The Billionaire's Secret (16 page)

***

It was late Sunday night when Jon finally
arrived home, kicked off his shoes, and lay on his couch. He was
too tired to even finish the beer he had grabbed from the fridge.
It had been an extremely hectic two weeks, but they were finished.
The final submission to the FDA had been sent an hour ago. Now all
he could do was wait, and for once he wasn’t anxious about the
answer. Their results were now within the required specs, and the
consulting neurosurgeons had confirmed the heat factor had been
resolved. He was confident the FDA would provide their approval
within the next sixty days.

Perfect timing. Lizette was scheduled to
arrive on Monday, and he could actually relax a bit—not completely,
but enough so they could spend some uninterrupted time together. He
had called and left her a few messages since he and Ms. Manning had
come to terms on his sponsorship. He wasn’t shocked he hadn’t heard
back, as she also had a lot on her plate. And soon they would have
the time they needed to explore what, if anything, was truly going
on between them. He had to admit he looked forward to exploring her
in depth. The night they had spent together was the only sweet
distraction he’d allowed himself these past two weeks. And each
night his dreams were filled with fantasies he could not wait to
make reality.

Tonight, he would sleep. Tomorrow, he looked
forward to a sleepless night spent with Lizette in his arms.

What a way to start a new week. Every muscle
in Lizette’s body ached. Why did she have to be so stubborn when
the movers had informed her they were also hired to help her
unpack? If she’d had a brain in her head she would have graciously
accepted. But no, all she only been able to think of was how Jon
was controlling the situation, and he had controlled enough of her
life already. So her entire Sunday had been filled with moving
boxes until she couldn’t move another inch. All she could do was
admit it was all for nothing because he probably would never even
know she had refused the movers’ assistance.

The apartment was much larger than she’d
expected it would be. Actually, it was quite luxurious. When she’d
called Matt to inquire why she’d been given such an elegant
apartment, he’d said it was based on its convenient location near
Vinchi Medical Engineering. She couldn’t dispute that point, it was
only fifteen minutes away. That was an amazing proximity in New
York, but she was positive the rent on her apartment cost more than
her monthly paycheck. Matt informed her it was included under the
terms and conditions of the sponsorship. What should have been a
relief to hear only made her question Jon’s intentions more. Did he
think by sponsoring Another Chance he could sweep her off her feet
and back into his bed? If so, then he didn’t know her at all. She
wasn’t impressed by his power or his money. If anything, they were
what she liked least about him.

The elevator stopped on the top floor of the
Vinchi Medical Engineering building, where she was greeted by a
receptionist. “May I help you?”

“I have a nine o’clock appointment with Mr.
Vinchi. My name is Lizette Burke.”

“Yes, Ms. Burke, he is expecting you. If you
go through those double doors at the end of the hall, Matt Phillips
will be able to assist you. Please let me know if you need
anything, and welcome to Vinchi Medical Engineering.”

“Welcome to Vinchi Medical Engineering”
sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard to Lizette as she opened
the doors to find Matt waiting for her. He wasn’t at all what she’d
pictured him to be. He was about fifty-five years old, short, and
bald. No, not what she’d expected at all.

“Ms. Burke, Mr. Vinchi is expecting you.
Please go in,” he said as he pointed to the open door across from
him.

Well, here it goes
.

***

Jon was sitting as his desk with his chair
facing away from the door, but he could tell he was no longer
alone. Lizette’s sweet scent filled the room. Turning to greet her,
he had to admit he was surprised by the vision that stood before
him. He knew it was Lizette, even though she was hidden beneath a
stiff-accountant look. This was the first time he had seen her with
her long silky hair—the hair he so enjoyed tangling in his
fingers—pulled tightly up on her head. Jon wasn’t sure what women
called that style, but it looked painful to him. Every hair on her
head was in place. And her clothes—not a wrinkle anywhere. She was
wearing exactly what every accountant he dealt with wore. There
were many ways to describe those men and women, but sexy wasn’t one
of them. But no matter how hard she tried to hide the woman beneath
the clothes, she didn’t succeed as far as he was concerned. He knew
exactly what lay beneath that boring conservative attire, and he
was looking forward to seeing it again tonight. For now, though,
they were meeting about business, so her sweet distractions would
have to wait a few hours. Smiling, he said, “Lizette, welcome back
to New York. I hope you found everything to be to your liking.”

