Beauty and the Billionaire Page 3

  "She's always wanted you to reconcile with your father," Rita pointed out.

  "Like that's ever going to happen."

  "Well, I'm glad you're around." Rita drifted down the bar towards other customers. "Stick around and cross your fingers. Maybe that pretty singer will get back on stage. I'm telling you, Penn, you're going to love her."

  I gripped the tonic water with both hands and tried to ignore the prophetic ring of Rita's words. I knew it was only a matter of time before Allen told her about the scene outside and she'd be right back down the bar to pry all the details out of me. What had possessed me?

  It was easy to justify my reaction to the way Joshua grabbed her. It had triggered bad memories from a dark time in my childhood. But that didn't explain the initial reaction I had to Corsica. What was it about her that turned me upside down?

  Sure, she was beautiful. She was gorgeous. A curvy but athletic body tucked tight into a little black dress. Her hair was a cascade of honey-blonde curls that I itched to wind around my fingers. And those eyes that changed hue with her every passing emotion. It was no wonder I was attracted to Corsica. The real puzzle was why my mind couldn't win out and dismiss her.

  When I had denounced my family fortune, I had turned my back on an enormous social circle that looked exactly like Corsica and her prep-school ex. Each tattoo I got released me further from the expectations and restrictions of the ultra-rich. I shunned luxury surroundings and camped out for weeks on end. I grew out my beard. I roughened my hands with rock-climbing. And then, I found my fortune in outdoor equipment.

  The irony of it still made my mind reel.

  "Penny for your thoughts?"

  I looked up and had to grab the bar for support. Corsica stood next to me, one hand tugging at a long curl. "You forget something?" I asked.

  The corners of her mouth quirked up. "My manners. I forgot to thank you for stepping in earlier." Her eyes widened. "Not that I'm saying Joshua's a bad guy, he's not. It's just I appreciate that you were willing to speak up for a complete stranger."

  I nodded. "Where's your friend?"

  "Ginny?" Corsica asked. Her smile disappeared. "She went to a bar in Chinatown with her co-workers after I told her I was taking a cab home."

  "Allen will be disappointed," I said.

  "Allen?" Corsica brightened.

  "The bouncer. I think he might be head over heels."

  "The giant outside? Oh, Ginny would love him," she said as she glanced at the doors.

  I grinned. "I want to be there when you tell him. Big man falls hard."

  "Let me just ask the bartender to call me a cab first," Corsica said. "My phone died."

  I glanced down the bar and saw Rita sloshing two drinks towards a couple. Then she wiped her hands and fluffed up her hair. If Rita got to Corsica, she'd hang on and flirt with her. It would only take Rita a few minutes to read my reactions and then I would never hear the end of it.

  "Actually, I've got a car waiting outside. It's yours if you want." I stood up and offered Corsica my arm.

  She smiled and slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow. "So, you really are a white knight?"

  I ignored Rita's flailing gestures and headed with Corsica towards the front doors. "I don't like how common courtesy has become as rare as chivalry," I said.

  Allen opened the doors for us with an entirely too wide smile. "Good to see you again, m'lady," he said.

  "Sounds like her friend has a crush on you," I said to shut him up.

  Allen gaped and Corsica laughed as he stammered to her about maybe calling Ginny if she wouldn't mind giving him her number.

  I was glad they were both distracted because at that moment Joshua stepped out of a black town car. He sneered at me and looked for an opening to call Corsica over.

  I hated to use my influence since I didn't want Corsica to see, but I directed the valets with a nod. They jumped up and directed Joshua's driver to move along. He argued immediately and Allen's team, a pair of off-duty police officers almost the same towering size as him, encouraged Joshua to get back in his vehicle.

  Within seconds, Joshua was cleared out and my Maserati slid into place. My driver, a juvenile delinquent that could handle any car better than the best, stepped out and gave me a jaunty salute. I whipped out my phone and texted quickly how he better keep his mouth shut no matter what I said.

  "You're letting Tom Thumb drive the Maserati?" Allen asked.

  Corsica's mouth dropped open as she saw the silver sports car. Tom whipped open the back door and grinned. "That's your car?" she asked.

