The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3) (4 page)

Randi was an optimist, and more than anything else she wanted to feel loved. Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but they’d never amounted to a serious relationship. She liked sex as much as any other female her age, but she was burnt out on meaningless relationships that involved nothing but sex. There had to be something more. She’d seen it between her foster parents, and she saw it every day between her married friends and their spouses. Unfortunately, she’d never experienced that white-hot connection with anyone except the one man she couldn’t stand: Evan Sinclair.

Don’t think about him. He’s an arrogant, insufferable asshole.

She shuddered as she thought about how hard she’d tried to get to know Evan in the beginning, only to be soundly rejected. Obviously, a lowly teacher in a small town wasn’t worth him putting out the effort to even be polite. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to jump his bones. Well . . . maybe she
had
wanted to, but at the time she was just trying to be nice to a man she knew she was going to have to deal with for Emily’s wedding. She had managed to shrug off the first snub during Emily’s nuptials, thinking maybe Evan was just having a bad day. But when he’d responded the same way when Sarah and Dante had gotten married and the two of them had found themselves paired once again, Randi had finally realized that Evan simply didn’t like
her
. By the time Mara and Jared got married, Randi had completely ignored him except for the necessary superficial smiles and robotic motions she’d made as a bridesmaid to Evan’s groomsman. Since all of the married Sinclairs had wanted to be paired with their wives, Randi had ended up being a bridesmaid by default, as Mara’s best friend’s broken leg hadn’t completely healed in time for her to be part of the ceremony. She didn’t regret having been a bridesmaid so many times. Through the ceremonies, she’d made an incredible circle of female friends who had been there to support her during the last few dark weeks. Unfortunately, those friendships had come at the price of putting up with Evan Sinclair.

Too bad he’s such a self-involved dick, because he’s majorly hot. I wish I could figure out why I’m so damn attracted to him when I can’t stand him.

She was still contemplating what it was about Evan that irritated her when she left the building. The Center was busy as Randi exited, deciding to walk down to Brew Magic instead of taking the time to clean the snow off her car. Friday night saw a lot of activity at the Center, especially since Grady had married Emily and so many new programs and changes had occurred.

Shoving her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket, Randi gripped the Apache-tear crystal that Beatrice had given her months ago when she’d stopped by the elderly woman’s store, Natural Elements, to chat. Beatrice had been friends with Randi’s foster mother, and she’d stopped into the eclectic shop whenever she had the chance to update Beatrice on Joan’s medical condition. It was on one of those visits that Beatrice had made her prediction and handed Randi the crystal along with her predictions.

Joan will pass in the winter, but you’ll open a new chapter in your life soon after with a man who needs you even more than you need him. He’ll be your soul mate, and you’ll finally become a bride instead of a bridesmaid.

Randi shook her head with a sad smile, remembering the certainty on Beatrice’s face that day.

Picking up her pace, she trudged quickly through the lightly falling snow on the sidewalk. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe that supernatural talents
could
exist, but she didn’t take the elderly woman’s words too seriously. She’d known Beatrice since she’d moved to Amesport as a teen. Some of her predictions were eerily accurate, some of them weren’t. Randi’s rational mind was telling her that the accurate predictions Beatrice made could simply be coincidence. They had to be flukes. Randi was open-minded, but she had to draw the line at somebody knowing her future. She believed in people deciding their own fate or destiny. Anything else was just . . . chance.

She waited for traffic to clear before she sprinted across the street, her boots sliding in the snow as she stopped breathlessly in front of Brew Magic. She ignored the sensation that the crystal in her pocket appeared to warm beneath her fingers, before she jerked her hands from the warmth of the fleece compartments to hastily attempt to right her damp, wind-tossed hair.

“Beatrice’s stone is
not
magic, and her prediction is nothing more than nonsense,” she told herself forcefully as she brushed the snow from her head and tried to make herself presentable to go chat with Liam. “Things like that don’t happen to women like me. I make my own luck and my own future.”

