Kissing a Billionaire Page 7

  “It’s yours,” Mia said, looking at Ross. “Take it.”

  Ross stared into Mia’s green eyes. He didn’t trust those eyes anymore. He stood. “No.”

  “Wait.” Troy grabbed his arm. He turned to Ross. “Hold up, just . . . wait.”

  His heart raced, but Ross didn’t move.

  Troy looked at the piece of paper, then at Mia. “How did you do this?”

  For a second, Mia didn’t say anything, then she sighed. “I told my father the land should belong to you.” She pointed to the deed. “There is a caveat for twenty percent of mineral rights going to Jagger Energy, but . . . the rest is yours.”

  Ross remembered a million memories, moments from the last week with Mia. Had anything between them been real? “I don’t want charity from you.” In his mind, that would be worse than actually having the land taken away.

  “Stop, Ross,” Troy said, standing too but staring at the piece of paper. “I think it might be okay.”

  “None of this is okay!” Ross bellowed out, feeling out of control.

  Silence reigned, and Troy gave him a startled look, then muttered a curse beneath his breath.

  “Can I have the room, please, gentlemen?” Mia asked quietly, looking at Troy and then the bank manager.

  Ross noted that the woman at the table was confident and perfectly composed, so different from the Mia he’d come to know this past week—yet she was still so similar.

  She nodded at Ross. “Mr. Charm and I have a few things to discuss.”

  Ross didn’t know what to do. His gut told him not to trust her.

  “Please?” Mia asked again.

  Troy turned to him. “What do you want to do?”

  Ross stared at her. He realized he had to know what she wanted. “Go.”

  Troy and the bank manager left without a word.

  Mia let out a breath. “Ross—”

  He put up his hand, struggling to line up his thoughts. How could he trust her? “I can’t do this.”

  “I want to be a chef. Isn’t that funny?”

  He held her gaze.

  “And I could hardly sleep last night, thinking about you.” Her voice was soft. “And Kinley. Where is Kinley?”

  His heart felt like a hammer inside of his chest. Part of him didn’t want to answer her, because it felt like she’d betrayed him.

  Her eyes misted.

  “At her cousin’s house,” he said gruffly.

  She nodded, then blinked. “Good. That’s good.”

  He thought of all the time they’d spent together.

  Mia sighed and let out a light laugh. “I told my father before this trip that I want to go to culinary school, and he told me no.” She laughed. “I have an MBA from Yale. Can you believe that?”

  Hesitating, he cocked an eyebrow. Even though he was angry and hurt, the truth was that he wanted to hear about her, to know her. Even through all of his anger last night as he’d tossed and turned before falling into a fitful sleep, dreaming of Mia . . . he couldn’t stop all the questions he had about her. “Can’t you be a chef and . . . whatever you are?”

  Her lips pursed in a tight smile. “The funny thing is that I never wanted to marry or have kids. I mean, I had a guy who basically used me because I was a Jagger.” She looked sad. “I was wrapped up in what my father wanted. In the company. In what everyone else wanted me to be.” She blinked and then focused on him. “He sent me on this trip to check out your property, but the truth is that I was longing for head space. I told him—I told all of them—I needed a break. But . . .”

  His heart beat out of his chest, and he wanted to ask so many questions. “But what?”

  “I was also trying to be undercover.”

  “What?” he was confused.

  “I . . . just wanted to check out the ranch and then have some time to relax. Some time not to be Mia Jagger for a while.”

  He scoffed, thinking he wanted to be angry with her, but it was pointless. “Guess you got lots of head space.”

  She let out a sad sigh. “Yes, I did. And I met you. I went to your ranch and cooked and played with”—her voice broke—“your beautiful little girl.”

  With a pang, Ross thought about how devastated Kinley had been when Mia had left last night. She’d moped around, then told him she was going to bed because she wanted to forget how sad she was. He swallowed back emotion.

  “It might sound stupid and completely ridiculous, but when I remembered my dad and my brothers, it was . . . it was like that life was the dream and this life was the real one.” A tear fell down her cheek. “You were my real life. And . . . I wanted the life with you.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Like you were Sleeping Beauty?”

  She smiled back and reached out, taking his hand across the conference table. “And you woke me up when you touched my hand, and you were my Prince Charming.”

  “Oh brother.” He started to pull back.

  She didn’t let go. “Wait.”

  For a moment, they simply stared into each other’s eyes, and time slowed down.

  She released his hand. “Just stay there.” She stood, moving around the table and coming to his side.

  He stood too.

  She took his hand again. The smell of light vanilla filled his senses, and attraction sizzled through him. His heart raced, and he could only think about how different she seemed, yet the same. “Ross.”

  He thought of the title to the land. He would never be Prince Charming for a woman like her. “I won’t accept charity,” he said.

  “Just listen, please. I know it’s fast. I know you might not want this, but I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime with you already. I trusted you since the moment I opened my eyes, since before I knew my own name.”

  The warmth of her words pierced his heart, and he took her other hand. “I know.”

