TheBillionairesPilot Read online

  “May have?” He got to his feet amid the pounding in his skull. “Did you really think I was going to take advantage of you?” Shit, that she would think that made him angrier than her throwing him to the floor. He’d never take advantage of a woman who wasn’t willing to be his partner, whether it was for vanilla sex or his preferred darker flavor.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He’d had enough for the night. Turning away from her, he headed for the bed. When the room spun, he cursed under his breath and grabbed for the nearest wall. Instead, his hand landed on Cassie’s arm as she moved in to support him with her other arm around his waist.

  “Oh, God. I’m really sorry. I never meant to give you a concussion.” Her tone sounded truly remorseful, and her eyes seemed to plead for his forgiveness.

  “Only to teach me a lesson,” he finished for her.

  “Maybe.” She walked with him to the bed. “I did warn you about my hand-to-hand combat training.”

  “Yes, I recall you mentioned self-defense.” Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the bed, his anger nearly overshadowing the headache stabbing through his temples.

  She grabbed the sides of his head, and he hated to admit it, but he flinched.

  “I want to check your pupils,” she said, a slight smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

  “How do they look, doc?” Sarcasm thickened his words.

  “Fine. Do you see any spots or have blurry vision?”

  “Not anymore. Other than the hammering inside my skull, I’m perfectly great.”

  “Good.” Her gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth. Her body seemed to sway closer to his, and he wondered if she was going to kiss him.

  She had to be the most contrary woman he knew—knocking him out one minute and wanting to kiss him the next. She changed lanes faster than any driver he’d met on the track, and he was pissed at himself that she still intrigued him. He must have knocked several screws lose when his head bounced off the floor.

  Dropping her hands from the sides of his head, she stepped back. “I’ll get you some aspirin for your headache.”

  When she disappeared into the bathroom, he lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes. What the hell had happened? How had she gone from hot and heavy, to cold and deadly so quickly?

  “Here. Take these.” She held out a glass of water and two tablets.

  He tossed them back and winced as pain shot through his brain at the sudden movement. He set the glass on the bedside table and watched her pick up the blanket and pillow from the sitting room floor.

  “What are you doing?” he snarled, royally pissed the night had turned into a colossal fuck-up.

  She stuck the bedding back in the armoire. “I need to monitor you tonight, in case I gave you a concussion.”

  “So, you’ll sleep with me now that you’ve knocked me nearly unconscious?” He was getting whiplash from her sudden starts and stops.

  She nodded as she returned to the bedroom. “Do you think you’ll ever accept my apology?”

  He stared at her, wanting to stay mad on principle, but the look of regret in her eyes was too powerful. His anger crumbled under the force of her sincere remorse. “Yeah, I will.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’ll go change quickly in the bathroom. Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine.” He stood and unbuttoned his pants.

  Her eyes widened as she watched him undo his zipper.

  “Did you change your mind again?” he prodded her.

  She blinked and glanced up to meet his eyes. “What?”

  “Did you want to get naked with me now?” he asked churlishly.

  “No, no.” She quickly shook her head and darted into the bathroom.

  Evan tossed his clothes on the nearby chair and eased back into bed. His fucking head hurt like hell, but it wasn’t quite enough to distract from his sexual frustration. Especially not when he thought about how delectable Cassie would look when she came out of the bathroom in that fucking sexy nightie.

  He flicked off the light on the bedside table and closed his eyes. Maybe the fates would smile down on him, and he would be asleep before she got in bed.

  Ten minutes later, no such luck. He was fully aware of her slipping out of the bathroom and across the room. The large bed barely shifted with her slight weight when she got in on her side, but he felt her slide closer to him.

  “Evan?” she asked softly.

  He feigned sleep.

  “Evan?” She placed her small, cool hand on his bare shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Mmph. Are you going to be waking me every hour all night long?” he muttered.

  “Let me see your eyes one more time. Then I’ll decide.”

