BILLIONAIRE FOR KEEPS: Book 3 (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (3 page)

“Inside of a year. Still have some finishing touches to add.”

“Doing them yourself?”

Heading for a set of glass doors, he sent her an odd look. “I get people in.”

Well, sure. He owned his own building company, after all. 

“This view will take you back,” he said as they moved out onto an extensive timber landing overlooking the lake.

As frogs burped and a gentle breeze rustled through maple leaves, he wound a strong arm around her. It seemed natural to lean in, to relax. Silly, but Vanessa felt like she was home.

She asked the question that had chipped away at her all the drive here.

“All those years, before catching up with my dad again…did you ever think about that summer?”

“You mean think about that eight-year-old with the big caring eyes?” He bundled her closer as he kissed her crown. “I thought about a lot of things. About knowing more than how to bait a hook, or ring up a sale. About owning a company like your Dad’s. In fact, owning
that
company in particular.” His grin faded. “I thought about having a life, a full life, like you and your family had.”

Good answer, but not exactly what her purely romantic side was after.

Then he turned her to face him.

“
And
I thought about meeting you again some day. When we were older. When I was established.” His head lowered and the tip of his nose touched hers. “And here we are.”

She sighed.
Yeah
. “Here we are.”

He kissed her then, with skill and heat, but also with a tenderness that made her ache. It was as if her lips had been made for his. Like no matter how long she lived, where she went, what she did, she could never feel this beautiful again.

When the kiss broke, he traced a fingertip around her cheek and searched her eyes with a knowing grin that made her quiver from head to curling toe.

“We need to do something.”

She blew out a breath that sounded exaggerated but wasn’t faked one bit. “You don’t mess around do you?”

His head kicked back and he laughed. “You have a one track mind, know that?”

Craning up on tiptoe, she brushed her own grin over his. “I really need to control myself.”

“I didn’t say that.”

His mouth claimed hers again while his hands sculpted over her sides and hard thighs pressed against hers. When they came up for air, his breathing was labored. So was hers.

He said, “I was going to suggest a walk by the lake in the moonlight.”

She wound her fingers up into the warm scrummy cotton his shirt. Before she kissed him, he murmured against her lips, “Definitely later.”

As Griffin swung her up into his arms and carried her off to the bedroom, Vanessa hung on tight. Sure, they’d only known each other again five minutes. Never before had she ever contemplated going this far so soon.

But she had the biggest feeling she wouldn’t regret being with Griffin come morning.

The magnetic pull locking them together was too powerful to ignore. Was it a soul mate thing? Or simply biological? Pheromones that clicked. Pieces of an intricate wonderful puzzle that magically, irreversibly locked. 

Now, as he laid her on the bed and once again covered her mouth with his, she arched toward him, hooked a foot all the up his thigh. And as that kiss broke into desperate snatches, he kneeled on the bed and wound out of his shirt. She fumbled with hers.

When his chest was bare and pumping, she grabbed his hand. “I could use some help.”

This was a favorite blouse, cream silk with delicate gold buttons, but right now she was okay with him ripping it off.

Instead, he slowed it all down.

In the moonlight slanting in through a window, she watched his face, how his gaze searched hers as he took his time with one tiny button then the next. The tension was delicious and mind-blowing and
cruel
. 

She shifted up onto her elbows. “I thought we were in a hurry.”

“We have time.” He flicked another button, slid a finger inside the gap and out again. “Slow is good.”

Vanessa dropped her head back and groaned. “If it doesn’t kill me first.”

As his smile, his mouth, joined with hers, he manoeuvred the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms. With silk sleeves bunched at her elbows, he reached around and snapped open the clasp of her bra. Then the two of them tangled and literally fused.

Griffin was right. Slow was good. Was
wonderful
. She wanted to make this last.

And last and last and last...

*

In the predawn hours, she and Griffin lay beneath the covers facing each other. His look said:
Not finished yet
.

He trailed a warm fingertip around her jaw, and then reached to feather a kiss under the lobe of her ear, on a patch of skin that Griffin had learned tonight was more sensitive than almost any other. She quivered and sighed and grazed a palm over the heavenly hot plain of his chest. This…what they’d shared…what she was feeling…

It was
insane.

Insanely, deliciously good.

She drew a circle around his nipple before taking it all the way down his middle to his navel and back up.

“Question,” she said, trailing down again, “and I want an honest answer.”

