The Billionaire of Bluebonnet (7 page)

He stared at her, his jaw set in an angry line.

Risa sighed. “I'm not telling you this to make you angry, Travis. I'm really not. It's just become very apparent to me that you were right and I was wrong. You don't have time in your life for a pig. You don't have time in your life for a pig-keeper, either. I've really enjoyed our time together.” Her voice grew soft. “Really, really enjoyed it. I wish I could stay longer.”

“Then stay.”

She shook her head.

“Fifty grand,” he said suddenly. “Give me a month and I'll give you fifty grand.”

Annoyance flashed through her. “Have I asked for the money, Travis? For the last time, this isn't about the money. You can keep every damn dollar that you promised me. I came here because I wanted you to love Gregory, but I mostly came here because I had a fantasy of you, and I was half in love with you the moment you walked through your grandmother's door. Being with you has been part of that fantasy, but the reality is that you don't have time for anyone.”

He said nothing.

“Well?”

“I'll pull some strings. Get you a teaching job here. We can build a school, if you want, and you can—”

She threw up her arms, cutting him off. “You're still not listening to me.”

He still stared at her as if not quite comprehending her. “Everyone has a price, Risa. I want to know yours. I want to know what it'll take to make you stay with me for a bit longer. I . . . like you in my bed.”

That was a lot for a man like Travis Jesson to admit, she knew. She went to him and very lightly placed a hand on his cheek. “You know my price, Travis.”

“I don't—”

She hated herself for saying the next part, but she had to. “I'm not like your grandmother. I can't forgive missed time.”

Travis flinched.

She continued. “Time is the only thing I want from you, Travis. I want us to be a real couple. If you want me to live here with you, I'll stay. I'll look for a teaching job in Houston. Keep your thirty grand. Keep all of it. We'll be a real couple and try this thing out. But I require time and effort. I want someone that will be with me, not someone that's with their BlackBerry.”

“Risa,” he said, leaning to kiss her hand. “I want to be with you. But you have to understand my job. I didn't get where I am today because I took a backseat on things. There are opportunities out there, and I'm not about to leave them on the table. I have a very important meeting in Japan in a week that I cannot miss.”

“I'm not asking you to quit your job for your pig nanny, Travis,” she said with a wry, sad smile. “I'm not asking you to make a choice. You are who you are. I am who I am, unfortunately, and I want the chance to be with someone who wants to be with me. It's not that I'm giving you an ultimatum. It's that we're two immovable objects. You have your work on this side, and I am on the other. The two aren't going to meet in the middle.”

“I want to be with you—”

“Then you know my price.” She picked up her suitcase and headed for the door. Every step felt like a thousand years. She wanted him to change his mind, to tell her that he'd make time for her. But he said nothing. When she got to the door, she turned back to him. “You might want to arrange to have your assistant feed Gregory twice a day. I left instructions on the refrigerator door. I don't want him to starve.”

His arms crossed and his look became stubborn. Almost furious. “I can feed a pig, Risa.”

She knew he could. The question was, would he have the time? So she didn't address it. “Can you call the car for me? My car's still back at your grandmother's.”

“I'll call it in the morning,” he said harshly. He turned to his desk and pulled out his checkbook. “So half, then? Fifteen thousand?”

Her heart hurt. “I told you I don't want the money, Travis. Keep it. Use it to hire a dog walker to take Gregory out in the mornings.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want the car.”

His jaw set stubbornly. “In the morning.”

She would not be bullied. “Very well, then. See you in the morning.” Risa went to the guest bedroom and shut the door.

* * *

Goddamn it.

Travis stared at the closed door, furious. How dare she try to force him to change his ways for her? How dare she say that what he had to offer wasn't good enough? Most women threw themselves at him, eager for his money and power.

This one turned her nose up at his money and wanted him to give up his power.

Un-fucking-believable.

Travis turned back to his computer and kept working, going through his ever-filling inbox. There was simply too much to be done before his Japan trip, and he didn't trust his subordinates enough to handle the finer details.

He worked for another ten minutes and then shut the laptop, too furious to concentrate. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping on the hardwood floors.

At his feet, Gregory danced in excited circles, his pig snout quivering. He snorted with enthusiasm, clearly thinking they were going out for a walk. “Sorry, pig,” he told it. “Not right now.”

Travis walked to that shut door, wanting to fling it open. He stared at it for a long moment. She was quiet inside. Was she weeping? Sleeping? Sad?

He hated the thought of her being sad. Fists clenched with irritation, he stalked to his bathroom and took a shower to clear his mind. Didn't work. By the time he got out of the shower, his thoughts were only more byzantine with a swirl of irritation and conflicting thoughts about Risa mixing with thoughts for the business week ahead. He moved to his dresser to pull out fresh boxers and paused at the sight of the photo album left open.

It was a picture of him with his dog back when he was a boy. He'd loved that dog. A wet droplet splatted on the photo album and he absently wiped it off of the plastic covering with his hand. The dog had followed him everywhere, wagging his tail, desperate for attention.

Just like the pig that was now his.

Almost of its own volition, his hand reached out and turned the page. There was a picture of him and his grandmother, smoking cigars. It was after he'd closed his first major deal with his own company. She'd been so proud. He turned the page and the next photo was her ninety-fifth birthday. She was smiling as she leaned over a cake dotted with an incredible number of candles, and Travis had been at her side.

The next page was a press clipping of the deal that had made him a billionaire. Annoyed, he flipped the page. More press clippings. Where were the photos? The family photos? He flipped the rest of the pages of the album and came to a stark realization.

For the last three years, there were no family photos. Only press clippings of him that his grandmother had cut out from the newspaper.

He'd been too busy to see her and so she'd had to make do with mentions of him in the newspaper.

His stomach clenched, suddenly sick.

