Wanted: Billionaire's Wife Read online

  “I’ll text you the address. I trust going into the city isn’t a problem for you?” His tone made it clear it was a rhetorical question.

  San Francisco was almost an hour each way on Caltrain, depending on the train schedules, and her exhausted brain was already looking forward to putting on pajamas and binging on reality TV with her roommate, Mai. She gave him her best, if forced, smile. “No. Not a problem.”

  “Good. I have a commitment beforehand, so I’ll meet you there.” His attention returned to his tablet and he became absorbed in whatever he was reading. She fled before the tiger could realize the prey had left the room.

  Three

  Danica wasn’t quite sure what to expect from her dinner with Luke, but this establishment wasn’t it. Surely white tablecloths and waiters wearing black tie were more his style? She glanced at her new phone and reread the email. This was the address. She looked up at the dingy neon sign that appeared as if it hadn’t been cleaned since first put into place decades ago. That was the name of the restaurant. Squaring her shoulders, she looked past the layers of graffiti decorating the outside walls and stepped inside.

  The taqueria’s interior was reminiscent of an ancient cafeteria, with laminate white tables and red plastic chairs lined up on the scuffed black-and-white-checkerboard linoleum floor. A long line of people stood in front of a high counter, orders barked in rapid Spanish and English. The smell of freshly made tortillas and the sound of knives chopping tomatoes and peppers reminded her stomach how long it had been since she ate a protein bar at her desk.

  At least she wouldn’t be underdressed as she’d feared. Her cream polyester blouse and navy skirt would allow her to blend right into the disparate crowd. She stood off to the side of the front entrance to wait for Luke, her gaze wandering over the restaurant. The wide range of patrons, from teenagers to executives, made it a prime opportunity for people watching. She smiled as a young mother wrangled her toddler by offering him torn pieces of tortilla. But her attention was arrested by a tall, powerfully built man waiting in line to order, his well-worn jeans molded to the tight, muscular curves of his rear end.

  Just then, the man turned and waved at her. She quickly glanced away, ashamed to be caught ogling.

  “Danica,” he called, “over here.”

  It took her a moment to realize the perfect male rear draped in vintage Levi’s belonged to her boss.

  She swallowed. Who knew he had been hiding that under his usual khakis? And she had to admit his front view was just as nice as the back. A dark blue shirt matched his eyes despite the tendency of the overhead fluorescent lights to turn every color to a greenish yellow. His hair was swept back and damp, a testament to a recent shower. As if to confirm her suspicions, when she got into line with him she caught of whiff of soap along with his unique scent.

  “There you are,” he said. “Do you know what you want?” He pointed to the large menu board over their heads. “They’re famous for their burritos. But if you want something else, go for it.” He flashed his killer smile at her, and her stomach turned several flips.

  “A burrito sounds fine,” she said, after trying to read the board and failing because the words wouldn’t stick in her brain. Not with Luke’s nearness occupying all the other senses. “Whatever you suggest. But easy on the hot sauce. Nonexistent easy.”

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Is eating here okay? We could go somewhere else if this isn’t to your taste.” His tone implied not enjoying Mexican food was incomprehensible, like still believing in the tooth fairy.

  She shook her head. “I like to try new foods. I just have a New England palate, that’s all.”

  “Anything else I should know? Vegetarian? Food sensitivities? Anaphylactic shock caused by peanuts?”

  She laughed. He grinned back at her, his expression more relaxed than she had ever seen it. “Peanuts? Just what is in this burrito? No, no other restrictions,” she said.

  He nodded and began a conversation with the man behind the counter in rapid, fluid Spanish. Luke accepted two long-necked Mexican beers with one hand and used the other to guide her to a nearby table.

  She sat down in a red plastic chair. It was just a business dinner with her boss. Something she and Johanna used to do on a regular basis. Only Johanna never made her pulse sing an aria just by touching her elbow.

