My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (13 page)

"Since you turned sixteen."

"Larry Davis." Julie sighed. "Broke my heart after one date. Heartache, that's all I know. But I also hold grudges and don't ever give second chances and I tend to attract assholes. I recognize that about myself. Don't know what I'm doing wrong, but you, you're driven by your career—" She broke off and gaped at Megan. "Wait a sec, did you say you quit your job?"

"Yes." She almost smiled.
Wondered when she'd realize I'd said that.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Find another one. I tried to set up interviews but nothing yet." She bit her lower lip. She hadn't meant to lie to Lucca, but she couldn't bear the thought of him thinking her a failure.
His opinion of me matters more than my parents'.

The thought gave her pause.

Julie spread out her arms. "This place is a little bigger than yours. You can get out of your lease and live with me, and I know you'll find a job sooner or later. Until then, I can keep us afloat. No biggie. I know you and your sense of pride won't want to accept charity, but if we keep a running tab, you can pay me back eventually. No interest." She wagged a finger.

For the rest of the night, they drank and talked about their asshole exes and their plans for the future, only Megan had no idea what her future would hold.

Or who would be in it.

Chapter Seventeen: Two Steps Forward

To try to keep his mind from Megan, Lucca threw himself into his work. He really should make a trip to their Spanish division soon. He preferred to make the international visits personally, although that had been when he was wild and willing to bed any woman he came across.

Not that he wasn't still wild, but there was only one woman on his mind lately.

This was so alien, this wanting to be with just one, to settle down. He had never cheated, but the idea of picking one to spend the rest of his life with… he hadn't even contemplated that before his father's stipulation.

And now that he had maybe found a woman who could see past his money, he had made a mess of things because of not being upfront about his money. Ordinary millionaire, she'd called him. Original fool was more apt. Why hadn't he been willing to take the risk and see if she'd accept who he was from the start?

He worked later than normal and opted to go home rather than eat out. The last thing he wanted to do was to run into Georgia again. He wouldn't put it past her to be stalking him.

Once home, he had his butler run to a nearby restaurant to pick him up dinner. Even places that didn't offer carry out would be willing to box up their meals for the right price.

While he waited for his supper, he opened a bottle of wine. He was just pouring himself a glass when the doorbell rang. Strange. He wasn't expecting anyone, and Francis never rang the doorbell.

Bringing his glass with him, he walked to the door and peeped through the hole. A wide grin crossed his face, but he wiped it away as he opened the door. "Megan! What a surprise. Please come in."

She didn't look around as she entered, just kept her gaze on him. In tight jeans, a white tank top that didn't quite fit her huge twins, and a faux leather jacket, she looked good. Damn good.

"Found out where you lived online since I doubt you would've ever brought me here."

While that wasn't true, her anger was justifiable. "I am more than willing to give you a tour." He smiled roguishly and held out the wine. "Would you care for a glass? I just poured this."

Her eyes widened, and she ignored the glass. "You poured it yourself?"

Lucca winced. "Yes."

She rubbed her forehead. "Yes, I'd like some wine. I'm sorry. I—"

"You shouldn't be apologizing. I'm the one who kept my identity from you."

"It's not as if you did it to hurt me. You were trying to protect yourself."

His heart sped up as she accepted the glass, her fingers brushing against his. "Exactly right. I could marry anyone and keep the company. Women…" He wrinkled his nose.

"Fall all over themselves for you?"

"For my money, more like."

She touched his arm and squeezed his bicep. On reflex, he flexed the muscle. "Or your looks."

"Or my looks," he admitted. "According to the magazines, I'm a catch. Handsome, rich, said to be good in bed…" He wasn't trying to be arrogant, but he waited for her response.

"Three for three," she admitted, a little begrudgingly. She sipped the wine. Her lips twisted into a surprised smile.

Yes, the wine was that good.

But she hadn't come over for wine. He motioned her farther into the house so he could pour himself a glass. "You'd think it would be easy for someone like me to find a woman."

"You have found women," she countered.

"Yes, but not
the
woman. I've never formed a true connection, nothing to bond us together, no…"

"Love," she finished softly.

"Money can buy a lot of things, but it can't buy that." He swirled his wine and sipped it. "Maybe I'm old fashioned for wanting to marry for more than just sex, but that is what I want."

"You could marry to keep the company and then divorce her and try to find love later," she pointed out.

"True enough, I suppose, although my father might have something in the will about how long I have to be married for, and that's a little beside the point, isn't it? Father had been so in love with Mother he never had another woman after her. He was hoping to light a fire under my ass so I'd stop dicking around with women who weren't worth anything and find a woman who could make me happy, one I loved and loved me back."

"Sounds like you're a little jaded."

"I'm not trying to stop talking about myself or turn the tables, but it seems to me that you're a little jaded too."

Her answer? To swallow more of her wine.

He grabbed the bottle and gestured for her to join him on the couch. She rubbed her hand along the leather.

Lucca started to sit beside her but then jumped back up. "Your jacket. Let me take it from you."

"I'm fine." She almost huddled into it, and the far corner of the couch. There couldn't be more distance between them.

"Ask me anything you want. I swear I'll answer truthfully. I know I ruined your trust in me, but if there's any way I can get it back, I'll do it." He enjoyed the rest of his wine too quickly, and a few drops landed on his pants. "Damn it. I'll be right back. Feel free to help yourself to more wine or to look around the place. I have nothing to hide."