I'm not like your grandmother. I can't forgive missed time.

Damn. That was a punch in the gut.

Travis moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it, not caring that he was dripping water. He saw a lacy scrap peeking out from under the bed and tugged it forward, surprised to see a red and black thong. When had Risa worn this for him? He couldn't recall. Sometime this week, of course, but it was a blur of business meetings and memories of making love to her before dropping off to sleep, exhausted.

He stared at the panties. Why couldn't he remember her wearing these for him?

Was he truly that absent?

The realization was an uncomfortable one. He'd been so focused on his business for the last few years that he hadn't taken the time to do anything but work. Even now, he knew if he picked up his BlackBerry, it'd be full of messages of people needing his advice, his lawyer sending over changes to the latest contract, his assistant with travel confirmations, the board of directors with more meeting invites . . .

It was suddenly exhausting to think about. He lay back in the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He'd missed out on the last few years of his grandmother's life because he'd been too busy working. He hadn't seen—or talked to—his parents in ages. He didn't know where they were in Europe. Didn't know what they were up to. He knew everything about the closest competitor in his market, but he didn't have a clue about anything in his personal life.

And Risa was trying to wake him up. Because she cared about him and wanted to be with him.

Just . . . not like this.

You know my price
, she'd said softly.

It hadn't been an ultimatum. Everyone had their price, after all. She was just stating hers. Was it one that he was willing to pay? Being with Risa would mean not being on call 24-7. It would mean no long, extended business trips. It would mean spending evenings in bed, in pleasure. Holding hands while walking in the park. Going out to dinner for the sheer enjoyment of the other person's company, not because there was a business connection to be made.

Not working over the weekend. Spending the weekend with her. Sleeping late and snuggling into bed together. Making love to her for an entire day. Feeling her soft curves under his hands for as long as he wanted, without having to be anywhere in the world but in bed with her.

He wanted that. But how to prove it?

Travis lay back in his bed and thought. And he came up with a plan, because that was what he did best.

* * *

When morning came after a long, sleepless night, Travis noticed her door was still shut firmly. Outside of it, the pig whined and danced, clearly hoping for his morning walk. Travis needed one, too, to clear his head. So he slid the pig into his harness and they went out for a brisk morning run. He tucked his BlackBerry into one of his pockets, just in case.

It was interesting, going on a run with a pig. Everyone stopped to stare at them, but Travis ignored it. Gregory seemed to enjoy the run, and for some reason, it made his own personal run less tedious this morning when he saw how much the pig was enjoying it. Maybe there was something to having a pet after all. Risa loved the silly thing. And he admitted to himself that when Gregory squealed with delight over something, it amused him.

He did have to fish him out of the park's flowering bushes, though. Apparently Gregory liked to eat the local shrubberies.

They returned back to the apartment a short time later, and the pig immediately went to the kitchen, turning in excited circles. Okay, food time. He could do this, too. He went to the fridge and pulled down the instructions, noting her careful measurements of just how much the pig should be fed.

He will always seem hungry,
Risa had written.
Pigs don't have a thalamus gland that tells them to stop eating. Just because he begs doesn't mean he should be fed! He's smart enough to know that when he begs, he gets treats.

His mouth curved into a faint smile. Clever pig.

Travis measured the pig feed and set down the bowl for Gregory to eat. He'd shower and have breakfast himself, but in a minute. To his surprise, he realized he hadn't checked his BlackBerry on his run. That wasn't like him. He pulled it out to check if his assistant had responded to his messages from last night, skipping over a few meeting invites.

Everything's in place
, she'd written back.
I've canceled the car and reserved the movie room for you all day. Breakfast should be delivered there in about a half hour, along with the flowers.

Good job
, he wrote back, realizing it was probably the first time he'd ever complimented her. Damn it. Now that Risa had pointed out how selfish he'd been over the last while, it was all he seemed to see everywhere he turned.

Well, he'd prove to her that he was more than just an obsessed workaholic. Travis pulled up his calendar and began to make a few changes.

* * *

Risa lay in the guest bed, her arms crossed, staring up at the ceiling.

Where the hell was the stupid phone call that would let her know that the car was here? It was taking forever.

She'd heard Travis leave earlier this morning, at dawn, but she'd gone right back to sleep. It had taken her forever to go to bed last night. She didn't cry into her pillow—not over a man she'd met a week ago—but she couldn't escape the intense feeling of disappointment that he'd had no time for her. And she couldn't sink the feeling in her gut that poor Gregory was going to end up neglected and lonely, the opposite of what Pearl had wanted for her beloved pet.

The phone at her bedside rang, and she rolled over to answer it. “Hello?”

“Ms. Moore? This is the concierge at the front desk. Someone is waiting in the lobby for you.”

The driver. Perfect. “Thank you. I'll be right down.”

She grabbed her suitcase and opened the door to the guest bedroom, looking around. “Travis?”

No answer.

Risa frowned. Had he gone to work? He hadn't even bothered to say good-bye to her? It just confirmed everything she thought about him—he'd never make time for a personal relationship. His business was all he needed in his life. Poor Gregory.

She hefted her suitcase and closed the door to his apartment. It had been a lovely week, she thought wistfully. Something to fuel her dreams while she moved on with the next chapter of her life. But there was no sense in dwelling on what couldn't be.

Risa headed to the elevator, and took it down to the main lobby.

When the doors opened, she stopped in surprise. Bouquets of roses lined the elevator exit on either side, and curved a path along the far end of the lobby. She walked through the rose path, wondering what the occasion was.

She paused when she saw Travis at the end of the path, standing in front of the entrance to the double doors that led to the personal movie theater in the building. He was dressed in a suit, of course, but Gregory was leashed at his side and Travis was trying (unsuccessfully) to prevent the pig from eating a fallen rose.