  “I’m fine,” he answered curtly.

  “Would you rather see a doctor?”

  “No.” He opened his eyes and tried to glare at her. It was a mistake. Agreeing to see a doctor probably would have been a better idea because seeing her breasts so soft and so close as she leaned over him made him ache to touch her.

  Her breath caught, and he could see her pulse fluttering in her throat. “Uh, yeah. Your eyes look great…um, fine. Yeah, I mean no. I’m not waking you up every hour. Good night.” She quickly scooted to the far side of the mattress, out of his reach.

  “Good night,” came out of his throat, sounding like a growl.

  She switched off her light and settled under the blankets with her back to him.

  The only sound in the room was her soft breathing, which he was determined to ignore.

  “Evan?” she whispered.

  He blew out an exasperated breath. “Yeah?”

  “You’d let me know if you needed to see a doctor, right?” Her quiet voice reached out to him through the darkness.

  “Yeah, Cassie. I’d let you know. I’ll see you in the morning.” He hoped he’d ended any further discussion of his injury. All this fuss over bumping his head because this little woman had thrown him to the floor embarrassed the hell out of him. There was no fucking way he wanted to admit what happened to anyone, not even a doctor.

  “Sleep well.”

  “I’ll try,” he mumbled under his breath. Then he stared at the numbers on the alarm clock for several hours while listening to the soft sounds Cassie made in her sleep.

  At least one of them slept well.

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you sure you won’t extend your trip a few days?” Esmé asked Cassie, as the four of them sat at the patio table set with their breakfast on their final morning. Esmé waved her hand at the lush exotic gardens around them. “What better place could you find for enjoying your new engagement?”

  Cassie drew in a deep breath, enjoying the salty air fragranced with the tropical flowers. It certainly was the perfect place to enjoy a romantic vacation if she really were to take one.

  “Thank you for your wonderful offer,” she replied without glancing to her right at Evan, who’d been strangely quiet and courteous to her all morning.

  She was embarrassed about her knee-jerk reaction, tossing Evan to the floor last night. She knew he wasn’t anything like Trent. Evan may push and try to negotiate better terms, but he’d never force himself on her or any woman. Not that Trent had had to use force to get her into his bed, but he had manipulated her then discarded her after he’d got his fill of what he’d wanted. She’d been so naïve to believe he would want to keep her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s my fault we can’t stay,” Evan added. “I have to get back to New York and get the details of our new partnership in motion.” He nodded across the table at Xavier.

  “I appreciate your personal attention,” Xavier said. “Some young men new to business are too quick to delegate. They haven’t learned the importance of minding their interests. Much like how a husband must tend closely to his wife.”

  The words didn’t sound too bad. They were remarkably similar to how a good Dom wou
ld describe caring for his sub. But the older man’s tone was full of his male chauvinism, and Cassie couldn’t wait to get away from him. Her tongue was swollen from having bitten it so many times this weekend, as she’d worked to keep her opinions to herself.

  Moreover, Xavier wasn’t a Dom, even though Cassie couldn’t quite figure out how she knew that, especially considering she’d done a shitty job picking out a Dom last time. But, if a good Dom had spoken those words to Cassie, she’d be on her knees at his feet in a second. The problem was she couldn’t trust her ability to know a good one from a bad one.

  Esmé rested her hand over Xavier’s on the table and leaned towards him. “Enough work talk. It’s the last few hours of their engagement weekend.” She turned to Cassie. “Would you and Evan like to take our boat out for a quick sail before you leave the island? You should enjoy this beautiful day.”

  Cassie cast a questioning look at Evan. Maybe this was how she could apologize for overreacting last night. If Evan enjoyed sailing, then she was willing to swallow her tendency to get seasick, in order to have the last memory of their time together on the island be a positive one. That would be better than this awkwardness between them.

  “Would you like to go sailing?” he asked her.

