The Billionaire's Masquerade (The Friendship Series) (3 page)

Why? She searched her mind frantically, not remembering where she was much less what she was supposed to be doing at the moment. And then it came back to her in a rush and she cringed inwardly at how ridiculous she must appear. “Because I have to find Mr. Watson. It’s urgent.”

The man’s smile only increased the painful pounding of her heart but, adding her wobbly knees and trembling limbs, she felt like she might just pass out. From a man’s touch? That sounded ridiculous, she told herself. Pulling her hand out, she stepped back from the man.

“I have to go,” she said with more force, shaking her head and forcing the wisps of hair out of her eyes. “Is his house that way?”

The tall, tanned and still fascinating man named Jack smiled slightly. “If you go down this road a bit more, you’ll run into another house.”

“And that’s where Mr. Watson lives?” she asked hopefully, desperate for clarification after this encounter.

The man shrugged those massive shoulders, still holding the half-empty bottle of water. “I’m pretty sure he’s not home but you’re welcome to go ring the doorbell. Molly might be there.”

A woman? That perked up Rachel’s interest. The man couldn’t be so bad if a woman were in residence. He must have to control his temper sometimes. “I’d be very interested to meet his wife,” she said with rising hope.

The man’s chuckle was her first warning. “Molly isn’t anyone’s wife,” Emerson replied. “She’s the ruler of that house. She’s probably there now cooking. She only comes by to make dinners and clean as well as to make sure everything is running as she deems fit. She stops by when Watson isn’t there so she can make sure he hasn’t messed anything up.”

Rachel sighed as her hopes were mercilessly dashed. “So he’s such an ogre that even his housekeeper can’t stand being around him,” she replied, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Thanks for the warning.” Shaking her head as if to banish such weak thoughts, she rallied quickly, refusing to give up on her quest. “Better to be alert,” she told him and forced a smile to her face and smoothed down her jacket. “I’m off. Thank you very much for the information.”

With that, she forced herself to turn around and walk down the gravel road and no matter how many times she wanted to, she didn’t allow herself to turn back to take another glance at the man’s enticing anatomy. She was fairly certain he was watching her though. A tingling in the center of her back told her that his eyes were watching her as she carefully walked down the irritatingly long, gravel road.

It took her another ten minutes and by the time she rounded the last corner, her feet were aching. She might love these shoes, but her feet didn’t love walking in them. The soles were so thin, she could feel every sharp corner of every piece of rock over which she’d traversed this morning.

When she finally caught sight of the house, the pain in her feet disappeared as she looked out at the gorgeous view. The enormous house was set up high on the cliff looking out to the ocean and it was possibly the most beautiful, peaceful scene she’d ever encountered. The structure had an ultra-modern feel, but there were quirky touches that helped the house look warm and comfortable with a cottage feel to everything. The cedar shingles added a coastal edge but it occurred to her that she couldn’t imagine why one man needed so much space. The house was enormous! There were turrets and long walls of windows, at one point, she could see through the house to the ocean. The space seemed to be some sort of hallway that connected the main house to a smaller area that was still larger than her whole apartment.

In a word, the house was magnificent.

She jerked herself out of her gawking and forced her aching feet to walk up the wide, stone steps to the front door. She pretended like her fingers weren’t shaking as she reached out and rang the doorbell, then held her breath, mentally preparing herself to deal with any kind of anger or irritation at her uninvited presence.

When a stern looking woman answered the door, Rachel felt an almost painful letdown mixed with relief.

“May I help you?” she asked, her voice polite, but not very impressed with Rachel’s presence.

Rachel took a breath, praying that her efforts would pay off. “I’m here to speak with Mr. Watson if he’s available.”

Molly looked the young, beautiful woman up and down, approving of the woman’s gumption if not so much her business suit. “How did you get up here? The driveway isn’t wide enough for a car to get through.” Molly looked down at Rachel’s red shoes with confusion.

Rachel was surprised by the abrupt words and only a half-hearted greeting. “I walked,” Rachel said with a bright smile. “It isn’t very far.” Which was a complete lie when one was walking in three inch heels. “Is Mr. Watson available?”

