The Billionaire’s Secret Son: Preston Brothers Book Two Page 8

  “I can’t do that.” She said it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I have connections back east that I can leverage to find work, and—”

  “I wasn’t quite finished,” Charlie cut in, a light coming back into his eyes. “There’s another offer on the table.”

  “What offer?”

  “The argument we had last night…” His jaw worked, and for the first time Charlie looked down at the floor. “I don’t want that to be how we leave things. In fact, I think we should just leave. Together.”

  It sounded so absurd that she laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “I promised you a vacation. I’m not going back on my word.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slim envelope. “Here’s what I have planned.”

  She took the envelope and opened it to discover a dream come true.

  A European vacation. They’d travel on the Prestons’ private jet. They’d stay at gorgeous, historic hotels. It would start in Italy and last three weeks. Charlie had put together a custom pamphlet listing all the possibilities.

  “This is too much,” she whispered.

  “No, it’s hardly enough,” he countered. “You missed your vacation to be here, and if anyone on the planet deserves this trip, it’s you. And I deserve it, too.”

  She looked back up at him. “You?”

  “Maybe I don’t deserve it,” he said with a smile that sparked something deep and sexy at her core. “But I want it. The only catch with this vacation is that it’s for all three of us. You, me, and Jasper. It’ll give you a break before you move on to…whatever your next move is, and it’ll give me a little more time with my son.”

  She closed the envelope and held it in front of her. “You’d give me this, even after we fought?”

  “I want you to have it more than anything,” he said simply. “I’m sorry the acquisition didn’t work out, but this isn’t an apology gift. This is what I promised you, no more and no less.”

  It went against every instinct, after all that had happened between them—the attempts at co-parenting. The fact that he didn’t try to find her for six years. How bitter she’d felt about the lost time together. Do it yourself, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She’d been so upset about the acquisition, and that kind of anger had always served as a sign that it was time to move on—time to take matters back into her own hands. But here was Charlie, standing in front of her, keeping his word in spite of the fact that they’d called it quits.

  Or had they? It had been so clear in the moment that they were breaking up, though they hadn’t been dating. It was such a high-school feeling, that sweet, horrible tension when everything was still up in the air.

  This didn’t have to be up in the air. Stephanie could see in Charlie’s eyes that he meant every word he said.

  She ignored the instinct to cross her arms over her chest and shield herself from another blow. Instead, she opened her hands and reached for him.

  Charlie was there in a second, folding her into his strong arms. Her throat ached, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. “I—”

  “Shh,” he said, and then he kissed her.

  It was the sweetest kiss she had ever tasted, full of all the things Stephanie had missed all these years. It had hurt so much to be rejected by Charlie’s family when she was pregnant with Jasper. She hadn’t wanted to open herself up to that kind of pain again. But maybe it was worth the risk this time.

  The kiss deepened, turning possessive and raw, and she felt herself sink below the surface of it into a kind of wild pleasure. Each of her nerves came alive underneath Charlie’s touch—the press of his thumbs against the line of her jaw, the pads of his fingers stroking down her sides—and when she resurfaced from the heat of the kiss she found herself with her arms thrown around his neck, pulling him in close, and her hips rocking against his.

  He shifted her backward, and she felt the thud-click of the office door closing. Charlie pressed her back against it, the cool a shivery shock through the fabric of her dress, and then his hands were exploring under her hem as he kissed the tender flesh of her neck. A trail of goose bumps rose on her shoulders and ran down to her wrists.

  He’d done away with her panties, leaving her for a heart-wrenching moment to guide one foot out. Charlie’s eyes burned into hers.

  “This is risky,” she panted. “We’re in the office…”

  “I love it,” he growled. “I love knowing that anyone could walk in at any moment and see us like this…”

  It was so dirty, so filthy. Stephanie gasped at the thought while more slickness gathered between her legs. “So unprofessional,” she choked out.

  He gave her a wicked grin. “Yes. So very unprofessional…” And then he bent his head and took her mouth again. His hand demanded entrance between her thighs, and she spread them for him so he could stroke the hot center of her, the pad of his thumb finding her clit and teasing a moan from her lips. Stephanie arched against the door, bucking into him.

  “That sound,” Charlie said, low into her ear. “I love that sound. Make that sound again.”

  “Make…me…”

  He did. Once, twice, then three times, and Stephanie thought she might die from how much she wanted him inside her.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed, and she realized her moans had gotten too loud for an illicit encounter in the office. Someone might hear. Someone might see….

  She pounced on him, throwing herself forward, and Charlie caught her and pressed back. Her body sang at the push and pull, at the hard wood of the office door behind her and the hard flesh of the man in front of her. His belt buckle clinked, followed by the snick of his zipper, and then he lifted her in his arms and filled her with one stroke.

  He was so hard, so ready, that she felt herself make space for him. It sent a surge of pleasure up through her spine, and she squeezed her eyes shut and fell headfirst into how wonderfully naughty it was to do this in his office.

  Her pleasure crested with every stroke, the waves growing higher and higher until finally they reached a peak. Stephanie dug her fingertips into Charlie’s back and bit her lip to keep from crying out, and then she exploded onto him, reveling in the risk and the reward, all wrapped up into one screaming orgasm that she forced herself to swallow.