  She laughed and then blinked. “I love you, Ross. I know it might be too fast. I know my father and brothers don’t believe it could be this fast—well, except James.” She shrugged. “We’re the closest, and he’s a romantic. Anyway . . . I love you, and I couldn’t let the ranch be taken from you and Kinley. Don’t you see? There was no way I could let that happen.”

  A myriad of thoughts ran through his mind, but he focused on the truth. “I really can’t be a charity case.”

  With a smirk, she said, “Oh, you mean like I have been the past ten days? And you took me in, and you helped me?”

  “That was different,” he protested.

  “How?”

  Warmth rushed into his chest, and he finally relaxed, hating that this woman was so good and so brave. “It just was.” He pulled her into him, not knowing what to say but unable not to hold her.

  They stayed like that for a long time.

  He pulled back, staring at her lips. “I love you too, by the way.” He laughed. “I didn’t want to. I tried to fight it.”

  She leaned up, pressing her lips to his.

  Fire exploded through him, and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

  She linked her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

  For a moment, he was lost.

  And found.

  She pulled back, tears on her cheeks. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  He let out a laugh and held her. “My undercover billionaire.”

  She laughed, then her face got serious. “Marry me,” she said simply, quietly.

  Jerking back, he stared into her eyes, unbelieving. “What?”

  “Marry me, Ross Charm, and make me an official princess.”

  He couldn’t believe she was doing this. “I . . .”

  “Don’t let your ego get in the way. Okay? I have . . . like, billions, so you can’t have an ego about any of this.”

  It was so hard for him to even process that. But he could process the first part. “No.”

  She frowned. “No?”

  Sudden purpose went through him. “It’s not going down like this. You’re r
ight. I’m too arrogant to let this be our story.” He got down on one knee and took her hand. “I have to do this right. Will you marry me, Mia Jagger?” He lifted his brows, then sucked in a breath. “Wow, the Jagger name is a lot to get used to.”

  She laughed, crying even harder. “Do you mean it?”

  Certainty pulsed through him. “Don’t make me ask again, Red,” he whispered.

  She laughed. “Okay, then yes.”

  As they kissed, all he could think about was how he knew it wouldn’t be easy, it wouldn’t be a fairy-tale . . . but . . .

  “It’s real,” she said, pulling back from him.

  She seemed to read his thoughts. Satisfaction washed over him, and he took her hand into his more securely. “And real is better than any fairy-tale.”

  She laughed. “Yes, it is.”

  James Jagger stood at his sister’s wedding reception, unable to believe she’d married a cowboy from Casper, Wyoming.

  Mia had insisted that the wedding would be on the ranch, and there was a huge tent and tables and pink and white lights and a country band playing in the background. There were children running around laughing and holding sparklers.

  “Not a New York kind of wedding, is it?” His father stood next to him, yanking uncomfortably at his tux tie and beads of sweat falling down his face.

  James grinned, part of him satisfied that his father didn’t like this wedding. “Not New York at all.” He pointed to the tables filled with cake. “Did you know she made her own cake?” James was proud of her.

  A slight smile swept over his father’s face. “It’s good, too,” he said a bit resentfully. “Our Mia doesn’t go halfway, does she?”

  James detected a sense of pride in his father’s voice, even if it was a tad of annoyance too. James took a sip of his water. “She’s happy, Dad; isn’t that what you want for her?”

  An irritated expression crossed his father’s face. “No.” He puffed out a breath, then laughed. “Not if her happiness is away from me.”

  James laughed too. His father was very much controlling of his children, and Mia suddenly leaving the company had been hard for him. “It’ll work out.”

  His father sucked in a breath, looking around. “They do seem happy, don’t they? Almost like they know some secret the rest of us don’t know.”

  James averted his eyes to where his father was looking and saw Mia and Ross twirling on the dance floor. Right at this moment, Mia threw her head back, laughing. The center of James’s chest warmed. “I want to know that secret.”

  His father sighed. “I guess this place will have to do then.” He shrugged, pointing to some land a couple acres out. “Maybe we can put a landing strip in for our plane.”

  James grinned, thinking Mia thought she would have privacy but what she didn’t realize is their father would just make her more accessible to him. “So you’re giving in to her living away so easily?”

  His father laughed and their eyes met, because both of them knew his father didn’t give in.

  “Grandpa, will you dance with me?” a little voice called out, moving to his father’s side.

  Kinley wore a pink dress layered with chiffon. She was precocious, and she’d won all the Jagger men over instantly, especially his father.

  At this moment, his father’s lips turned up, and he crouched down, grinning at the little girl who, James thought, had made short work of wrapping the billionaire around her pinky. “Why, I would be honored, young lady.”

  She grinned and threw her arms around him. “Yay.”

  His father laughed and looked up at him. “I think I gave up the moment I met her.”

  Warmth filled James’s chest.

  His father pulled Kinley’s arms back and stood. “Do you know the Foxtrot?”

  She giggled, her little blond ponytails jiggling. “No.”

  “Well,” his father said, “every Jagger girl must learn the Foxtrot.”

  She frowned. “But I’m a Charm, Grandpa.”

