The Billionaire's Secret (11 page)

Jon was quiet for a moment, then answered,
“I told you about my father passing suddenly when I was ten. He
suffered from a rare brain tumor that was inoperable. When he died,
I vowed to create something that could assist surgeons in these
types of procedures. When I graduated from college, I started
Vinchi Medical Engineering.”

She reached out to give his hand a squeeze.
“I’m sorry. Losing your father must have been very difficult. You
were so young.”

“It was a long time ago, but I still
remember what it felt like to grow up without a father. My mom
struggled as a single mother, juggling her job and helping me with
my schoolwork. She tried to be both Mother and Father.”

An uncomfortable silence hung between them.
Lizette knew what it felt like not to want to relive the past, so
to change the subject she asked, “You said one branch designs
surgical robotics. What do the other branches design?”

“Another division handles the software that
controls the robotic functions. I am submitting a proposal to the
FDA, so I can’t discuss the details of this project. I hope you
understand.”

“Yes, of course. We all have parts of our
job that are off-limits for casual discussions.”

“We’re about halfway to our destination.
It’s my turn to ask some questions. I know about your job and your
volunteer work. Tell me something most people don’t know about
you.”

“There isn’t anything to tell. What you see
is what you get.”

“Everyone has something. How about a secret
indulgence?”

“Jon, I kept my questions nice and easy, not
too personal.”

“That was your choice, not mine.” He
smiled.

“Hmm, good point. Okay, I love
chocolate.”

“Boring. Come on, Lizette, don’t play shy. I
know there is more to you than what you let people see.”

“Maybe I am shy.”

“I’m waiting . . .”

“Okay, I live for Friday nights, when I grab
a glass of white zinfandel, slip into a hot bubble bath, and read.”
She chose not to tell him she read steamy romance novels that were
sometimes even hotter than the water in the tub.

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

“It’s not that unusual. Many people like to
relax on Friday after a long week at work.”

“I know it’s not unusual.”

“Then why that look?”

“I was just wondering if you’re free for
dinner again Friday?” he said with a smirk on his face that said he
wasn’t joking.

Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment. “I
wasn’t trying to tempt you, Jon.”

Jon tilted her chin to face him. “You may
not be trying, Lizette, but you’ve done nothing else since you
bumped into me last Friday night.”

She couldn’t deny the effect his hand had on
her face, and how she wished he would touch her bare skin
everywhere else.

As though he were reading her innermost
desires, he kissed her lightly, until she found herself pulling him
closer. She wanted more. Needed more. The husky groan that escaped
his lips ignited her desire for him. She felt the heat building in
the pit of her belly and spreading throughout her body. Her hands
ran over his dress shirt, wishing she could rip it off him to feel
his hot flesh beneath.

Jon gently took her hands in his and held
them in front of him, slowly pulling away from her embrace. She
could tell he was as affected by their embrace as she was; they
were both left breathing heavily against each other. “Let’s finish
this discussion after dinner, when we’re alone.”

Oh, my God.
She had totally forgotten
they were not alone.
The pilot! How embarrassing.
She turned
and hid her face in his shoulder.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I
don’t normally behave like that.”

“Like what? A vibrant, exciting, passionate
woman? There is something between us. I know you feel it too.”

In barely a whisper, she answered,
“Yes.”

They sat quietly, Lizette close to Jon, for
the remainder of the flight. Jon lifted her hand to his lips and
kissed it. Even this simple gesture sent chills through her.
Lizette could not deny her attraction to him. The question was, how
long would she be able to control the desire building within her,
growing stronger with every look, every touch?
How am I going to
get through this evening without giving in to him, giving in to
myself?

Something about him brought out a side of
her she wasn’t used to. A more adventurous side, a wild side. This
was the part of her buried deep within her. Being with Jon was
dangerous because what she had hidden until now was fighting to
break free. It was going to take all her strength not to give in to
her desire to share a wild weekend with Jon. Why had she agreed to
go to dinner with him? Oh, that answer was simple—not only was he
hot and sexy, but also intelligent and charming. The question she
could not answer was, what was he doing with her? He could have his
pick of women, all of whom would be throwing themselves at his
feet. Lizette had not made it easy for him. So why her, after
everything she’d put him through at the park?

A slight bump announced they had landed. Jon
asked, “Ready for that dinner I promised?”

Not trusting her voice not to reveal too
much, she answered with a nod.

Taking in her surroundings, Lizette saw they
were in New York City. When Jon had asked her to dinner, she had
thought he meant someplace more local. Her head told her to stop,
get back on the helicopter, and go back to Chepachet—her hometown,
where she belonged. But there was a part of her that was excited by
this adventure, the mystery of what lay ahead.

Taking her hand in his, Jon guided Lizette
to a white limo, waiting for them. “So where are we going?”

“Someplace I think you will enjoy.”

“No hints?”

“Okay. It’s close by, at the Time Warner
Center.”

“Well, that’s a lousy hint.” She nudged him
with her elbow. “How about another one?”

“One is all you get.”

“Fine, I can be patient.” After a moment she
asked, “How far away did you say it was?”

The limo pulled to the curb. “We’re
here.”

“Masa?”

“Yes, Masa.”

“How did you know I like Japanese
cuisine?”

“I saw a few Japanese cookbooks in your
home, as well as a travel guide for Japan. I thought this was a
safe bet.”

What else had he noticed while she’d been
changing? He was very observant, and it was obvious he knew more
about her than she knew about him. She would need to rectify that
this evening.

They entered the restaurant, and it was just
as she had imagined from the outside: black wooden chairs set
against beige walls and tables. Bamboo and Japanese writings
decorated the walls. There were no bright colors or lights blinding
your eyes. The entire restaurant was set up to make the food, not
the décor, the center of attention. Masa only served twenty people
at a time. It was known not only as one of the top Japanese
restaurants in New York City, but as one of the best in the United
States.