  Stephanie opened her eyes and there he was, watching her. The heat of being watched like that—like he wanted to devour her, like he would devour her—made her come all over again. And then it was Charlie’s turn.

  She could feel how hard he came, and even in the drunk haze of her own orgasm she wondered how he could do it—how he could stay on his feet, how he could hold her up. His muscles bunched and tensed, and his hips drove into her. He was strong. He was stronger than she had ever realized, ever imagined.

  When it was over he set her back on her feet and came full circle, right back to that first sweet kiss. Charlie followed it with one that was equally sweet, equally soft, his lips lingering on hers for a long delicious moment until he pulled away.

  He pulled her in close as her breath settled back into a normal rhythm.

  “So,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. “What do you think? Will you and Jasper come to Italy with me? Italy and France and—”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we’ll be there.”

  “Good,” answered Charlie. “That’s very, very good.”

  12

  The sound of his apartment door slamming shut caught Charlie’s attention from where he stood in the kitchen, boiling a pot of spaghetti. Cooking usually wasn’t his thing, but now that Stephanie and Jasper were coming to Italy with him, everything seemed possible. Everything including spaghetti.

  “Are you back?” he called.

  Stephanie breezed into the kitchen, tossing three bags onto the island counter with a plasticky thump. “I think I’ve got everything. Where’s Jasper?”

  “In his room, writing in his notebook. Sarah’s in there with him, doing the bed linens.” He stirred the
pot and looked at her over his shoulder. Stephanie looked slightly windblown, her cheeks pink. “You know, you can send out for anything you need. You don’t have to keep making trips.”

  “I do, though.” She swiped her hair away from her face. “I didn’t expect this business trip to turn into international travel. A long-haul flight is a different animal.”

  “It’ll be on a private jet.” Charlie turned down the boiling water and put his arms around Stephanie. She relaxed in his embrace. “He’ll have space. The three of us will all be very comfortable.”

  Stephanie laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being whisked away on a private jet. How does anybody plan for that? I only know how to plan for the very last row of a commercial flight.”

  “Now you’ll have a chance to learn,” Charlie said. He could picture her on a crowded plane, alone with Jasper, facing head on any problems that cropped up. But he didn’t want her to think of this trip as a problem to tackle. “I think you’ll find it easier than you’re imagining.”

  “I don’t know what I’m imagining.” Stephanie stepped out of his arms and went to check on the spaghetti. “Want me to start the sauce?”

  “Sure.” He leaned back against the counter and watched Stephanie take the different ingredients out from one of her bags. He’d planned to keep the spaghetti simple—noodles and sauce from a gourmet grocery store around the corner—but Stephanie had a different recipe. Jasper likes it this way, she’d told him, an indulgent smile on her face. He had filed the fact away in his mind for the future. Even now, it felt like a warm glow, knowing these things about the two of them. Stephanie tipped some oil and a pound of ground beef into a frying pan and turned up the heat. “You know, you don’t have to worry about the trip. I’ve got it all under control.”

  He couldn’t see her face, but he could see the way she tilted her head slightly to the side. “Do you?”

  “I’ve made some plans. Want to hear them?”

  “I do.” Stephanie turned over the meat with a spatula, then prepped the other ingredients. Italian tomato sauce. A measuring cup with water. A chopped clove of garlic.

  Charlie pulled out his phone. “The first day, we don’t have much of anything scheduled. Just checking in, getting settled, avoiding jet lag. On the second day…” He was off and running. The prospect of the trip—and the fact that Stephanie was really coming—had been so exciting that he’d stayed up all night planning the itinerary. Sightseeing around Europe’s most famous cities and hidden treasures. A hot air balloon ride. A vineyard tour. A day at Disneyland Paris. Schools. Every day had a different central feature, something he was quite proud of. The list took several minutes to work through. By the time he was finished, Stephanie had combined the rest of the ingredients in the sauce and left it to simmer. She’d also, he noticed now, poured and drained the spaghetti noodles. They rested in the colander. “So? What do you think?”

  Stephanie faced him, wearing an expression that made his heart hitch in his chest. “That’s a long list.” She blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. “And it sounds wonderful…for superhumans.” She laughed, a low chuckle that held notes of exasperation. “You’re going to have to scale it back, Charlie. It’ll be too much for Jasper. That itinerary has us going nonstop for almost a month.”

  “Better to over-plan and cut back.” He crossed the kitchen and slipped an arm around her waist. “Can you blame me for my enthusiasm? It’s mostly about you, because you…” He breathed her in. “You’re really something else.”

  She put a hand on his chest, color coming to her cheeks. Charlie dipped his head to the side of her neck, brushing his lips up to meet her jaw. She put a little pressure on his chest, and he gave up a few inches.

  “Can’t get too hot and heavy when there’s spaghetti waiting,” she breathed. Stephanie shook her head. “Wait. I had a question about something else in your itinerary.”

  He took a step back and a deep breath to clear his head. “Ask away.”

  “What’s with the schools?” She arched an eyebrow. “Are we going to get a crash course in the history of boarding schools?”

