The Passionate One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Read online

  They had to be back in New York on Friday, so Erin packed only an overnight bag and took it with her to rehearsal Tuesday morning. After they were finished, they jumped into a car Brennan had hired and drove directly to LaGuardia airport.

  Erin had been expecting him to pay through the nose for last-minute tickets, maybe even spring for first class. What she had not expected, was the private jet waiting on the tarmac.

  “You’re kidding me.” She threw him a wide eyed look.

  “Nope. C’mon.” He reached for her hand to help her from the car.

  Erin hung back. “This is too much,” she protested. “I never expected you to ... I never asked you to.”

  “I know, silly.” Brennan grinned. “Now come on. They’re waiting.”

  The pilot, in a charcoal-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and a neatly-knotted navy blue tie, waited at the bottom of the short flight of steps. “Watch your head, ma’am,” he cautioned as Erin climbed the steps and entered the plane.

  The cabin was laid out to maximize every inch of space and outfitted with plush gray carpet and seats of soft black leather. The lighting was dim, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla.

  “How about there?” Brennan pointed toward a bench seat for two.

  “Would you like something to drink?” The pilot came in behind them and opened a large cabinet stocked with bottles of liquor.

  “Water?” Erin asked hesitantly, feeling a little foolish for wanting plain old water when there were other, more sophisticated choices.

  The pilot smiled and handed her a glass bottle of ice-cold Voss water from the small refrigerator built into the cabinet. “Please make yourselves comfortable; we’re scheduled to depart shortly,” he said as he left them alone.

  Erin looked around the empty cabin. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Who else?” Brennan asked as he shoved his luggage into a cabinet.

  “The other people on this flight.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Just us tonight.”

  Oh.

  She glanced around the luxurious cabin, large enough to seat ten. How much was this costing Brennan? And what was it going to cost her?

  So far, Brennan seemed content to let her set the pace of their relationship. They hadn’t gotten beyond kisses, and he didn’t object when Erin told him they would be staying in separate rooms at her parents’ house. Dinner, shows, and outings were okay, but a private jet definitely took their relationship to a new level. Was he trying to send her a message? Or was he simply Brennan, laid-back and loaded and enjoying himself?

  Fifteen minutes later, they were ready to go. Erin buckled in and peered out the window as the little plane taxied down the runway and lifted off. New York City spread out below in a blanket of lights. The Empire State Building was lit for Christmas with red and green and the Chrysler Building shone like a silver needle, contrasting with the deeper yellow of the streetlights, which turned the city’s streets into rivers of molten gold. Times Square was a sea of flashing billboards and Central Park was a dark rectangle, its paths and trails outlined by cool white lights that glowed softly.

  Brennan leaned forward to see past her shoulder. His breath tickled her neck. “See that?” he said softly. “All those glittering lights are for you tonight.”

  Erin shook her head. “Those are for Harlowe. She’s the star, not me.”

  “I’m not talking about the play.” Brennan smiled. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’ll get there.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer and she forgot about the play for a while.

  Erin’s older brother, Dalton, met them at the airport.

  “Mom’s completely hyper,” he warned them after they’d stowed the bags and he was maneuvering the big, black SUV into traffic. “She was thrilled when you could come for Thanksgiving, but when you said you were bringing a boy, she totally lost her mind.”

  Erin sighed and threw Brennan an apologetic look. “Better be prepared for some awkward questions. Sorry.”

  He chuckled. “No worries. Isn’t that what mothers are for?”

  Dalton wasn’t wrong by much. Despite the late hour, their mother was waiting up, dressed in a chocolate-brown pencil skirt and a cream blouse. Her light brown hair was styled in a long bob, and her makeup was perfect.

  “I am so happy to meet you,” she gushed, planting kisses on both of Brennan’s cheeks. “I’ve always been a huge fan.”

  That was debatable. Erin wasn’t sure if her mother had even known Brennan Avery existed before he’d joined the cast in Morgantown. But she wasn’t going to argue.

  “Erin can have her old room and, Brennan, I have the room in the guest wing all ready for you.” Erin’s mom bounced down the hall, motioning for them to follow.

