SecretsontheSandKobo Read online

  The pilot dropped them lower, giving them a chance to see the twilight glinting off the white sand of Miami Beach.

  “That’s Fisher Island,” Zeke told her, using their joined hands to point to a triangular-shaped island at the lower tip of Miami Beach. “We’re going to that house, on the eastern side.”

  She followed his gaze but didn’t see a house, unless... “That’s a house? It looks like a hotel.”

  Zeke laughed. “Garrett Flynn is a little extravagant. And Meredith, his wife, is an incredible hostess, so the estate is lavish.”

  Lavish was an understatement. Amanda forgot the helicopter horror for a moment, studying the waterfront property consisting of several red-topped Spanish-style structures situated around a center pool the size of a small lake, complete with a waterfall. A yacht and several smaller boats were moored at a long dock.

  “Flynn’s a venture capitalist,” Zeke said, as if that explained the insane luxury.

  “From the looks of it, a good one,” she added. “Is that how you know him? Through business?”

  “And we’re in the same club in New York. Also, before he got married last year, he was on my softball team.”

  She couldn’t imagine being young enough to be on a softball team and owning that estate. But then, look at the man next to her.

  The chopper took another free fall, and the pilot tipped to the left, making Amanda seize up again. “Whoa,” she whispered.

  “Sorry again, folks,” the pilot said into their ears. “We definitely are hitting some turbulence.”

  Zeke put a solid arm around her. “No need to worry. Captain Davis is the best in the business.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the pilot said.

  He slid Mandy’s headset off her ear, pushing his microphone back so he could speak directly, and privately, to her. “We’re almost there, Mandy,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath and the genuine kindness in his voice sending chills over her. “Just relax.”

  She threw him a grateful glance, aware that the pilot might not hear Zeke’s whispers, but he could hear her response. “I’m trying,” she mouthed, her grip on his hand hard enough to dig her nails into his skin.

  “Think about how much fun you’re going to have tonight. It’s a beautiful place, right on the water, and Flynn and Meredith are great people. I know they’ll have a good crowd.”

  Her eyes flashed. “I thought it was a business meeting.”

  “I mix business and pleasure all the time.”

  She slid him a look and gave a sly smile of warning. Had he forgotten already that this was “strictly business”?

  “Well, not all the time,” he added, close enough to her ear that each word tickled. “You do remember that you’re there as my girlfriend?”

  “Imaginary,” she reminded him.

  “Folks, we’ll be landing in a few minutes,” the pilot said. “But it’s going to be a bumpy one, so hang on.”

  “Oh, great.” Mandy tried to laugh but failed as her imagination went crazy with how bad “bumpy” could be.

  “Stay calm,” Zeke whispered, lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss the jitters away. It almost worked.

  As they descended lower, the turbulence increased, forcing the pilot to make a wide turn and hover. She leaned over and looked out, the Atlantic Ocean far, far below.

  “Helicopters crash,” she said softly.

  “Not this one,” Zeke replied, reminding her that he could hear even her most private whispers. And so could Captain Davis. A strong bump jolted them into each other and elicited a soft cry from her.

  The pilot was speaking softly to the Fisher Island helo control tower, the words “rough” and “turbulent” and “wind velocity” doing nothing to ease her fears. Zeke must have sensed that because he leaned forward and signaled to the pilot to give them a private channel. Instantly, the ground control communication ended, but she and Zeke could still talk to each other.

  She wasn’t sure if that was better or not, but at least the pilot wouldn’t hear now how scared she was. She let her taut posture loosen slightly as Zeke repositioned his headset and mouthpiece to talk to her.

  “I can distract you,” he offered, taking both her hands in his and holding tight.

  He could and he did. And that was almost more dangerous than the winds that buffeted them.

  “Hey.” He tugged her hands to turn her right to him. “Talk to me. It’ll help.”

  “I can’t talk.” The headsets magnified the tension of her words.

