Billionaire Unknown: The Billionaire's Obsession ~ Blake Page 11

  Okay. That explained Blake’s roundabout answers. “So the CIA knew about PRO?”

  “Not for a while. PRO was something Marcus ran independent from the government. He knew they wouldn’t officially support what he was doing. Hell, he didn’t even want to tell me because I was a senator and he didn’t like the conflict of interests it might cause.”

  “And did it?”

  He nodded. “A little. But I supported what Marcus was doing. He saved lives, so I didn’t give a shit if the government officially supported it or not. As long as they didn’t get in his way, I didn’t say anything.”

  “You aided and abetted him,” I said in a hushed tone. “You helped him.”

  “Officially, no. Unofficially, I did.” He shot me a shit-eating grin.

  His mischievous smile made my heart skip several beats as I looked into his warm, gray eyes, a gaze so different from Marcus’s. The twins might support each other, but they were so completely different, and I saw the young man who I’d cared about so much years ago in Blake’s long, fixed stare.

  He’d always been warm and sweet, but now that package was in the persona of a powerful man, and it made him even more inviting. “I can’t believe you never found a nice girl and got married,” I blurted out without thinking.

  “I found a nice girl a long time ago. She ran away and dumped me,” he said in a deep, sincere voice.

  I knew he was talking about me, and I could feel my damn face flame red. “Stupid girl.”

  “Actually, she was brilliant. I heard she turned into a genius architect who designs extraordinary buildings and gives a lot of her time to building and supporting homeless shelters.”

  “If I was brilliant, I never would have lost you.” My whisper was barely audible, but Blake heard it.

  “You never lost me, Harper. I never forgot you.” He tucked a wayward strand of hair gently behind my ear.

  “I never forgot you, either,” I answered quietly. “And believe me, I tried.”

  “Stop trying,” he grumbled.

  I laughed because I couldn’t help myself. “Believe me, I’ve given up.”

  He shot me a disbelieving look. “You’re not planning on running away again when all this is over?”

  I didn’t know exactly what I planned, but I knew forgetting Blake was impossible. “No. I stopped running away from everything that scared me a long time ago.”

  “Jesus, Harper.” He leaned toward me, close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips. “Why didn’t I just go track you down?”

  “Maybe for the same reason I never answered my phone. I was scared back then, Blake. I didn’t want to be with a man who couldn’t stay with just one woman.”

  “I’m not that man.”

  My heart tripped in response to his sincere vow. I believed him, because from the moment I’d been with Blake twelve years ago, I’d probably known deep down inside that I’d never get over him. “I hated myself for giving my virginity to a player.”

  “You didn’t,” he reminded me.

  God, I still cared so much about Blake that my heart ached to touch him, but I also knew I could never have a serious relationship with him. I could steal every moment I could get while we were together, or I could run away, which wasn’t an option. My running days were over.

  I didn’t want the heartbreaking pain of losing him again, yet I knew I wasn’t going to resist taking every moment of pleasure that I could in his company.

  Unable to stop myself, I threaded my fingers in his hair and pulled his head down to kiss him, my body aching for something it hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  Blake instantly took control of the embrace, pressing his powerful body against me until I was under him, his forceful, dominant persuasion taking over as he pinned my body beneath him while he was still kissing me like he couldn’t get enough.

  I sighed into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip as he came up air, wanting him to feel every bit of the same all-consuming passion he wrung from me.

  One moment, all I could feel was Blake, and the next…he was gone.

  Blake

  Moving away from a very needy, lusty Harper was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done.

  Still, I had forced myself away from the woman I wanted more than I’d ever wanted anything or anyone in my entire life, and moved across the room. I was sitting on the corner of the desk, my fists clenched and my gaze averted from her tempting figure sprawled out on the small sofa of my office.

  It can’t happen like this. I can’t fuck her when she’s vulnerable.

  And dammit, I did want to strip her naked and take her on the desk, on the floor, up against the wall…it didn’t fucking matter where or how it happened. As long as it was hot, fast, and hard.

  I needed to claim the woman I’d waited the last twelve years to be with again.

  Maybe I hadn’t admitted it to myself consciously, but something buried deep inside me knew that nobody except Harper would ever be the woman I wanted.

  Had I come close to fucking other women? Hell, yeah.

  Had I gone through with it? Hell, no.

  Using another female wouldn’t have been a damn bit different from getting myself off, which I did pretty damn often.

  But Harper had ruined me that Christmas Eve so long ago. The way I’d felt when I was with her was different from anything I’d ever experienced, and I’d never felt that way again.

  Sure, I’d had mad crushes on girls before Harper. She hadn’t been my first, but she’d certainly been my last.

  I’d never really examined why I had no desire to screw other women. It was just…there. Harper had wedged her way into my soul in a way I couldn’t explain. And the thought seemed so laughable that I’d never even shared how I felt with Marcus, my twin.

  I explained it away when I rationalized my behavior to myself.

