He wished with everything he was that he could rewind the clock, back to that day with the Road Warriors when everything had spiraled so far out of control. But he couldn't have a do-over. He hadn't saved that kid. He hadn't saved the Road Warriors.
And he sure as hell hadn't saved his own soul.
Will couldn't stand the thought of hurting Harper in any way. He would never forgive himself if he did. And yet, everything inside of him rebelled at the thought of letting her walk permanently out of his life. Somehow, he needed to find a way to get closer to her while still keeping her safe.
He'd walked a lot of fine lines in his life, but he had a feeling this one just might be the trickiest line of all. Not to mention the most important.
Will's computer beeped. Midnight. Time for his call. He clicked it into life and a grizzled face appeared on the screen.
"Mr. Franconi, I hope you are having a pleasant evening. I received your email. And the attachments."
Though he lived in Italy, Rupert Rivoli was French, and his lilting accent had turned to gravel with age and cigars. He could have been anywhere from fifty to eighty. His skin was slightly sallow and dark pouches bloomed beneath his eyes. But he was the best of the best. After getting his contact info from Daniel, Will had researched the man. Rupert had been a master craftsman at Maserati--a miracle worker.
Will had a miracle of his own he wanted the man to perform. "Can it be done, Rupert? Can you make me a Birdcage Maserati kit?"
"Of course it can be done, Mr. Franconi." He sounded almost offended. "It is only a matter of money. And time."
"Money is no object. And I'll pay to have it as quickly as possible."
"You understand I will have to coordinate my work with commissioning the engine, transmission, and other parts. It is not a small undertaking, Mr. Franconi."
"That's why I'll pay you whatever you need to get it done. We can start with the chassis and sheet metal pieces. Then I'll need to lay in all the wiring. You can take longer to get the engine and transmission. Tell your crew I'll give a bonus for early delivery."
The older man wagged his head, staring down at the schematics Will had sent. "These will have to be modified for what you want."
During the past couple of days, Will had combed the Internet for a similar racing model. What he wanted, though, was much more specialized. "You're the only man who can do this." It wasn't flattery, it was true.
"I will try, Mr. Franconi, but my shop has customers."
Rupert's shop was damn near a factory. He was the largest employer in his small town. He had a reputation for overseeing every project like a hawk. Will had a feeling the man would be so intrigued by the project that he'd do a lot of the work himself.
"I'm willing to pay to get this design first in line. I'll even pay your customers a wait fee, if that's what it takes."
"You make an offer a man cannot refuse. But what is the penalty if I discover I cannot deliver on time?"
There was always a penalty clause. But Will was asking for a miracle. "No penalty. Just give me your honest estimate, and I'll work with that. Keep in mind that this is a present for a teenage boy. And I don't want him disappointed." Which was why Will would approach Harper about the car after it was a done deal. He didn't want to get Jeremy's hopes up only to crush them later.
Rupert nodded gravely. "Your son is a lucky boy."
"Not my son. A friend."
"Then he is very lucky to have a friend like you. I will do my best. You will hear from me by the end of the week."
Will was the lucky one. For the first time in years, he felt major excitement stirring in his gut. It was partly the new project. It was partly doing something that would mean so much to someone else. It would be the look on Jeremy's face when he invited the kid to help build the Birdcage Maserati.
But most of all, it was Harper.
*
Working from home, Harper's Thursday morning had been so full with phone interviews and follow-ups for her recruiting company that she hadn't even folded the weekend's laundry. Too often, she didn't finish putting away the previous week's clean clothes before she had to wash the current week's dirty ones.
She pushed her hair out of her face as she stared in dismay at the mess in the family room. On the coffee table, Jeremy's coloring book and crayons were a hodgepodge of color. The kitchen bar was littered with papers, lists, notes, and several days' worth of junk mail. She really needed to weed out the important stuff and toss the rest. But housecleaning was always at the bottom of the to-do list.