  Charlie laughed. “No. Well, maybe, depending on the tours. We’ll be seeing the five best. Or three best, given that we need a bit less scheduling.”

  “Okay, but…” Stephanie wrinkled her nose, and Charlie resisted the desperate urge to run a fingertip along those wrinkles to make her laugh. “Why are we touring boarding schools at all?”

  “For Jasper. He’ll be ready in no time, and since we’re already going to be there—”

  As he spoke, the smile dropped off Stephanie’s face and the light disappeared from her eyes. Charlie felt a chill on the back of his neck.

  “No. We’re not touring boarding schools.” She turned back to the stove and picked up the spatula, poking it into the simmering sauce. “You can take all of those off. That should free up some time.”

  “Steph.” Charlie felt the sharp buzz in the air. “These schools are pipelines to the best colleges in the world. They’re the place to make business connections that last a lifetime.”

  “Jasper doesn’t need business connections.” She turned off the the stove with a sharp snap. “He’s five years old.”

  “Some of the people I went to boarding school with are still—”

  “You’re not getting it, are you?” Stephanie spun around, dark brown eyes blazing. The color struck him as beautiful and deadly all at once. “You’re still trying to control everything. Making plans for my son without talking to me.”

  “That’s not what it is,” insisted Charlie. “I’m only trying to show you the opportunities Jasper will have, now that we’re—”

  “Now that we’re what? Going on vacation together? That doesn’t mean anything for the rest of his life. I know that, and you know that. A European vacation isn’t a wedding ring, and even if it were, that’s no guarantee that—”

  “Stop it!”

  The shout came from behind his back, and Charlie’s stomach twisted and dropped.

  “You can’t talk to each other like that.” Jasper stood on the other side of the kitchen island, one hand clenched into a fist and one gripping his notebook so tight the paper had crumpled. “It’s—it’s not kind.” His voice rose back to a shout on the word kind, and then he turned and ran, crying for Sarah.

  Stephanie was a flash of movement at his side, going past at top speed. Charlie stood frozen in the kitchen for a long heartbeat, then two, and then he went after her.

  She ran ahead of him down the hall into the guest bedroom, where Jasper had thrown himself into Sarah’s arms.

  “It’s all right,” the older woman murmured. “Take a deep breath. Your mom’s right here.”

  The embarrassment that tore through Charlie seared him to the core. Stephanie whispered softly to Jasper. It took him a long time to let go of Sarah’s pant leg, but finally he did. Stephanie whispered into his ear and rubbed his back.

  Charlie could hardly breathe. He shouldn’t walk away—he knew that down to his bones. But what was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say?

  He cleared his throat. “Jasper, I’m sorry, buddy.”

  Jasper lifted his face from Stephanie’s shoulder. “It’s not kind to fight with each other.”

  “I know that. Sometimes people have disagreements…” He ran a hand though his hair, hating this feeling of being adrift on an open sea. “I’m sorry.” He said this to both of them, hoping it came across that way, knowing that it might not. Sarah met his eyes across the room.

  “I’m going to step out,” his housekeeper said quietly. On her way past she took Charlie by the arm and tugged him out into the hallway. “Give them a minute.”

  His throat ached. “I want to be…” He wanted to be in it with Stephanie and Jasper, but it was impossible. They just weren’t there yet. And there was no rushing through it, as much as he wanted to. “I want to do the right thing.”

  Sarah considered this. “What happe
ned?”

  “We…had a disagreement. Over the plans for the trip.” He could hear Jasper’s muffled voice, small and strained. “Jasper walked in on us.”

  She nodded slowly. “That happens with every couple, at some time or another.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m—” Dread washed over him, sickening and strong. “We’re not exactly a couple.”

  Sarah’s eyes sparkled with skepticism. “Seems like it to me. But what do I know?” She reached out and patted his shoulder. “Need anything else for the day? If you don’t, I’ll head home to the family.”

  “No,” he said. “We’ll see you in the morning, and then you can enjoy your vacation too.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Sarah said. “You’ll see.”

  For the moment, it was so not right that Charlie didn’t know what to do with himself. He lingered in the hallway for as long as he dared, and then he went to plate up the spaghetti. The three of them ate in relative silence, Stephanie asking Jasper about his day with Sarah, and Charlie’s anxiety ebbed and swelled until after Jasper’s bedtime.

  He sat on the sofa in the living room, ready to crawl out of his skin, his heart thudding and his mouth dry. Stephanie’s footsteps were soft on the carpet. She sat down in a chair across from him. It was like he’d run a race—a thousand races. The dreadful anticipation threatened to explode his veins.

  “I think,” Stephanie began, and those two words stamped out the spark of his hope. “That today was proof that we shouldn’t be together.”

  “Why?” The word was like gravel in his mouth.

  “Because I’m not sure you’ll ever learn that you can’t plan out every aspect of Jasper’s life. Of anyone’s life, really, but especially not Jasper’s. I can’t…” She looked away, her mouth tightening and chin quivering. It took several beats for her to look back. “I can’t accept support from you if it comes with strings attached. Boarding school…” She made a small noise in the back of her throat. “No.”