  His dad’s face went serious, and he bent to look her in the eye. “Yes, you are. And Charm is a good name. But”—he tweaked her nose gently—“now you are a Jagger too. And I already love you.”

  His father’s words shocked James.

  “You do?” Kinley threw her arms around his neck again.

  His father laughed. “I do, so let’s Foxtrot.” He stood, and they walked to the dance floor, Kinley partially skipping.

  Unable to believe his father had softened so quickly, James fell into step with them. “You’re pretty amazing, Dad.”

  His father winked at him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  They got to the dance floor, and his father stopped, turning to James, keeping Kinley’s hand inside of his. “Do you want to know the real secret to Mia and Ross’s happiness?”

  James yanked to a stop, and his heart raced; his father had that look he got. The look that told him what he was about to say was important. “Okay.”

  “No one knew she was . . . a Jagger.” His father nodded at Ross. “Especially not him. It allowed them to find true love first. Not have everything get so clouded with the business or money.”

  “Okay, old man, now you’re getting out of hand. True love?”

  “Grandpa! Foxtrot!”

  His father laughed. “Okay.” He gave James a nudge. “You know what I wish for all of you?”

  “What?”

  His dad nodded at Mia. “That you could all fall in love without anyone knowing who you really were.”

  James didn’t pay that close of attention as his father started into some Foxtrot moves and Kinley laughed.

  It was a good night.

  A win for the Jagger family.

  Little did James know, three months later . . . he would be reading about this secret . . . in his father’s last will and testament . . .

  Dear Mia and boys,

  If you’re reading this something went wrong. Well, it was probably my heart. I knew it was going out on me. And you’re probably mad I didn’t tell you.

  But let the old man have one last say, would you? Listen up . . . to get your shares in the company, here’s what you have to do:

  Mia, since you have Mr. Charm, I need you to relocate and run the company for one year. I’m sorry about this. I know you and Ross like the ranch. Tell Kinley I’m sorry, too. But maybe she’ll like New York a little.

  Boys—here are your instructions:

  Leave the company for one year.

  Leave all your belongings behind.

  Go to some anonymous town.

  Don’t be a Jagger.

  Fall in love.

  Check out the next romance by Taylor Hart!

  Visit Taylor Hart’s Amazon Author Page:

  Taylor Hart is a best-selling author of contemporary romance, sweet romance, and light suspense romance novels. Her acclaimed Last Play Romance and Bachelor Billionaire Romance Series will leave you wishing for more strong heroines and swoon-worthy men.

  A little about Taylor, she has always been drawn to a good love triangle, hot chocolate and long conversations with new friends. Writing has always been a passion that has consumed her daydreams and forced her to sit in a trance for long hours, completely obsessed with people that don't really exist. Taylor would have been a country star if she could have carried a tune--maybe in the next life.

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  Amanda Wurst.

  Nope. Couldn’t hide a name like that.

  Five-foot-eleven.

  Again. Hard to conceal. And heels had never been an option.

  Childhood stutter.

  Speech therapy had cured that, except in times of extreme stress.

  “And I’m not stressed,” Mandy said to the mirror in the nicest bathroom she’d ever be in. What did it matter that she was currently standing in the ladies’ powder room on the eighteenth floor of Lodestone Capital & Holdin
gs, where she was about to present her business plan to a roomful of venture capitalists?

  Shark Tank had nothing on this group.

  But the fact was, Mandy was sweating. The cream silk blouse she’d bought at 75% off was probably ruined. At least the pale-gray dress suit she wore hadn’t wrinkled on the Uber ride over to the building.

  Mandy rested her hands on the cool marble countertop. She should have gotten that manicure, but she’d run out of time. And it hadn’t helped that she’d panicked at eleven last night and spent three hours completely revising her PowerPoint.

  “You’ve got this,” Mandy whispered, lifting her gaze from her natural nails and meeting the reflection of her hazel eyes in the mirror. She’d splurged on her favorite hair products. Her thick auburn hair was unruly and prone to frizziness in the best of times. And in the worst of times, well, Mandy wore hats.

  But her hair had miraculously stayed in its sleek chignon, thanks to her roommate and forever best friend, Daisy, who was a hairdresser by day and a gamer geek by night. Daisy had tried to get Mandy to join the online world of quests and secret missions, but the pressure of the fast-action games made her jumpy.

  Besides, at nearly twenty-nine, Mandy figured she should have her life on track. Her future secured. If nothing else, at least more than $908.92 in her savings account. Ironic, because Mandy was an accountant by profession, but she could never seem to save the standard six months of emergency income. She’d tried budgeting software and budgeting apps, and nothing had worked. Until now.

  Mandy had spent every night for the past eight months developing an app to track spending. But it wasn’t the typical budgeting app. It was an app for the busy, traveling professional; it not only sorted expenses but made recommendations based on the best prices in whichever location you lived. The app allowed you to connect with services that catered to your spending habits.

  Mandy hated when she arrived in an unknown city and had no idea where to eat, where to shop, or which sites to visit first. Especially when she went to a company conference on her own, and she didn’t have a group of people to travel around with. She usually ended up eating too-heavy or weirdly spiced food at the overpriced hotel restaurant.