The Dragon Billionaire's Secret Mate: BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (3 page)

"Yes," Theresa said. "Not that much to tell about it—we're just a little small town library. Nothing like what you do. We do have a little outreach program, though—"

She told him about the program, where men and women from the local senior's home came to read to little kids from the town. It had created some surprising connections. Theresa talked about eighty year old Gwyneth, who'd ended up bonding with little Sayesha, and babysat her four times a week now so her mom could go to school.

Samuel listened intently, asking questions a few times. Theresa couldn't imagine how her little work project could possibly be that interesting to a billionaire, but Samuel genuinely seemed to want to hear about it, so she kept talking. "We even used to have a van to drive the seniors from the home and back, but it broke down a while ago. It needs a new axle and a couple other things. The mechanic says it's gonna be over a thousand dollars even with a charity discount, and we're still collecting donations."

"You could apply to the Aurum foundation for a small grant," Samuel said. "That's exactly the kind of thing we help with."

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't tell you that to ask for a donation!" Theresa said, mortified. His friendly interest had lulled her into telling the story the way she would to a friend, and she hadn't thought about how it would come across.

"I know," Samuel said. He waved off her concern. "Seriously, I know. I'm a billionaire. After a while, you get very good at knowing when people are fishing for money. Most people do, sooner or later." He smiled. "I know you weren't, though."

There were two shrimp left on the plate. Samuel nudged it towards her. "Here, help yourself. I can always come here again."

"Oh, um, thank you," Theresa said. She always felt bad taking the last of anything. People always thought curvy women were greedy anyway, so she tried to hold herself back when she ate in company. Samuel seemed happy to watch her enjoying the food, though.

The main dish was amazingly good as well, buttery lobster meat melting on the tongue. Afterwards, Theresa felt pleasantly full without being stuffed. She leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh.

"The desserts here don't really live up to the rest of the menu, but we could get ice cream at the Navy Pier, if you like," Samuel said. "They'll have fireworks at nine. It's a little touristy, but it's a pretty spectacular show."

"I love fireworks!" Theresa said.

The sun had gone down while they'd been eating, and although earlier the sunny afternoon had made it feel almost like summer outside, now that it was dark, the air was cooling down rapidly. Theresa shivered, hugging her arms around herself. S-he'd had a jacket in her suitcase, in the trunk of her car, but she'd been too flustered to remember to take it out.

"Are you cold? Here," Samuel said. He shrugged out of his heavy coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was warm through and through from his body heat and felt heavenly on her chilled skin.

"Won't you be cold?" Theresa asked.

"Nah, I run pretty hot," Samuel said. He brushed his hand against hers for a moment, letting her feel the heat that radiated off his skin.

"Must be nice," Theresa said wistfully. She got cold all the time. If this was a real date, she could take his hand, maybe huddle up against his warmth…

But it wasn't a real date, Theresa reminded herself, and if anything she could be glad he hadn't gotten grabby with her yet. Although the more time she spent in his company, and the more she got to know him, she was starting to think she wouldn't mind him touching her at all…

The main tourist season was over, so the pier wasn't as crowded as it could have been. Samuel found them a sheltered spot, out of the chilly breeze that rose off the water, but with a good view of the lake.

"If you save our spot, I'll get the ice cream," he said. "What's your favorite flavor?"

"Oh, um. I shouldn't," Theresa said guiltily. She'd already eaten way too much today. "I mean, look at me, do I really look like a woman who needs any more calories?"

Samuel frowned. "You look like a gorgeous woman who should eat exactly as much ice cream as she feels like eating," he said. 

Theresa looked up at him, flustered. She never quite knew what to do with compliments, and he'd sounded so sincere about it. "Well, I guess one scoop won't hurt," she said.

Samuel had been right about the fireworks show: it really was spectacular. Theresa ate her ice cream and watched the bright blooms of fire explode in the sky. Samuel stretched out his arm along the back of the bench, brushing lightly against her shoulders, and the heat radiating off him kept her warm.

Theresa realized with a start that she was having a really good time. This was the nicest date she'd had in a decade. It might just be the nicest date she'd ever had in her life.

Except it wasn't a date.

Samuel was rich and gorgeous and charming. If he wanted to take a woman out to dinner and a fireworks show, all he had to do was ask. Instead, he'd offered fifty thousand dollars. Which meant there was something else he wanted, and the other shoe was probably about to drop as soon as they went back to his place.

She shivered.

"Still cold?" Samuel asked. He wrapped his arm around her. Theresa let herself lean into his warmth, and tried not to think about what secrets he might be hiding.

***

Samuel's penthouse stretched across the entire top floor of a skyscraper. The living room was an enormous open space, and the outer walls consisted entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows. Despite its size, the room was surprisingly comfortable, furnished with dark, soft-looking leather sofas, heaps of pillows and blankets inviting her to sit down and get comfortable; but it was the view that captured her attention.

"Wow." Theresa just barely managed to stop herself from pressing her nose against the glass. Beneath them, the city lights stretched out glittering all the way to the horizon. To the east, the lake lay dark and quiet, dotted with the lights of a few boats. The river snaked through the city like a dark ribbon, limned with golden dots of light.

"The view's really something, isn't it," Samuel said. He was standing beside her, looking down at Chicago with a warm smile on his face.
He loves this city,
Theresa thought.

"If the windows make you uncomfortable, I can opaque the bottom half," Samuel offered after a moment. "Some people get vertigo—"

"No, leave it. It's beautiful," Theresa said.