  I was too damn busy.

  I was too tired.

  I traveled too much.

  My lifestyle wasn’t conducive to having a relationship.

  Bullshit—all of it.

  The naked truth was…no other woman made me feel like she did. And if I couldn’t have that, I wasn’t willing to settle for anything else.

  Yeah, I realized that some guys didn’t need to feel anything except horny to screw another woman. I used to think the same thing.

  Until I met Harper.

  Until I had Harper.

  She was mine, and I was convinced it was never supposed to be any other way.

  “I can’t do this, Harper,” I explained in a voice that was still hoarse with raw desire.

  “Why?”

  I watched her sit up on the couch and run nervous hands down the legs of her jeans. I’d seen her do that before. It was some kind of anxious reaction that made me fucking crazy. Maybe because I wanted to be wrapping those long legs around my waist so I could feel what it was like to bury myself in ecstasy again.

  “You’re worried about Dani. You’re emotionally and physically exhausted.” I could see the dark circles beneath her eyes, and her fear made me edgy as hell. I couldn’t even think about how I’d survive her grief if Danica didn’t make it back stateside alive.

  “I am all of those things,” she admitted quietly. “But I do want you, Blake.”

  Maybe I was greedy. Maybe I wanted her full attention. Maybe I wanted her completely focused on me and us. For whatever the reason, the time wasn’t right.

  “Our timing always did suck,” I grumbled.

  Harper smiled. “Is there ever a right time?”

  “There should be,” I said grimly. “But right now you’re running on emotion and adrenaline. I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

  “I should have answered my phone years ago,” she said thoughtfully.

  “I should have tracked your
beautiful ass down when you didn’t,” I answered regretfully.

  I’d subconsciously waited for Harper for twelve damn years, and now we were together out of necessity. It wasn’t what I wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t what I needed.

  Screwing her right now was never going to get her out of my system. Not after she’d quietly haunted me for so many years.

  Yeah, my cock might disagree at the moment, but I wasn’t a twenty-two-year-old college kid anymore.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked in a more composed voice.

  The only thing I really wanted was her, but I answered, “Yes. But for God’s sake, don’t ask me to cook. Nothing I make would be edible. Why do you think I raid Mom’s buffet in the mornings?”

  “I thought you were Marcus getting breakfast at the buffet.”

  “I do the same thing. I can’t cook, either,” I grumbled.

  Her delighted laugh flowed over my senses like warm water after a cold outing. It felt pretty damn good.

  She stood, and I surveyed her from a distance, noting how little she’d really changed. Harper had matured, but she was still as gut-wrenchingly beautiful as she’d been at the age of eighteen. She didn’t have to be perfectly put together or wear designer clothing with lots of makeup.

  Her hair was falling out of its clip.

  Her eyes were puffy from crying.

  And she wasn’t dressed to impress in a pair of jeans, a violet sweater, and her hiking boots.

  And dammit, she was more attractive to me than any of the women I’d met who did take hours to put themselves together perfectly.

  Maybe I was just too accustomed to the DC crowd that Harper’s total lack of artifice appealed to me so much that I was desperate to keep her close.

  There was more to all this than simple desire or lust, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t think about it now. I was pretty sure my head would explode.

  “I’ll cook if you have food,” she offered.

  “I have no idea what’s stocked. I have a housekeeper, but I’m supposed to be on vacation. I’m not sure what’s in the freezer.”

  She walked across the room toward me. “And exactly when were you supposed to return from…where was it? Hawaii? The Caribbean? I suppose it would have to be someplace warm.”

  She was teasing, and it made my mood lighter. “I don’t think we made up a place this time, so pick any of them. Marcus and I didn’t have time for a complete façade.”

  “Some five-star Caribbean resort then,” she decided.

  “There was no return date mentioned,” I said with a small grin. Harper’s little game was infectious.

  “So I guess I’ll see what’s stocked up for a guy who might be back…whenever.”

  She turned and started making her way to the kitchen, and I smirked when she made a wrong turn. “This way,” I called after her.

  “Dammit. Why do you have to have a house this big?” she mumbled as she brushed past me.

  I suddenly remembered what she’d said about my dick being too big years ago. “You got a problem with big?”

  She shot me a mischievous look over her shoulder. She knew exactly what I was thinking. “Sometimes I do in the beginning. But it eventually works.”

  I laughed as I followed her, still damn near intoxicated from the light floral scent she left behind as she moved past me.

  I followed her because I couldn’t help myself. “So you don’t have a big house in California?”

  She shook her head as she moved across the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “I have a condo. There was no point in getting a big house. I’m never home.”

  I knew damn well Harper was wealthy. Her parents had been as rich as mine. “What happened to the rich girl who used to overspend on her parents’ credit cards?”

  “She got cured of most of her selfishness by spending a little time with the homeless,” Harper answered bluntly. “Now I buy for my needs instead of to impress other people.”

