An Heir For The Billionaire

Except the way he looked at her... She shivered. There was a lot more than friendship in his dark, enigmatic gaze. Tonight was a chance to finally see what it was like to be with Reid and not think of him as “just” a friend. The real question was whether she’d act on the undercurrents or chicken out. Nora hadn’t had sex in over two years. What if she’d forgotten how?

“Reid is not some mysterious guy with a shady reputation,” Nora insisted, but it was mostly to convince herself.

He was different. She’d definitely noticed that earlier today. Darker, more layered. But she’d gotten the distinct impression he needed to connect with someone—her. Perhaps for the same reason she’d agreed to the date in the first place. They had a history. Being in his presence today had brought back some good memories. No reason that couldn’t continue.

“Nora, honey, you’ve been away from Chicago for a long time.” Eve wrangled the same lock of hair until she got it the way she wanted it. “Trust me, I’ve crossed paths with him a few times now that I’m taking a more active role in the inner workings of Elite. He was short with me, all business. He’s like that with everyone. Except you, I guess.”

“He runs a billion-dollar company,” Nora said faintly. “You of all people should know that means you can’t be Mr. Pushover, especially not in meetings.”

Gracie shook her head and added, “Just be careful. The girl who does my nails is convinced he pays off the women he dates. Word is that he’s got some very unusual...tastes. Things he prefers in the bedroom. Things that are not fit to be discussed among polite company. That’s why they never talk about it. They’re well paid to keep quiet and probably don’t want anyone to know they participated.”

“That’s just speculation,” Nora scoffed as her pulse jumped.

What kind of things? Unfortunately, she had a good enough imagination and some of what she envisioned couldn’t be unseen. It was a delicious panorama of poses, featuring Reid Chamberlain in splendorous, naked glory. Not that she’d ever seen him without clothes, but Reid was devastating and gorgeous in a suit. It wasn’t a stretch to assume he’d look good out of one, too. Throw in this new dark and mysterious side? It only added to his appeal. And heightened her nerves.

“Besides, it’s dinner between old friends,” Nora continued, her voice growing stronger as her resolve solidified. Whatever his predilections were in the bedroom, she’d probably never find out. “That’s all. I’m a mom. We don’t incite men’s fantasies.”

And she had to keep Declan forefront in her thoughts. There were no grown-up sleepovers in her future, not when she had a two-year-old who still woke up calling for mama in the middle of the night. This was a thank-you dinner, nothing more. An escape from her father’s scary health problems and the scandal of the inheritance drama.

Eve’s brows quirked as she spun Nora to face the mirror. “Honey, that body is every inch a man’s fantasy, and by the way, you’re a strong, entertaining woman. A man can and will be as attracted to what’s up here—” she tapped Nora’s temple “—as by what’s down here.”

All three Winchester sisters followed Eve’s gesture as she indicated Nora’s torso. Even Nora couldn’t argue that the dress did highlight her curves. Nor could she argue that any man who was worth her time would be attracted to her brain.

“Regardless, I’ll be home by ten,” Nora promised. “Ten thirty at the latest.”

She kissed Declan and left him in Gracie’s capable hands. They settled in to watch cartoons, waving to Nora as she left, nervous as ever.

On the way over to the Metropol, Nora sat ramrod straight in her seat, too edgy to relax. The driver didn’t try to talk to her, which was a blessing.

Her imagination went into overdrive again. If Reid did have unusual tastes...did that automatically mean she’d say no? The thought of being a bit more adventurous than normal with someone she trusted got her a little hot and bothered. Because of course Reid was still Reid. There was nothing anyone could say to convince her that he’d turned into a monster who incited women into submitting to his twisted sexual practices.

Besides, her heart belonged to Sean. Anything that took place with Reid could be left behind once she went home to Colorado. It was freeing to not have the slightest worry about what might happen in the future.

