Page 23 of Accidentally Mine

Brent

I led her into the dining room, feeling like a king with her at my side. Every man in the place admired her as we passed—she was without a doubt the most gorgeous woman there. The dress was hot as hell and didn’t even do her justice.

The server seated us at once, at a dimly lit, private table in an alcove behind the piano bar. When she sat and the waiter placed the open menu in her lap, she scanned its offerings with wide eyes, then took a sip of water.

“I’ve gone past this place a million times. Never thought I’d eat here. I feel so out of place.”

“Believe me. You fit right in.” I couldn’t stop gazing at her in the candlelight, the way her blonde hair was tousled from my hands, the pink wetness of those delicious lips I’d kissed. “I don’t understand. Your boyfriends didn’t take you out to eat?”

“Boyfriend,” she corrected, a slight flush on her cheeks. “I only ever had one. We dated over two years, when I was in college. I was young, though. And stupid.”

“And since then?”

“Since then, I haven’t dated at all,” she said, her fingers twisting her napkin. “I’ve…been living away, and kind of wrapped up in things. And like I said, I didn’t have the best relationship with him, so I’ve been wary. What about you?”

“Same. I’ve dated. Not seriously. I’ve been wrapped up too, with my business.”

The waiter came right on time, because I wasn’t interested in talking about the other things that had taken up my time as of late. I ordered a bottle of wine as I thought about how to tell her truthfully, without getting too much into the sob story that my life had been for the past couple years.

Before I could formulate a diplomatic way to tell her, she spoke up. “I suppose being a CEO of a billion-dollar company is kind of all-consuming.”

I knew CEOs who spent all their lives at the office.

That wasn’t me. Workaholic I was not. Not anymore.

She had to know that, considering I’d blown off good chunks of the day to sit with her in a café.

“Not as consuming as one would think, not anymore. I have a team of dedicated staff who keep the place running with little input from me. I owe everything to them.”

The wine came. The waiter poured it, a light pinot grigio. I knew I could have one glass before the headache started to kick in. I took a sip.

She sipped hers, seeming to savor the flavor before she said, “It’s amazing you created something you’re so passionate about, that has been so successful for you.”

“You’re passionate about your stories, no?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes, but I can’t say I’ve been as successful as you. Not even close. I have maybe a hundred dedicated readers in the world. That’s it.”

“Hey. Everyone has to start somewhere. What’s most impressive is not so much the achievement, but in putting yourself out there, Rebel.”

“I guess. I actually went to school to be an architect. But…” She looked down at her hands, clasped together in front of her.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t tell you the truth.

I’m not in school here. I grew up in Boston.

I actually dropped out of Boston College before finishing my junior year.

” She hesitated, shaking her head, and I waited, sensing I was hearing something no one else had.

“I still think of going back. I just, can’t. Not now. Maybe one day.”

Another can’t. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t go to school. But I was determined to make this night more about what we could do instead. And right now, I wanted to share a meal and just enjoy her. I didn’t care about anything else.

“Roselynn, I think you can do anything you set your mind to. But right now, you have to decide what to order.” I smiled, letting her know I wasn’t upset about her white lie.

She eyed the elegant setting before dropping her gaze to the menu. “I don’t know what to order.”

“May I?” I asked, motioning to the menu as the waiter arrived.

She nodded. “Oh. Please.”

I told the waiter that we’d share the first of the two five-course menus offered, which provided a sampling of foods, starting with Kumamoto oysters. That way, she could decide what she liked best.

“I chose the first menu for one reason and one reason only,” I said after we handed our menus to the waiter.

“Why?”

“Chocolate mousse for dessert.”

She licked her lips. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Well, we do have to make it through four other courses first.”

She groaned. “Mmmm. After that car ride, I’m more interested in what’s going to happen after dessert.” Her eyes went wide, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said that.

My cock pulsed, and I shifted in my seat, my pulse kicking up in hope. “And what’s that?”

She gave me a sly grin I hadn’t seen from her before. Wicked. My cock hardened further. “Use your imagination.”

I shifted forward, digesting that, then dropped my voice a decibel. “Don’t tease me or I’ll order the check before we’ve even had our appetizer.”

We spent the rest of the evening with our eyes locked, sharing plates of lobster, quail, foie gras, and littleneck clams that went perfectly with our quiet conversation.

The headache didn’t intrude like it usually did.

The noise of conversation at other tables didn’t bother me.

My mind didn’t race with things I might have forgotten. I felt…good. Damn good.

Two hours later, the check came, and I was far from done with the evening. And I definitely hadn’t had my fill of her.

We walked out of the Pru building, under the light of the Lord and Taylor sign.

I held her hand. She was warm and flushed and tipsy, and even more men were watching her.

She looked like a fucking star, someone whose light everyone wanted to be close enough to admire.

I wanted to stay in her glow, as long as she’d let me.