  Finally, everyone was situated and the house settled down for the night. Erin had changed into her pajamas and was brushing her hair when a soft knock sounded on her door. “Just a second,” she called, glancing at her black pajama pants printed with penguins and faded gray-and-white baseball T-shirt. Not exactly the most flattering thing for Brennan to see her wearing.

  Who was she kidding? He’d seen worse, like the practice hoops, or Charlotte’s giant mourning cloak and bonnet that made her feel like a mushroom.

  She pulled the door open.

  Dalton stood on the other side, two cups of steaming hot cocoa in his hands.

  “Oh, hi!” she said in surprise. “I thought you were Brennan.”

  Her brother was five years older and fully a foot taller than Erin. They had the same creamy skin and brown eyes and when Erin’s hair wasn’t dyed—which was never—they even had the same light brown, slightly wavy locks. “Sorry,” he said. “Want me to go wake Dreamboat and send him instead?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. And don’t call him Dreamboat.” She ushered Dalton into her room and shut the door. “So what’s up?”

  “Nothing much.” He shrugged and handed her a cup of cocoa. “Just thought it would be good to catch up without mom and dad around. Or Dreambo—the boyfriend,” he amended, seeing Erin’s scowl.

  Erin sat at the desk where she used to do homework and tucked her bare feet under her. She took a sip from her mug and nodded at her brother in approval. “You always were the master of the cocoa.”

  “I can, yo-yo, make a wicked cup of cocoa,” Dalton said in his best Mrs. Doubtfire voice.

  Erin laughed. “Pretty good. Maybe you should be an actor.”

  “Nope, that’s one hundred percent your gig.” Dalton took a seat on the lavender-and-green comforter on Erin’s bed and blew on his own mug of cocoa to cool it. “So my baby sis is a Broadway baby, huh?” He flashed her a proud smile.

  “Well, technically it’s off-Broadway,” Erin corrected. “The theater is too small to be officially called Broadway.”

  “Nuance,” Dalton shrugged. “No one cares about that but you theater geeks. How do you like playing Jane?”

  Erin, who was in the middle of a sip, choked and had to hammer on her chest a few times before she could reply. She hadn’t yet confessed her mistake to her family and admitted she’d been demoted from Charlotte to Jane when the play moved to New York. Even though Mona said her audition for Charlotte had gone well, they’d still opted to cast Harlowe Turner, an established Broadway actress who could add her star power to Brennan’s.

  “How did you hear about that?” Erin asked when she could finally speak.

  Dalton rolled his eyes. “Uh, I’m not sure you’re aware, but I can read. All the publicity they’ve been doing reaches even our little back-wood neighborhood, thanks to the internet.”

  “Okay, sorry,” Erin said, properly chastised. “I guess I hoped no one would find out.”

  “Why? Afraid Mom and Dad would be disappointed?”

  “Maybe a little,” Erin swallowed hard. The truth was, she knew they’d been disappointed—a lot disappointed—and even though rationally she knew she couldn’t keep it from them forever, a tiny part of
her had hoped it would slip by, especially since she’d also been cast as Harlowe’s understudy. If they ever came to see the show, she’d planned to convince Harlowe to take the night off.

  Her brother’s chocolate-brown eyes were full of compassion. “Oh sweetie. They’re proud of you no matter what.”

  “No, I’m the screw-up who can’t keep it together while you and Toph are off conquering the world.”

  Dalton forced a laugh. “Yeah right. Maybe Toph is off conquering the world, but I’m the loser who never left home.”

  “Because you’re running the business,” Erin countered loyally. Her heart twisted to see the self-mockery on Dalton’s face. “You know Dad couldn’t do it without you.” With Christopher in medical school and her off treading the boards, somebody had to step in and take over. Dalton had always been the dutiful big brother.

  “You brought home a man this year. Mom’s bound to give you extra points,” Dalton pointed out.

  “Yeah.” Erin bristled on behalf of feminists everywhere. “Brennan’s a great guy; it just sucks that that’s what she’ll focus on.”

