The Billionaire's Con (11 page)

She propped herself up against the pillows and sat back to enjoy the impromptu striptease he provided as he shed himself of his clothes like a man on a mission. “So.” She swallowed at the sight of the heavy bulge beneath his navy briefs, and had to begin again. “So, if getting me naked wasn’t in your plans for tonight, what was?”

He looked up from where he searched through the pocket of his jeans to give her a leering grin. “Oh, getting you naked was always part of the plan.” He came toward her to sit at her hip on the side of the bed. “I just planned for that to wait until after I gave you this.” He held out his hand.

She leaned forward to see what rested on his palm, then traced a fingertip over the fat, silver heart. As the previous ones had, his latest addition to her bracelet shot a rush of giddy warmth through her. “It’s beautiful, Trevor.”

When she would have plucked it from his palm, he closed his fingers around the trinket. Her confused gaze flew up to meet his.

“Do you know what this is?”

She nodded. “It’s a heart. I love it, Trevor.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His hand remained fisted. “But it’s not just a heart.”

“It’s not?”

His fingers unfurled. “Look at it, Meggy.” He waited until she had. “It looks solid and it’s built strong, but it can be broken.”

She met his intense gaze and held her breath.

“I’m offering you my heart,” he continued. “I’m hoping you’ll take it with the knowledge that you have the power to crush it.”

Though she wanted to laugh and jump into his arms, she didn’t. She couldn’t, not with her future happiness looming before her. Not when he was looking so serious. Besides, she needed to be sure she understood what he was saying. She took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Trevor,” she said quietly, and pressed her fingers to the slow smile that spread on his lips to stop him from responding. “I never expected to find a man who would make me feel the way you do. I’ll take your heart, but only if you’ll take mine as well. I want your love, Trevor. I’ll settle for nothing less.”

The tiny heart sparkled in the lamplight as he held out his open hand. “Fairy girl, I love you more than I ever knew a man could love a woman.”

With a grin, she plucked the tiny trinket from his palm and did what she’d wanted to do. She shrieked with laughter and jumped, naked, into his arms.

Chapter Thirteen

Meggy woke to the soft lapping of waves against the hull of Christos’ Chariot. Eyes closed, she stretched like a sultry cat, basking in the warmth of Trevor’s bed. Her eyes popped open upon recalling where she was. She sat up straight, only to find the bunk beside her empty.

Early morning light illuminated the charm bracelet that was all she wore. She stretched out her bare arm to admire it. The fat heart had joined his other gifts sometime during the night, when he’d insisted he wanted her in nothing but her charms. He’d grinned as he made the request, with its double entendre, and pleased them both by spending the next few hours sampling those charms.

Pure joy burst in her heart. She flopped back against the pillow, pulling the sheet and comforter up over her head to indulge in uncontrollable glee by wriggling and squealing beneath the covers like a little girl on Christmas morning. She was still grinning at her foolishness when she poked her head out to see if her little celebration had alerted Trevor that she was awake. The room was still empty.

Trevor Bryce loved her. She shook her head where it lay, smiling at the ceiling. He hadn’t asked her to marry him, but he would. And when he did, she’d say yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! Man, she really was a goner.

The stray thought had her sitting up straight. “I need to call Cara!” Her voice was loud in the silence of the room.

Tangled in the covers, her gaze searched the room for the clutch purse she’d carried the night before. She spotted it on the chair in the corner. At the same moment, she swung her legs over the side of the bed to go collect it and her cell phone, the door opened.

“You’re awake.” Trevor crossed the room to the bed, handing her the coffee mug he carried. He covered her mouth with his in a sweet morning greeting.

“Good morning.” She smiled when he stepped away to pick up her overnight bag.

Already dressed himself, he returned to the bed with the jeans and sweater she’d packed for this morning. He held them out.

Without thought, she took them. “Wouldn’t you like to come back to bed for a little while?” She batted her eyelashes and exaggerated her best sultry look, then spoiled it by grinning.