“It’s a nice night,” she said, tilting her beautiful face up to the sky. “Can we walk a little?”

I couldn’t get enough of her. I wanted to take as long as it took to commit every glorious curve and dimple on her body into my fucked-up brain. “Yeah.”

I leaned into the open car window and told the driver to take the rest of the night off, that we’d take the T if we had to, since it was barely ten and I doubted we’d be out past one when the subway shut down.

She tottered a little in her heels, and I wrapped my arm around her. She peered up at me. “Didn’t you say you live in this neighborhood?”

“Beacon Hill,” I said as she pressed against me. “Overlooking the Common, a few blocks away.”

“La-di-da,” she laughed, giving me a flirty little smile. “That’s pretty hoity-toity of you.”

I shrugged. “My father used to tell me that if you find a neighborhood you like, you buy the best house you can afford in it. By the time I was looking, Key Technologies had really taken off, and I could afford a lot.”

“Really? So you were a millionaire by the time you were, what? Twenty-five?”

I shook my head, raised my thumb to the sky in a motion for her to up that.

“Twenty-eight? How old are you now?”

“Thirty.” I hugged her tighter against me. “I first patented the key when I was twenty-two. It took off right away, so that’s when I made my first million. I made my first billion when I was twenty-five.”

I took another step before I realized she’d stopped walking. When I reached back and took her hand, drawing her closer to me, she moaned, “That’s a little bit intimidating.”

I laughed. How anyone could be so cute and sexy at the same time was beyond me. “It’s just money.”

“Yeah. Which happens to be the thing that makes the world go round.”

“There are other things that do that just as well,” I pointed out.

“Anyway, the house. I knew the neighborhood. My dad used to take me to the Public Gardens every spring, and we’d ride the boats in the lagoon.

He would read me Make Way for Ducklings when I was a kid on a park bench in the sun.

I found the property, and I thought it was perfect, bought my house four years ago. My master suite overlooks the gardens.”

“My mother read that book to me too, when I was a kid. With all those ducklings. What were their names? Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack,” she mused as I took hold of her hand and we crossed Boylston. “Can I see?”

I shot her a curious look. “The gardens or my master suite?”

Her hand slipped under my jacket, her fingers raking up my back. She pressed her breast against my side. “I can see the gardens anytime.”

I turned in the middle of the deserted brick sidewalk on Arlington Street and raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re more than welcome to see my master suite any time you like,” I challenged. “Now?”

Her eyes were intent with desire. “Yes, now.”

I took her cheek in my hand. “If I take you there, I’ll want you to stay the night.”

She pressed her lips into my palm, her warm breath lighting a fire in me. “Is there a problem with that?”

Hell. No problem. I’d only been preparing myself to take it slow with her. I didn’t know that once we’d gotten started, we’d be on the fast-track.

“You’re tipsy. I want you to make this decision clear headed.”

She straightened, her face growing serious. “This is all I’ve been able to think about, and since I’m leaving soon, I want to have this…one night.”

It was like a punch in the gut but also the greatest gift I could have received. One night. If that was all we were going to get, I’d take it and do my best to hold onto the memory.

Quiet now, we walked hand in hand toward Beacon Street, things continued to play in my head. She was leaving. She wanted this. And she didn’t want to wait.

Who was I to argue with that?

The Public Gardens were dark when we walked past them, silent, the trees looming on the other side of the road.

When we reached my four-story brownstone, its brick Revival style inviting in the muted light, we climbed the short staircase, and she nodded with approval as I dug my keys from my pocket.

As we went inside, an excitement was building inside me I hadn’t felt in a long time.

We climbed up all four floors as I gave her the grand tour. She commented and nodded, not seeming impressed with any of it. I intended to save the master suite for last, so I brought her up to the roof. When I turned on the lights, she looked around and laughed.

“Oh, my god. You have a pool on your roof?”

I scratched at the back of my neck. “Uh. It’s actually a really big hot tub.” I motioned her toward the edge of the roof, and we peered down into the darkness of the gardens. “You can’t see it now because it’s dark, but I’m right across the street from the Make Way for Ducklings sculpture.”

She shook her head in awe. “I’m just speechless. I mean. Wow. You really didn’t need to show me all this to impress me. I’m already impressed.”

“I’m not showing this to impress you,” I said. “It makes no difference to me what you think of where I live.”

She looked confused, possibly a little hurt. “Okay. That’s good, I guess.”

“Roselynn,” I rasped out, dragging my hands down her bare arms. “I don’t bring women here.

I’m showing you all this because I want you to feel at home, and to know me better.

Before I make love to you tonight. But you’re killing me, and I don’t know if I can wait until we make it to the master suite. So which will it be? The bed, or here?”

Before she could answer, I pulled her flush against me and sank my mouth down upon her sweet, waiting lips.