Considering her past, Randi
was
happy with her life, even though she was still grieving for Joan. She had a good education, a good job, and friends who meant everything to her. If she was lonely sometimes now that her foster mother was gone, she’d get through it. Her earlier childhood had taught her that life was tough, and wishes didn’t often become reality. Dennis and Joan coming into her life had been her miracle, if there was any such thing. She didn’t need any more than what they’d given her: a home for a homeless girl with no hope for the future.

Randi tried not to remember that Beatrice had predicted that Dennis and Joan would still have a child, even after all hope of Joan getting pregnant was long gone. Before her foster parents had left on vacation to California, Beatrice had reminded them of her prediction, saying her spirit guides had told her that they’d find their daughter while they were on their Southern California sightseeing tour.

Joan had been a firm believer in Beatrice’s gift of premonitions. Being a realist, Randi had always been on the fence.

“Beatrice runs about fifty-fifty on her predictions,” Randi whispered to herself. “She was right about Jared and Mara, so she’s due to be wrong about mine.”

Chastising herself for standing in the brutal weather contemplating a silly rock, Randi hurried into Brew Magic, determined not to regret the fact that she’d had to cut her conversation short with her pen pal because of her prior engagement.

She tried not to think about what S. was doing right at the moment as she searched the crowded coffee shop for Liam.

CHAPTER 3

Evan waited impatiently for his turn at the coffee shop in Amesport, having stood in line for almost ten minutes before arriving at the front of the queue. He wasn’t used to standing in line, and
his turn
was usually immediate. He was wasting time, and that annoyed him. He didn’t squander time that he could be using for work, and he didn’t spend any evenings so distracted that he stopped the dictation he’d been doing on an important financial report to find a diversion.

He’d ended up driving himself to Brew Magic for a nonfat mocha coffee with no whipped cream, a beverage he’d come to tolerate after Jared kept dragging him into the coffee shop to get his fix. If Jared was here, he wouldn’t be sparing the whipped cream or the fat. Evan’s younger brother liked his coffee with every available evil known to man, usually accompanied by several of the calorie-, sugar-, and fat-laden pastries that Evan could now see gracing the shelves of the racks behind the glass.

“Can I help you, sir?” A friendly teenager stepped up to assist him as Evan became the next person to place his order.

He quickly told the smiling girl what he wanted, feeling uncomfortable in the cramped, busy space. People were vying for tables to sit and sip coffee, probably to get out of the frigid temperatures outside. People milled around him as he waited for his coffee to be blended.

What am I doing here?

Unfortunately, Evan knew exactly why he was there. After finding out that even his pen pal had a date, he’d been restless. For some unknown reason, he’d been annoyed that she was actually going out on a date. He hadn’t been teasing when he’d told her he was jealous. He
was
envious of the man she was out with tonight. Somehow, he’d become addicted to her words on the screen, and he wanted to know what she was doing. Was she having a good time? Was the guy she was seeing a decent sort of man?

Christ! This is ridiculous. I don’t even know her, and I’m worrying about her.

The problem was, she’d become a friend to him, and Evan Sinclair didn’t have very many friends. He had people who catered to him, told him what he wanted to hear. But those people didn’t like
him
; they liked his money and power. He had acquaintances with the same status he had, but all of them were too busy to actually strike up a real friendship. They were connected by business, and business was a priority for all of them.

I like her. And she likes me as a person. She has no idea who I really am.

Just the fact that his mystery writer liked him as a person without knowing his identity was a novelty, and it made him covet her attention. Okay. Yes. He was greedy and selfish, but it was the first time he’d wanted something just for himself.

I should have told her that I wanted to meet her.

He’d had the chance when he’d admitted he was in Maine, but then he’d have to tell her that he was in the same town she lived in, thus having to reveal his identity. If he didn’t, she’d think he was some kind of crazy stalker. Why would an employee of the Sinclair Fund be in Amesport? It would be way too much of a coincidence that he just happened to have family in this town. She might be alarmed, afraid of him.