  “Sure you can. You want to know about people you’ll meet tonight?”

  She nodded, trying to turn back to the window, but he wouldn’t let her. She tried to think of something that would genuinely get her mind off the turbulence. “Tell me about your softball team. What’s the name of it?”

  “The Niners.”

  “’Cause there are nine on a baseball team?”

  “No, because there are...” He hesitated, shaking his head. “It’s kind of a joke.”

  “What’s the joke?” she asked, keeping her voice steady despite the next rough bounce.

  The chopper dropped hard, whipping to the right as it did. She let out a groan of fresh fear. “Please tell me something to get my mind off the fact that we’re about to die.”

  He laughed softly. “We’re not going to die.”

  “Niners, like it’s a play on the 49ers?” she asked. “The football team?”

  “No.” He definitely seemed uncomfortable with the topic, and just as she was about to let it drop, he leaned closer and said, “It’s a reference to zeroes.”

  Zeroes? They’re all a bunch of zeroes? She shook her head, not understanding.

  “In our net worth,” he added.

  A slight frown pulled as she visualized that many zeroes and then...holy shit. “Nine?” she asked, all the fear gone and replaced by astonishment.

  That made him...a…she imagined a number with nine zeroes. “As in…” Her mouth formed a “b,” but no sound came out.

  Another shrug. “I told you, I’ve had some success.”

  “Some success?” She practically choked, the helicopter momentarily forgotten. “Wow. Really? Nine?”

  He laughed, studying her. “You really didn’t know that? It’s pretty easy to find out with one Google search. The first story that comes up is from Forbes, calling me one of the top twenty most elig...” His voice trailed off, and the helicopter hit a welcome but rare smooth section of air.

  Most eligible billionaires was what he was going to say, she assumed. “No,” she replied. “I didn’t Google you.” Then her heart stopped. “Did you Google me?”

  The helicopter jolted again, knocking them hard and turning her words into a soft shriek.

  The pilot was too busy getting them down to even throw back an apology, so Zeke pulled her closer, but it didn’t work. “Of course not.”

  But his words were lost as the whole chopper vibrated and rumbled, bouncing in the wind like a kid’s toy on water.

  “Oh, my God.” She barely mouthed the words. “I’m sorry to be so scared. I hate this.”

  “Don’t be sorry. But I promise, I travel like this all the time. This is really rare.”

  She nodded, biting her lip and holding his gaze. “I don’t want to die before I start my business,” she whispered.

  “You’re not going to die.”

  She closed her eyes without answering.

  “Mandy.” He pulled her into him, fighting the pressure of his seat belt to get closer and wrap her in his arms. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “Don’t be…”

  It wasn’t working; she was shuddering. With one quick look to the pilot, he snapped his mouthpiece down and did the same to hers.

  Just as they plunged another few feet, he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth but didn’t move away because this...this felt so good. If she was going to die, it would be kissing this beautiful billionaire.

  She grabbed his head and pulled him harder against her mouth.
Taking the cue, he deepened the kiss, opening his lips, letting their tongues clash and collide.

  He tasted like peppermint and safety, closing his hands over her face to hold her right where he wanted, each second of contact making the wind seem to die down. Or maybe she forgot to be afraid because this felt so good.

  She took a breath, let out a soft sigh, and deepened the kiss. They stayed that way until they jolted one last time, hitting the concrete of Fisher Island Heliport.

  “Uh, we made it, folks.”

  The pilot’s voice, back in their ears, jolted them apart.

  “Sorry for the rough ride.”

  She closed her eyes. “That wasn’t rough,” she whispered. “That was perfect.”

  Chapter Seven

  Finally on solid ground, Amanda really tried to put that little tidbit of information on the back burner as Zeke ushered her to a private car, which took them around the island to the mind-boggling waterfront mansion owned by debonair Garrett Flynn and his vivacious and quite pregnant wife, Meredith. Still affected by the turbulence —and that kiss—Amanda managed not to swipe a damp palm over the couture dress before shaking their hands.