  She tried to read his expression, but his emotions seemed closed off. His dark eyes revealed nothing of what he was thinking, and he continued with the polite smile that had been glued to his face all morning. It was starting to creep her out.

  Deciding to take the first step towards making amends, she said, “That would be nice.” Then she thought of a complication. “Do you know how to sail?”

  Esmé’s laughter drew Cassie’s glance. “Our captain will take care of you. You can sit back and relax.”

  Cassie’s cheeks warmed at her blunder. “That would be—” The ring of her phone in her sundress pocket interrupted her. “I’m sorry. As a helicopter pilot used to being on call, it’s hard for me to remember to leave this behind.” She fumbled to get the phone out to silence the chiming.

  “You’re a helicopter pilot?” Xavier raised a brow, and Cassie worried she might have blown her cover as Evan’s fiancée. She certainly didn’t have the typical occupation for a woman of Evan and Xavier’s social circle.

  Evan smiled easily. “Yes, the best I’ve ever flown with.”

  As Cassie turned off the sound on her phone, she glanced at the caller ID. Her heartbeat stuttered at the sight of her aunt’s phone number. Cassie only spoke to her a few times a year for holidays and birthdays. Her aunt would never call unless something had happened to Cassie’s dad.

  Pushing back her chair, she excused herself. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” She walked to the edge of the patio, overlooking the sandy beach. The waves rolling in mimicked the waves of panic in her chest as she fumbled to swipe her finger across the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Cassie. It’s Aunt Marge.” Forty-plus years of smoking gave her voice a permanent hoarseness. “I’m at Bay Area with your dad.”

  Cassie’s palms started sweating at the mention of the heart hospital, and she nearly lost her grip on the phone. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, the doctor says he’ll be fine. He came into the emergency room because he had some heart palpitations.” Aunt Marge’s tone sounded reassuring, but the words gave Cassie chills. She couldn’t stand the thought of her father’s health failing.

  “Oh, God, no.” She did some figuring of flight times in her head. “I can get there by tonight.”

  “No, honey. He just needs to get some rest and take a new medication,” Aunt Marge insisted. “Really, the doctor said he’d be fine. They’re sending him home this afternoon.”

  Cassie heard her father’s deep voice grumbling in the background.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t call her, Joe,” Aunt Marge addressed Cassie’s father. Then she spoke in the phone again. “I just called you to update you on his situation. You really don’t need to come to Texas.”

  The threat of losing her father swamped Cassie with a longing to see him, to wrap her arms around him and hold on tight. It was stronger than any rational thoughts or her aunt’s reassuring words.

  “Please, tell him I’m coming.”

  * * * *

  From his seat at the breakfast table, Evan kept an eye on Cassie while keeping an ear open as Xavier talked about the highlights of his sailing yacht.

  Evan could only see Cassie’s profile, but it was enough for him to tell her face had grown alarmingly pale as her eyes widened. Then she turned her back completely to the breakfast table and tried to covertly wipe a tear from her cheek.

  His chair screeched along the stone patio as he stood. “Excuse me for a moment. I think my fiancée may be getting some distressing news.”

  Xavier and his wife’s sympathetic noises followed Evan as he tried not to rush too fast to Cassie’s side. He struggled between wanting to give her privacy and his need to hold her, to ease her hurt.

  By the time he reached her side, she’d disconnected the call, but she kept her back to the table and their hosts.

  “Cassie?” he asked softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  She wiped another tear from her cheek, and the last of his lingering anger from the previous night’s debacle dissolved at the sight of her pain.

  He squeezed her shoulder gently. “What’s wrong?”

  She sniffed quietly, and he gave her the handkerchief from his pants pocket. She stared at it strangely for a moment before wiping her nose. “Thanks.”

  “Who was on the phone?” He decided on the direct route.

  She turned her blue eyes up to him. “My aunt. My dad’s in the hospital.”

