Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) (17 page)

BOOK: Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3)
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G
rayson
was
the Woman Whisperer. There was no other explanation for why Chloe was driving through the sun-dappled vineyards of Napa on the way to a place she’d sworn she’d never return to.

“This isn’t the frickin’ Daytona, Gray,” she snapped.

He shot her a quick glance, then reached over and took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. He was dressed casually today in a white linen shirt, jeans, and loafers. Aviator sunglasses shielded his pretty eyes from view, but looked sexy with his tan and stubbly jaw. He had his window down, and the wind played with the shortened strands of his hair.

The haircut she’d given him had turned out as uneven as her bangs. And yet he hadn’t said one word of complaint—probably because he was partly to blame for the uneven strands. The entire time she’d been cutting his hair, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. In turn, she’d completely lost her focus. But she had no problem focusing now as they drew closer and closer to Casa Selena. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on high alert.

“You okay?” he asked.

She suddenly realized that she had his hand in a death grip. She released it and smoothed out her black dress. “Of course I’m okay. I’m not the one driving like a maniac.”

He glanced down at the speedometer. “I’m going four miles under the speed limit.”

“Oh.” She looked away, feeling like a complete idiot. “I guess these expensive sports cars just make you feel like you’re going faster.”

Instead of laughing at her ridiculous statement, he took her hand again and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “We don’t have to go, you know? We can just take a leisurely drive and head back to San Francisco without ever stopping.”

A part of her wanted to jump on the plan, but the other part knew that if she didn’t face her father now, she never would. And Grayson was right. She wasn’t an insecure, frightened teenager. She was an independent, strong woman who, instead of running from her past, needed to face it.

“No, we’re going to Casa Selena.” She glanced at him. “And cut the reverse psychology crap.”

He lowered her hand, and a quirky smile curved his lips. “That obvious, huh?”

She rolled her eyes before she looked out the window.

The grape leaves had started turning gold and red, and in their straight diagonal rows they resembled one of her grandmother’s fall afghans thrown over the rolling hills. They looked exactly as they had looked the morning she’d run away. It seemed like a lifetime ago and, at the same time, only yesterday. Before her mind could travel back to bad memories, a ringing cut through the classical song playing on the radio. Grayson quickly answered, sounding all business.

“Beaumont.”

The voice that came through the speakers wasn’t businesslike at all. “Gar-a-son, you have been a very naughty boy.”

Chloe didn’t know what ticked her off more—the annoying way the woman said his name or the fact that Grayson’s face turned a bright, guilty red…like he had been a very naughty boy.

He shot a quick glance over at Chloe. “Look, this is a bad time, Natalia. Could I call you back?”

“No, Gar-a-son, you may not call me back. It is time to stop with this cat-and-mouse game and finally reveal our true feelings for each other.”

Chloe crossed her arms and glared at Grayson. “Yes, by all means. I’d love to hear what your true feelings are.”

“Who is that?” Natalia’s voice no longer purred. “Is that another woman—”

Grayson pushed the button on his steering wheel and cut the voice off. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “So what were we talking about?”

Chloe lifted an eyebrow. “We weren’t talking.”

“No?” He looked around. “I thought we were talking about what a gorgeous day it is.”

Chloe had never been the jealous type, but the swell of anger felt a lot like a green-eyed monster. Why she had thought she was the only woman in Grayson’s life, she didn’t know. He was a Beaumont, after all. Every woman with a television or access to a shopping mall or the Internet was in love with him. Why should she think that she was the only one having sex with him?

“If you don’t mind, Gar-a-son,” she said in the worst Russian accent ever, “I’d like you to stop the car so I can get out.”

He glanced over. “Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe. She means nothing to me.”

“Did you paint her?” The blush on his cheeks deepened, and Chloe’s own cheeks flamed. But not with guilt. Without another word she lifted the handle and opened the door while they were still moving.