“Keep doing that and I’ll say anything you want.”

He nipped her lower lip, drew it into his mouth. Before he got carried away again, she pushed against his shoulder. “
Hey
. Focus.”

He leaned in, nipped again. “That’s what I’m doing.”

She let him nuzzle down that side of her throat. When he slid her leg over his hip and nuzzled lower, she shook herself and asked, “Have you ever had a serious relationship?”

“You mean before this one?”

When he kissed another highly sensitive spot, she wiggled down until they were eye to eye again.

Dawn had begun to play with the shadows, throwing light back from his eyes into hers before he came close to kiss her again.

She murmured through the caress, “You’re avoiding the question.”

“What question?”

“I’m just asking. I don’t care if you have.”

“A serious relationship?” He pulled back a little and frowned. “Define serious.”

“
You
define serious.”

He dropped his gaze. “Serious is when you care more deeply than you thought you could.
Believed
you should.”

Wow
.

“That’s a really good definition.” She prodded. “So…?”

“We’ve known each other exactly no time at all. But I haven’t felt about any woman the way I feel about you. That’s the whole scary truth.”

“Scary?”

“In a good way.” His eyes drifted shut as his head angled and his mouth brushed hers. “The
best
possible way.”

And as he brought the sheet up over the heads and the rest of the universe faded into ‘so not important’, Vanessa thought she agreed. This minute she was a little scared. Scared of feeling too much way too soon. Scared this couldn’t possibly get any better. That sometime, maybe soon, she’d find out that this had been fuelled by something other than reality.

That this couldn’t be as true and simple as it seemed.

Nothing was the same. Felt the same.

Meant
the same.

After returning from that amazing weekend away in Point St. Claire, Vanessa couldn’t concentrate on storyboards or model shoots or anything other than the next time she and Griffin would be together.

As she daydreamed and swiped through the latest
VeeTee
online catalogue, she paused at the nightwear section―not to analyse the line or fall of any fabric, whether the image captured the essence of her brand. Vanessa tapped a pen against her smile and wondered about Griffin’s favorite color. Whether he preferred the feel of silk or satin or lace.

Maybe this pink pleated baby-doll slip. Or a super sexy black teddy. No, definitely those funky new flannel leggings with a
Take the Snuggle Dare
tank
.

“What are you giggling at?”

Her gaze snapped up. Her father stood at her office doorway, an amused smile on his face.

She closed down the page, got to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking my beautiful daughter to lunch.”

“Is it that time already?” She crossed over and gave her father a kiss, a big hug.

Her dad chuckled, but then paused to look at her harder. “You look happy. Radiate, in fact.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“Any particular reason.”

She and Griffin had been seeing each regularly now for several weeks. Every time they were together, she only felt more certain. She hadn’t wanted to mention anything too soon. But now… Well, her father had to know sometime. There wasn’t a reason in the world he wouldn’t be pleased.

“Dad, Griffin and I are seeing each other.”

Ronan’s head went back before a chuffed grin spread across his face. “So, you two are an item.”

“You could say that.”

“My two favorite people.” Ronan’s eyes had grown misty. “You’ll make a great team. A wonderful couple.”

Vanessa gave her father a playful poke in the ribs. “Don’t go putting me in a white dress and veil just yet.” She grabbed her jacket from the coat stand. “And don’t you dare whisper in Griffin’s ear about diamond rings, either.”

What will be will be
. No shoving allowed.

When he only gave a cheeky grin, Vanessa wanted to laugh, push it aside. But she knew Ronan would give anything to see her truly happy long-term, particularly with a man he admired and, most likely, had come to love as a son.

She got her tote and, with arms linked, father and daughter headed out. Waiting at the lift, Vanessa noticed something odd. A drag, as if her father was leaning on her. But his color and breathing were normal. He was standing as straight as ever. Looking ahead at the closed lift doors, his eyes did look weary behind their glasses, but he wasn’t a young man anymore.

No matter how rich and successful, invincibility was nothing more than an illusion.

Ronan Toomey really ought to consider slowing down.

*

The test was inconclusive, which didn’t ease Vanessa’s mind one scrap.

She took the contraceptive pill every day on time. Griffin protected himself, too. And, yes, they spent a lot of time doing what couples in love did when they were together alone.

Sitting in her attached bathroom, Vanessa stared down at the plastic indicator wand, willing that faintest of faint pink lines to make up its mind.