Though his eyes darkened, he didn’t smile. “More than you know. Unfortunately, we don’t have time. I’ll leave you to dress. Meet me on deck when you’re ready.” He turned without another word.

She scrambled to her knees. “Trevor?”

He turned back to her.

Although it had to be her imagination, she thought his smile looked forced.

“It’ll be all right, Meggy. I’ll see you on deck.” The door to the cabin closed behind him with a quiet snick.

It’ll be all right? What would be all right? What was wrong? She climbed from the bunk and began pulling on her clothes. After yanking a brush through her hair, she searched through her bag for her toothbrush and quickly brushed her teeth in the basin. Without another thought, she grabbed her clutch from the chair and headed up on deck.

Trevor stood at the rail. He turned when she stepped out into the chilly morning air. His hair ruffled in the breeze.

She took a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked in worn jeans and a faded Harvard sweatshirt. Harvard? Had he gone to Harvard?

She decided right then and there that she was sitting him down and asking him all those pertinent questions she’d neglected to ask because she’d been so busy floating in the clouds over the way he made her feel. But first she meant to find out what he’d meant by that “everything will be all right” comment.

The question vanished from her mind as she noted their surroundings. Expecting an array of masts, and the bustling activity of Charlestown marina, she was bewildered at the sight of a serenely quiet stretch of sandy beach off to the right and the rocky cliff beyond. To the left, a lush lawn, beginning to yellow with the season sloped inland, and her gaze landed on the sprawling edifice perched at the top of the rise. A resort?

Disoriented, she accepted the hand Trevor held out to her and followed when he stepped from the boat to the dock. “Where are we? How did we get here?”

“We set sail after you fell asleep last night.” His hand on her elbow, he led her down the dock to the crushed shell path leading up to the resort. “There’s someone I need you to meet.”

“Who?” Though wary, she matched his step along the path.

“My grandmother.”

She skidded to a halt and tugged her arm free of his grasp. “Your grandmother? Right now? Trevor, I can’t meet your grandmother. I look horrible!” She hadn’t even taken the time to wash her face, and she still wore the dregs of last night’s makeup. Her gaze swung beyond him to the house she’d assumed was a resort, and she groaned.

He grabbed her hand and began tugging her up the hill. “You look beautiful.” His gaze ran over her face. “Gorgeous. Besides, Grandmother knows we’re here. She’s waiting for us. She’ll come charging down here herself if we don’t make an appearance in the parlor in two minutes.”

“Just let me...”

“It’ll be fine, Meggy,” he repeated, tugging her toward a set of gleaming French doors at the top of the shelled pathway.

He was springing her on his grandmother without any warning, and he thought everything would be fine? Oh, yeah, there were some things Trevor Bryce was going to learn about
her
as well. She’d be all too happy to enlighten him...if she didn’t belt him first.

The doors opened onto a long, wide hallway. Trevor didn’t hesitate. He continued to pull her toward some unknown point.

She took no notice of their surroundings, too busy rubbing stiff fingers at the skin under her eyes. Had her mascara smudged while she’d slept? After his odd comment, she hadn’t even glanced in a mirror, so she had no idea.

Forget belting him, she was going to
kill
him.

All too soon he was stepping to the side, and using his hand on the small of her back, he gave her a gentle nudge that sent her through a doorway into a truly impressive room.

Decorated in classic, New England farmhouse, the walls were glossy white, the floor a stunning, wide plank. Vintage, leaden-glass windows let in the morning light in rippling beams, illuminating the inviting seating area with its sleek, feminine furniture.

Beside a working fireplace that took up a good portion of the far wall, a small, expensively dressed woman with a shock of styled, white hair sat in an upholstered chair. She rose when Meggy stepped into the room.