  Instead, she took steadying breaths and tried not to ogle the surroundings as she was handed a crystal goblet of champagne, greeted by some of the other twenty or so guests, and introduced proudly by Zeke as his girlfriend, Mandy Mitchell.

  His imaginary girlfriend.

  Well, that made sense, because everything definitely had a fantasy-like feel to it. From the wall-to-wall aquarium stocked with sharks—real ones—in the living room to the multi-layered pool with at least fifteen canopied bed-like lounges around it, nothing seemed real. So it was fine to pretend to belong to the attentive man at her side as twilight descended over paradise and the first few sips of champagne took away Amanda’s nerves.

  But every once in a while, in the middle of light, breezy conversations with people who all looked like they’d stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad, she’d glance up at Zeke, and he’d give her a smile that was very real.

  After one conversation ended and that couple stepped away, Zeke and Amanda were alone, side by side, facing the deepening-blue ocean that grew darker as some evening clouds gathered.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked softly, the question innocuous, but the tone was intimate.

  “About?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but smiled. “The house? The party? Your boyfriend?”

  The word did a really unholy thing to her insides. “The house is breathtaking. The party is exquisite. And the boyfriend…” Is breathtaking and exquisite. “Has really honed his social skills since Mimosa High.”

  He laughed. “You know you could totally wreck my reputation with that secret knowledge about what a loser I was in high school.”

  “Loser?” She scoffed at the word. “If so, you shook that label quite nicely.”

  “You’re being kind,” he said. “As far as the social skills, some networking comes with the job.”

  The job of being a billionaire. “Speaking of jobs, this isn’t quite what I pictured when you said you had a business dinner you wanted me to attend.” Amanda gestured toward the infinity pool and the yacht just beyond it, taking in the small crowd, harpist, and white-jacketed waiters. “I thought I’d be surrounded by stodgy old men in a dark restaurant where I’d be sitting next to you like an accessory while you planned to take over Wall Street.”

  “No stodgy old men or dark restaurants in business anymore,” he explained. “And Wall Street takeovers are so last millennium. But you know what’s most wrong with your picture?” He leaned closer, his hand secure and seductive on her shoulder, his mouth kissably close. “You could never be an accessory to any man.”

  The words sent a splash of white hot emotion into her stomach. Yes, she could. And she shouldn’t let champagne, chiffon, or sharks let her forget it. “Not again,” she said softly.

  A frown pulled his brows together. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me about this jerk you married.”

  Her whole body tightened. “One of these days, I will.” She tried to inch away. “But not tonight. This is too beautiful and too much fun for ancient history. This is really...” So not the time and place for that particular confession. “Are all your houses like this one?”

  “I’m more understated than Garrett. I have a nice place in the city, though, overlooking Central Park. And a really pretty Victorian in San Francisco with plenty of room if you want to come and visit California.”

  She let the invitation pass. Pretend would end, and she couldn’t forget that.

  “Flynn likes to flash his money,” he said quickly, as though he’d read the look of discomfort on her face. “But he’s much more settled down now that he’s married and has a baby on the way. Much happier.”

  She couldn’t help detecting a wistful note in his voice. “Is that what you want?”

  He didn’t answer right away. “Isn’t that the American dream?” he finally asked.

  She gave a disdainful, but soft, snort. “You’re living the American dream, Zeke.”

  “Not entirely.” The subtext in his voice couldn’t be ignored this time. “Not like Garrett,” he added.

  “Garrett seems happy,” she agreed. “But, trust me…” She looked hard at Zeke, wondering how honest she should be. Under the circumstances, not too open. “Marriage can be a nightmare.”

  He didn’t flinch, his eyes reflecting the water beyond them as he gave her a questioning look. “Did he hurt you that bad, Mandy?”

  Why sugarcoat it? “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.” He turned her so that they were facing each other, the breeze lifting her hair and the way he looked at her lifting her heart. “I’m sorry he broke you so badly.”