Grimacing at the thought of his email friend being fearful of him, he picked up his coffee at the pickup window and carefully made his way through the crowd and out of the shop. He was going to get into his black BMW, which he’d bought to keep at his Amesport house, and he
was
going to get back to work. He could have called Stokes to drive him into town, but the elderly man had already gotten himself settled into Evan’s guesthouse. He didn’t want to disturb his driver after he’d probably already gone to bed. Stokes might seem invincible and unflappable, but he wasn’t a young man anymore. Evan had found the keys to the vehicle he’d never used before and had driven himself.

Every Sinclair home on the Peninsula had a guest home, but some were bigger than others. Evan’s was relatively small. Maybe Jared had rightly guessed that Evan would never have friends visiting here. That was a depressing thought.

“Dammit!” The curse was followed by a collision with Evan’s back that nearly took him to the ground on the slick sidewalk. He quickly regained his footing, and then swung around to see a guilty-looking Randi Tyler right in front of him.

Evan’s cock hardened instantly, and his entire body tensed, a reaction he had anytime he saw Randi—an automatic, carnal response that completely annoyed him at the moment.

He glared at her as she informed him contritely, “I spilled most of my coffee on the back of your coat. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t speak as he observed her flushed cheeks and her breathless state. Her dark hair was loosely held to the back of her head by a hair clip that Evan was secretly itching to remove. Even though she had apologized, there was no fear in her beautiful hazel eyes as she met his pointed stare directly. She looked sorry, but she wasn’t afraid of him like most people usually were. She never had been.

“It’s one of my favorite coats,” he muttered huskily, not knowing what else to say. It was indeed one of his favorites, but it didn’t matter if it was stained. He had another one just like it in his closet.

Evan saw a flash of irritation in her beautiful eyes, their color so vibrant in the dim light that they reminded him of a rich milk chocolate. Her eyes changed from deep brown to a greenish tint in different lighting, but the ring and flecks within the iris remained exactly the same. No matter what color they appeared to be, they were always frustratingly gorgeous, just like the rest of her. Framed by long, velvety black lashes the same color as her hair, her gaze was nearly mesmerizing him.

“If the stain doesn’t come out, I’ll pay for it,” she told him, sounding annoyed as her chin rose stubbornly.

He highly doubted her teacher’s salary was going to cover one very expensive custom coat. “It’s just coffee.” He shrugged, but he was feeling far from nonchalant. Randi made him edgy and out of sorts. He could be charming when he had to be for fundraising or business, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words to say to a woman like her—maybe because he’d never met anyone quite like her before.

Evan nearly flinched as she licked a smudge of chocolate from her lips and held up a gooey chocolate pastry she was holding with a napkin underneath the bottom. He continued to stare at her intently as he watched her eyes close and her tongue lap up the remaining sweetness from her plump, succulent lips before retreating back into her mouth.

“I’m afraid I smudged chocolate on it, too,” she informed him solemnly, her eyes open again.

“Not a problem,” he told her in a clipped voice, knowing he’d probably let her stain every item of clothing he owned if he could just sit and watch her eat the rest of what looked like a slightly dented éclair.

One thing he’d noticed about Randi in the past was when she ate, she looked like she was having an almost orgasmic experience. She wasn’t shy, and she dug into food like she thoroughly enjoyed every bite. The pleasure she found in food showed on her face and her expressions. Evan found that odd, but fascinating.

“Hold my coffee,” she insisted as she hastily shoved the cup she was holding into his empty hand. “I have napkins.” She dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a wad of disposable paper, moving behind him to swipe at the stain on his coat. “What are you doing out here in the common population? I thought you despised anything that took you away from your business.”

“I slum it with the commoners occasionally,” Evan shot back sarcastically, automatically. Her snide comment had triggered his defenses. He glanced down at her coffee, noting that it had a double helping of whipped cream, and it looked anything but nonfat.

Throwing the napkins in a nearby trash can, Randi stood in front of him once more, her eyes shooting daggers at him. Strangely, he preferred her anger to her indifference. He had no idea why.

She took her coffee back and proceeded to take an enormous bite of her éclair as though daring him to say something about her eating junk. “Send me a bill,” she told him, her gaze challenging him.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” he told her in a sedate voice, with a calmness he wasn’t really feeling. “Maybe you could just be more careful in the future.”