“Yes, Mr. Vinchi. Everything was fine.”

“No need to be so formal here, Lizette,
we’re all on a first-name basis here.”

“Okay . . . Jon. Mr. Phillips—I mean,
Matt—said you wanted me to bring the last two years of our
financials to review with you this morning. I believe I have
everything you will need. Is there a place I can set up my
computer?”

“Let’s go sit on the couch.” He pointed to a
large dark-brown leather sofa on the other side of the room. He
walked over, but she didn’t follow. As he watched her standing
there, he almost could see the wheels spinning in her mind. How
could he blame her? It was obvious he didn’t really want to spend
the time on the couch listening to her talk numbers anymore than
she did. “I promise, Lizette, I will behave.”
For now
.

Lizette crossed over to the couch and bent
over to pull her laptop out of her bag. Even covered in boring
business attire, the curve of her ass made him want to pull her
onto the couch and have her right there, right then. How could
someone be so sexy and tempting without even trying? Or was she
trying, and this was all part of her plan?
Hmm.

She turned quickly but didn’t give any
indication she’d noticed him checking her out from behind. A shame,
as he was sure it would have led to a much more interesting
topic.

Her computer booted up quickly, and she sat
and pulled up more Excel spreadsheets than he cared to see. But
since he was financially invested in this company for the next
twelve months, he might as well listen to what she had to say.

“Mr. Vinchi—I mean, Jon—I would like to
provide you with a high-level overview of the past twenty-four
months’ expenses. Please let me know what questions you have from
there and we can dive deeper into those specific areas.”

“I’m all yours for the day, Lizette. And
don’t worry—I’ll stop you when I have questions.”

“Great. Before we begin, I would like to
take a moment to thank you for your generous sponsorship. Ms.
Manning informed me you’ll be fully funding all expenses and
projects for the next year. After this presentation, I believe you
will see just how far your investment in the community will go and
the difference you will make in those people’s lives.”

***

Facts and figures: Lizette was in her
comfort zone. She was proud of everything Another Chance had
accomplished during the past two years. No matter what she felt
about her temporary relocation, it was clear there was no way the
company would have been able to continue if it wasn’t for Jon’s
full sponsorship. All she could do was hope her presentation
provided a clear picture of how financially lean their situation
had been, and how much more they would be able to do now that they
had Jon’s backing.

As the presentation went on, Jon
occasionally stopped her to ask questions, but they were never the
ones she expected. She’d thought he’d ask about the company’s money
and funds, but instead he only asked for more details about the
people they had helped, wanting to know how they were doing now.
This was the man who she’d been so attracted to, the one who came
to her at night in her dreams. He was a complex man, and she was no
longer sure who Jonathan Vinchi truly was. Was he really the big
corporate businessman who was always in control and didn’t stop
until he got what he wanted, no matter who it affected? Or was he
the compassionate, generous man who pulled at her heartstrings?
Based on the terms of the sponsorship, she was going to be in New
York for a year. Eventually, his true colors would be revealed.

She continued with her presentation, and
before she knew it, it was already the middle of the afternoon. She
had been up late last night unpacking and hadn’t taken time this
morning to eat, wanting to review the presentation one last time.
Thinking back, she hadn’t had anything to eat and only drank water
since yesterday afternoon. Something wasn’t right. Lizette suddenly
felt shaky and felt a warm flush spread throughout her body.
“Sorry, Jon, but would you mind if we took a short break? I need a
few minutes.”