This afternoon, she told herself. And this time she meant it.
Now, where was the Gordon resume? She could have sworn it was on the dining table, which served as her desk. Back in the dining room, she sat down at her computer to reprint the resume.
She hadn't been quite this disorganized in the past when she'd gone into an office every day, but at home things sometimes got away from her. Jeremy often dropped his notebook on top of her work, and he'd been known to accidentally grab her papers along with his homework. He'd also been using the computer to email Will, who had come up with the brilliant idea to use Skype, too.
Will.
He always told Jeremy to tell her he said hi, but Harper hadn't spoken directly to Will since their dinner at Cannelli's. Not since she'd thrown herself at him by the water temple...and then completely freaked out.
She was still embarrassed at the way she'd acted on their first--and only--date. Throwing herself at a man, and then flip-flopping back to being stone cold, wasn't like her at all. She wanted to apologize for her behavior at the same time that she wished she could forget all about it.
In any case, it was very nice of Will to continue corresponding with Jeremy even though he didn't want to go out with her again. And it was all for the best that they didn't become more deeply involved, of course. It was taking everything she had to keep her and Jeremy's life together as it was. She didn't need to add a complication like Will Franconi to her personal life.
Unfortunately, just because she didn't need something didn't mean she didn't want it...
"Okay, stop thinking." Especially when her thoughts were going round and round in circles about a man she could never have. "You've got work to do."
She'd just found the resume buried deep in her email inbox and was about to print it out again when the doorbell rang. She glanced at her watch. Had she forgotten an appointment? Or maybe it was Trish?
Harper opened the door to find Will standing there, beyond scrumptious in a dark suit, charcoal shirt, and black tie. He had been mouthwatering in jeans, but in a suit and tie...oh my...he was downright edible. She felt the impact, and the heat of him, low in her belly.
Like a match striking to life with a sizzle and a hiss.
CHAPTER TEN
"What are you doing here?" Harper realized how rude it sounded as soon as the words came out, but fortunately Will didn't seem at all put off.
"I was on my way to a meeting. But I wanted to talk to you about a new project first."
"A new project?"
"It's for Jeremy."
"Jeremy," she echoed, still feeling totally off balance at his unexpected visit.
"May I come in?"
She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. The house. The mess. She was about to be a whole lot more embarrassed in a minute. But Will's visit was about Jeremy, so she couldn't leave him standing outside.
"Of course." She opened the door wide, gesturing him inside.
The foyer was a muddle of sneakers. She made Jeremy remove his shoes when he came in, and he never seemed to wear the same pair until several were scattered about. To the right of the front hall, the dining room table held its usual clutter.
She caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. Her hair was brushed, thank God, but she hadn't put on a speck of makeup, and she'd dressed in leggings, an oversized green sweater that hung to her thighs, and very unsexy striped toe socks.
"Sorry, I was working," she said
to try to explain away the piles of folders and papers. "Can I get you some coffee?" Too late, after he nodded, she realized she couldn't take him back there, with the overflowing laundry, the upended box of crayons, the untidy breakfast bar. And the full kitchen sink. "I'll be back in a minute. Why don't you have a seat in the living room?" It was the only neat room in the house because she and Jeremy never used it.
"You don't have to bring it to me," Will said. "I can pour." And when he followed her down the hall, there was no way to stop him other than throwing herself at him again...a thought that was far too tempting.
"Sorry," she felt compelled to say again as she spread her arms to encompass the whole misbegotten family room. "I'm not usually this messy."
"I meant it when I said that you don't have to keep apologizing to me. Not for anything." He put a finger to her lips, zinging her with an electric jolt of awareness that stopped her breath right in her chest. "If you don't stop apologizing soon, I promise I'm going to have to find another way to make you stop."
She knew she shouldn't do it, shouldn't push him to see if he meant it, shouldn't do anything to encourage his interest in her...but just as she hadn't been able to say no to a dinner with him, now she couldn't keep the word "Sorry," from leaving her lips.
