The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) (3 page)

What was I doing? Why was I still there? This was a one-night stand. I wasn't supposed to stay. I was supposed to sneak out and never see him again. At that thought, my stomach clenched and I felt like throwing up. But that was just the hangover, right? I didn't even know the guy. Other than his first name, I knew nothing about him. Well, his first name and that he was fabulous in bed. And sweet, I thought, remembering the way he'd held me in the tub and as we'd slept.

I shouldn't leave. It was rude to sneak out. Maybe he wanted me to stay. I was wavering until he shifted in the bed and rolled over. At the thought that he was waking up, that he might be about to open those dark eyes and look at me with disgust or disinterest, I crept out of the room as fast as I could. The night before had been amazing. Mind blowing. I couldn't stand the thought that he might look at me with regret . . . or worse, disappointment.

Moving as quickly as I could, I made my way back to the kitchen, where I discovered that Holden hadn't fucked me on the counter. It had been a huge, white, marble-topped island, and my dress was still puddled in the center, beside a wooden bowl of fresh fruit.

Still life with abandoned dress
.

I shuddered and grabbed it, yanking it over my head as soon as I had my bra snapped. At least I'd dropped all my clothes in the same place. Slipping my sore feet into Emily's torture chamber shoes, I located my purse on its side, half the contents spilled out onto the floor. Hastily, I shoved everything back in and snuck out the door, praying the elevator didn't need a handprint to let me out. It didn't.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked into the lobby, my head held high, shoulders back. This was my very first walk of shame, but I wasn't going to actually
be
ashamed.

I wasn't
.

Okay, so I'd slept with a guy I didn't know. Not my best move. But there was nothing wrong with it. People did it all the time. It was over, and no one had to know.

I headed out of the building, ignoring the enticing scent of coffee filling the first level. I didn't dare linger at the scene of the crime. Not that I thought Holden was coming after me. When he woke up, he'd probably be relieved I was gone.

I
rolled
over and stretched my arm across the bed, reaching for something. When my fingers encountered only cool, smooth sheets, my eyes opened, and I stared at the ceiling, waiting for my brain to come back online.

What had I been reaching for? Rolling over, I caught sight of the indented pillow, smelled sex in my bed, and remembered. Josephine. I was reaching for Josephine.

I had no idea what time it was. My phone hadn't made it to the nightstand, and I didn't have a clock in the bedroom.

I didn't have to check the time to know she was gone. The apartment felt too empty. Fuck.

Fuck
.

I rarely brought women back to my place. Tate, my cousin who owned the other apartment on this floor, brought women home all the time. It wasn't the weekend if I didn't run into one of his giggling, half-drunk party girls stumbling to his door.

Personally, I didn't like dealing with the morning after shit. When women got a good look at where I lived, they usually started angling to stay—offering to make me breakfast or fuck me all weekend. To be fair, it wasn't just the apartment. Most of them already knew who I was. No Winters can keep a low profile in this town. My family has been making the news since well before I was born. Nothing gets attention like a ton of money wrapped up in scandal.

That was one of the things I liked about Josephine. It was clear she had no idea who I was. She was an innocent, her blue eyes wide as she'd walked into Mana with her dip-shit date. She'd caught my attention the second she crossed the threshold, and not just because I'd been bored and annoyed with Tate's date for the night.

Josephine had easily been the most beautiful woman there. That body. Fuck. Her dress had been elegant and sexy, but not blatant. On a different woman, the dress might have even been subdued. Not on Josephine. Her body was all curves, from her shapely legs to her round ass to her luscious tits. I could have spent all day worshipping those tits. She had pale skin for a blonde. When she'd been naked, spread out on the marble of my kitchen island, she'd been a lush work of art, straight out of the Renaissance.

Fucking gorgeous. I'd wanted to smack her date when he'd made a comment about her weight. Calling him a moron was an insult to morons. How he could look at a body like Josephine's and think she needed to change a God dammed thing was beyond me. Everything about her was perfect.

And her pussy. At the thought of her pussy, my mouth watered and my cock came to full attention. God damn, she'd had the tightest, sweetest pussy I'd fucked in as long as I could remember. The way she came for me, so easily, her cunt scalding hot and clenching down on my cock as she'd screamed.

Fuck
.

It started to hit me that she was really gone. I'd never wanted to see a hookup the next day. I was usually the one sneaking out. I would have thought I'd be grateful the girl I'd picked up had taken off. If it had been any other girl, I would have been. But I'd fallen asleep with the taste of Josephine in my mouth, and waking up alone sucked. I didn't even know her last name.