When the concierge snapped for a bellboy to escort her to the penthouse—a different bellboy from last time—she forgot to breathe for a moment as the elevator doors slid shut. This was a one-way ticket to something she had no idea if she was really ready for.

You’re being silly. You have no idea if the rumors are true. No idea if Reid even planned to do anything more than eat dinner. Also? He wasn’t going to hold her prisoner. If she didn’t like where the evening was headed, all she had to do was leave.

Of course, there was always the possibility that she would be on board with more than dinner. Maybe. The jury was still out.

The elevator doors parted, leading to a small alcove with a dazzling white marble floor. She stepped out and faced a closed unmarked door directly opposite the elevator.

“Have a good night, ma’am.” With a silent swoosh of the elevator doors, the bellhop disappeared and then there was nothing left to do but knock.

Except the door opened before she could. Reid stood on the other side, wearing a different suit from earlier. This one had more closely cut lines and a darker hue and showcased his broad shoulders in a way she couldn’t quite ignore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble that lent his handsome face a dangerous edge. Or perhaps she was imagining the edge after her conversation with Grace and Eve.

“Hi, Reid.” Her voice came out all breathless and excited, turning the short phrase into something else entirely.

His gaze slowly traveled down her length, stopping every so often as if he’d run across something worthy of further examination. She felt the heat rise in her exposed chest but she refused to cover herself by crossing her arms. Still, her muscles flexed to do exactly that three times in a row.

“That dress was worth waiting for,” he finally said, his voice as smooth as it had been earlier.

“Waiting for?” She scowled to cover her excitement. Two seconds in and he was already starting the seduction part of the evening, was he? “I wasn’t late. I’m right on time.”

His dark eyes took on a tinge of amusement, but his smile still hadn’t returned. “By my count, I’ve been waiting fifteen years.”

Oh, my. She fell into the possibilities of that statement with a big splat. Had he harbored secret feelings for her way back, as she had for him?

That couldn’t be what he meant. He hadn’t exactly been sitting around pining over her. “What are you talking about? You forgot I existed the second you turned sixteen and your parents gave you that Porsche for your birthday.”

He crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame. “Would you like to continue this argument over a drink, or stay in the hall?”

“You haven’t invited me in yet.”

“I was busy.”

He gave her another sweeping once-over that pulled at her core. And still, he didn’t step aside to allow her to enter his private domain.

She could not get a handle on him, and only part of that stemmed from her sisters’ warnings swirling around in the back of her mind. He’d invited her here, yet didn’t seem to know what to do with her. Maybe she should help him out.

“Well, I’m thirsty,” she informed him with a touch of frost. “So I choose the drink over the hall. You must not entertain much or you’d have already poured me a glass of wine.”

A ghost of a smile played at his lips. “Forgive me, then. I don’t entertain often and my manners are atrocious. Please come in, Ms. O’Malley.”

With that, he stepped aside and swept his hand out. Clearly, she was supposed to take it. So she did.

The moment their flesh connected, awareness sizzled across her skin, raising goose bumps. A bit overwhelmed, she let him lead her into his penthouse.

With a whisper, the door shut behind her, closing her off from the world. And then she saw Chicago lit for the night beyond the glass wall at the edge of Reid’s enormous living room.

“Oh,” she gasped and his hand tightened on hers. “That’s an amazing view.”

Neon and stars, glass and steel, as far as the eye could see. The world was still out there, but they were insulated from it up here, high above the masses.

“I totally agree,” he said quietly and she glanced at him.

His gaze, hot and heavy, was locked on her. Unblinking. Unsettling.

“You’re not even looking.” And then she realized what he meant and heat flushed her nearly exposed breasts again. “Um, didn’t you promise me a drink?”

“I did. Come with me.”

Apparently loath to let go of her hand, he led her to a wet bar where an uncorked bottle of wine stood next to two wineglasses. From that vantage point, she could see into the dining room, where a long table was set for two.