He let her enjoy the view for long minutes before he finally nodded towards the big leather sofa. "Do you want to sit down? Would you like a nightcap? I've got a pretty nice scotch, or we could open the rum... There's some other stuff." He went over to go through the bar in a corner of the room. She heard the clinking of bottles. "Martini, Sambuca... Lychee Liquor, um, I don't even know why I've got that…"

"Uh... the scotch, I guess," Theresa said, even though her stomach was slowly knotting into a ball of nerves, and she doubted she could get anything down.

This was it. Moment of truth. This was when he'd come out with what he really wanted.

But Samuel only sat down next to her, handed her a glass, and kept on making the same kind of light, interesting conversation he'd entertained her with all evening: talking about a bridge construction his company was involved with downtown, and then an interesting biography of Alexander Hamilton he'd read.

"They're doing a Broadway show about him now. It's supposed to be pretty good. Do you think you'd want to see it? We could take the jet up to New York on Friday, make a day of it..."

"Sure," Theresa said weakly. She felt half-hysterical with nerves. Sure, why not take the jet. The private jet. Which he owned. With the librarian from Clarksburg, who he was paying 50,000 dollars to, apparently, do nothing but sit around and have a conversation.

Just tell me!
she thought.
Tell me what you want, damn you!

"You must be tired," Samuel said, obviously noticing her increasing distraction. "I'll show you to the bedroom."

So
this
was it, then.

She would have liked to know what he wanted before they got to the bedroom. But at least she was going to find out soon, now.

The bedroom was sparsely furnished, impersonal. Not his own room, then; a guest room. It had the same floor-to-ceiling windows, the same gorgeous view as the living room.

Samuel hesitated in the doorway. After a moment he reached out, brushing his fingers through Theresa's hair. She couldn't quite help her startled flinch.

"Sorry. You had some lint," he said, showing her a piece of fluff caught in his fingers.

"Oh," she said stupidly.

"Well. Good night then," Samuel said.

"...Good night," Theresa said. It came out shaky, unsure.

Samuel gave her a smile and started closing the door. Hesitated. "There's a bolt on the inside of the door. Feel free to keep it locked at night," he added. "Sleep well."

He closed the door behind himself with a quiet click.

Theresa stared at the closed door. That was
it
? That was
all
?
Good night? Sleep well?
Everything they'd done tonight he could have done for free with any of a million women in Chicago, many of whom would have been prettier, younger, richer or more famous than Theresa was.

She pulled up her online banking account on her phone again, but no, it hadn't been some hallucination: $25,000, in black and white in her account.

No. She couldn't go to sleep like that. She wanted to know what was going on, and she wanted to know now.

***

Samuel startled when the door that had just closed behind Theresa was wrenched open again. Theresa stood in the doorway, her eyes wild. "Why don't you tell me what you want?" Theresa said. The words seemed to break out of her. Her voice cracked.

Samuel looked at her, confused.

"You're not paying me fifty thousand dollars just so you can take me out to see a fireworks show," Theresa said. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you've given me some time to get to know you, and I've had a great time, but the suspense is really killing me at this point, okay? Whatever it is, it's fine, I knew what I signed on for. Just
tell
me!"

Samuel stared at her. Had she been worried about this the entire time? "I don't want anything from you," he said. "Just—just what it said in the ad. Just your company."

Theresa snorted. "Come on. You're rich, you're good-looking. If all you wanted was company, you could get it for free."

Looking at it like that, of course her worries made sense. He'd thought he'd been clear enough in the ad, but...
God, I'm an idiot
, Samuel thought. He should have thought about this. He should have said something, explicitly. Made it clear that he didn't expect anything like that from her.

"I'm not an idiot," Theresa said. She sounded very tired. "Just tell me. I know you're not giving me that much money without something in return."

"But I am getting something. Your company," Samuel said. She looked at him in disbelief.

He sighed. "It's complicated," he said. "There's things I can't tell you. There's a reason I can't just go out with a woman. I can't... I wish I could explain it better than this. All I want is to spend some time with you. I don't expect anything more than that."

Theresa watched him with narrowed eyes. "So what you're telling me is that there's some great secret conspiracy that's keeping you from spending time with women you're not paying."

"Yes," Samuel said, wincing. It sounded ridiculous when she said it like that. I
was
ridiculous, and he couldn't possible explain it any better than this without making it sound
less
believable
. I'm a dragon shifter, and my brother's trying to stop me from finding my mate because then I could challenge his claim for alpha?
No.

Suddenly Theresa laughed, a startled, incredulous sound. "Heck, I guess I do believe you. You've been too damn nice to me to secretly be a creep."

"Wait," Samuel said, as another thought occurred to him. He went over to his office and started pulling drawers open, scrambling for his checkbook. He made out a check for $25,000 and handed it to her.

"Here," he said. "The rest of your money. If I ever do anything you don't want, anything that scares you, you take that money and leave, all right? I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable."

"You really do mean it," Theresa said, wide-eyed. She held the check with both hands, clutching it to her chest as if it might fly away. "This is crazy, you know that, right?"

"Not as crazy as you think," Samuel said. Not as crazy as she'd think the real truth was: his true nature, the power struggle he didn't want her getting caught in.

"So you can go to sleep now, and I'll be out here reading a book. No expectations," Samuel said.

Theresa slowly shook her head. "You're a very strange guy, you know that?" she said, but her eyes were warm now. She looked down at the check again, and then she looked up and smiled, the tension going out of her body. Samuel suddenly, desperately wished he could reach out and kiss her. But of course he couldn't, not after that conversation. She was going to need some time to process this, to really believe that he wasn't going to demand anything from her.