  “I know,” Dalton said soothingly. “But what do you do? Mom is Mom. She won’t be happy until we’re all married and with four or five kids for her to spoil.” He gave her a long look. “Though I am kind of surprised things didn’t work out with you and Matt. I thought for sure he was your guy.”

  “No. We’re just friends,” Erin said, working to keep her voice steady.

  “Oh.” Dalton shrugged. “I guess from the way you always talk about him, it seemed like more than friendship to me.”

  “I don’t ... didn’t—always talk about him,” Erin protested.

  He rolled his eyes. “Please. It’s like you two were joined at the hip.”

  Erin paused. Really? She couldn’t remember ever making a point of including Matt in her conversations with her family. Was he so much a part of her life that he was naturally there, without her even recognizing it? Well, maybe it used to be that way, but it certainly wasn’t anymore.

  “Does this have anything to do with the silly promise you made at girl’s camp? After you came home that year, you wouldn’t shut up about your plan to marry a millionaire.”

  “Billionaire,” Erin corrected automatically. “And no. I’d almost forgotten about that anyway.”

  Dalton raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Please. You have the memory of an elephant.”

  “What? I had!” Erin insisted. “It’s something stupid we did at camp when we were all dumb, romantic teenagers.” She fiddled nervously with the hem of her T-shirt then stopped abruptly when she realized what she was doing.

  This was Matt’s T-shirt. She was wearing Matt’s T-shirt. She’d stolen it one night to sleep in because it was so soft and never given it back.

  The thought brought a sharp dart of homesickness for Morgantown and her own apartment with Matt three doors down. She resisted the urge to bring the shirt to her nose to see if it still smelled like him—faintly spicy cologne mixed with the clean, sharp scent of his deodorant and a slightly smoky smell from the furnaces at the glass studio. Funny how she could remember in such detail.

  “Uh-huh. Then you go to one of the girls’ weddings and immediately find a guy who can fly you around on a private jet,” Dalton said. “Kind of convenient, isn’t it?”

  “If you’re saying I dumped Matt for money, you’re totally off base,” Erin said heatedly. “We were never together, so I couldn’t dump him in the first place.” She pressed her back into the chair, trying to hide the back of the shirt, which had Matt’s last name emblazoned across the back in gray letters—Walters.

  “Okay,” Dalton held up a hand in a gesture of surrender. “I just want what’s best for you, and I’m not sure this is it.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.” She searched desperately for a change of topic. “How’s work going?”

  He pulled a face. “Terrific. Shall I tell you all about our fabulous campaign for Mercer Tires? We even did six weeks of market research.” He mimed holding a phone to his ear. “Now think carefully, sir; are you currently driving Mercer Deluxe and Mercer Deluxe II brand tires? You’re not sure? Do you think you could go out to your car and check? Of course I’ll wait.”

  Erin giggled. “Sounds fascinating.”

  “You have no idea.” Dalton plucked her cocoa mug from her grasp and winked. “Get some sleep. The salad isn’t going to chop itself tomorrow.”

  After he left, she went across the hall to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed, then climbed between the covers with a sigh. She didn’t see sleep coming any time soon; not while she was wearing Matt’s T-shirt. Her rational brain pointed out there were probably plenty of old shirts she’d left behind in the dresser across the room, or failing that, she could borrow one from Dalton, or even Brennan. But her rational mind could go pound sand. Lying here wrapped in Matt’s shirt, she could pretend they were still friends and that she didn’t have the constant burn of missing him blazing in her chest.

  **

  Thanksgiving at home was a comforting routine. Though he acted standoffish at first, Dad quickly warmed up to Brennan, especially when he heard about the private jet. It made Erin slightly ashamed to see how easily manipulated her father could be by money. At least she wouldn’t have to ask him for another loan; even playing a minor character on Broadway would give her enough income to support herself. Not in grand Brennan style and she’d probably have to find a roommate in order to afford an apartment, but it was a start.

  Dad and Dalton watched football in the office while Erin and Brennan helped Mom prepare dinner. They kept the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on in the kitchen so they could watch the performances from the hottest Broadway musicals while they stirred, chopped, and peeled.

