The Billionaire's Secret by Jeannette Winters Page A

car waiting for me when I arrive
in Rhode Island. This is going to be a short trip so the pilot
should remain on standby. Understood?”
    Jon looked at his watch. It was nine thirty.
He should be at her home before noon. Perfect. Settle this, then he
could return back to New York and concentrate on his work—without
distraction.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The doorbell rang again. She quickly jumped
out of the shower, pulled on her robe, and grabbed some money off
the counter. The man said forty-five minutes for delivery, not
fifteen, she thought as she opened her front door. She ordered
the same thing every Sunday at the same time, eleven thirty and it
had never been delivered before noon before. Her hair was half in
her eyes and dripping wet; she hadn’t had time to towel herself
dry. Without looking at him, she handed the man at the door twenty
dollars and said, “I thought it took more time to cook a pizza.”
The man took the money but handed her nothing in return.
    “I’m disappointed. Here I thought you
answered the door half-dressed just for me.”
    God, no . It can’t be . But it
was.
    Quickly pulling the robe tightly closed
around her neck, she asked, “What are you doing here, Mr.
Vinchi?”
    “It’s Jon, and we have some unfinished
business from last night. I’m here to talk.”
    She wanted to scream, “I have nothing to say
to you,” but then she recalled Ms. Manning’s words. The company and
community were counting on her.
    “I agree, Mr. Vinchi. I would like to
apologize for my rude behavior.”
    “Do you think you can invite me in first,
and then we can talk?”
    Looking around, she saw her neighbors
staring as they walked by with their Jack Russell terrier. Now that
she’d made the local news, she was sure everyone was going to be
watching what she did for some time. Jon was right; they needed to
talk, and she did not want others to overhear her try to explain
her actions from yesterday. Which she hadn’t yet figured out how to
explain. She was still on the schedule she had set this morning:
plan today, call him tomorrow.
    Moving so he could pass by her, she said,
“Yes, of course. Please come in. We can sit in the living
room.”
    Jon entered and went to sit in a large
leather recliner near the fireplace.
    “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
    “No, thank you.”
    She could feel Jon’s eyes roaming over her.
There was no way she was going to have this conversation with him
while wearing only a robe. Even though she could see he was angry,
she could also feel the sexual tension in the room. “Can you please
excuse me for a few minutes while I make myself more presentable?”
Without waiting for an answer, she quickly scooted away to her
room. She grabbed a flowered maxi-dress out of her closet and
slipped it over her head. Thank God for simplicity, she
thought. Then she combed her still-wet hair and twisted it into a
loose bun, fastening it with a clip at the nape of her neck. Taking
a deep breath, she mustered up the courage to go back into the
living room and face Jon again.
    When she entered, she saw the veggie pizza
she had ordered sitting on the coffee table. Jon was flipping
through a photo album that usually rested on that table. She did
not like the idea of him nosing around in her personal stuff. This
was a visit about business, not pleasure.
    Taking a seat on the couch across from Jon,
she said, “Mr. Vinchi, as I was saying earlier, I would like to
apologize for my behavior last night.”
    “Just last night? What about Friday?”
    “Friday? I don’t remember being rude on
Friday. I actually think . . . ” Her tone was growing harsh. Play nice, Lizette . “I’m sorry, I don’t normally
behave like that. I was just exhausted. But that really is no
excuse for the way I spoke to you and treated you yesterday.” He
just looked at her, not saying anything. What did he want from her?
She’d apologized. “I was actually going to call you tomorrow to
apologize. I didn’t want to