her hair, bringing that sculpted mouth so close to hers. “Oh, I want what we had before...but I want much, much more.”

  His kiss left her reeling, so it was hard to coordinate her feet when he pulled her back toward the door. When they reached the office, she saw a dress hanging from one of the bookshelves. “That wasn’t there before.”

  “Nope.”

  It was a vintage style with a close-fitting bodice and a full, frilly skirt. The crisp teal cotton was complemented by the lace-edged crinoline beneath the skirt. On the shelf above was a stylish hat with a matching teal ribbon woven through the brim.

  EvaMarie pressed her palm hard against her stomach to quiet the butterflies that had taken up residence there. “What’s that for?”

  “Well, I was hoping you’d still help us with our open house when we put it on.”

  Her heart sank, and it was a literal, physical feeling. She eyed the dress with longing, wishing it represented so much more than it appeared to.

  “As my fiancée.”

  Turning to look at Mason, EvaMarie found him on one knee right there in her old bedroom. His hand was lifted up to reveal a gorgeous white gold and amethyst ring with a circlet of tiny diamonds supporting it. “Mason?”

  “I don’t want there to be any more misunderstanding between us, EvaMarie. We’re both products of our upbringing, but we’re our own people too. And personally, I think you’ve turned into something incredible. Can you forgive me for letting the past get in the way of the present?”

  Heart aching, she stepped in close, pulling his head to her chest. “Only if you can help me be the person I should be.”

  Mason looked up to meet her gaze. “No, but I can help you be the person you want to be.”

  Standing, he kissed her again with a soft reverence that made her heart ache. Then he pulled her close against his body. As she looked over his shoulder, the pictures on the bookshelves became clear for the first time. Framed pictures of her and her brother. “Mason, how?”

  “Jeremy got them out of storage for me. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk about your life. All the parts of it.”

  “I promise this time I will.”

  * * *

  Mason scanned the busy rooms on each side of the hall, looking for his fiancée in the midst of the open house chaos. People stopped him frequently. He had to consciously tamp down his impatience with the interruptions. They’d staged this party to make themselves known and extend memorable hospitality.

  Mason would just enjoy it more with EvaMarie by his side.

  His hunting skills proved apt when he tracked her to the kitchen. There she was in her gorgeous dress, busily helping the caterer fill trays. He watched her for several long moments.

  She wasn’t anything like he’d expected when he’d shown up at the estate that first day. Instead, she was more.

  “Woman, what are you doing?” he finally asked.

  She glanced up, giving him a glimpse of her round blue eyes beneath the rim of her hat before dusting off her fingers. “I’m sorry, Mason. I just worry about everything getting done.”

  Secretly he was amused, but he couldn’t resist the blush staining her cheeks. He stepped closer, running his knuckles lightly down the flushed skin. “I understand. But you’re the lady of the house. And this dress is not meant for the kitchen.”

  They left the room to the chorus of giggles from the catering crew. �
��When you said you weren’t big on parties, I thought you were just saying that because of the last time you went to one,” Mason said as he led her through the people meandering between the front rooms and the hopping activities in the basement.

  “Honestly, I’ve never been big on them. Not nearly as much as my parents,” she murmured, sticking close to his side. Mason was amazed at how good that felt. “I’d much rather be upstairs with a book.”

  The turret library had been bumped to the front of the restoration checklist. They’d returned a large number of EvaMarie’s books there, along with Mason’s own smaller collection. They spent a lot of quiet evenings in that room, before Mason coaxed her down to the master suite.

  He snuggled her closer to his side, bending to her ear to say, “As much as I was looking forward to this event, I’d rather be upstairs too...for a completely different reason.”

  She gasped as he whisked her partway up the stairs. “Mason, we can’t.”

  A quick maneuver and she was in his arms as they looked out across their guests. Sunlight from the arched window opposite highlighted her cheekbones, reminding Mason of the angel he’d allowed into his life. “I’m teasing you, Evie,” he said, grinning at her knowing look.

  She knew him all too well.

  A particularly loud guffaw had Mason glancing toward the ballroom, which they could see a sliver of from their elevated position. EvaMarie’s parents held court in one corner of the room. “Your father is in his element.”

  “Amazingly.” EvaMarie shook her head. “I can’t believe they’re actually here.”

  Mason had done his best to support her as she struggled to establish her relationship with her parents on a new footing. There’d been many a time he’d wanted to step in, but he rarely had to do that. EvaMarie, perfectionist that she was, knew exactly what she wanted and stuck to her guns in order to get it.

  “You did it, love,” he said, kissing her temple. “The house is gorgeous, the party is a hit and your career is gaining momentum. I’m damn proud.”

  “Thank you.”

  The tight squeeze of her arms conveyed her heightened emotions. Mason continued to be amazed when she admitted she needed help from him. The admissions were few and far between, but each one made him feel like a superhero as he attempted to give back even a fraction of the support she granted him every day.

  “Where’s your brother?” she asked.

  Mason swept his gaze over the floor once more. “He must still be at the stables. There was a problem getting the stud settled in.”