Molly leaned against the doorway, pressing her lips together as she contemplated how to answer the lovely woman’s question. “That man is out there somewhere,” she said, looking out over the flowering bushes that seemed to be everywhere. “He’s not here but then, he’s rarely inside on a day like today.”

Rachel felt defeated and flustered. “Oh,” was all she could say at the moment, her green eyes clouding over with temporary defeat. But she wasn’t going down yet. The man had to come home some time, didn’t he? “Do you know when he usually returns?”

Molly looked out into the sunshine as if trying to find the answers in the chaos of the Maine landscape. “That man has the oddest schedule you’ll ever find,” she explained. “He does what he wants, when he wants. He works when the mood strikes him but all other times, he’s out working on one project or another. I can’t tell you when he’ll be here, but I’d put money on him being at the Eager Beaver a bit later, a bar over on the other side of the peninsula. He generally gets a beer or two there most nights.”

Rachel sighed with exasperation. This wasn’t sounding like the man she wanted to emulate. He didn’t work a normal schedule? She’d always thought that being regimented and on a strict schedule would help her get ahead. Most mornings, she was the first one into the office and she stayed late each night while the foreign exchanges were still thriving. It was all very confusing.

“Thank you for your help,” Rachel said as the woman tucked a dishrag into the waistband of her apron.

Molly chuckled at the lovely woman’s disappointment. If Molly had her way, the man in question would be right here, getting to know this pretty stranger and settle down. Molly wanted some babies to take care of and that obstinate Emerson Jackson Watson wasn’t getting on board quickly enough. “Good luck finding him. He’s a wily devil.”

Rachel walked back down the stone steps, squinting her eyes against the sunshine as she considered her options. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. She’d gotten the earliest flight out of Dulles Airport so she could arrive here early enough to catch him before the famous Emerson Watson started his day. Now she was finding that he never really started his day. How exasperating.

She wasn’t giving up though. It was Friday morning which meant she had all weekend to try and catch the man. Tenacity was the way to go, she told herself, trying to pep herself up. She hadn’t caught him yet, but she still had until Sunday evening before she had to fly back to Washington, D.C.

Rachel walked back, her knees shaking once more as she rounded the corner where the handsome man had been twenty minutes ago. Sure enough, there he was, standing on the ladder, his shoulder muscles flexing in the sunshine, looking amazingly strong and virile.

“Find what you’re looking for?” he called out.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you…?”

“I can feel you,” he said and tossed the tool he’d been using to scrape the paint off of the cottage into a bucket and descended the ladder. Walking over to her, he wiped his hands on a relatively clean rag. “So?”

She sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re laughing at me?”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle at her adorable irritation. “Perhaps because I think you’re cute. And you’re priorities are wrong.”

She certainly didn’t like the sound of that. She squinted up at him, trying to see his eyes. “Why are my priorities wrong? What’s wrong with wanting to learn new things?”

“Nothing is wrong with that. But correct me if I misunderstood, but you’re looking for Watson so that you can learn the secrets to his investing philosophy, no matter how cutthroat it might be. Am I right?”

She shrugged. “There isn’t anything wrong with trying to get ahead.”

There was a long pause while he looked at her pretty green eyes. “Ahead of what?” he asked softly.

That seemed like such a ridiculous question with an annoyingly obvious answer. “Ahead of the crowd!” she came right back. “I don’t want to be part of the pack.” He smiled and Rachel couldn’t stop those crazy flutterings at the impact of that smile. She wanted to punch him or maybe even run away, but her feet were planted right here, trying to figure him out.

“You want to lead the herd, eh?”

“No! I want…” she stopped and thought for a moment, which was difficult with his muscular chest right in front of her. “Would you please put on a shirt?”

“Why? It’s hot and messy work.”

“Because I can’t think with you like that!” she snapped, her hand gesturing to his bare chest. Horrified at what she’d just admitted, she then pulled her hand back behind her so she wouldn’t completely insult him by reaching out and touching those muscles. She’d never seen a man that looked like this before. Well, there were the men in the gym. She supposed they were just as muscular, but there was something different about Jack.