“Your servants have been busy,” she commented as he finally dropped her hand to pour the red wine, filling each glass far past the line she’d have said would be an acceptable amount for a lightweight drinker such as herself.

But then, Reid didn’t really know that about her.

“I gave my servants the night off.” He handed her a glass and when she took it, he held his up in a quick toast. “To old friends.”

She nodded and tossed back a healthy swallow. How she got the wine down her throat was beyond her; he hadn’t taken his eyes off her once since she’d walked through the door and her self-consciousness was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

They were alone in this penthouse where no one could enter unless they had a special key for the elevator. Blessedly, deliciously alone. Should she be frightened? She wasn’t.

Reid had gone to some trouble in anticipation of her arrival. The ambiance was sensual, edgy and quite delicious. All hard things to come by as a widowed single mom. Maybe she was far more wicked than she should be, but Reid made her feel beautiful and desirable and she wasn’t going to apologize for liking it.

“Tell me something,” she said impulsively, suddenly interested in picking up the thread of their conversation from the hallway. “You said you’d been waiting fifteen years for me to show up. What did you mean?”

He cocked his head, tossing a few curls into disarray, and she liked that he wasn’t one of those men who used a ton of hair products. She could slide her fingers through his hair easily.

The thought warmed her further. That would be bold, indeed, if she just reached out and touched him. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do it.

“Our friendship means something to me. I...didn’t ever tell you that.”

“Oh.” A bit thunderstruck, she stared at him as the lines around his mouth grew deeper, expressing more than what his words had. Was he disappointed that he’d never told her for some reason? “That’s okay, Reid. We developed other friendships and went on.”

“You did. I didn’t.”

His cryptic words perplexed her. “You mean you didn’t make other friends? But you were always with the popular crowd, piling into each other’s cars after school and leaving dances or football games together to go someplace more exciting. Or at least that’s always how I imagined it.”

Reid shrugged slightly. “I passed the time with them. That’s all.”

Things weren’t as they appeared back when they’d been in high school? Her heart turned over with a squish. “Sounds like you were a recluse in training, even then.”

If things weren’t as they appeared back then, what’s to say the same wasn’t true now?

His expression darkened. “In a way. I’ve never had much luck connecting with people.”

“Except me.”

Bold. But she didn’t take it back. They’d been dancing around each other and she wanted to get on with the evening, whatever that entailed.

Their gazes met and he watched her as he sipped his wine, neither confirming nor denying the statement.

Go bold or go home. It was her new mantra, one she wanted to embrace all at once.

“Is that why you invited me to dinner?” she asked with a small smile. “Because you’re lonely?”

* * *

“There’s a difference between being lonely and desiring to be alone,” Reid countered.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, now does it?”

Nora was so close, Reid could easily count the individual strands of hair—honey wheat, warm sand, a few shoots of platinum—draped over her shoulder. He suspected it would be cool to the touch if he slid a strand through his fingers.

Dinner had been a mistake.

He’d wrongly thought that he and Nora would catch up, talk a bit about the past, that it would be an innocent opportunity to reminisce about an easier time. Before his world had crashed around his feet. He’d craved that with blinding necessity.

Instead, he’d spent the ten minutes she’d been in his penthouse trying desperately to keep his hands occupied so he didn’t pull her into his arms to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. To see exactly what was under that black dress that showcased a body he hadn’t remembered being so difficult to ignore.

You didn’t seduce an old friend the moment she crossed your threshold. It was uncivilized and smacked of the kind of thing a man with his reputation would do. He’d done his share of perpetuating the myths surrounding his wickedness, mostly because it amused him.

Nora deserved better.

The problem was he had no interest in eating. At all. He’d developed an intense fixation with the hollow between Nora’s breasts, which were scarcely contained by the bits of fabric that composed her dress.

You didn’t stare at an old friend’s rack, no matter how clearly she was inviting you to.