“Jon. I didn’t expect this.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“
Like
is not strong enough. I don’t
know what to say.” Looking around one more time, as if this were
just a dream, she said, “Thank you.”

Jon only nodded, then motioned for the
hostess, who quickly seated them at the sushi bar. A young Japanese
woman presented them with menus. Lizette took her time examining
each item, looking forward to tasting exotic food from a country
she dreamt of visiting one day. The menu looked amazing, and she
knew what she wanted the moment she saw it. She would start with a
wasabi, artichoke, beet and chicwawa salad, and then move on to the
tai sea bream with octopus and summer ruffles. Jon joined her in
her choice of salad but chose the ten-year-old rock oysters and
hamachi, or yellowtail sushi.

The chef entered and began preparing their
dishes directly in front of them. It was obvious from his skills
with a knife he was an expert. Neither spoke, but Lizette felt Jon
watching her as she absorbed every cut the chef made.

He sliced the salmon for the sushi
paper-thin. Then his hands moved like a magician’s as he
transformed a scoop of rice and salmon into a masterpiece. This
wasn’t a place you came to just eat; this was a place to experience
a master at work.

The evening reignited her childhood dream to
one day travel to Japan and learn how to cook authentic Japanese
food.

After they finished dinner, Jon paid the
check, and they quietly left Masa hand in hand. She could not
remember enjoying herself so much before. No man had ever taken the
time to plan something that was her heart’s desire. She may have
won that raffle on Friday, but this was really the date of her
dreams, and there was no one else she would have wanted to share it
with.

They slipped into the limo and sat with
fingers entwined, gently stroking each other’s hands.

“Jon, I had been dreaming for years of
seeing something like this firsthand.”

“I’m glad we could experience this together.
So, tell me—why all the magazines and books on Japan?”

“When I was young, my parents took me to a
Japanese sushi bar and steakhouse. It can’t compare to this, but at
a young age, I remember being drawn to all the decorations and
bright colors inside. Then the chef came out and prepared the sushi
right in front of me. He flipped his knives, and the flames shot
high while he cooked our shrimp. It was fascinating how quickly and
precisely they made everything. When they were done, the food
looked like a work of art to me, and I wouldn’t eat mine. I told my
parents it was too pretty. Of course, my parents were not thrilled
because I cried when they began to eat theirs.”

“Well, I’m glad you could bring yourself to
eat it tonight. I’m not sure what I would have done if you’d
started crying in the restaurant.” He laughed.

“Oh, me too.” She laughed. “I told my
parents someday I would go to Japan and learn how to cook just like
the professionals; someday I was going to be a famous Japanese
chef. My parents of course said what all parents say, ‘You can be
anything you want to be, but you have to be willing to work hard to
get it.’ For the next month, I went to the library every night and
borrowed books on Japanese cooking. There was just one problem. At
that age, although I could read most of the words, I had no idea
what they meant. After a while, I guess I figured my dream wasn’t
realistic, and I decided I would learn how to cook Japanese food
for my own enjoyment.” A slight sigh of the disappointment still
lingering within her escaped before she continued, “Did you know
that you can actually take personal cooking lessons in Tokyo? They
have seven-day crash courses in authentic Japanese cooking and
sushi making.”

“So you’re going to travel to the other side
of the world just to learn to make sushi? Look who has a hidden
adventurous side.”

“Maybe I do.” Changing the topic, she said,
“Jon, tonight was . . . well, it was absolutely amazing. I hate for
it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to end. Spend the
night.”

She looked as if she was about to decline
his offer, yet she said nothing. How could she concentrate when his
fingers were leaving her hand and making their way up her arm and
bare shoulder, sending chills through her as he touched her neck
and chin and traced her lips? He was such a strong, powerful man,
but he could make her melt with a feather-soft touch.

Her mouth opened to speak, but instead she
slowly licked her lips, and her eyes closed as she arched toward
him, wanting him to replace his fingers with his lips.

Lizette heard the limo’s privacy window
close. Jon cupped her face with his hands and kissed her lightly,
slowly, tenderly. His tongue traced her lips, asking her to open to
him, which she did.

His kisses became deep and exploring, filled
with promise, and his hands began to stroke her breasts. Between
kisses, he whispered, “Stay with me tonight.”

Her response was to pull him closer.

The limo came to a stop. Jon’s kisses slowed
once again as he struggled to gain self-control, but every muscle
in his body was still tense against hers. She knew her own body was
on fire, her breasts aching for him to release them from the
confines of her lace bra.

Once Jon had pulled away from her, she
smoothed her hair back into place while he straightened his
tie.

Jon opened the door and extended his hand to
her. This was it. She had to decide now. Get out of the limo,
follow her heart, and spend the night with him, or say no, ask him
to take her back to Rhode Island, and spend the rest of her life
wondering what if.

All it took was one look into his dark eyes,
and she knew her answer. She wanted—no, needed—to explore these new
feelings. Placing her hand in his, she stepped out of the limo.

They rode the elevator in silence, no need
for words as the sexual tension between them grew so thick you
could cut it with a knife. Jon opened the door to his penthouse. He
wanted to rip off that sexy little black dress that only enhanced
what had been taunting him all night. The throbbing between his
legs ached for release, but he knew he needed to take things
slowly. Nothing about tonight was meant to quickly satisfy the
pent-up frustration within him. And pent-up they were. Several
times throughout the last few days, all he’d been able to think
about was exploring every inch of Lizette’s body until she could
remember nothing but his name. There was time for that later. For
now, he needed to slow down.

He led her to the living room. “Please make
yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a
glass of wine?”

“Yes, that would be nice, thank you,” she
answered as she continued to stand.