The Billionaire's Bride Read online

“Sounds like a full day.”

  He consulted his watch and then rubbed his chin, as if considering. “Better pack an overnight bag.”

  “An overnight bag?” Marnie asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

  “It’s already almost ten o’clock. By the time we get around—I’m assuming you’ll need to shower?”

  “God, yes!”

  “Well, half the day will be gone before we get on the road and then there’s travel time. It’s a couple hours, give or take, to El Rosario and then another hour or so in to Catavina, assuming we make no other stops.” He shrugged innocently. “It just makes sense to be prepared.”

  Her tone was still doubtful when she said, “So, you’re not hoping to have your way with me on the lumpy mattress in some hotel room?”

  Innocence was gone in a flash, the smile on his handsome face replaced by one so bold and lethal that it caused her breath to hitch and her heart to quake. Lord, would she ever get used to the way one smoldering look from him could yank the proverbial rug out from beneath her feet?

  “Of course, that’s what I’m hoping, Marnie. God help me, but I want you.”

  Their gazes locked across the small kitchen and even with a dishtowel still clutched in one hand, he looked dangerous and, for some reason, angry.

  “Well…well…” she stammered, but could think of nothing to say in reply to so blunt a statement. Marnie was a firm believer in speaking her mind, but it had gone alarmingly blank.

  “I’m just giving you fair warning. I know where you stand on the subject of our sleeping together. I’m just making sure you know where I stand. I want you,” he said again. “I didn’t plan to feel this way. In fact, I’m not sure I like feeling this way. But there it is—a reality that can’t be ignored.”

  “We hardly know one another,” she whispered. The reminder was as much for her own benefit as it was for his, she realized, when she felt that tempting tug of attraction begin to pull at her once again.

  He acknowledged her point with a curt nod of his head.

  “I plan to change that. Starting today. So, what do you say? Are you still up for that road trip?”

  She hesitated a moment, mulling over J.T.’s words.

  I want you.

  The bald statement hardly came as a surprise given what had already transpired between them. And he’d said as much before, but that was in the heat of passion, not while they were companionably conversing over the breakfast table. Oddly, this setting gave his words more impact, more urgency, even a greater sense of intimacy.

  “If I say yes, it doesn’t mean yes to everything,” she stressed.

  “So noted.”

  They passed the time spent driving to El Rosario in surprisingly easy conversation. J.T. wasn’t sure what had possessed him to offer to get better acquainted, but he made good on it. What he told Marnie might not have been the whole, unvarnished truth, but it was far more than the sterile tidbits contained in his official biography.

  “My sister, Anne, is a photographer. She lives just outside San Francisco, not far from me as a matter of fact. She had her first gallery show back in December,” he said, “It went really well.”

  “You live in California?”

  “Yes.” And then he held his breath after adding, “Near Silicon Valley.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  J.T. braced himself for the revelation, but he needn’t have bothered. Marnie’s response was not what he expected. It wasn’t even in the ballpark.

  “That’s her work on the walls in your living room in La Playa de la Pisada, isn’t it?”

  “Anne’s, yes.” And he relaxed enough to smile. “She’s good, huh?”

  “Very. And I have to admit, I’m relieved to discover the photographer is your sister.”

  “Why?”

  “I figured whoever had taken those pictures, especially the one of you gazing down a mountainside while standing on some ski slope, knew you well. She captured you at such an unguarded moment. I assumed it was a lover,” Marnie admitted.

  He flicked a surprised look her way and watched her face heat to crimson. Had she been jealous? And, if so, why did that make him feel so ridiculously pleased?

  “Are the two of you close?” she asked hastily.

  “Yes. My folks adopted Anne when she was still in diapers. I didn’t like her much when she first arrived,” he admitted with a rueful chuckle. “Didn’t really care for the idea of sharing my parents’ attention, I guess. But I was eight and she was two—small for her age and so serious all of the time. It didn’t take long before I’d tumbled under her spell same as my folks. Then, even when I was complaining that she was getting into my stuff, I kind of got a kick out of being her big brother.”

  Marnie grinned, letting her own childhood memories come. They played through her mind like the reel of a Disney movie. Time had smoothed out the rougher edges—squabbles with Mason and her mother and the usual teenage angst and pimple crises—until only happy images remained. She was lucky, she thought. Not many people had that. But it appeared J.T. had. It appeared he enjoyed a strong bond with his sister even now that they had gone their separate ways in life. Marnie liked that about him, since she and her brother had that kind of relationship.

  “I’m close with my brother,” she said. “He’s older than me as well—five years. And we fought plenty as kids. But I know I can count on him. If I called him right now and told him I needed him, he’d catch the next plane out, no questions asked.”

  “Anne, too,” J.T. said thoughtfully.

  “What about your folks? Are they in California?” she asked.

  “Yes. They retired a few years back and moved not far from Anne and me. They’re eager for grandbabies, but Anne’s not married yet.” He chuckled softly. “They keep trying to set her up with their neighbors’ sons.”

  “What about you? Do they try to set you up?”

  “Nah. They’ve given up on me,” he said with a laugh.