“Shit!” Grayson quickly slowed to the side of the road and grabbed her arm. “Would you stop overreacting and listen to me for a second? There is nothing going on between me and Natalia.”

Chloe pulled her arm away. “Then explain the kiss in the elevator. And we both know what happens when you paint women naked.”

“That’s only happened with you.”

She snorted. “Right. And you expect me to believe that?”

Grayson studied her for a moment before he released his breath. He leaned his head back on the leather seat. “You’re right. It does seem a little far-fetched. But it’s the truth. I’ve never had sex with a model before you.” He stared out the windshield as his face grew even redder. “In fact, I’ve never had sex with anyone before you.”

It took her a moment to process his words. “You mean you were a…virgin?”

His Adam’s apple slid up and down in a swallow that was just as endearing as the blush on his cheeks. “Yes.”

Just like that the green-eyed monster shriveled up, to be replaced by a buoyant feeling that left Chloe speechless.

“Yeah,” Grayson said. “I get it. It’s weird. Especially since I’m a Beaumont. People just assume I go around having sex with every girl I meet. After all, that’s what my father did. And while Deacon and Nash were selective, they didn’t hold on to their virginity much past puberty.”

Chloe finally found her voice. “So why did you?”

He continued to stare straight ahead. “I’m not sure. When I was younger, I was just scared to death of women—something that comes from growing up around all males. But in high school, I got over my fear. I started dating Mary Jane Fuller, who had snuck more than one boy into her bedroom after her parents went to sleep. Unfortunately, when she stripped for me, I was so enraptured by her body that I grabbed a pencil and notebook from her nightstand and started sketching. She didn’t seem to mind. But once I finished, she was sound asleep. So I left my drawing and slipped out the window.”

“And the other women who modeled for you? Why didn’t you…?”

“Because then my paintings wouldn’t be art. They’d just be cheap paintings of women I’d used.”

“So am I just a woman you used?”

He turned to look at her, his eyes sincere. “No. You’re special, Chloe. As much as I wanted to keep away from you, I couldn’t.”

At that moment, with the sun shining through the golden leaves overhead and the vineyards glowing red, Chloe fell head over heels in love. And the wonderful, consuming feeling was nothing like what she’d felt for Zac. This feeling was as pure and honest as Grayson.

Unfortunately, she could never let him know how she felt. He deserved someone just as wholesome and pure. Someone who didn’t have Chloe’s sordid past. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t honored to be his first. Or that she wasn’t going to keep him for just a little while longer.

She sent him a smile. “You’re pretty special yourself.”

He leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, nothing compared to the ones he gave her at night when they were tucked between his sheets, but the tenderness of his lips touched her much more deeply.

He put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road while she snuggled down in the seat and smiled with contentment.

But when they turned off on the road to Casa Selena, all the contentment drained right out of her. She had never experienced a panic attack before, but now she knew exactly what one felt like. As the beautiful stone house and winery came into view, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and her heart started beating so rapidly that it felt like it was about to jump from her chest.

She must’ve made some sound because Grayson glanced over and quickly read her panic. He took her hand in his much warmer one as he pulled into the visitors’ parking lot. He cut the engine and then turned to her.

“Breathe, Chloe,” he instructed in a soothing voice. “That’s right, baby. Just take one deep breath…good…now release it slowly and take another…perfect…you’ve got this.” He drew circles with his thumb on the inside of her wrist. Just that simple touch caused the frozen fear to thaw and her breathing to regulate. He waited a few minutes before he spoke. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I just want to get it over with.”

He released her and quickly got out, coming around to open her door. When she stepped out, he drew her into his arms and whispered against her ear, “I’ll be right there beside you, and any time you want to leave, all you have to do is say the word.”

Unable to speak around her fear, she let him take her hand and walk her down the path. The garden was as beautiful and well tended as she remembered. The beauty of the flowers her grandmother had planted and her grandfather had lovingly taken care of since his wife’s death calmed her just as much as the tight grip of Grayson’s hand. When they got to the fork in the path, she was able to take the lead. “This way.”