There were probably some other rules he should be reciting to himself right about now, but hell if he could remember what they were.

It had been too long since he’d had a woman in his bed; that was the problem. Nora Winchester O’Malley shouldn’t be the one inciting him to break that fast. If he wanted to make the evening about catching up with an old friend, that was in his power to do.

“You’re right,” he allowed with a nod. “I didn’t answer the question. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to thank you for being a good friend to me. The scales were unbalanced.”

“Oh.” Disappointment shadowed her gaze but she blinked and it was gone. “So dinner was motivated by the need to say thank you. For both of us, it seems.”

“It seems.”

That should have dispelled the sensual, tight awareness between them. That had been his intent. But she smiled and it lit up her face, inviting him in, warming up the places inside that had been cold since the plane crash that had changed everything.

“I feel properly thanked. Do you?” she asked.

“For what?” he nearly growled as he fought to stop himself from yanking her into his arms.

“For the food, silly.” Her hands fisted on her hips. “That’s the whole reason I asked you to dinner, remember?”

Yes, he did. They were two old friends. Nothing more. He had to remember that her labeling it a date might not mean the same thing to her as it did to him.

“Everyone has been properly thanked.” He drained his wineglass and scouted for the bottle. The bite of the aged red centered him again. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Depends on what you’ve got on the menu.”

His gaze collided with hers and yes, she’d meant that exactly the way it sounded. Her smile slipped away as they stared at each other, evaluating, measuring, seeking. Perhaps he’d been going about this evening all wrong and the best course of action was to let their sizzling attraction explode.

But he couldn’t help but think that if that happened, he’d miss out on the very thing he’d craved—friendship.

Four

Somehow, Reid dialed back his crushing desire and escorted Nora into the dining room. Maybe eating would take the edge off well enough to figure out what he wanted from this evening. And how to get it.

Since the servants had the night off, he played the proper host and served the gazpacho his chef had prepared earlier that day.

“This looks amazing, Reid,” Nora commented and dug in.

A woman with a healthy appetite. Reid watched her eat out of the corner of his eye, which wasn’t hard since she was sitting kitty-corner to him at the long teakwood table that he’d picked up on a trip to Bangalore.

The hard part was reminding his body that they’d moved on to dinner. It didn’t seem to have gotten the message. Friendship or seduction? He had to pick a direction. Soon.

“I trust it’s sufficient?” he asked without a trace of irony as Nora spooned the last bite into her candy-pink mouth. Not only had she actually eaten, she’d done it without mussing her lipstick.

That was talent. Of course, now his gaze couldn’t seem to unfasten from her mouth as she nodded enthusiastically.

“So great. I’m jealous of your private chef.” She sighed dramatically. “I wish I had one. I have to cook for myself, which I don’t mind. But some days, it sure would be nice to pass that off to someone else.”

“Why don’t you hire someone?” he suggested. “It’s truly worth it in the end to have control over the fat and sodium content of what goes into your body.”

“When did you become a health nut?”

“When I realized I wasn’t going to live forever and that every bad thing I put in my mouth would speed me on my way to the grave.”

It was a throwaway comment that any man in his thirties might make, but he actually meant it. When you spent a lot of time alone, you needed a hobby. His was his health. He read as many articles and opinion pieces about longevity as he could, tailoring his workouts and eating habits around tried-and-true practices. At one point, he’d even hired a personal dietician but fired him soon after Reid had realized he knew more than the “professional.”

Staying healthy was a small tribute to his late mother and sister. They’d had their lives cut short, so Reid had decided he’d live as long as he could. And he wanted to be in the best shape possible for that.

“Good point. I wish it was as simple as you make it sound.” She smiled wistfully. “But my bank account doesn’t allow for things like private chefs.”

He did a double take. “Did something happen to your father’s fortune?”