Grandmother Bryce, she mused. The woman was staring at her so intently, Meggy was afraid she had more to worry about than just a little smudged makeup. As stealthily as she could manage, she slid her fingers to the zipper of her jeans, and nearly laughed in relief to find it closed properly.

“Welcome home, Mr. Christos,” a feminine voice spoke from somewhere at Meggy’s back. She started, not having noticed there was anyone else in the room. Her head jerked in the direction of the voice to find a young maid nodding to Trevor before slipping out of the room. She shut the door behind her.

A glance around the room revealed only one Mr., and that was Trevor. Mr. Christos? Why would the woman call Trevor by the wrong name?

Christos? Christos’ Chariot? Uneasiness tickled at her spine. When she’d asked him about the name of his boat, he’d explained it was a family name. He hadn’t said it was
his
name. Her gaze tangled with his. “Mr.
Christos
?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer.

The door opened to admit yet another woman, and Meggy’s eyes widened in horrified disbelief. Elizabeth Ashford’s housekeeper stared back, looking as confused as Meggy felt. Forget uneasiness, she was going to throw up! She spun on her heel. Her gaze collided with the crystal blue gaze of the older woman whom she realized with sickening dread must be none other than her biological great-grandmother.

“Why don’t we all sit down?”

Meggy slapped at the hand Trevor held out. She stumbled several feet away.
Oh, God.

“Megan.” Elizabeth Ashford’s quiet voice drew her attention. “My grandson is right. We should all—”

“Grandson?” Meggy yelped. Her gaze darted from Trevor to Elizabeth and back again. An odd buzzing echoed in her ears and the light in the room seemed to fade even as she put her hand to her head to counteract the tipping sensation.

Right there in Elizabeth Ashford’s exquisite parlor, Meggy Calhoun did something she’d never done in her life. She fainted.

Chapter Fourteen

Meggy opened her eyes and stared at a high, intricately carved ceiling. Trevor’s worried face, swimming into view, made her slam her eyelids shut on a groan. She hadn’t been dreaming after all. She was living a nightmare.

“She’s coming around.”

Meggy’s eyes popped open. Twisting her head back and around, she searched for the owner of the voice. Inches above hers, she found the smiling face of the bulky bodyguard she’d met several weeks ago. “If it isn’t the mountainous menace.”

The bodyguard chuckled. He laid a cool cloth across her brow. “Nice to see you again too.”

“Give her some room, Brody,” Trevor barked.

The demand reminded her he was sitting on the couch, his hip pressed against hers. Oh, God. He’d lied about his name, and considering just
whose
couch they were on, she doubted she’d be pleased with his explanation of why.

He was Elizabeth Ashford’s grandson. What did that make her, his niece?

Her head was too mushy to think. All she knew for certain was that Trevor Bryce had suddenly become Trevor Christos, and she was going to throw up on Elizabeth Ashford’s highly polished, wooden floor. While she was at it, she’d aim for
Uncle
Trevor’s shoes.

She shoved at him, swinging her legs to the floor and sitting up. The cool cloth plopped to her lap. A hand to her chest, shoving her back down, kept her from standing.

Trevor pointed a finger in her face. “Just sit there and be quiet.”

“
You
be quiet.” She slapped away his hand. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not the boss of me.”

“I said, sit there and be quiet.” Trevor propped his hands onto his hips. “I’m not having you faint on me again.”

“Bite me, Mr.
Christos
.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

Brody chuckled behind her, but Trevor simply raised a sardonic brow.

“Where’s my purse?” she demanded on a sudden gust of breath.

“It’s right beside you on the couch.” The strong voice of Elizabeth Ashford came from the chair beside her.

Meggy had no idea what to say to the woman, so she ignored her, scrambling to pull her cell phone from the clutch bag.

“Who are you calling?”

Ignoring Trevor wasn’t as easy, not when she wanted to scratch out his eyes.

“Nine-one-one.” She released the lock on the phone. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but kidnapping and holding people against their will is a crime.” She glanced around the room. “Even for people like you.”