Saying the word again was a dare, one he immediately rose to, as he pressed his mouth to hers for one perfect second. "Like I said, I always keep my promises." She was still trying to find her breath when he asked, "Mugs?"
With her brain still muddled from the teeny, tiny little kiss he'd just given her, she somehow managed to send a signal to her hands to point to the cupboard. Will pulled down one flowered mug and one with black and white stripes.
He filled the flowery mug with coffee from the pot on her counter, then stared into the other one. "There's something in this cup."
"It's a zebra." By the time she came around him and reached into the cupboard, her synapses were firing again, thank God. Though she still didn't understand why he'd kissed her if he was only here to discuss something that concerned her brother. "There's also a giraffe, an elephant, and a tiger." She pulled down the mugs to show him the ceramic creatures in each. "Jeremy likes the surprise at the bottom of the cup. I have to admit I like them, too."
"I'd rather be the tiger," Will said with complete seriousness, and poured into that mug instead.
She laughed, and when he grinned with her, a great deal of the tension she'd been feeling since she'd opened the door and found him standing there vanished. Especially when he said, "I like your brother a lot."
"Me, too." And I also like you, she couldn't help but add silently.
Will leaned back against the counter. "So here's what I propose. I finished the Cobra several months ago, and I'm ready to build a new car. I'm getting a Maserati kit, and I'd like Jeremy to help me with it, if that's okay with you."
Her mouth dropped open before she could stop it. "You mean a Birdcage Maserati? The one he's been dying for?"
"That's the one."
"But you said they don't make kits like that."
He shrugged. "I found someone who can pull it all together for me."
He made it sound so easy, but she knew it couldn't be. "That must cost a fortune. I can't let you spend that kind of money on my brother."
"I don't waste my money," he told her, "but I do like knowing I have it to spend on things that are important to me. The fact that this kit car is important to Jeremy, too, makes it worth even more. I wanted to talk to you about it before I mentioned it to him, though."
Harper knew how thrilled Jeremy was with this new friendship. Will was his first real male friend, not someone Harper had brought home. They didn't just talk about cars, but sometimes veered off into other guy things, like sports and action movies. She couldn't count the number of times she'd heard her brother invoke Will's name over the last few days.
"Look, that's very nice of you, but--" She put her mug down, stepped back, and forced herself to forget that she was talking to a powerful billionaire who was so sexy he made her knees weak. She needed to be totally honest right now. "My brother really likes you. And when you get tired of him, he's going to be hurt."
Will's expression was unreadable as he repeated, "When I get tired of him?"
"Talking to him on Skype. Buying a car to work on together. That's the kind of thing a father does. Or a brother. But you're neither of those things. And I know there must be a thousand other important things that you could be doing instead of hanging out with him. So since I don't understand your intentions, how can I not worry that he'll end up hurt?"
Will set down the tiger mug and held her gaze. "First of all, when Jeremy wrote to me, his enthusiasm came through loud and clear on the page. His attitude is refreshing and like I said, I like him." He moved in on her, one step, then two. "So where Jeremy is concerned, I don't have any intentions except to build a car I believe he'd enjoy helping me with." One more step, and he had her backed up against the breakfast bar.
"But with you?" He gently cupped her jaw, stroking it with his thumb, which left a trail of sparks in its wake. "I have a hell of a lot of intentions for you, Harper. So many you wouldn't believe it. So many I've been going crazy giving you that time you said you needed after our first date."
Her heart stuttered and stopped, then beat as wildly as it had speeding along in his car with the top down. As crazily as it had the moment she'd grabbed his shirt and dragged his mouth down to hers.
"I intend to touch you." He slid his hand lower to bracket her throat loosely, his fingers a light caress that turned her skin hot. "I intend to make you moan with pleasure."