Irritation flooded through me, and I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower, half-hoping I'd turn out to be wrong and she'd still be around somewhere. When I emerged from the shower to the scent of freshly brewed coffee, I was a little embarrassed at the surge of eagerness in my chest. Maybe I'd been wrong, and she was still here.

The look on my face when I saw Tate sitting at my kitchen island must have been amusing, because he laughed and said, "What, expecting someone else?"

I pulled up a stool and sat at the island, hunched over my elbows, suddenly cranky, hungry, and wishing I were alone.

"Fuck you," I said without heat. "How is it that you constantly lose your keys, but you always manage to unlock
my
door?"

A full, steaming mug of coffee slid under my nose. I picked it up and took a sip, the taste of fresh coffee chasing away some of the cobwebs.

"So," Tate said, waiting until I'd finished most of my first cup. "Spill. Where's the girl? Don't tell me you didn't break your rule and bring her back here. I saw that kiss. If you weren't a legend with the staff before, you are now."

"Fuck you," I repeated, knowing I'd end up telling Tate everything. Not quite everything. He didn't need to know the details of how amazing Josephine was. If I ever managed to track her down, I didn't want competition from my cousin. Not that he would do that to me. Shit, I was in a bad mood.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me everything," he said. I let out a sigh and finished my coffee.

"Tell me you brought food," I grumbled, getting up to refill my mug from the vacuum carafe on the counter.

"In the oven," Tate said, sliding his mug toward me. I poured his coffee and opened the oven door. The scents of bread, cheese, and bacon wafted out, and my stomach growled. The coffee house downstairs not only had fantastic coffee, but they made amazing breakfast sandwiches. Since we lived on the tenth floor and had our offices on the fourth, Tate and I ate there a lot. I grabbed an oven mitt and retrieved our breakfast. Ignoring Tate, I sat back on my stool and dug in. He did the same.

"At least tell me you broke your rule and brought her home," Tate said when he was done. I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich and brushed my hands off on my jeans, finally feeling awake.

"I did," I admitted. Tate let out a shout of glee.

"I knew it. How was she?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "She looked wound tight, but sometimes, those are the best when you get them naked."

I stayed silent. Tate wasn't trying to be an asshole. We didn't go into extreme detail about the women we fucked, but we were tight, and we had more than our share of hookups. Normally, I'd say something like,
she was fuckin' amazing
, he'd say,
right on
, and we'd change the subject.

I opened my mouth to play the game and found the words stuck in my throat. For the first time in my life, I understood what
fucking amazing
truly meant. Josephine had been the best fuck of my life because it was more than a fuck. I don't know how, since I barely knew her, but last night had been more than just sex. I dropped my head to stare at the marble countertop. Fuck.

"What?" Tate asked. "Don't tell me it was bad. I saw that kiss. Half the girls in the room were wet by the time you left. She was hot as fuck."

Yeah, she was. I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it. Finally, I said, "She was perfect, and when I woke up this morning, she was gone."

Tate stared at me, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. After a pause, he recovered from his shock and said carefully, "And this is a problem?"

"Yes," I said, my voice tight, eyes still on the counter. "This is a problem. She snuck out in the middle of the night. I don't have her last name, her number, anything."

Tate shrugged. "Does it matter? It was just a hook-up, right? I can't imagine you had that much time to talk."

"We didn't do a lot of talking," I admitted. We hadn't. So why did I care that she'd taken off? Because the sex was that good? It had been, but was that enough of a reason to go chasing after some girl? "I still want to find her," I said.

"You sure?" Tate asked. "We'll track her down if you want to, but think about it first. Do you really want to get yourself tied up in knots over some girl? What are the chances this is going to be anything other than just sex?"

I pushed off my stool and paced the kitchen, letting Tate's words run through my head. I knew what he was getting at. Winters men did not have good luck with relationships. Only one of us, my oldest brother, Aiden, had been married, and he was two years divorced at thirty-two. We were notorious: wealthy, powerful, and cursed. Love was a complication every one of us had avoided. Even Aiden had married more for practicality than any emotion.

My night with Josephine had been spectacular, but let's be honest. I could get sex—amazing sex—any time I wanted it. What was so special about
her
? I barely knew her. I definitely didn't know her well enough to risk opening myself up to the pain of a relationship. All of us had been through too much loss too young. We played things loose as adults. Winters men worked hard, had fun, and were loyal only to each other. It kept us safe and whole. If I were smart, I'd forget about Josephine, chalk the night up to a great memory, and move on.

"You're right," I said, bringing my empty mug to the carafe, snagging Tate's along the way. "It's not a big deal."

I refilled our mugs and handed Tate his as he said, "Did you look over the report on the new physics engine?"