  "My boss's car," I lied.

  "And who's Tom Thumb?" she asked.

  "Only the biggest car thief in the Bay Area," Allen muttered.

  "He's just a kid," she pointed out.

  "A kid with a rap sheet longer than the Golden Gate Bridge," Allen boomed. "And, he better remember that his ass is on the line no matter how nice Penn is to him."

  Corsica laughed when Tom blew Allen a kiss.

  "He was a car thief," I admitted. "I met him when he stole my, I mean, my boss's car right out from under Allen's post."

  "That can't really be his name," Corsica said.

  "Street name for a street rat," Allen mumbled.

  "Not many people get the drop on Allen," I explained as I led Corsica towards the Maserati.

  "It was my pleasure, sir," Tom said with an overly dramatic bow.

  "I only employ him because it pisses off my boss." I caught Tom's eyes to make sure he had understood my text message.

  He saluted again. "Penn's boss is a real dick. Where to?"

  "Take the lady home," I said.

  Corsica's eyes widened again. "Oh, sorry, no. I told you I'm from Santa Cruz. I better just have you drop me off where Ginny is over in Chinatown."

  "Nonsense," Tom said. "Penn's, ah, boss has a great place over on Telegraph Hill. Plenty of room. Just minutes away."

  I shot Tom a warning glance, but he was unrepentant. Then the thought worked on me for a moment more. If Corsica came with me to my father's house, I would have the perfect buffer. She'd be shocked by who he was, and I would be able to use her as a reason to push off our conversation until the morning. I was just not up to hearing what the old man had to say.

  "He's right. You're welcome to stay at the house. In fact, there's an entire apartment over the garage. It's private and secure. Ginny's welcome to stay, too," I said.

  Corsica frowned. "Your boss won't mind?"

  "Not when he gets a load of you," Tom said.

  I kicked him in the shin. "My boss will most likely not make an appearance until the morning. He's a very busy man."

  She chewed her cheek and considered my offer. "What if I change my mind?"

  "Tom here drinks too much caffeine, so you can call him at any time. He knows all the good, reasonable hotels and motels in the city," I said.

  I waited and tried not to hold my breath. I knew full well that I didn't look like the type of guy good girls should be going home with in the middle of the night. My rag-tag sidekick did nothing to add respectability to my image, but, then again, I wanted her to take me as I was. Minus the growing fortune.

  I didn't want to lie to Corsica, but I didn't want her to know I was loaded. Suddenly, it was more important than anything that Corsica see me for myself, not my money or my family connections.

  She took out her phone, then remembered the battery had died.

  "I've got a charger for that," Tom said. "In the car. You'll be up and running before we get to the top of the hill."

  "Not the way you drive," I muttered.

  Corsica smiled. "Well, if you're willing to charge my phone so I can call Ginny, then I guess the least I can do is take a look at the apartment."

  She slipped into the car, and Tom slammed the door with a flourish. "I like her," he announced. "I don't think you need to lie to her."

  I scowled as I shooed him around to the driver's door. "I like her, too, and I probably will until she fin
ds out who I am."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Corsica - 3

  I tucked my hands back in my lap as soon as Penn got in the backseat next to me. The polished, leather seats were softer than anything I had ever touched. I had been insulated in a world of luxury, and within seconds found myself caressing the seat underneath me. Then, Penn slipped into the seat next to mine and cocked a dark eyebrow at my fidgeting fingers.

  "You don't have to be nervous," he said. "You can get right out and we'll call you a cab."

  I laced my fingers tight. "No, that's not it." I laughed at myself. "I was just, ah, admiring your boss's car."

  Penn's lips curved. "You were petting the seats?"

  I raised my nose. "I was not. I simply felt the softness of the leather and found it nice."

  "I don't mind a bit of leather myself," Penn said.

  My eyes flew to his and my mouth gaped before I caught the twinkle in his eye. I swatted his arm. "I bet you're the one that pets these seats. Does your boss know that you use his car?"

  "He should. He's the one that summoned me."

