An Heir For The Billionaire

His cryptic words perplexed her. “You mean you didn’t make other friends? But you were always with the popular crowd, piling into each other’s cars after school and leaving dances or football games together to go someplace more exciting. Or at least that’s always how I imagined it.”

Reid shrugged slightly. “I passed the time with them. That’s all.”

Things weren’t as they appeared back when they’d been in high school? Her heart turned over with a squish. “Sounds like you were a recluse in training, even then.”

If things weren’t as they appeared back then, what’s to say the same wasn’t true now?

His expression darkened. “In a way. I’ve never had much luck connecting with people.”

“Except me.”

Bold. But she didn’t take it back. They’d been dancing around each other and she wanted to get on with the evening, whatever that entailed.

Their gazes met and he watched her as he sipped his wine, neither confirming nor denying the statement.

Go bold or go home. It was her new mantra, one she wanted to embrace all at once.

“Is that why you invited me to dinner?” she asked with a small smile. “Because you’re lonely?”

* * *

“There’s a difference between being lonely and desiring to be alone,” Reid countered.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, now does it?”

Nora was so close, Reid could easily count the individual strands of hair—honey wheat, warm sand, a few shoots of platinum—draped over her shoulder. He suspected it would be cool to the touch if he slid a strand through his fingers.

Dinner had been a mistake.

He’d wrongly thought that he and Nora would catch up, talk a bit about the past, that it would be an innocent opportunity to reminisce about an easier time. Before his world had crashed around his feet. He’d craved that with blinding necessity.

Instead, he’d spent the ten minutes she’d been in his penthouse trying desperately to keep his hands occupied so he didn’t pull her into his arms to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. To see exactly what was under that black dress that showcased a body he hadn’t remembered being so difficult to ignore.

You didn’t seduce an old friend the moment she crossed your threshold. It was uncivilized and smacked of the kind of thing a man with his reputation would do. He’d done his share of perpetuating the myths surrounding his wickedness, mostly because it amused him.

Nora deserved better.

The problem was he had no interest in eating. At all. He’d developed an intense fixation with the hollow between Nora’s breasts, which were scarcely contained by the bits of fabric that composed her dress.

You didn’t stare at an old friend’s rack, no matter how clearly she was inviting you to.

There were probably some other rules he should be reciting to himself right about now, but hell if he could remember what they were.

It had been too long since he’d had a woman in his bed; that was the problem. Nora Winchester O’Malley shouldn’t be the one inciting him to break that fast. If he wanted to make the evening about catching up with an old friend, that was in his power to do.

“You’re right,” he allowed with a nod. “I didn’t answer the question. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to thank you for being a good friend to me. The scales were unbalanced.”

“Oh.” Disappointment shadowed her gaze but she blinked and it was gone. “So dinner was motivated by the need to say thank you. For both of us, it seems.”

“It seems.”

That should have dispelled the sensual, tight awareness between them. That had been his intent. But she smiled and it lit up her face, inviting him in, warming up the places inside that had been cold since the plane crash that had changed everything.

“I feel properly thanked. Do you?” she asked.

“For what?” he nearly growled as he fought to stop himself from yanking her into his arms.

“For the food, silly.” Her hands fisted on her hips. “That’s the whole reason I asked you to dinner, remember?”

Yes, he did. They were two old friends. Nothing more. He had to remember that her labeling it a date might not mean the same thing to her as it did to him.

“Everyone has been properly thanked.” He drained his wineglass and scouted for the bottle. The bite of the aged red centered him again. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Depends on what you’ve got on the menu.”

His gaze collided with hers and yes, she’d meant that exactly the way it sounded. Her smile slipped away as they stared at each other, evaluating, measuring, seeking. Perhaps he’d been going about this evening all wrong and the best course of action was to let their sizzling attraction explode.

But he couldn’t help but think that if that happened, he’d miss out on the very thing he’d craved—friendship.

Four (#ulink_b664cfad-a851-5044-9069-7f9f309d4c37)

Somehow, Reid dialed back his crushing desire and escorted Nora into the dining room. Maybe eating would take the edge off well enough to figure out what he wanted from this evening. And how to get it.

Since the servants had the night off, he played the proper host and served the gazpacho his chef had prepared earlier that day.

“This looks amazing, Reid,” Nora commented and dug in.

A woman with a healthy appetite. Reid watched her eat out of the corner of his eye, which wasn’t hard since she was sitting kitty-corner to him at the long teakwood table that he’d picked up on a trip to Bangalore.

The hard part was reminding his body that they’d moved on to dinner. It didn’t seem to have gotten the message. Friendship or seduction? He had to pick a direction. Soon.

“I trust it’s sufficient?” he asked without a trace of irony as Nora spooned the last bite into her candy-pink mouth. Not only had she actually eaten, she’d done it without mussing her lipstick.

That was talent. Of course, now his gaze couldn’t seem to unfasten from her mouth as she nodded enthusiastically.

“So great. I’m jealous of your private chef.” She sighed dramatically. “I wish I had one. I have to cook for myself, which I don’t mind. But some days, it sure would be nice to pass that off to someone else.”

“Why don’t you hire someone?” he suggested. “It’s truly worth it in the end to have control over the fat and sodium content of what goes into your body.”

“When did you become a health nut?”

“When I realized I wasn’t going to live forever and that every bad thing I put in my mouth would speed me on my way to the grave.”

It was a throwaway comment that any man in his thirties might make, but he actually meant it. When you spent a lot of time alone, you needed a hobby. His was his health. He read as many articles and opinion pieces about longevity as he could, tailoring his workouts and eating habits around tried-and-true practices. At one point, he’d even hired a personal dietician but fired him soon after Reid had realized he knew more than the “professional.”

Staying healthy was a small tribute to his late mother and sister. They’d had their lives cut short, so Reid had decided he’d live as long as he could. And he wanted to be in the best shape possible for that.

“Good point. I wish it was as simple as you make it sound.” She smiled wistfully. “But my bank account doesn’t allow for things like private chefs.”