  “Home never changes,” Erin sighed later as she set the table with her mother’s autumn harvest-themed china. The afternoon sun slanted through the dining room’s bay window, and the cut crystal goblets threw rainbows over the white tablecloth.

  “I like your house,” Brennan said. “And your parents are fun.”

  Erin hid a smile. Her mother had been drooling over Brennan all morning, pestering him for stories about every show on Broadway and demanding to know why their play didn’t perform during the parade. She was irritated to learn that only the musicals got to do the parade and insisted their performance would have been the hit of the day.

  “Is your other brother coming?” Brennan asked as they placed the silverware around the table.

  Erin shook her head. “He’s on call this weekend and couldn’t get away.” Christopher was in his last year of medical school in Orlando and rarely made it home anymore.

  “Too bad.” Brennan finished with the spoons and came around the table to her side. He reached out and grabbed Erin’s hips, pulling her close. “I would have liked to meet the whole family,” he said as he bent to nuzzle her neck.

  Erin tried to return his kisses, but she was too conscious of the openness of the dining room. One of her family members could come in at any minute and see them. She broke away. “We’d better check on the rolls.”

  Brennan planted one more kiss on her nose and grinned. “As you command.”

  Later that night they were back on the plane. Erin watched the lights of Asheville—much less impressive than those of New York—drop away as they took off.

  “Thank you for this,” Erin said to Brennan. “I could never have gone home without your help.”

  “Totally selfish motivations,” he insisted. “I wanted to meet your family. And ...” He slid closer to her on the bench seat. “I wanted to have you all to myself for at least a little while.”

  Lying in bed last night in Matt’s T-shirt, Erin had finally given in to the thoughts she’d been trying to push away. Rich, handsome, adorable Brennan Avery liked to kiss her. And ... she couldn’t feel it.

  She could feel it physically—the pressure of his lips on hers, his arms around her w
aist, the press of their bodies ... but emotionally, she never felt as if she was absorbing the entire weight of the kiss. Something always intruded in her thoughts, pulling her attention away from Brennan.

  Determined to feel it this time, Erin threw her arms around his neck and squeezed her eyes closed. She drank in his familiar taste and smell of mint and the scent of his cologne. Something stronger and more exotic than Matt’s. Probably more expensive, too.

  Stop thinking about Matt, you idiot!

  Frustrated, she wound her fingers into Brennan’s hair; he reacted instantly, groaning and pulling her closer. She kissed him fiercely, trying to match his intensity, trying to turn off her brain and just feel.

  But—she couldn’t. Kissing him was nice, pleasant even, but it was all on the surface. Where was the deep feeling, the rush of butterflies? Where was the feeling of ... wholeness?

  She drew back and opened her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Brennan asked.

  She hesitated, unsure what to do. “I guess I’m tired. It’s been a big day.”

  Brennan gave her a measured look. “That’s not the whole truth, is it?”

  She stared at her hands for a minute, then finally met his eyes. “No.”

  He was quiet, waiting.

  Finally she took a deep breath and continued. “Brennan ... I’m sorry. This ... us ... isn’t working.”

  He studied his shoes, nodding slowly. “I was afraid you’d say that. But I can’t say I didn’t see it coming,” he admitted with a sigh.

  “You did?”

  Brennan raised his head, his gorgeous green eyes boring into hers. “Erin, you’ve been through a lot of turmoil lately—the play, moving ... honestly, it would throw anyone. But there’s been something else, too. Something seemed to change right before we left Morgantown. You kind of ... faded a little, and you’ve acted kind of down ever since.”

  “I have?”

  He nodded. “I know getting passed over for the part of Charlotte was hard on you. But you’ll get there; you have to keep trying.”

  She turned to stare out at the blackness beyond the window. It was true; she’d changed, but not in the way Brennan thought. Losing the part of Charlotte was a bummer, but not a disaster. The old Erin would have called it a disaster, but the new Erin knew what a real disaster was—losing the love of your life because you were too stupid to recognize him for what he was.