“Not at all. Sorry time got away from us.
Looks like we worked right through lunch.”

She nodded her agreement. “Could you please
point me in the direction of the ladies’ room?”

Jon stood and pointed to the opposite side
of the room. “The washroom is right through that door. Then we can
continue this conversation over lunch.” He walked to his desk,
picked up his phone, and started giving Matt instructions.

Lizette, now alone on the couch, stood, her
legs feeling shaky, and she thought the sensation came from sitting
for so long. But as she made her way to the washroom she became
lightheaded. She stopped for a second, hoping that taking a deep
breath would help. But quickly she went from bad to worse, and the
room started spinning. She reached out a hand, trying to find
something to steady herself, but found only air. Softly, she called
out, “Jon.” Then everything went black.

Oh, how her head hurt.
Where am I?
She could hear voices but they were all muffled. Then one became
clear, calling her name, telling her to hang in there, that help
was on the way.
Help for what?
What happened?
She
struggled to remember, but the harder she tried the more her head
hurt. Answers would come later; for now, she just wanted the ache
to go away. Slowly she opened her eyes to find Jon very close,
gently stroking her cheek. “Jon,” she said softly.

Jon pulled back from her a bit, and now she
could see the concern written all over his face. “It’s okay,
Lizette, I’m not leaving you. The ambulance will be here any
second. You’re going to be okay.”

Ambulance? Everything was a blur. “What
happened?”

“You fainted.”

“Fainted?” she asked as she tried to touch
the back of her head.

“Yes, and you hit your head when you fell,”
he said.

She wanted to ask more, but just then the
EMTs rushed in and asked Jon to step aside so they could evaluate
her. Before she knew it they were shining lights in her eyes and
asking her a bunch of questions: what was her date of birth, what
day was it, what was her name. She could answer all that. Then they
asked her what had happened, and there she drew a blank. Once again
trying to recall how she ended up on the floor was a mystery to
her. Jon filled in the blanks where he could.

Someone pricked her finger and then said,
“Lizette, your blood sugar is fifty-one. Are you diabetic?”

Diabetic? “No.”

Another one was starting an IV on her. She
didn’t have the strength to argue with them.

“Here, chew these.” The EMT gave her a few
large pills. “They will help bring your blood sugar back up.”

She looked at Jon, who nodded and said, “I’m
right here.”

Lizette took the pills as directed. She
wasn’t sure how they could stop her head from hurting, but she was
willing to try anything.

“Lizette, we need to take you to the
hospital. You hit your head when you fell and, from what we’ve been
told, it sounds like you were unconscious for more than ten
minutes. We need to have you looked at. You could have suffered a
concussion.”

Still in too much of a fog to argue, she
nodded her agreement; she knew there was no way she was going to be
able to stand on her own two feet at the moment anyway. Within
minutes she was loaded onto the gurney and wheeled down the hall,
into the elevator, and then into the ambulance waiting below. She
heard the EMTs tell Jon where they were taking her and he could
meet them there. Jon’s protested response was exactly as she’d
expected, but the EMTs didn’t give in to his request to ride in the
ambulance, and the vehicle pulled away.

Once at the hospital, she spent the next
several hours being looked over by a continuous flow of doctors.
Some just asked her questions: what happened, what was the date,
what was her name. Others told her about the tests they were going
to run: blood work, X-rays, CT scans. She was positive the Queen of
England wouldn’t have received better care.

After several hours, a new doctor came in.
He introduced himself as the chief of staff. He reviewed all the
tests they had performed and their results. “Your EKG is normal,
and X-rays are fine. It seems, young lady, you passed out because
of low blood sugar. Have you experienced this before?”

“No, nothing like this before.” How long had
she gone without eating? She remembered having Japanese with Jon
last night and then going to his place, but somehow there seemed to
be something missing. What, she wasn’t sure, but something didn’t
feel right.