  Penn shut his door, and Tom jumped into the driver's seat. The engine growled as Tom left a black mark on the pavement behind us. I glanced back to see Allen shaking his enormous fist in the air. Whatever he yelled was drowned out by the high-performance engine.

  "I only hire Tom when I'm in town."

  "'Cause it pisses off his boss." Tom winked into the rearview mirror.

  Penn gave him a murderous glance and turned to me. "I hate to say this when he can hear, but the gaunt, little brat is the best driver. If you want to beat the traffic in the Bay Area, then this is your guy."

  "At your service," Tom gave me an outrageously flirty smile and earned himself a whack on the back of his head. "Ow. Careful, man, or she might ask me to drive her away from such a brute."

  Penn turned back to me. "We can drop you off wherever you want. Chinatown is minutes away."

  My heart skittered. What was I doing? I was riding with a mysteriously connected, tattooed man in a brand new Maserati with a juvenile delinquent driver. It was the middle of the night, I was hours from home, and Ginny was off somewhere in Chinatown. Every rational fiber in my body screamed to redirect the kid to the address Ginny had texted.

  Then, the burning in my chest flared up. Every time I thought of Joshua's condescending reminders of how to further my career, the frustration enflamed me. I was free to do as I chose. And if I chose to spend the night with Penn, that was my decision. No one would blame me; a lot of my friends would probably applaud.

  Despite Penn's careless and shaggy appearance, he was incredibly attractive. Strong hands that could be so gentle, a rock hard chest between broad shoulders, and dark, smoldering eyes that could melt a girl right down to her toes. I took a deep breath. The scent of him was an intoxicating mix that reminded me of sunshine and warm pine needles.

  The heat in my chest radiated through me and changed. The burning I had felt was lust for Penn. The blush was instant and I prayed the streetlights didn't show him. But he was looking at me, waiting for me to answer.

  I licked my dry, panicked lips and said, "I'd rather go home with you."

  Tom gave a randy growl, then laughed. "Good thing,'cause we're here."

  Penn's dark eyes were locked on my lips and it took a moment for him to blink then punch the back of the driver's seat. The temperature in the car had risen at least ten degrees. I looked at my window and wondered if there was still time to roll it down and soothe my heated blush.

  I glanced at Penn. Why was he being so nice? Could he really be so gallant, or was he expecting this to be a one-night stand? A passionate one-night stand. The thought melted me right to the core.

  I shook my head. What was I thinking? I wasn't that kind of girl. The last person I had been with was Joshua. He was an energetic but predictable lover and everything had been so polite. I didn't know how to be with anyone else, especially not someone that looked like Penn.

  The rugged and rough look of him had my insides quivering. I could imagine those wide lips of his searing mine with a hard, passionate kiss.

  I definitely needed to roll down the window. I fumbled with the sleek switches on the door handle. Then, I saw what was outside and fell back in my seat.

  Enormous gates decorated with intricate scrollwork iron swung slowly open. The driveway dipped low and revealed a breathtaking view of San Francisco Bay. My eyes touched on the red Spanish tiles of the mansion's roof. Before I could blink, we swept down the driveway and under a wisteria-covered pergola and parked in front of a set of arched doors.

  Lights blinked on behind the wall of windows, and I could see through the top floor to the twinkling red arches of Golden Gate Bridge. Tom jumped out of the driver's seat and opened Penn's door. I was ensconced in the silent luxury of the Maserati again, and all I could hear was my own shallow, shocked breathing. I had gone home with a complete stranger and ended up facing the most jaw-dropping mansion I had ever seen.

  Penn pulled open my door and offered me a hand. As I eased myself from the car and blinked in wonder at the mansion, he spoke over my head to the young driver. "That's it for tonight. And, no, you can't borrow the car. I already transferred your fee to your account."

  "Who needs car?" Tom snarked. "From this hoity-toity hill, I can skateboard to the Embarcadero without putting a foot on the ground."

  The exchange made me smile, and I felt the overwhelmed tangle in my gut unknot. I had seen Penn interact with Ginny, his bouncer friend, and the scrawny teenage driver. He might look tattooed and tough, but Penn had a caring and generous heart. My nerves were still jumping, but I was sure that I was safe alone with him.