She leaned back, gripping the counter behind her. Her legs seemed so weak that she was barely able to stay upright as he bent his head until his lips were only a breath away.
"I intend to kiss you so slowly, so thoroughly, that you'll be begging me to never, ever stop."
Didn't he know every inch of her already burned for him, inside and out? He was a master of the slow, agonizing caress, and everything inside seemed to be melting, every part of her burning up.
She felt the moistness of his breath along the shell of her ear. He inhaled slowly, scenting her, his chest rising, but he didn't press against her, didn't let her feel the rest of his body, which somehow made it all the more sensual and erotic.
"And I intend for you to have your taste of me, too." Those wicked hands of his skimmed down her sides, barely touching but laying down fiery tracks of heat nonetheless. "As much of me as you want, Harper. As much of me as you need."
She almost whimpered, almost said yes.
Yes, please.
She had to hold onto the breakfast bar behind her for dear life...otherwise she was in danger of leaping on him and begging for everything he promised.
She wanted him now. Needed him now. Was crazy for him now. And all she had to do was take--put her hands on him and take.
But right then, he stepped back, giving her room to breathe again.
Barely.
"Now you know my intentions for both of you." His voice was low, intense. He backed up two more steps, then added, "As for Jeremy, I'm guessing he might learn some new skills. It could be good for him to have a man around. I should have the first shipment of parts a week from Saturday."
When he put it that way, she felt churlish for saying no. Especially when she knew he was right, that working on the kit car together could be good for Jeremy. Her brother had blossomed around Will, even if it was only chatting on Skype in the evenings. Did she have the right to deny him this opportunity? She wanted to watch out for him, but she didn't mean to stifle him, too.
Harper took a deep breath, one that didn't give her nearly enough oxygen to make up for all that Will's hot words had just stolen from her. "Okay, I'll let you work with Jeremy on the car. I know he'll be ecstatic when you tell him. But as for you and me..." She licked her lips and, despite the desperate need racing through her, forced herself to tell him, "I know I might h
ave given you some mixed signals the other night--" And again today when I all but dared you to kiss me. "--and I regret doing that, but I still can't date you."
"Can't?" He raised an eyebrow, the dark heat still in his eyes. "Or won't?"
She raised an eyebrow right back at him, even though she wasn't doing a good job tamping down the heat glowing inside her. "Is there a difference?"
"Can't means you're already with another guy and aren't available to date me. Won't means you still don't trust me enough to let me take you out again."
"We had a nice dinner, and you've been very sweet to my brother, but I don't know you, Will. All I know are your intentions." Very wicked ones, at that. Deliciously wicked, some might say.
"I'm not asking you to decide about us today, but I am asking you to give me another chance before you make up your mind about whether to shut me down or not."
He held her gaze for another long moment, letting her see his desire--and something more. Something she couldn't quite define, but that touched her all the same. Maybe because it mirrored the longing for him she couldn't figure out how to stop feeling.
"I like you, Harper. I like how straightforward you are. I like how smart you are. I like how you care so deeply for your brother."
She was nearly speechless from all the wonderful things he'd just said about her. Had any other man ever noticed--or appreciated--so much about her? Or thrown her quite so far off her game all at the same time?
"And I sure as hell like kissing you and holding you in my arms." With that, he pushed away from the kitchen counter and said, "I'd like to tell Jeremy about the Maserati kit when he calls tonight, if that's all right with you."
Even if she knew that she needed to say no on her own account, she couldn't say no for her brother. "That's fine with me."
"And will you be able to bring him over the Saturday after next to start the work?"
"Yes."
But she honestly wasn't sure whether she was saying yes for Jeremy.
Or for herself.
*
Will punched the gas and veered around a slow car in the fast lane as he headed away from Harper's house and to his office. The Lamborghini shot ahead, and the burst of speed was a rush.
But it wasn't anywhere close to the rush he'd felt with Harper.