“Me?” Her expression turned to one of astonishment. “I wasn’t the one who stopped right outside the door. The place is busy. You could have kept moving when you knew that people were coming in and out.”

Evan looked behind him, realizing he
had
actually stopped right outside the door. “You could have watched where you were going,” he argued, annoyed that she had a point. They’d moved away from the constant traffic to and from the coffee shop, but his abrupt stop
might
have caused her to run into him if she’d been in motion. Not that he’d admit he might be partly to blame. People watched the people in front of them where he came from, which was mostly large cities. If they were in traffic, the car in the rear would have the responsibility of stopping before it crashed into the back of the car in front. It should work the same way with people.

Randi finished her sweet treat and wiped her fingers with another napkin before depositing it into the trash, ignoring him. Finally, she replied, “I’m sorry. I’m human. I make mistakes.”

Apologetic words might be coming from her mouth, but Evan knew she was mocking him. “Perfection can be hard to achieve,” he told her mildly, knowing his arrogant statement would rile her.

She turned her back on him and began walking down the sidewalk, calling over her shoulder, “Send me a bill, Mr. Perfect. I’ll take care of my horrible aberration.”

He watched her navigate her way through the snowy walkway, wondering where in the hell she was going. Where was her vehicle? “Wait!” he called impulsively as she started to disappear in the dark. He followed her as she hesitated but didn’t turn around. He caught up to her at the curb. “Where did you park? It’s dark.”

“This is Amesport, not New York City. I’m fine,” she told him as she started walking again, navigating normally even in the dim light. “Why are you out here, anyway? The weather sucks, and it’s going to get worse. It’s brutally cold, and I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

Evan fell into step beside her. “I didn’t feel like working,” he admitted reluctantly. “Why are you still out in town?” He knew she was a teacher and got off work in the late afternoon.

“I was working at the Center and I wanted a coffee before I went home,” she said, her tone defensive. “And I was craving that éclair that I smashed on your coat.”

“I noticed you still ate it,” he observed.

She snorted. “It was
your
coat. I don’t imagine it was anything other than squeaky clean.”

She was poking fun at his attire.

Don’t let her get to you. Ignore it.

“Is your car at the Center?”

“Yes. And I’m perfectly safe. You don’t need to follow me.”

Evan felt his level of irritation rise, pushed to the limit. “Isn’t it rather ignorant to believe that bad things only happen in big cities?”

“In my experience, they usually do,” she answered quietly. “We have all kinds of visitors here, but other than the incidents with your brothers at the Center, nothing much has ever happened here in Amesport.”

“That doesn’t mean that it couldn’t,” Evan argued, the thought of anything bad happening to Randi strangely unsettling. Hell, Grady and Dante had both been injured here in Amesport by some pretty nasty men. It happened. Amesport was a tourist town. There could be all kinds of temporary crazies running around the town.

She turned to him suddenly and stopped, looking up at him in the muted illumination of the streetlights. “Look, I don’t feel like fighting with you right now. Catch me tomorrow, or any other day, and I’ll spar with you. But I’m tired. I’ve had a long day. Can you just go back to your car now and leave me alone?”

Evan looked down at her. Even without much light, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, and weariness in her expression.

They were right across the street from the Center where her car was parked.

“I won’t say a word if you don’t,” he told her uncharacteristically. For some reason, he didn’t want to see her look defeated. If they couldn’t speak without zinging each other, he’d stay silent to see her to her vehicle.

She turned without uttering a sound, crossing the street and shooting him a doubtful look as he followed.

True to his word, Evan didn’t say anything as he fell into step beside her. He wanted to ask her why she was weary, but he assumed she’d done a full day at work, and then had come to tutor as a volunteer at the Center. Obviously, if she was out this late, her workday had been long. However, he sensed there were other factors, but they were none of his business, and he didn’t want to start another verbal sparring match with her.

I feel like it’s either fight with her or pin her against the wall and fuck her until she’s out of my system.

It didn’t matter that they were out in the frigid open air. His cock was at attention, begging him to pick the second option.