  He watched Tom glide out of the gates with his middle finger extended and laughed. "I hope he didn't scare you. Tom seems reckless, but he's the most hyper-aware and fast-reflexed driver I've ever known."

  "He seems charming," I said.

  Penn glanced at me, and when he saw I was being honest, he smiled. "That must be why I like him."

  I slipped my arm through his and felt his biceps tighten. The jolt of power I felt from causing him a physical reaction made my head giddy and light. "How about you give me a tour?" I asked and the breathless tone was unintentional.

  "My pleasure." Penn's voice was gravel-rough.

  I shivered deliciously as we walked together up the wide, sweeping front steps.

  "This isn't like a normal house," Penn said, pushing open the double-arched doors.

  "No kidding," I muttered, stepping inside. The polished tile under my feet was Travertine, and for a wild moment, I wished I had worn fancier shoes.

  Penn chuckled. "The first floor is basically a giant foyer. There are a few seating areas, but it's mostly about the view."

  He wasn't kidding. The panoramic view of San Francisco Bay was captivating, but my eyes kept sliding back to Penn. He was bulkier and heavier-muscled than any other man I had found attractive. But the soft cling of his worn T-shirt revealed a flat stomach and narrow waist. He was fit and firm, and my mouth kept going dry.

  "The next floor down is the dining hall. It's flanked by a butler's pantry and a separate bar with the best views of Treasure Island." Penn laid a wide hand at the small of my back and led me through the priceless artwork and elegant interior design of the first floor to a curving staircase.

  I stopped at the top of the stairs and willed my body not to sway as Penn's arm curved around my waist. "And, what's on the next floor below that?" I asked.

  "The living room, the music room, the first of the guest rooms," Penn said. "Or would you rather just go see the apartment above the garage?"

  His dark eyes showed flecks of gold as he took a step down and came level with me. The electrical realization that his lips were just inches from mine made my brain short circuit. I imagined us falling in the door of the small garage apartment, my hands tugging hard to pull his shirt over his wide shoulders. The wild, unbidden idea of testing my teeth agai
nst his taut muscles made me sway.

  Penn's hands automatically caught my waist and steadied me. As I reached out and caught his shoulders, the gold in his eyes burned brighter. I felt his fingers flex around my waist. All I had to do was lean forward and our lips would meet. I caught my breath and tore my gaze away from his eyes.

  "It's just, ah, your boss's place is spectacular," I said.

  Penn shrugged and turned down the staircase. "And, you've only seen the top floor."

  The weight of my disappointment pushed me down the stairs after him. I was glad he walked in front of me because my cheeks blazed again. I could have sworn his question was more an invitation, but what if I was wrong? Penn probably saw me as some silly blonde he would never bother with if I hadn't needed help.

  I crinkled up my nose and balled my fists. The women that Penn found attractive were probably outgoing, confident, and strong. I was none of those things. I was snobby when nervous, insecure, and tripping all over myself around him.

  As we stepped down onto the next floor, I smoothed back my silken curls. Penn might think he was better than me, but that didn't mean I was unattractive. I tugged down my dress and tossed my hair. If he thought he could dismiss me, then I would have to show him I didn't care. Men always wanted women that didn't want them.

  "So, what's your boss like?" I asked.

  The question sparked a reddish hue in his dark brown eyes. "My boss? He only loves the best of the best," Penn snarled.

  "And yet he lets you work here?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

  Penn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, very funny. I never said he loved me."

  "Your boss?" I was thrown off-balance.

  "I hardly ever come here," Penn said. "Normally, I live at my own place down in Monterey. I'm more of a free-agent these days."

  His phone rang, and Penn swore. I sauntered over to the sparkling view and let him take it.

  "Yes, I got your message. Yes, I'm here. Of course you're going to be late," Penn's answers were curt. "Yes, boss."

  I didn't want Penn to think I was listening in on his conversation, so I pulled out my phone. Tom had charged it as promised, and I was able to check my messages. The first one was a quick message asking if I had seen all of Penn's tattoos yet. Attached to it was a raunchy cartoon of a girl swooning over a tattooed strong man whose chest muscles danced. I laughed out loud.