  She cleared her throat. “What’s our number? I’ll fetch the food.”

  “Don’t have to,” Luke said. He pushed one of the beers in front of her and then took a deep swallow from his. “Enrique will bring the food to us.”

  She looked around. No one else was receiving table service. All the other patrons went to the counter to bring back trays packed high with plastic baskets filled with foil-wrapped food and tortilla chips. “Another perk of being the CEO of Ruby Hawk?”

  He frowned. “Because I’m CEO? No. But because of Ruby Hawk?” He used his beer bottle to indicate a boisterous group of teenage boys, joking with each other as they dug into their food. Each one wore a bright gold basketball jersey, with a small red bird emblazoned on the front. They reminded her of her brother. “You could say that. We sponsor the league, while Enrique lets this team eat here on game days. Enrique got the worse bargain.”

  She smiled. Feeding an active teenage boy was something her family knew well. Or at least they used to. “I bet. Was the league your previous commitment?”

  “How did you know?”

  She indicated his damp hair. “I doubt a business meeting would require shampoo after.” A vision of him standing under a shower jet, water cascading off that flawless rear end hidden under his jeans, steam rising off the smooth biceps peeking out from the sleeves of his T-shirt, nearly caused her to choke on her beer. She put the bottle down and ducked under the table to rummage in her tote bag.

  Once she was sure the color in her face had returned to normal, she resurfaced, a file folder in her hand. “So,” she said, attempting to sound brisk and professional, “as I said earlier, you were right. I hadn’t looked outside the box. These candidates—” she slid the folder over to him “—should be more to your specifications.”

  He pushed the folder away. “Maybe. But I never discuss business while hungry. It leads to poor decision-making. Speaking of, here comes our food.” The man who took their order placed a tray on their table, carrying on another conversation in Spanish with Luke that ended with both men laughing and shaking hands. When he left, Luke turned back to Danica. “Dig in.”

  * * *

  Luke sat back in his chair. The stress that caused his shoulders to be in a perpetual knot since his meeting with Nestor was currently at bay, thanks to coaching a hard-fought basketball game that helped focus his mind outside his company. And, he had to admit: he liked watching Danica’s reactions.

  She glanced around the taqueria, smiling at the other patrons. He noticed it lingered the longest on the youth basketball team, her expression somewhat wistful, before she turned her attention to her food. He was about to ask her why when she let out a small groan.

  “This burrito? Is amazing.” She took another bite. The look on her face was pure pleasure. He wondered what else would cause that expression to appear and found himself shifting in his seat.

  “It’s even better with salsa,” he warned, taking his own bite of the cheese-beans-and-rice-filled concoction.

  “No way,” she said with a sigh of contentment, and took a long drink from her beer. His gaze fixated on her mouth, her plump lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle. When she swallowed, it caused an answering pull in his groin. Good thing she couldn’t see under the table.

  She caught his gaze with hers. Her eyes were more than just green, he noticed. Flecks of gold rimmed her pupils, while a band of forest green encircled her irises. What if he were to reach across the table, cover her luscious mouth with his, see if he could make those eyes darken to emerald...
r />   She tore her gaze away, snapping the connection. The haze enveloping him dissipated. He sat back in his chair and stirred his salsa with a tortilla chip. Analyze the situation. Don’t let it control you, he admonished himself.

  He was having a physiological reaction to an attractive woman. It was understandable. His last relationship, if it could be called that, had ended three months ago and the quest to find new capital for Ruby Hawk had taken over his time and concentration since then. He liked sex and he missed having it.

  But it wouldn’t be with Danica. Yes, she had arresting eyes as well as tantalizing curves under her clothes that begged to be explored. And her brain was pretty damn appealing too. She was smart and perceptive, with a fast wit he enjoyed. He respected the way she stood up for her work in his office. And he was glad she accepted his invitation to dinner. They could have easily talked in the office the following morning. But he didn’t want to wait to hear her insights, watch her gaze sharpen as she arrived at a new conclusion.