  Denial rose up, swift and certain. “I’m not broken. And, thanks to you, I am well on my way to complete independence, which is all I crave, ever.” She lifted her glass in a toast, even though the champagne was nearly gone. “So thank you, Ezekiel Nicholas, for doing deals great and small, even with me.”

  He tapped his glass to hers. “Mandy.” Never had anyone made her name sound so pretty. “I’m having a hard time.”

  Having a hard time breathing? Because that simple task was next to impossible for her right at this second, under the onslaught of this man’s insane attention. “How so?”

  He let his gaze fall to her mouth, his expression telling her he was remembering the kiss on the helicopter. Done to distract and calm her, it had had the opposite effect, making her focused on him and completely unnerved.

  “I’m having a hard time keeping this imaginary.”

  A ribbon of heat twirled through her, but her body betrayed her with chills. “Ah, yes, the man who hates to lie.” She tried to keep it light, but her voice was tight. “You’re doing a good job of pretending, though. I’m sure every person at this gathering believes I’m your girlfriend. Not that I understand why they need to.”

  “So I’m not lying. Remember? The contract.” With his free hand, he held her chin, lifting it slightly as if he were getting ready to kiss her again. And, God help her, she would kiss him right back. “I’m a man who honors a contract, no matter what it’s written on. Ask any of my business associates in this room.”

  “Whoa, Nicholas. Please tell me this is your long-lost sister you’ve brought to meet me.”

  Zeke closed his eyes and broke into a wry smile. “Except this one,” he said under his breath. “Don’t ask this one anything.” He turned, shaking his head, still smiling as he extended his hand. “I didn’t know you were here, Becker.”

  “When Garrett Flynn sends his private jet, I board and fly where it takes me, because it’s usually somewhere cool. Or hot. And speaking of hot...” He shook Zeke’s hand but kept his dark, penetrating gaze on Amanda. “Hello.” He positively drawled the word. Nearly as tall as Zeke and every bit as well-built, this man had a face that looked more rugged, less clean shaven, and raw.
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br />   “Mandy, this is Elliott Becker, who is best kept at arm’s length. Becker, let me present Mandy Mitchell, who is not my sister and quite immune to your fake Texas twang and oversized, uh, ego.”

  Elliott’s easy smile crinkled tanned skin and made his midnight-black eyes dance with humor. “The twang isn’t fake, darlin’, and the ego isn’t the only sizable thing on me. God, you’re gorgeous. Ditch this human computer and marry me.”

  She laughed, instantly charmed. But Zeke speared him with a look. “She’s too smart for you.”

  “Who isn’t?” he joked, winking at Amanda. “I’m still amazed they let me on the team. I’m the dumbest third baseman ever.”

  Dumb as a fox, she suspected, if he was one of the Niners. “I doubt that.”

  Elliott reached for her glass. “Smart enough to know when a lady needs a drink.” He put the glass under Zeke’s nose. “Get with the program, Genius. Your girl’s parched.”

  Zeke took the glass, giving him an amused glare. “Do your best, Becker. It won’t work. She’s mine.”

  “You can’t blame a man for trying.”

  Zeke laughed. “No, I can’t. Excuse me, Mandy.”

  He stepped away, and instantly the other man got a little closer, a scent of sandalwood adding to his allure. “Where did he find you?”

  “High school,” she said.

  “No shit. Sweethearts?”

  “Not exactly. We had longing eye contact across the cafeteria.”

  “Really? I pictured Zeke more of the lost-in-the-library type back then.”

  “You can’t imagine.” She gave him a slow smile, wanting to protect—and even improve—Zeke’s reputation. “Every girl in school wanted him in the worst way.” Wanted his GPA, so that wasn’t a lie.

  Both his eyebrows shot up. “Including you?”

  “At the front of his line.”

  He made a little snort of surprise, which gave her a weird jolt of pleasure. “So where you been all these years?” he asked.