Up for Heir (Westerly Billionaire #2)

I was kind of a cute kid.

“Are those braces? You had an awkward phase? I love it.”

“End playthrough.” She was laughing, and he gave in to an undeniable urge, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him. “I’m glad you find my pain amusing. That was a long year,” he growled into her ear.

She arched back to smile up at him. “Year? Cry me a river. I had a late growth spurt. Most of my teen years I endured being asked whose little sister I was when I was hanging out with my friends.”

He would have found that image amusing if his entire body wasn’t overheating. The feel of her against him made picturing anything besides kissing her impossible. No, I won’t ruin this. I promised I wouldn’t rush her.

She must have sensed, or perhaps physically felt, the direction his thoughts had shifted to, because she stepped out of his arms. “What else does it do?”

Pretty much that. Oh, the album program.

“It can create a hologram of a person if enough images exist to complete one.”

“Show Spencer Westerly,” she said softly.

Again?

“There are two thousand one hundred photos and seven videos. Play through or merge and isolate?” the computer prompted.

“Merge and isolate,” she guessed correctly, reminding him of something she’d always done that had impressed him. She wasn’t a gamer, nor did she claim to know anything about coding programs, but she could intuitively navigate them. In fact, if she’d struggled with part of a program, he knew it required an overhaul.

“Location?” the computer asked.

“Garage,” she said.

Her request floored him in that it was identical to his search for her. Was she seeking what he had been?

The walls of the room became the walls of the garage. A three-dimensional image of Spencer appeared in a seated position. He was working so intently he didn’t notice the arrival of whoever was filming him.

His image turned, and his face transformed completely. If either of them had ever doubted how he’d felt about her back then, it was right there on his face—pure, unrestrained adoration. “Hey, Sunshine. Want to see what I’m working on?”

The program skipped her response and went to his. His eyes darkened, and he turned off the computer behind him. “On second thought, it can wait. Come here.”

Spencer remembered exactly what had followed.

“End merge and isolate,” she said quickly, revealing that she did as well.

His image faded from the garage.

The only sound in the simulator was their heavy breathing. He would have taken her then, but he had enough regrets when it came to her. Their next step would come at her request.

“End garage,” she said, and he nearly groaned aloud.

I’m a grown man. I’ll survive.

Maybe.

He was acutely aware of every breath she took, every shift of her weight. The subtle scent of her shampoo was sexier than any perfume.

“Wow,” she said in a shaken voice.

“You can say that again.” There wasn’t an inch of her he wasn’t hungry to taste. If she gave me the option, where would I start? Her mouth is heaven. But that neck. It doesn’t really matter where I start because I’d work my way down . . .

“I’ve tried to convince myself over the years that it wasn’t as good as I remember, but it was.” There was a look in her eyes he hadn’t expected. It was conflicted and sad, reminding him of the first time she’d walked away. “Maybe thinking we can re-create that is a mistake.”

Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

A defensive wall rose within him that he’d thought had washed away after seeing her again. “No one is forcing you to be with me. You want to go? Go. I don’t fucking need you.”

Hailey took another step back. “That’s not very nice.”

“I never said I was nice.”

She held his eyes for a long moment. “Who are you, Spencer? I looked you up online. I don’t know that man.”

Shaking his head in disgust, Spencer spat, “Does it matter? You’ve already made your choice.”

Instead of leaving as he expected, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I stormed away, you could blame me again. Just like the first time.”

“You’re the one who left me.”

“Because you were just as thickheaded then as you are now.”

They stood there, both breathing heavily, in a sexually charged standoff.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m doing the best I can. If that isn’t good enough—”

“Don’t go there. Don’t take the easy way out. I’m trying to tell you that I’m scared. You. This. The whole thing scares the shit out of me. I need to know if it’s real.”

“What do you want me to say, Hailey?”

She stepped toward him and laid a hand on his chest. “All I need is an honest answer. If I agree to give this a second chance, which Spencer would it be with?”





Chapter Thirteen

As an awkward silence dragged on, Hailey cursed herself for essentially vomiting her fears at his feet. “I’m sorry. That’s not a fair question.”

He held his hand over hers, where it lay on his chest. “Maybe not, but I’ve asked myself the same thing.”

“And?” She held her breath and waited.

“Partying didn’t fix anything. Avoiding my family didn’t work, either. I thought if everyone left me alone long enough, I’d feel better. No such luck. Lately I’ve been talking to my family again. I thought I had my shit together, but I don’t know.”

“You’re talking to your family again?” Maybe now is the time to tell him about Delinda.

His smile was gentle. “Some of them. What you said was a wake-up call for me.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “I didn’t mean what I said about not needing you.”

His face lowered until his lips were just above hers, but the kiss she expected didn’t come. His breath was a tickle.

I can tell him later.

“Run secluded beach three,” Spencer said.

The scenery changed around them, but Hailey didn’t care. Her body was humming with a craving only he could satisfy. A moment dragged into two. Memories marched like hot lava through any reservations she still had. This was Spencer, her Spencer, and deciding to give herself over to him felt as natural as breathing. She licked her bottom lip and tipped her head back while her eyes fluttered closed. Oh yes.

Still no kiss came.

She opened her eyes again. Desire was there in his heated gaze, but his hands hadn’t moved. One still held hers; the other was sadly at his side. “What’s wrong?” she asked, feeling foolish yet hungry to feel his mouth on hers.

“Nothing,” he said in a tight tone.

Ruth Cardello's books