He chuckled, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he walked over to his truck and grabbed the tee-shirt she’d handed him before. Obviously, he’d just tossed it into the truck after she’d left.

When he was fully covered, she sighed. “Thank you.”

“Better?”

She bit her lip, not sure that it was any better. She couldn’t see those muscles, but she knew they were there, just under the thin cotton. “It’s fine,” she said anyway. “What were we talking about?”

“You were telling me you’d love to have dinner with me tonight,” he came right back.

Her eyes widened and she suddenly laughed. “I don’t think that was the topic of conversation.”

His smile widened, causing her tummy to flip flop once again. “So, let’s change the subject. Investing is pretty tedious stuff anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. This man was gorgeous, buff and charming? Not fair! “It isn’t tedious. It’s actually quite fascinating.”

“In what way?” he asked, leaning against the truck. He reached in and pulled out a gallon sized jug, poured some yellow liquid out into a paper cup and handed it to her.

She reached out, sniffing warily. “What’s this?”

“This,” he said as he lifted his own cup up in salute, “is the quintessential summer drink.” And he took a long sip. Once again, Rachel couldn’t tear her eyes away from his neck, fascinated by everything about him.

“Trust me,” he encouraged softly when he lowered his cup and noticed her staring at him.

Rachel had the oddest sensation that he was referring to more than the liquid in her cup. She jerked back to reality and stared down at the liquid. “Lemonade?” she asked. She took a sip of the tart, sweet drink, closing her eyes as it moved down her throat. “Goodness, this is delicious!” she sighed.

“Told ya,” he replied with a wink. “Where are you off to now that you haven’t found your man?”

Rachel bit her lip, twirling the cup in her hand. “I’m not really sure. I hadn’t really thought about the possibility of him not being here.” Which was a silly reaction, she knew.

“Didn’t you have a pitch for him? Something to sell you’re laudable qualities to the great and pretentious Emerson Watson?”

His comment startled her and she looked up at him curiously, desperately wanting some insight into the man she was trying to learn from. “Why do you think he’s pretentious?”

“You’re avoiding my question, but in answer to your own question, anyone who has a house that big has to be pretty pretentious.”

She laughed, giving him that much. “Okay, the house is a bit much. Why does one man need so much space?” she asked.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. He knew the answer since he’d built the house himself. “Who says he does? Maybe he just bought the house because it has so much land around it. Deters strangers coming up to his front door.” None of that was true, but it sounded plausible. He’d actually built the house because he’d grown up in dumps, sometimes literally, with his Uncle Mario, helping out at a local restaurant just to get free food. Well, and he’d liked the owners who were kind and generous.

When he’d learned to invest, he’d been crowded into the damn New York City streets and offices with millions of other souls, all of whom constantly tried to cut their competition down to size. He’d built the house because of the fresh air, the freedom of the land and the incredible view of the ocean. He loved watching the storms blow in, accepting that he wasn’t powerful or omniscient. He was just human and the ocean reminded him of his humanity every time he woke up and looked out his bedroom window.

She laughed, understanding that he was referring to her very recent attempt to do just that. “Is he really such an ogre? Do you know him well?”

“I guess I know him as well as just about anyone knows another person.” That was an evasion and he felt only slightly uncomfortable with the omission of his true identity. But he had to admit, he was fascinated by this woman. He wanted to get to know her, to understand her without his reputation hindering their conversation.

“What’s he like?” she asked, feeling comfortable talking with him despite the ever-present need to touch him, smell him and…she had to stop thinking things like that!

Emerson gestured to the porch, offering her the lone chair at the front of the cottage. “He eats up little stock brokers like you for breakfast,” he teased.

Rachel laughed and Emerson’s gut tightened at the soft, husky sound. She didn’t look like the kind of woman who would laugh like that, he thought, watching her green eyes brighten with her wide, breathtaking smile. She relaxed back into the surprisingly comfortable rocking chair. “The man you want to work with has no principles. He’s hard, distrusts humanity, and hasn’t had any reason to change his impression. He’s seen the worst of people because of his talents, and he’s learned to play the game well enough to be on top of the dung heap. He prefers to separate himself from that world.”