  She nodded. “Soon the stables will be set—”

  “And we will be the newest stables to win a Kentucky Derby. Just you see.”

  Her smile gave him the biggest boost. “I’m sure I will.”

  “It’s gonna be beautiful. Just like you.”

  “No,” she said, leaning her head against his chest. “Like us together.”

  * * * * *

  If you loved this book, pick up the MILL TOWN MILLIONAIRES novels from Dani Wade

  A BRIDE’S TANGLED VOWS

  THE BLACKSTONE HEIR

  THE RENEGADE RETURNS

  EXPECTING HIS SECRET HEIR

  And don’t miss Dani’s first Harlequin Desire

  HIS BY DESIGN

  ***

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  If you like sexy and steamy stories with strong heroines and irresistible heroes, you’ll love FORGED IN DESIRE by New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson—featuring Margo Connelly and Lamar “Striker” Jennings, the reformed bad boy who’ll do anything to protect her, even if it means lowering the defenses around his own heart...

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  Forged in Desire

  by Brenda Jackson

  PROLOGUE

  “FINALLY, WE GET to go home.”

  Margo Connelly was certain the man’s words echoed the sentiment they all felt. The last thing she’d expected when reporting for jury duty was to be sequestered during the entire trial...especially with twelve strangers, more than a few of whom had taken the art of bitching to a whole new level.

  She was convinced this had been the longest, if not the most miserable, six weeks of her life, as well as a lousy way to start off the new year. They hadn’t been allowed to have any inbound or outbound calls, read the newspapers, check any emails, watch television or listen to the radio. The only good thing was, with the vote just taken, a unanimous decision had been reached and justice would be served. The federal case against Murphy Erickson would finally be over and they would be allowed to go home.

  “It’s time to let the bailiff know we’ve reached a decision,” Nancy Snyder spoke up, interrupting Margo’s thoughts. “I have a man waiting at home, who I haven’t seen in six weeks, and I can’t wait to get to him.”

  Lucky you, Margo thought, leaning back in her chair. She and Scott Dylan had split over a year ago, and the parting hadn’t been pretty.

  Fortunately, as a wedding-dress designer, she could work from anywhere and had decided to move back home to Charlottesville. She could be near her uncle Frazier, her father’s brother and the man who’d become her guardian when her parents had died in a house fire when she was ten. He was her only living relative and, although they often butted heads, she had missed him while living in New York.

  A knock on the door got everyone’s attention. The bailiff had arrived. Hopefully, in a few hours it would all be over and the judge would release them. She couldn’t wait to get back to running her business. Six weeks had been a long time away. Lucky for her she had finished her last order in time for the bride’s Christmas wedding. But she couldn’t help wondering how many new orders she might have missed while on jury duty.

  The bailiff entered and said, “The judge has called the court back in session for the reading of the verdict. We’re ready to escort you there.”

  Like everyone else in the room, Margo stood. She was ready for the verdict to be read. It was only after this that she could get her life back.

  * * *

  “FOREMAN, HAS THE jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, we have, Your Honor.”

  The courtroom was quiet as the verdict was r
ead. “We, the jury, find Murphy Erickson guilty of murder.”

  Suddenly Erickson bowled over and laughed. It made the hairs on the necks of everyone in attendance stand up. The outburst prompted the judge to hit his gavel several times. “Order in the courtroom. Counselor, quiet the defendant or he will be found in contempt of court.”

  “I don’t give a damn about any contempt,” Erickson snarled loudly. “You!” he said, pointing a finger at the judge. “Along with everyone else in this courtroom, you have just signed your own death warrant. As long as I remain locked up, someone in here will die every seventy-two hours.” His gaze didn’t miss a single individual.

  Pandemonium broke out. The judge pounded his gavel, trying to restore order. Police officers rushed forward to subdue Erickson and haul him away. But the sound of his threats echoed loudly in Margo’s ears.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LAMAR “STRIKER” JENNINGS walked into the hospital room, stopped and then frowned. “What the hell is he doing working from bed?”

  “I asked myself the same thing when I got his call for us to come here,” Striker’s friend Quasar Patterson said, sitting lazily in a chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

  “And you might as well take a seat like he told us to do,” another friend, Stonewall Courson, suggested, while pointing to an empty chair. “Evidently it will take more than a bullet to slow down Roland.”

  Roland Summers, CEO of Summers Security Firm, lay in the hospital bed, staring at them. Had it been just last week that the man had been fighting for his life after foiling an attempted carjacking?

  “You still look like shit, Roland. Shouldn’t you be trying to get some rest instead of calling a meeting?” Striker asked, sliding his tall frame into the chair. He didn’t like seeing Roland this way. They’d been friends a long time, and he couldn’t ever recall the man being sick. Not even with a cold. Well, at least he was alive. That damn bullet could have taken him out and Striker didn’t want to think about that.

  “You guys have been keeping up with the news?” Roland asked in a strained voice, interrupting Striker’s thoughts.