Found (Not Quite a Billionaire Book 3) (18 page)

“Maybe you are.” Just hearing that smooth, low voice could make everything start tingling, and it was happening now. “Nah, I’d say you definitely are. Nothing I like more than talking to you in bed, except being in your bed. I’m guessing you’re still missing me, the way you’ve been teasing me. Texting me like that—now, that was naughty.”

“Could be I am. Missing you
and
naughty. Maybe you could remind me that you’re coming back.” Flirting with somebody who’ll give you not just the fun of it, but that almost-dangerous edge, too—is there anything better? Not for me.

“I’m coming back,” he said. “No worries. But I’ve got something to tide you over as well. A parcel’s arriving for you day after tomorrow. You may not want to open it in front of Koro. In fact, don’t open it at all, not until I tell you. You can ring me this time, no matter how early it is for me, because I may have to do a bit of . . . explaining. I’m going to need you awake for that.”

I did my best to keep things under control, even though I knew it was a lost cause.
Anika,
I thought, then kicked her to the curb. “A parcel, huh? Flowers aren’t enough, even though you’ve already replaced them twice? They don’t even have a chance to die before you’ve got another bunch there. Koro told me today that it smelled like ‘a bloody bordello’ in here. He says
he’s
the patient, remember? Of course, then he said in a big hurry, “Don’t tell Hemi that, though. Likely to fill my room with lilies, the way he’s going, and I’m not dead yet.”

Hemi’s rich, low laugh spiraled its slow, smoky way down my body. “Good to know. Sounds like he’s feeling better.”

“He is.” I wriggled further up and shoved the pillow more comfortably under my back. “I think that’s mostly Karen. She makes him laugh, and you should hear her putting dinner on the table and pointing out that it’s better than anything I’ve ever made. I’ve considered reminding her that I was always away from home working during those years when I cooked those inferior meals, but I hate to spoil her fun.”

“Both Koro and I have a weakness for a cheeky girl, I reckon,” he said. “So tell me about the roundabout. Having an adventure, eh.”

“That’s what Matiu said, and boy, did he laugh when I did it. I hate to confess this to you.”

“Ah. That’s always good. I’m waiting.”

“Well, if I have to tell, I have to, I guess.” I did my best to pout, although being an irresistibly sexy tease had never exactly been in my skill set. “I drove around twice before I figured it out, and then I had to drive around another time to do it. And I may have . . . squeaked a little.” That surprised a laugh out of him. “Hey. There was traffic.”

“I do love the way you squeak. What did Matiu do?”

“He
didn’t
grab the wheel. I can tell you’re waiting to hear me say that. He just got really stern, like you. Really calm. Must have been his doctor voice. He said . . .” I lowered my voice. “‘Hope. Listen to me. Indicate for your turn, check your mirror, and do it.’ It was very impressive. I was so shocked, I did it. The men in your family and their alpha tendencies.”

A second, then he asked, “What about Karen?”

“Oh, she had no problem, of course. But we will just note here that
she’s
the one Matiu’s grabbed the wheel on. More than once. She thinks she’s an expert, and she sits back there and criticizes my driving. It’s extremely annoying. You wait, she’ll do it to you, too. I’d pay money to see that. Or even better—to Charles. That’ll be an experience to witness. ‘Charles, the speed limit here is 25.’ Yeah, that’ll go over big.”

“So has Matiu been giving you your lessons? Thought that was going to be Tane.”

“It’s both of them, but Matiu has more time, so he’s been doing a little more of it.”

“Mm. Are you having fun, baby?”

“You know,” I said, “I am. Maybe that’s terrible to say, because I do miss you, and I hate not being with you, with everything you’re going through, but . . . it’s good, too. The job’s not horrible, and I can’t tell you how new that is. I’m not tense all the time, waiting to be fired, or at least to be told I’m stupid. I’m not . . . desperate, and that’s pretty great. And being with Koro, the lessons—all that’s good.” I hesitated a moment, then said, “I did something, too. A little impulsively. I hope you like it.”

“What’s that?”

My heart was beating faster. If Hemi didn’t think it was any big deal . . . and he might not. I didn’t know how a man would feel. Or more accurately, I didn’t know how
Hemi
would feel. He seemed so different from me at times, it was as if he were not just another gender, but another species. “You may think it’s stupid,” I started to say, then stopped myself mid-sentence. “Scratch that. I was just telling myself today that I wasn’t going to apologize or explain myself to everybody, and here I am doing it.”

“You could practice your new resolve on me,” he said, “since I love you. Safe territory.”

The simplicity of it took my breath away. “I could,” I finally said. “I will. Here you go. I’m sending it. Hang on.”

I took the phone from my ear, scrolled to the right app, and fifteen seconds later, heard the chime of a sent message. Then I waited.

It took at least a minute before Hemi said in a completely different tone of voice, “And you thought I might not like this.” And I breathed again.

It was a picture. Of me, to be exact. Me in the bathroom mirror. Two shots, side and front, in my underwear and a bra which was going to need replacing very soon, along with all the others. One hand framing my lower abdomen, which was still nothing like huge, but bigger than it had been ten days ago when Hemi had last seen it.

“I thought,” I said, feeling strangely shy, “that I could do it every week. As a sort of record. You could compare, and so could I. I thought it might help us feel . . . close. Because I was missing you so much today.”