When she was a child, the front door of her home had always looked so huge. Gavin and Cain had liked to tease her with stories about its once belonging to a child-eating giant who would one day come back to get it. But as she stood in front of the solid oak, it didn’t look as big as she remembered. Still, it took a moment for her to get up the courage to press the doorbell. Grayson squeezed her hand just as the door was opened.

Chloe didn’t recognize the Hispanic woman who stood there.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, “but this is the main house. The tasting room is in the other direction.” She sent an apologetic smile to Chloe before she started to close the door.

Chloe stepped closer. “Is Davis Cameron here?”

The woman stopped closing the door and studied her more intently. “I know you.” Her face brightened. “You are his daughter, Selena. The one in all the pictures.” She clapped her hands to her ample breasts. “Praise the saints. I’ve been praying for your return. Maybe your papa can be happy now.”

Tears formed in Chloe’s eyes, and she tried to keep her voice from quavering. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s in the tank room, but perhaps I should call—”

“No need to call,” she said. “I know the way.”

The tank room was located behind the tasting room. It was an airy room with high, barnlike ceilings that housed huge stainless steel tanks. The tanks held the juice from the grapes after they had been harvested, crushed, and pressed. Being held in the temperature-controlled tanks was the first stage of fermentation, before the wine was placed in oak barrels in the cellar for the second stage.

Chloe had never cared for the tank room. With the sun shining in the high windows and reflecting off the stainless steel, it had always seemed too bright and industrial for her tastes. Even now she shielded her eyes with her hand as she and Grayson stepped inside. A young man in a cable-knit sweater stood by one of the tanks, examining the gauges. When he noticed them, he approached. It wasn’t until he got closer that she recognized her cousin. Cain had been a skinny, gangly kid when last she saw him. He and his brother had spent a few weeks every summer in Napa, but it was Cain who had fallen in love with the winery. She was glad he had returned to help her father.

“I’m sorry, but this area isn’t open to visitors…” Cain paused, and his eyes widened. “Lena?” In a blink he picked her up and swirled her around. “I can’t believe it. I thought you weren’t ever coming back.” He set her on her feet and gave her a thorough once-over. “What happened to your hair?”

“I could ask the same about you,” she teased as she ruffled his close-cut hair. “When you left for college, your hair was to your shoulders.”

He ran a hand through the mussed strands. “I guess six years—” He paused, and his expression darkened. “Six years, Lena. Do you know how worried everyone has been? In fact, I should take you over my knee and paddle your butt for the hell you’ve put us through.”

Grayson stepped up and placed an arm around her waist. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Cain turned to him. “Who are you?”

Before fists could fly, Chloe quickly stepped between them and made the introductions. “Cain, this is Grayson Beaumont. He drove me out from San Francisco.”

Cain’s attention returned to her. “So that’s where you’ve been. The private detective Uncle Davis hired said as much, and I should’ve believed him. You always hid right next to base when we played hide-and-seek so you could tag before the seeker.” His eyebrows lifted. “Now the question is, why didn’t you tag home earlier?”

She would’ve answered if the door at the far end of the tank room hadn’t opened and her father hadn’t walked in. Like her, he shielded his eyes with a hand. And she knew she had only a few seconds before his eyes adjusted and he saw her.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said. “For now, could you show Grayson around while I talk to…Davis?”

Cain stared at her for a moment before he released an exasperated huff. “You always did have me wrapped around your little finger.” He sent her a pointed look. “But then you’re explaining why you left without a word, followed by me giving you a major ass-chewing.” The words held no threat when he pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” He motioned for Grayson to follow him. “Come on, Beaumont, I’ll teach you about wine.”

Grayson’s hand tightened on her waist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“I’m a big girl. I guess it’s time I started acting like one.” She noticed the uneven strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead and brushed them back. “I need to even these out.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I’ll look forward to it.” He brushed a kiss over her lips before he followed Cain out the door.

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