It was a
no
, obviously. Movies had pregnant women barfing all the time, desperate for chocolate and pizza and pickles, all at the same time. Her breasts weren’t the least bit tender, and if she listened very hard to her body, it was saying,
Don’t worry. It’s just you and me.

All the same, it made her think more deeply about her and Griffin and what came next. Whether they might actually have a future.

Not that she would bring it up. No quicker way to scare someone off than coming across all
Let’s make date for the chapel.

She studied the wand one last time. Definitely had to be negative.

So, she got to her feet, hovered the wand over the bathroom trash can, but slipped it inside a drawer instead.

A souvenir, just in case.

*

Later that week, Vanessa paid a visit. Not to her doctor’s office. To one of Boston’s biggest construction sites.

Her father had gifted her a bright pink hard hat years ago. Now she settled the hat more firmly on her head, and then crept up behind the unsuspecting man in charge. She waited until she was right up close and then stealthily pinched a bun.

Looking like he was ready to deck someone, Griffin wheeled around. Then recognition flashed in his eyes and he grinned like he only wanted her to do it again.

With workers all around, he stole a lingering kiss. “What are you doing here? How did you get through? This is a cordoned off area.”

She tapped her hat. “Guess I look the part.” She drew a finger and thumb down the length of his tie. “So do you. Your hat’s not as pretty as mine, but I’m liking the iridescent yellow vest, and really impressive looking surveying…stick and prong thingo.”

“Commonly referred to in the business as a tripod level and staff.” He pretended to look at her sideways. “You’re a Toomey. You should know that.”

“My father is the construction guru. I’m into girlie stuff.”

He edged a covert glance around and nodded at a female on the job, driving an excavator like the professional she obviously was. “Glad I didn’t say that.”

Because it sounded sexist? Was politically incorrect? It was also true. Vanessa Toomey was known for creating ‘every girl’ fashion, not for developing roads or bridges or buildings. Her father had accepted that a long time ago.

Vanessa crossed her arms and surveyed whatever it was
he’d
been surveying before she’d rocked up on the scene. Lots of jack-hammering and concrete pouring going on. She should have thought before wearing these suede heels. Griffin’s boots, like everyone else’s on this job, were dirty as. Bet he loved getting out here amongst it.

She dug her phone out from her tote. “Grab a shovel, work up a nice sweat, and I’ll snap a few off for my personal collection.”

“I’m more
behind the scenes
, like you.” He leaned closer and spoke out the side of his mouth. “Don’t tell anyone, but I suck at the actual
building stuff
part.”

She waited. But he was totally serious. “Griffin, that’s what you do. Your company slogan is
We build it right
.”

“Correct. But I do the thinking, the planning. I missed out on the ‘can physically put things together’ gene.”

Her chin tucked in. “
No
.” He had to be kidding.

“Put a hammer in my hand, I smack my thumb every time. Don’t get me started on staple guns.” He pretended to shudder and she laughed.

As he ushered her over to a refreshment stand, away from others’ earshot (not that much could be heard over the vibrating noise), she looked him up and down.

“So, I’m dating a klutz? Since when?”

He handed over a cup of cool water. “I have one crystal clear memory of my father. He’d been drinking. In fact, dear old Stanley was smashed. He’d painted the sign himself.
Hayes Bait and Tackle
. The ladder was out, propped up against the shop front. When he went back inside to get another drink, I heard an argument start up between him and mom. I thought…if he climbs that ladder, he’ll fall for sure. Break his stupid neck. So, I took the hammer and nails and climbed that creaky old ladder myself.”

Oh, no.
“He was angry with you.”

“Nope. He passed out. So did I. Right after I fell and fractured my arm.” Griffin rotated a shoulder, exercising it. “Hasn’t been the same since.”

Vanessa slowly shook her head. “I didn’t mean to…” she began before hugging him extra tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I can’t imagine a father…” She pulled away. “It must have been so hard.”

“I was glad when he left. No. Not glad.
Relieved
. My mother cried the night Stanley walked out. But in the morning…well, life was a whole lot brighter.”

“Not all families are like that.”

“Nessa, not all families are like yours.”

She thought about that other much smaller staff, the indicator wand, in her bathroom drawer at home and silently added,
Or like our family, if we have one.
But now, after hearing that story about his dad…how would Griffin feel about becoming a father himself?

The new black is orange…pickles or cheese…

Maybe their next conversation needed to be about parenthood.