  I knew all of the things she’d learned from her brief period of homelessness had stuck with her. Harper did more good for people who needed help than almost anyone I knew. “What are you working on now?”

  I was curious to see what her latest projects were.

  “I have a commissioned job near Boston. So I’m working on a shelter there, too.”

  “How long are you going to build shelters?” I asked curiously.

  Harper pulled some items from the refrigerator, and then looked in the freezer. “As long as there’s more than a half million people in this country without a roof over their heads,” she answered firmly as she perused my food stock. “Your sister-in-law mentioned that a lot of the women in your family support a domestic abuse charity. I’d like to work with them in the future if I can.”

  “Do you need funding?” Hell, I’d give her my fortune if I thought it would make her happy.

  She shook her head. “Not really. My siblings and I have plenty of funds, but I don’t suppose we can go it alone forever.”

  “I’ll help you set up a charity, and it can get continually funded.”

  She shot me a happy smile. “I’d like that. Maybe I can do more.”

  Jesus! I loved it when she looked at me like I was her personal superhero just for suggesting I help her in some small way. “You already do a lot. You’ve done two places in California, right?”

  Okay. Yeah. Maybe I’d noticed some of the things Harper had done.

  “Yes. One up north, and one in Southern California.”

  “Don’t make yourself crazy. You can’t solve the problems all by yourself. Believe me, the government has been trying to improve the issue for years.”

  She came closer as she dropped some beef on the counter between us. “Not hard enough,” she said in a disappointed voice. “A lot of those people don’t have the mental capacity to take care of themselves. Some are our veterans who deserve better. And I hate that there are kids and mothers on the streets. The government needs to work harder.”

  “You’re right. But getting some of the rich farts in Congress to admit we have a very real homeless problem can be challenging.”

  Her emerald eyes laughed at me as she asked, “Are you one of those rich farts, Senator Colter?”

  “Nope. I might be rich, but I’m not oblivious of the problems in our country.”

  “Good. Keep it that way,” she suggested. “Once they lose touch with their humanity, those representatives are useless.”

  “Tell me about it,” I answered drily. “Sometimes my duties as a senator seem fruitless. But then I’m reminded why I’m there, why I ran for office, and I keep on trying.”

  Harper filled a pot with water and turned it on high. From looking over the ingredients, I assumed she was making some kind of pasta dish.

  She paused and then looked at me as she asked sincerely, “Why did you run?”

  I smirked at her. “Because there was some rich fart who needed to get ejected from his seat.”

  “I’m serious.”

  I shrugged. “So am I. He’d been a politician for too long. Nothing was getting done for the problems we were having in this state. He didn’t talk to the farmers, the ranchers, or any of the other people who mattered. He was so enmeshed in DC that he forgot who he was working for and who elected him.”

  She tilted her head as she surveyed me. “Something tells me you’ll never forget.”

  My heart roared as she looked at me like I was somebody special just because I was doing the work I was supposed to be doing. “If I ever do, I’ll exit DC so fast I’ll leave a trail of smoke behind me,” I vowed. I was in Washington for the people. If I ever got as engrossed with the lobbyists as some of the members of Congress were, so far up their ass that they didn’t give a damn what was right and what was wrong, I’d quit.

  “So what were your plans when we
first met? I never asked you.”

  “I was getting ready to graduate with my bachelor’s. I really thought I wanted to be a veterinarian, but I ended up switching to animal genetics. I’d just gotten my doctorate when I decided to run for Congress.”

  She laughed as she added pasta to the boiling water. “So you’re actually Dr. Senator Colter?”

  I grimaced. “Technically, I suppose. I’d prefer to just be Blake most of the time.”

  “So your genetic study is on hold.”

  “Not really. I’m working on developing healthier breeds of cattle here at the ranch right now. I have people in charge of the research and jobs while I’m gone, but I do what I can. My sister Chloe is a vet, and her husband, Gabe, is one of my best friends. He breeds horses, so we try to help each other out when we can.”

  Harper paused what she was doing and moved over to the counter. Placing her elbows on the tile, she stared up at me and said, “You’ve grown into a pretty amazing man, Blake Colter.”

  My chest ached, and I wanted to reach out and grab her, drag her over the counter, and then nail her right there on the kitchen cupboard.

  Truth was, I thought she’d grown into a pretty amazing woman, too.

  And the Harper Lawson she was today was all mine, just like she’d been when she was eighteen.

  She just didn’t realize it yet.

  Marcus

  I fucking hated night operations, but very few rescues could be carried out in the light of day. I could do plenty of information gathering for the CIA during the daylight, but rescues were a whole different story.

  I’d broken away from the rest of my team, doing a solo job of finding and pulling Danica out of her prison.

  Luckily, she hadn’t been taken that far over the border, but we were still in very hostile territory, and the fewer people involved, the better.

  I moved through the dusty camp, trying my damnedest not to choke on the dust swirling around in the desert climate.