Surely not. The scandal of Carson Newport’s parentage wouldn’t have reached the epic proportions that it had if Sutton were broke. Word was that Newport wanted as much of Winchester’s estate as he could get his hands on. Though they’d crossed paths a few times, Newport wasn’t someone Reid spoke to about private matters, so he could only speculate. But he didn’t think Newport was in it for the money. Vengeance, more likely. Which was a shame. Winchester had it coming, but that meant Nora would be caught up in the drama, as well.

Perhaps Newport had already gotten his mitts on Nora’s share?

But she shook her head. “Oh, no. Dad’s money is well intact. I just don’t have any of it. Walking away from Chicago meant walking away from everything. Including my trust fund.”

Reid blinked. “Really? You renounced your inheritance?”

“Really. I don’t want a dime of that money. It’s tainted with the blood of all the people my dad has hurt over the years anyway. Plus, money is the root of all evil, right?” She shrugged one shoulder philosophically. “I’ve been much happier without it.”

“Love of money is the root of all evil,” Reid automatically corrected. Nearly everyone got that quote wrong. “It’s a warning against allowing money to control you. Allowing it to make you into a terrible person in order to get more.”

“Is that a dig at my dad?”

It had actually been a dig at his own father, not hers. Reid contemplated her before responding truthfully. “No. But it applies.”

Sutton Winchester was cut from the same cloth as John Chamberlain, no doubt. Nora’s father just hadn’t had the courtesy to rid the world of his evil presence the way Reid’s father had. Not yet anyway.

“Oh, have you dealt with my dad, then?”

Her slight smile said she knew exactly how much of a bastard her father was, but that didn’t mean she deserved the full brunt of Reid’s honest opinion of the man. Whether this evening consisted of two friends reconnecting or two friends connecting in a whole new way remained to be seen, but he imagined bad-mouthing Nora’s father wouldn’t benefit either scenario.

“Let’s just say that we’ve got a solid truce and as long as he stays in his corner, I stay in mine.”

That was a mild and very politically correct way to put it. Because when it came to business, Winchester fought dirty. His misdeeds had included paying off a judge to rule against a Chamberlain Group rezoning request, planting a spy at a relatively high level in Reid’s organization and—the pièce de résistance—attempting to poison Chamberlain Group’s reputation in the media with false allegations about Reid’s ties to the mob. Winchester had gall. Reid had patience, influence and money—he’d won in the end.

“Well, I’m sure my father is the poster child for what happens to people who love money more than their own family,” she said without hesitation. “It’s part of the reason I left. I got tired of living the life of a socialite, doing nothing more meaningful than being photographed in the latest fashion or showing up at a charity event. Money doesn’t buy anything worthwhile.”

He topped off both wineglasses and served the main course, cold lamb and pasta, then picked up the thread of the conversation. “When used correctly, money is a tool that makes life better.”

“Doesn’t seem to have done that for you,” she pointed out, tilting her wineglass toward him in emphasis. “You shut yourself up in this billion-dollar prison. I’ve been in your presence twice now, and I have yet to see any evidence that money has made you happy.”

What would she say if he agreed with her? If he said that money had done nothing but give his father the power to rip away Reid’s soul? First by never being any kind of a father figure and then by taking his family with him on his journey to judgment day. The elder Chamberlain had picked his three-million-dollar Eclipse 550 as his weapon of choice, crashing the small jet deliberately and killing his wife and daughter.

Reid hadn’t been on board. He’d been too busy chasing that next dollar.

Scary how alike he and his father were. You could run, but you couldn’t hide from genetics. That’s why Reid hadn’t hesitated to say no when Nash came looking for someone to take in Sophia’s twins. Reid wasn’t father material. Reid was barely human material.

Money hadn’t insulated him from heartache; it only afforded him the means to create what Nora called a prison. To him, it was a refuge.

“I like being alone,” he finally said. “Having more money than the Bank of Switzerland allows me the luxury of kicking people out of my presence whenever I deem it necessary.”

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