“I think you’re right,” he said. “I think I love it. The only problem is, I want to get on the plane right now. That little belly . . .”

“I know.” Once again, the stupid tears were right there behind my eyes. “It’s . . . I know it’s so normal, the most natural thing in the world, but it’s happening to
me,
to us, and it feels like the first time ever. That there could be a person growing, to be able to
see
it getting bigger. To know that in a few months, we’ll be able to feel it moving inside me. Our little swimmer. And I know that my being here with that happening feels to you like I’m playing games, but it matters so much that we get it right. For both of us, and for the . . . for whoever this is. I want to do it
right.”

“I know you do.” There was no teasing in his voice now. “And so do I.”

“One way or another,” I said, “the thing with Anika is going to be over, and we can get married. I want us to be ready for that.” I hesitated, then went on, “I was . . . surprised to see that in the paper this morning. I think Koro was disappointed. You might want to talk to him. Because that was you, wasn’t it, who made it happen?”

A long beat, then he said, “It was. I told her she didn’t know what she was getting into. I want her to know that if she keeps going, she’ll be the one who hurts. I’m guessing she knows it now.”

“And you don’t feel bad about that?”

“I would have once. That’s why she did it. She thinks I’m that bloke she knew. I’m not.”

“Good,” I said.

He laughed, and just like that, the grim, ruthless tycoon was gone, the Hemi who was mine alone taking his place. “You showing me your bloodthirsty side?”

“No,” I said. “I’m showing you the side of me—the
all
of me—who believes in you.”

Another pause, and his voice wasn’t quite as smooth as usual when he said, “Then I reckon I’d better do my best to keep impressing you, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that you may have had a couple good ideas yourself.”

He wanted to move on, so I said, “You mean—the show? The changes?”

“I do. The push to change the copy for those ads—that didn’t go down a treat, and neither did the sourcing of the footwear, but we’re nearly there. I’ll ask Josh to set up a secure portal for the two of us so I can share a few things with you. I’ll have him add a folder for those photos you sent me as well, and any others you take. Save them going through email, eh, so you feel safe sharing anything you like.”

He said all that like it meant nothing, when it meant everything. My throat was tight when I said, “I’d love that. To have a safe way to send you pictures, sure. But more than that. To see what you’ve done for the show. I’d love it.”

“Do you know,” he said, “it’s nearly eerie. When I first thought up the Colors of the Earth line, in that restaurant with you in San Francisco, I thought exactly what you said. Tender and tough, hard and soft. I had the vision, but then I lost that bit. How did you come up with that?”

“I don’t know. It just popped into my mind. Maybe because I love shoes too much.”

“Wouldn’t have known it from the ones you were wearing at the start.”

“Call it an unrequited love.”

He began to talk more about the line, then, and I nearly held my breath to hear it. About his vision, and how the changes he’d set in motion had played out. About tense meetings with fear and doubt crackling in the air, and his own certainty as he’d laid down the law. He finished with, “I wouldn’t normally say any of this to anyone. Bad idea to discuss internal divisions. You end up setting one side against another, stirring the pot without even meaning to. Better to listen to all sides, decide, make it clear, and move on. The team’s only as a secure as its leader.”

“Mm,” I said. “You can talk it out with me, though, because I don’t work for you. I have no agenda except yours, and you know it. It’s almost like talking to yourself.”

“Now,” he said, “if I accept that, it means you were right to quit.”

“Well, I
was
right to quit,” I said serenely, and he laughed out loud.

“You’re tired,” he said, “and I need to get going. Remember, though—day after tomorrow, you’ll get that parcel, and you’re not to open it. Tonight was for business. Next time, we’ll focus on seeing how much I can make you miss me. I’d tell you more about that today, but I don’t think I will. You know how much I enjoy making you wait for it.”

Which was a completely unfair thing to tell a woman lying in bed alone with her heart so softened it was aching and her hormones at full alert, especially when she was already asking herself why in the world she wasn’t with you.

But then, as Hemi had once told me, he didn’t play fair.

Hemi

I rang off, but I kept my laptop open to Hope’s picture. She’d titled it
10-1/2 Weeks.

She hadn’t been trying to be sexy, and she was so sexy all the same. It was the secret smile on her face, the cant of her hip, the hand stroking over that tiny belly. She’d worn my favorite pink bra and thong for it, the ones that were trimmed with black lace. I’d taken them off her that last night, and I’d bought them for her at a time when I’d thought she was the woman I needed in my bed and nothing more. She’d let me do that, had worn them every time since, just because she loved to please me.

I got a sudden image of a whole checkerboard of photos, thirty more weeks of them. Of that belly getting bigger and bigger as our baby grew, and the idea that I’d be seeing those photos without seeing
her—
it was an absolutely physical pain, a dagger straight into my chest.

There was anger there, too, and I couldn’t pretend there wasn’t. Frustration as well. She’d told me what needed to change, I’d got it, and I was proving it. Why was she still so far away, and not even talking about coming home? She belonged with me, and we both knew it.

There was Koro, though. That was the complication. He was sounding better, his voice regaining some of its strength, but I couldn’t forget the first sight of him helpless and dazed in hospital, or the gray tinge to his skin when Matiu and I had put him to bed on that final afternoon. Hope was looking after him, and that was better than anyone else doing it, even with the whanau popping by at all hours to do their own looking after. Outside of Koro himself, there was nobody I trusted more than Hope.