  Of course, J.T. knew that wasn’t true. Just a month earlier, his mother had called to tell him about a nice young woman who worked in the office of the podiatrist she saw.

  “I’ve got her number,” his mother had told him. But J.T. had refused to take it.

  Blind dates had rarely proved to be anything but disappointing in his experience, and that had been long before he’d been christened the World’s Sexiest CEO by Faces magazine or joined the exclusive ranks of billionaires.

  “So, did you grow up in California?” Marnie asked.

  “Nope. Iowa.”

  She stared at him, mouth dropping open for a moment before she sputtered, “You’re a former farm boy?”

  “Des Moines,” he clarified. “There are more than cornfields in the state, you know.”

  “What made you move to California?”

  “College. I got a scholarship to UCLA.”

  “Hmm. Let me guess.” She reached across the Jeep’s console to give his bicep a friendly squeeze. “Football scholarship?”

  “Actually, academic.”

  “Really?”

  She must have realized that her one-word response could be taken as an insult, because she amended it nicely with, “I-I’m just surprised since you look like you would have played football. I mean you’re what, six-two?”

  “Six-three.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He watched her swallow.

  “And you’re…muscular.”

  “Thank you.”

  It might have been a trick of the light, but he thought she was blushing again.

  “Were you on the team in high school?”

  He nearly laughed out loud and might have if such a reaction wouldn’t have required an explanation. High school was still a not-so-pleasant memory for him. His interest in and knowledge of computers and operating systems made him a force to be reckoned with now, but back then such pursuits had been a liability when it came to social acceptance. Add to that the fact that he’d passed the six-foot mark at fourteen, but w
ithout adding much heft to his build, and he’d been a walking definition of the word geek. No matter how much he’d eaten, he hadn’t gained an ounce—not until just after college when the pounds finally started to stick to his frame. Now he was thankful for his fast metabolism, which allowed him to overindulge on occasion without spending more time with the personal trainer in his home gym. Back then, of course, he had cursed it.

  “I wasn’t much into sports as a kid.”

  “What were you into?”

  “Computers.”

  “A computer nerd? You?” Marnie laughed outright. “That’s hard for me to picture.”

  “True nonetheless, I’m afraid.”

  “Why computers?” she asked, sounding truly intrigued.

  He shrugged. Why breathe? might be as good a question. He’d been hooked after the first time he’d sat down in front of a keyboard in a computer programming class as a teenager. He’d idolized Steve Jobs—co-founder of the Apple Computer Corporation—the way most kids idolized basketball players or Hollywood action heroes. And he’d wanted to be just like Jobs—a multimillionaire before he hit thirty. He’d gotten his wish as the chief architect of some of the most efficient and innovative software on the market.

  “They’ve always fascinated me. All that power and potential just keystrokes away.”

  “I find technology alternately baffling and terrifying,” she admitted on a sigh.

  “Have you ever thought about taking a class? Once you understand the basics, it’s not so intimidating.”

  “Oh, I’ve taken a class—just last winter as a matter of fact. The public school system offered a community education course. I understand the basics and I’ve even used what I learned to help keep track of inventory and expenses at the tavern. But beyond the basics, it’s all Greek to me.”

  She squinted sideways at him. “If you tell me you speak that language, I’ll have to hurt you.”

  “Not yet. But getting back to computers, they’re worth the hassle of figuring out how to use them, especially if you’re serious about this business idea you mentioned.”

  Her face lit up then. Determination, ambition. J.T. had seen both emotions enough times to recognize them. And yet he’d never thought of them as sexy until just now.

  “Oh, I’m serious. I’ve already made some notes about the kind of website I’d like to have designed. I figure my bottom line will rely heavily on Internet traffic, since more and more people do their shopping on-line these days.”

  “Smart thinking,” he said.

  “Well, technology has changed the way people do business.”

  He nodded in agreement. “It’s changed our lifestyles, too. Telecommuting, instant messaging, on-line banking. Rather than consulting a map we click on MapQuest.”

  “Men, maybe. Women still have no problem asking for directions.”

  He rolled his eyes and continued. “My point is that advanced technology has made our lives more convenient and our time easier to manage.”

  “Yes, where would we be without our Palm Pilots, cell phones and the capability to illegally download the latest movies and music?” she asked drolly.

  But he wasn’t deterred. “Admit it. Just like the invention of the telephone and the airplane, computers have made the planet a smaller place. People on opposite ends of the Earth can converse through e-mail. Computers and the Internet help keep people connected. They help make the differences that divide us that much more inconsequential when compared to what we have in common.”

  “But some people would say computers have separated us, too. Instead of going out to socialize, we sit alone in our homes and have conversations with people we may never meet in person. People who can lie and say they are wealthy or important or attractive or single when in fact they might be none of those things.”

  “Virtual reality,” he murmured. “Who’s to say what’s real anyway?”

  “I value truth,” Marnie replied and he inwardly winced. “And reality is not whatever someone deems it to be for convenience’s sake. People can’t change who they are.”

  “No, but they can pretend for a little while. Is there harm in that?”