  “Is he okay?” He thought about how close she said she’d been to her dad. Hearing he was in the hospital had to be rough for her.

  She nodded. “Aunt Marge said he would be, but I’d like to see for myself.”

  “No problem. We’ll stop on our way back to New York.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone to give the airplane pilot directions to file a new flight plan.

  “We’ll stop in Texas?” Shaking her head, she placed her hand over his phone. “No, that’s more than a little out of the way. I’ll just take a commercial flight, and you can go directly to New York. I promise I’ll be back to work by Tues—”

  “No,” he cut her off, and she flinched, making his gut twist. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh when she was so vulnerable.

  He glanced over his shoulder then continued in a softer tone. “What I mean is you’re my fiancée. I’ll go with you, and if your father is well enough, perhaps we can share our good news with him.”

  Her face went another shade paler.

  He reached out to grip her elbow when she looked a little wobbly. “Or,” he quickly amended, “we can hold off with our good news until he’s strong enough to celebrate with us.”

  “Right, our good news,” she repeated woodenly, sounding about as pleased with the arrangement as he was at the moment.

  What the hell had he been thinking when he’d proposed this ridiculous engagement? How could Xavier actually be convinced by it? Evan and Cassie had to be the most ill-suited couple, and their acting couldn’t be that good.

  Tugging lightly on her arm, he said, “Come on, let’s go pack and get out of here.”

  He couldn’t wait to get back on his home turf and get some perspective on this situation with his fake fiancée.

  * * * *

  “If your dad was Navy, why’d you choose Army?” Evan asked Cassie after the airplane had reached cruising altitude, trying to get her mind off of her worry about her father’s health condition.

  She looked at him, her eyebrows slightly raised. “I knew since I was five I wanted to fly helicopters, and the Army has a much greater demand for pilots.”

  “What’s the look for?” he asked.

  A tiny smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “I’m surprised you remembered my dad was Navy.”<
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  “You talked about growing up in the Navy at our first dinner. Did you think I wasn’t listening?” he asked, getting a little annoyed that she would think so little of him.

  She shook her head. “I’m just worried about my dad.”

  Evan wanted to grab her hand and give her a reassuring squeeze, but he didn’t know how she’d respond. Ever since the fiasco in the bedroom last night, she’d been acting friendly and considerate towards him, but he couldn’t predict what would change her attitude. It was going to make this sham engagement even more difficult if he had to watch his every step with her. It was a strange new territory for him to tread, and he didn’t like it at all.

  Deciding to keep his hands to himself, he returned to his original topic. “Did choosing Army over Navy cause problems between you and your dad?”

  “Just the fact I enlisted caused conflict.” Sadness tinged her words. “He wanted me to stay out of the services altogether and go to college like most young women. That was the tipping point of our relationship.” She stared at her lap as she smoothed her palms over her skirt.

  Evan wished he could see her expressive eyes. He didn’t know how far he should take this conversation, but he was genuinely curious about her. He’d never known any women who’d enlisted. She was a perplexing mix of strength and vulnerability.

  “You fought with him because he wanted you to get an education?” he asked.

  Glancing up at him, she said, “No, it wasn’t about the value of a higher education. He thought…he thought I should act more like a girl, even though he’d always seemed proud of me when I kept up with the boys.”

  Evan could picture Cassie running with a pack of boys, climbing trees and shooting a BB gun at tin cans. “Sounds like your father redefined his standards and switched his expectations of you.”

  She nodded and her eyes clouded over. “He did, and his hypocrisy hurt badly. After my mother died, he raised me in his shadow, but as I got older, he wanted me to change my entire being to fit a more feminine role.”

  “Wasn’t he proud of you for serving your country?”

  “He was scared for me to serve my country.” She paused. “After 9/11 happened, it was obvious we were going to war. He knew from firsthand experience he didn’t want me anywhere near it, even though I’d been telling him for years I was planning to enlist so I could learn to fly.”