"I did," I said, trying to switch gears to work. "I'm not surprised it's running behind. We scheduled it that way, knowing it would hit some snags. But I think you're right. We might consider delaying development of Syndrome 2 a few months so we can incorporate the new features. The graphics would be unbelievable if we used the new engine."

"It won't be ready for GDC," he said, referring to the Game Developers Conference.

I shrugged. "We have enough buzz without it."

Tate and I had branched off from Winters Enterprises’ typical investments in business—real estate, shipping, and emerging resources—to start a gaming company. So far, we'd mainly built games, but in the last year, we'd begun development on a new physics engine that would change gaming as we knew it. Once we got the bugs worked out, we'd be able to license the engine to other developers, as well as use it in our own games. Both creatively and financially, it would be a massive coup.

So massive, I really should have been able to keep my mind on our conversation. Instead, all I could think about was Josephine. I'd fucked her right there on the marble island. She'd been so fucking tight and sweet. I'd never be able to look at my kitchen without thinking of her hot pussy clamping down on my cock, milking my orgasm from me as she screamed her release. I shook my head, trying to chase off the memory.

I was not going to go chasing after a one-night stand. It was only asking for trouble. I'd forget the way we'd slept together, the way she'd curled into me, her long, blonde hair streaming over my chest, her soft breasts pressed against my skin. The way she'd smelled, sweet and clean, how she'd curled her fingers around my arm as she'd drifted off, holding me close in sleep. It didn't mean anything.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Tate asked. I looked over to see his sharp blue eyes narrowed on my face. No one knew me like Tate. We were born three months apart and looked enough alike that people often mistook us for twins. We'd lived a charmed life when we'd been too young to remember it. By the time we were five, and everything fell apart, we'd learned to stick together. As the youngest males in the Winters clan, Tate and I had been a team. He knew what was on my mind almost as soon as the thought formed. It was useless to try to hide anything from him—what he didn't sense, he'd pry out of me.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I can't really explain it. I know I don't know her. I know we just fucked. But I can't leave it like this. Maybe I'll find her, take her out, and it doesn't work. I can live with that. But I have to know."

Tate shifted gears from trying to talk me out of going after Josephine. He knew me well enough to sense when he'd be wasting his time. And true to Tate, he was loyal, first, last, and always. He'd done his best to talk sense into me, and now that I was determined to go over the cliff, I'd do it with him at my back.

"So," he said, getting practical. "What did you find out about her? Atlanta isn't that big. We can find one woman."

I laughed. Tate was right. Not about Atlanta not being big. It was a city of five and a half million people. One woman could easily disappear into the masses. Except I was a Winters. This was my city, and I had resources. If I really wanted to find Josephine, she wouldn't be able to hide from me for long.

"She's a grad student at Tech," I said. "CS, HCI specialization. She has a car, so she might not live nearby."

Tate whistled. "At least you picked a smart one," he said. "Does she know what you do?"

I shook my head. "We never even got to last names."

"Then call Cooper," Tate said, as if it were just that simple. Actually, it could be just that simple. Cooper Sinclair was like an older brother. All the Sinclairs were. We'd grown up together, and they were the closest thing to family we had outside the Winters clan. They also ran one of the best private security companies in the US, and their main offices were based in Atlanta. If I called Cooper, or one of his brothers, they could probably find Josephine for me before lunch. They'd also give me shit about it until the day I died.

I didn't mind that. Not really. Giving and getting shit was a key part of male bonding. Growing up with brothers and male cousins, plus all the testosterone in the Sinclair family, I knew how to take shit without getting bent out of shape. Hell, even my baby sister, Charlie, could dish it out. My gut told me that finding Josephine would be worth a ribbing from Cooper and the rest of the guys. What held me back wasn't my pride. It was more about self-protection.

I didn't know Josephine as well as I'd like to, but I sensed she was not the kind of girl who would take the Winters lifestyle in stride. We were high-profile to begin with, and that was only considering the media, business, and factors outside the family. We were also interfering as hell and nosy in the extreme.

Tate and I were the most laid back in the family. I always thought that came from being so young when shit went bad. Charlie was younger than us, but as the only girl, she felt she had too much to prove to relax. I could only imagine what would happen if word got out that I was interested in a woman. Just the thought of Charlie grilling her on her intentions gave me a chill.

Remembering the look in her eyes as she'd walked into the VIP room at Mana, the wonder and the nerves, I knew I'd have to ease her into everything that came with dating a Winters. She didn't even know Tate and I owned the club. If I called in Cooper, she'd be tossed straight into the deep end. She'd already run on me once. If I wanted to keep her, I'd have to play this nice and slow.