  “Sometimes, yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Read a newspaper. What about stalkers and other assorted perverts who prey on teenage girls pretending to be something they aren’t?”

  “Touché.” And he decided to let that line of thinking go, realizing he only had been looking for a way to rationalize withholding the truth from her.

  But he couldn’t let the topic drop before adding, “I still say computers are among the greatest inventions of the twentieth century. Consider what the world would be like today without the Internet or software that is cost-effective and efficient to use.”

  Such passion, Marnie thought, as she listened to him expound on the subject for the next several minutes. And despite the fact that she didn’t know a gigabyte from a go-cart it was clear that he did.

  They were nearly to El Rosario when she said, “If the bounty hunter thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career as a computer programmer or something.”

  His gaze cut her way and he opened his mouth to say something, but then he only smiled.

  J.T. wanted to confide in Marnie about his identity and put to rest the specter of him being a bounty hunter, fascinating and flattering as he found that fabrication to be. What white-collared desk jockey, after all, would mind being mistaken for the rough-and-tumble sort who chased down outlaws and hunted wanted men for a living? Titles like president, CEO or chief software architect paled in comparison, especially when paychecks were left out of the equation.

  The words were there on the tip of his tongue, but then he thought about the sugar daddy comment she’d made earlier. The old adage “once burned, twice shy” proved too true. He couldn’t make himself tell her.

  Perhaps he was being selfish and unfair, but he needed to know exactly where he stood with Marnie as J.T. the man before he introduced the subject of his bank account. Who knew where this was leading anyway? Yes, he wanted her, but their relationship might never move beyond a mere holiday flirtation or fling. And so he decided to keep mum for now, on that subject at least.

  “What about you? What were you like in high school?” His gaze drifted over her figure. “I’m guessing you were a cheerleader.”

  “Guilty.”

  “And homecoming queen.”

  “Guilty as well. I was also voted nicest smile,” she said with a dazzling grin. Then she sobered. “But, really, I wasn’t a complete vacuum. I was no member of Mensa, but I did graduate with honors. What about you?”

  He’d been valedictorian and voted most likely to succeed. And he knew he had, just as he knew that his success had come at a steep personal price. And so he steered the conversation to what he considered a safer subject.

  “I did participate in the debate team my senior year.”

  He waited for more laughter or good-natured ribbing. Instead she said quietly, “Did your school have a chess club by any chance?”

  “Yep. You’re looking at the captain of the state championship team three years running.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned.

  “What?” He started to pull the Jeep to the side of the road. She looked so pale suddenly. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Please, keep driving. I just…it must have been something I ate. It’s passing, really.”

  But it wasn’t passing. Marnie felt her already compromised footing begin to slip further where J.T. was concerned. It’s not fair, she thought. She hadn’t seen this complication coming at all. But there was no denying it. J.T. Lundy was the whole package: Smart, sexy, funny, drop-dead gorgeous.

  And dangerous.

  Not just because of what he did for a living, although that was bad enough, but because of what he was already doing to her heart.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY spent the majority of the day just outside Catavina, hiking over the rocky ter
rain and taking in the scenery. The area was beautiful in a stark way that reminded Marnie somewhat of Michigan’s rugged, glacier-hewn Upper Peninsula. Sparse and untamed, both places enjoyed an understated beauty. Unlike the U.P., though, cacti grew here and mountains rose up high in the distance, far greater than the Porcupines, providing a majestic backdrop.

  She used up the film on one disposable camera and fished a second one from the small backpack that doubled as a purse. This one was a Gucci knockoff that she’d picked up on a weekend trip to Chicago with Hal right after they were married. Those were happy times, she mused, running her fingers over the bag’s supple brown leather.

  Her gaze drifted to J.T., who stood beside her. He was waiting as patiently as a hired guide, squinting into the sun as a lazy smile lifted the corners of his mouth—a mouth that had kissed her breathless mere minutes earlier.

  And Marnie knew—these were good times, too.

  J.T. turned then and she smiled at him.

  “Let me take your picture in front of those rocks, with that big cactus just behind you.”

  He seemed to hesitate a moment, but finally he moved to where she’d pointed. And then with the click of a button on a six-dollar disposable camera, she had immortalized him on film. Photograph or no photograph, she knew little about this man would escape her memory. More than his powerful build and chiseled features had left an impression on her. His intelligence and self-deprecating sense of humor, which she still found surprising, had as well. A lot was brewing beneath that seemingly placid surface of his. It made her want to dive right in, even as it also made her eager to keep her distance emotionally.

  Why was it that this man could bring out such contradictory emotions in her?

  “Want to take a break?” he asked.

  “Yes…no!”

  His brows tugged together. “Well, which is it? Are you tired or not?”

  “Oh, from hiking.”

  And she wanted to slap herself for saying that aloud and making herself sound like such an idiot.

  “What else would we take a break from?”

  “Hiking, obviously,” Marnie said airily and settled herself on a large rock.

  They had hiked a ways off the beaten path, but J.T. had come prepared with bottled water and some peanuts, almonds, sunflower seeds and raisins that he had the audacity to call trail mix.