  Still, she was his recruiter. For his wife, damn it. An affair with his consultant would not be a sensible prelude to a marriage. For all that he resented the situation Nestor had put him in, it did bring up a point Luke needed to think about sooner rather than later for maximum benefit. What good was creating a legacy if one didn’t have offspring to carry it on? But unlike his parents and their multiple trips down the aisle, his marriage would be based on intellectual compatibility, similar upbringings and mutually agreed-upon goals. Should they come to an agreed-upon parting of the ways, it would be because common sense and rational prudence demanded it.

  He popped the tortilla chip into his mouth. It made a satisfying crunch.

  He still wanted to kiss Danica though.

  She cleared her throat, a rosy glow high on her cheekbones, before placing the file folder in front of him once more. “So. Now that we’re no longer hungry, can we discuss my work?”

  “Fine.” He opened the folder and ran his gaze down the list of fifteen names before closing it and handing it back to her. “No.”

  “What?” she sputtered. “I did what you asked. None of the women work in tech, and they meet your education and work-experience requirements. Yet you barely looked at it.”

  “I invited you here so you could have the correct input for your job. This list precedes our dinner. Therefore, it’s inherently flawed,” he pointed out with impeccable logic.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Let’s start over and pretend this is an actual executive search. Why is this position now open? What is the business rationale?” When he hesitated, she gave him a quick smile. “Confidential, remember? I signed an NDA.”

  It still smarted to know he’d miscalculated so poorly, but Danica’s judgment-free gaze soothed some of the sting. He cleared his throat. “Nestor and Irene Stavros... The closest word is blackmail.”

  She blinked at him. Her pen didn’t move. “Of all the things I expected to hear, that didn’t make the top one thousand.”

  “Irene and I...” Used each other for sex when no one else was around? Were friends with only one benefit? It sounded crass even to think.

  “Had a fling,” Danica supplied. When he raised an eyebrow, the spots of color returned to her cheeks. “I did a thorough internet search on you. For work purposes only,” she hastened to add.

  “Had a fling,” he agreed. It was close enough. “It started in college. It was off and on after that. However, when I started Ruby Hawk, I called it off for good.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She gave him a stern look. It made her appear only more delectable. “I thought the purpose of this meeting was to give me the necessary input.”

  “Irene is very competitive. So am I. It’s what drew us together. We enjoyed one-upping one another. Taking turns on top. In and out of the...classroom.”

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I see,” she murmured, bending her head over her pad.

  “But when I discovered she wanted to extend our relationship—and competition—to Ruby Hawk, that was enough for me.”

  “Let me guess. If you avoid making decisions while hungry, then business and pleasure don’t mix.”

  “Hunger is a chemical reaction in the brain. So is sex. As a rule, I avoid mind-altering stimulants in business.” And he needed to keep that thought front and center. This was a business meeting. Not a prelude to wrapping her legs around him and evoking more of those moans.

  Her gaze landed on his beer. He picked it up and took a swallow. “Alcohol is a social lubricant that puts many people at ease. I know my tolerance, so I’m able to observe the common niceties.”

  “Of course,” she deadpanned. “Please, go on. You broke it off with Irene.”

  “And that was that. Until I sought growth opportunities for the company.”

  She frowned. “I’m not following.”

  “Ruby Hawk needs additional investment if we want to meet our benchmarks.”

  “I thought you were successful.”

  “We are. Very much so. But to fully reach our potential, we need to hire new staff, invest in new equipment. I’ve spent the last year researching investors or potential mergers. Then I received a call from Irene’s father, Nestor.” He frowned at his beer. He wished his tolerance weren’t so high. It would be nice to have the edges filed off the jagged memory. “Ruby Hawk developed a revolutionary way to apply biofeedback technology to consumer entertainment. The Stavros Group is seeking to increase its global domination in the video-game industry. Incorporating our patents into their games would give players a whole new way to experience virtual worlds, while our R&D engineers would put them miles ahead of the competition. It’s a slam dunk, businesswise.”