Maybe getting wine on his pants was an excuse to try and recover his senses. With all of the other women, he had nothing on the line. If it didn't work out, who cared? There were more to be found.

But with Megan, he wanted to at least give them a chance at making it work for the long haul. The thought that he would screw it up terrified him. Maybe one day he could fall in love with her, and the possibility left him petrified. Maybe that was why he had been so quick to take her to bed. Even that had been to prove to himself he was man enough to deserve a real woman. It had been for him, not her.

So selfish. How could he expect her to give him a chance, let alone one day grow to love him, if he couldn't show her his true self? Did he even know who his true self was?

Quickly, he changed his clothes and sauntered back to the couch. She wasn't there. She felt comfortable enough to walk around and explore. Good.

The beginning of hope stirred in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, things would all work out.

Chapter Eighteen: One Step Back

Lucca running away to change his clothes had Megan wanting to laugh.
The rich man can't stand to be wearing soiled clothes for more than a second.
Cooking frantically for a hundred different people at a time meant her apron often looked like a battle scene.

The thought of Lucca holding a baby and being spat up on, the look on his face, did have her laughing out loud. Would Lucca want kids? She did. That she was even thinking about Lucca contemplating having one, or more, in this immaculate house was ridiculous. It could not be less baby-proof, with the expensive furniture everywhere, priceless pictures on the wall, the coat of arms standing opposite the doorway. So extravagant. Then again, if she had as much money as he had, wouldn't she spend it?
Probably. Wouldn't anyone?

Was he a philanthropist? There was so much she didn't know about him. The more she sat here and waited, the more she wanted to give him a second chance. He had been so earnest about wanting to find love, to have a relationship unlike his previous ones. Boy, could she understand that. She did not want a repeat of her exes, and while Lucca had lied, it hadn't been to hurt her, only to protect himself.

But would he lie again for that same reason?

The thought had her drinking the rest of her wine too quickly, and she had to find a restroom. After all, he had said she could walk around.

Past the living room was another room just like it. Did he call it a parlor? Wasn't that the fancy term for it? Beyond that was a massive dining room. It seemed odd to have such a large room for a small table, but he didn't need a huge one, not if the house was just for him and maybe a girlfriend.
Wife one day.

To the right, she found the kitchen. A breakfast nook. How quaint. An edible food arrangement sat on the nook, hardly touched, a card beside it.
Don't be nosy.

She couldn't help herself. The words made her skin crawl and froze away the burn the wine had nicely settled in her stomach.

"There you are. Are you hungry? My butler should be back any minute with dinner and…"

Megan slowly turned around to face him and shoved the card at him, pinning it there with a finger jabbing into his hard chest. "Do you run into every woman you want to seduce into loving you?"

"Megan, it's not what it looks like. I swear."

"Did you meet her before or after you met me?"

"Before but I don't even remember it. Christmas party. For work." His eyes had that pleading quality in them, and she shifted her gaze to his nose so she wouldn't be swayed.

"And then more recently."

"Yes. Amazing what the talk of owning a company will do," he said bitterly.

"Nothing happened between you two?"

"I swear nothing did. Honestly, Megan, you have to believe I don't just want any woman. One who can be just fine not seeing me for months until my name is linked to wealth and power is not going to be one I spend time with."

It all sounded so nice and neat and… convenient. "Why did you keep the arrangement then?"

"Why waste the food?" He held out his hands and shrugged.

"The card?" She removed her finger. The card fluttered to the ground. "Why keep that?"

He had nothing to say to that, she noticed, no quick answer, not even a slow one.

"I think… you wanted her in reserve in case we didn't work out. Desperate times and all that maybe. Or maybe for another reason, I don't know, but you kept it."

"I kept it," he said begrudgingly.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"My father brought her to the Christmas party," he said after a long silence that grated on her nerves.

"Your father picked her out for you." It all made sense. She could picture this Georgia. Gorgeous, model body, flexible in bed… smaller ass than hers, and the only way her beasts would compare was if she'd been enhanced. "She belongs in your world. I don't." She started to turn away.

He tapped her arm, halting her. "Why not?"

"I have no job, and if I don't get one soon, I'll be homeless. Butler? A mansion? Don't think I didn't see the limo. Maybe you should give her a chance."

"I don't want to," he growled. "I didn't want her at the party, and that was long before I met you. Father was wrong about her. Believe me. I can smell that type from a mile away."

"And me? What do I smell like? Because it's not roses or champagne or wine or overpriced perfume."

"You smell like fire—smoke and heat—and spices and just being around you makes me happy."

Fire? Smoke? Heat? What the hell was he talking about?

"You're babbling," she said.

"I'm drunk," he admitted. "All I know is that when you're near me, I become hungry. For—"

"Me?" She rolled her eyes.

"For more," he clarified.

Megan shook her head. "You're saying so many of the right things, but look me in the eye and tell me that you won't wake up one day and wonder if your father had seen something in this Georgia you'd overlooked. The grass is always greener. It's better to just end this now."

"Megan…"

She marched toward the front door.

"I never knew you were a coward."

Her eyes had to be flashing. She whirled around. "How dare you—"

"Had enough courage to quit your job without a backup plan but now you're desperate to find some measure of control in your life. You feel helpless after that bravery. It's left you willing to throw away a chance at happiness—"