  Her eyes narrowed to a suspicious squint. “If it’s a slam dunk and her father came to you, why is Irene blackmailing you?”

  How to explain the twisted game his family and Irene’s had played for decades? “I said blackmail was the closest word. It’s not the most accurate.”

  Danica put her pen down. “I can’t help if you aren’t straight with me.”

  “This isn’t just about me and Irene. It goes back at least a generation, maybe more. It’s not a secret my mother is a Durham.”

  Her face was blank. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “The Durhams were one of the first families to make their fortune in San Francisco during the gold rush. They helped rebuild the city after the 1906 earthquake. For a profit, of course. But by the time my mother was born, the Durham fortune was gone.”

  “Then why do the websites make a big deal about—” she waved a hand in the air “—y’know.”

  “My money?”

  She nodded, shrugging her shoulders in an apology.

  “My great-grandfather on my father’s side. He founded a chain of department stores. The chain failed. He also owned the land under the stores, and that was valuable. Very valuable.”

  “Got it. Where does Irene come in?”

  He briefly looked up at the ceiling. Nestor’s trap still prickled with the sting of ten thousand red-hot pins. “My mother was engaged to Nestor Stavros. She broke it off with Nestor the night before the wedding and ran away with my father. See, Nestor hadn’t made his money yet, but my father stood to inherit millions. However, he wasn’t invited to join the right country clubs. She restored the Durham bank account and he got to play golf where he wanted.”

  Danica’s mouth had been hanging slightly open. She closed it with a snap.

  “Irene and I knew the family history.” He laughed. There was no amusement in it. “It was probably what initially attracted us to each other. And Nestor didn’t seem to care. I even interned for him when I was an undergrad at Stanford. When he approached me about acquiring Ruby Hawk, it seemed like the rational answer to both our businesses’ nee
ds.”

  “But it wasn’t,” Danica said softly.

  His mouth twisted. “No. He wants to take my company away from me. Like my father took my mother away from him.”

  It hurt to say the words out loud. He’d worked so hard to distance himself from the toxicity that surrounded him growing up, the constant stream of new stepparents and stepsiblings appearing and disappearing. He threw himself into writing code, the static language reassuring even as he manipulated it to do new things. To have control of his legacy be threatened thanks to a marriage that barely survived his birth... He took a deep breath and returned his focus to his companion.

  Danica pursed her lips into a kissable heart shape. “Wait. Did he say those exact words? Out loud? Because if the deal makes as much sense for both companies as you say it does, how can he justify that to his board of directors?” She launched into a respectable Australian accent. “Oi, I’m acquiring a company because I was jilted thirty years ago. Good on me?”

  He took another swig of beer to wash down the memory of the meeting with Nestor, the anger burning hotter than any salsa could. “Funny you say that. Nestor said his board of directors insisted on a morals clause in the deal. If I don’t meet the board’s standards within sixty days, then either the Stavros Group can pull out of the deal or I will be removed from the company. My reputation for, as Nestor put it, ‘loving and leaving’ means I’m too unstable, too incapable of commitment for the Stavros Group to bring me onboard.”

  “Unsteady?” Her gaze widened in disbelief. “Luke Dalek?”

  He toasted her with his beer for using his nickname. “When I protested, he brought in Irene. She backed him up, listing the times I supposedly used her and then walked away. She failed to mention our relationship, such as it was, had been mutual, including the breakups.”

  Danica squinted at him. “That sounds like she was upset you ended it. Are you sure this is about your mother’s relationship with Nestor? Or is it really about you and Irene?”

  His gut twisted. He dismissed it. He knew what he knew. “I’m positive this is retaliation for the past. But I’m not giving up Ruby Hawk. I’m running it, and that’s nonnegotiable.”