Charity was still reeling when she stepped into the jet tub, dropping a complimentary bath bomb into the water before she sank down to her neck, sighing blissfully.
A billionaire, she thought, still shocked by the revelation. How could a man who was so down-to-earth and so kind an actual billionaire? She hadn’t been prepared for that bomb.
She stared out the large window that took up the entire west wall to the city beyond. She could just see the Space Needle across the water in the distance. So much had happened since she’d texted him a few short hours before, and she wasn’t sure what to think about any of it. She’d been in her apartment, terrified that George’s parents were just going to show up and have her arrested, and now she was in a luxury suite she could fit her apartment in three times over, enjoying a lavish bath while they waited for their room service dinner to be delivered.
And then there was Lincoln. Charity groaned, shaking her head to herself and letting out another heavy sigh.
If only I’d met him under different circumstances, she thought. He was gorgeous, his green eyes so clear that they nearly sparkled, his hair a rich, dark brown that begged to be touched.
“And he loves nature,” she mumbled.
He checked off every box—handsome, kind, adventurous, and a shrewd businessman. Being a billionaire was just the icing on the cake, but it didn’t matter. Now that he’d told her, he would never believe that she wasn’t interested in his money.
And Charity was no gold digger.
She paid her own way and always had—until now. But she hadn’t asked for more than a ride to the airport, and this was Lincoln’s doing. She would have been content somewhere cheaper, and she’d already said as much. Was she using his generosity if she allowed him to spoil her while they planned their next move?
“No,” she said under her breath, but that didn’t solve her current problem.
When Lincoln had taken her hand and leaned in close to whisper in her ear outside the hotel, she’d been thrust back into the memory of her dream. She’d covered it up by laughing and claiming she was ticklish, but the truth was that her body had responded to him as if the encounter in her dream had really happened. She wanted him, and she wanted him bad.
If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe that Lincoln wanted her, too.
Stop, she told herself as she replayed the afternoon over and over in her head. It had felt good when Lincoln held her in his arms, comforting her when she felt like she was falling to pieces. But Lincoln was a good man, and she couldn’t risk reading into his touch, no matter how right it felt.
Her phone chimed just then, pulling her out of her musings and back into the moment.
Dinner is served, the text from Lincoln said, and all at once, Charity was starving. She hurriedly got dressed, leaving her dry hair clipped up away from her face.
She wasn’t prepared for the spread on the table or the candles that encircled the vase with the single rose in it.
“Wow,” she said. “When you said you wanted to treat me to a nice dinner, you weren’t joking. Are these real dishes?”
“Were you expecting takeout boxes?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her beside his.
“Yes,” she said. “But this is amazing.”
“It’s almost like being in a real restaurant.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You have to stop saying that,” he said with a wink. “You deserve this and more.”
“How are you still single?” she blurted out, then instantly regretted it.
He laughed, throwing his head back slightly, as shocked by her words as she was.
“You’d be surprised how hard it is to find women who are genuinely interested in the life I lead. Women who want a billionaire don’t want to break a sweat, let alone hike for hours in the wilderness. And women who would enjoy a more primitive existence haven’t experienced enough of the world to hold a decent conversation. It’s a tough balancing act, but when I’m sure I’ve found the woman who completes me, I’m never going to let her go.”
He was intense now, leaning forward, his hand beside a linen napkin folded in the shape of an elegant swan.
“She’d be a lucky woman,” Charity said, then changed the subject. “This food looks so amazing. I’m not sure whether to eat it or photograph it.”
Lincoln chuckled.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those that has to take a picture of every meal and post it?”
“No. I hardly use social media at all. I have to set a reminder so I can remember to plug my business at least once a week.”
“I noticed you don’t post much.”
“You noticed?” she asked, surprised.
“I checked you out.”
“How did you know my screen name?”
He shrugged.
“I have my ways,” he said, teasing.
“Or you just narrowed it down from your most recent followers.”
“Or that,” he agreed, chuckling again. “Although, I have so many followers, that would’ve been next to impossible if you didn’t have your name in your screen name.”
“True,” she said. “With that many followers, it’s a wonder you don’t have any stalkers.”
“I do. At least, I think I might at least have some super fans with boundary issues. I’ve seen a few faces on the trails that look really familiar, but they don’t ever come up and talk to me.”
“That seems suspicious.”
“I thought so, too, but what are you going to do? It’s part of being a social media influencer.”
“That’s why I like to keep mine low key,” she joked.
“If you posted more selfies, you would have a million followers by next week.”
“I’d rather gain followers on the merit of my work.”
“I do like your work. You’re very talented.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in that.”
“Not really. But there are better ways to use social media. You’re talented, but you’re also gorgeous. It’s a combination that draws people. You want to use social media to help people discover your work, not the other way around.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “I might give it a shot. I guess I just want my work to speak for itself and pandering to the crowd seems like I failed, you know?”
“I don’t think I could do what you do. I can’t even draw stick figures.”
“Actually, that’s why I got into graphic design in the first place. It helps to be able to draw, but anyone willing to work at it can do graphic design.”
“Do you have another job?” he asked between bites.
“No,” she said.
“That’s quite a risk.”
“I’ve been told the same thing a lot, but the truth is, I either go all in or not at all. I couldn’t be a graphic designer part-time. I need to be devoted to my work.”
“I understand,” he said. “I know that Will likes to poke fun of my trust fund, but in all reality, most of what my father left me was tied up in The Moore Corporation.”
“What’s up between you and Will?”
“We have a bit of a rivalry,” Lincoln said. “We’re both extreme outdoor adventure vloggers. He’s basically my only competition.”
“I get that, but it seemed a little more personal than that.”
“You’re right. We used to be best friends, and when I started my vlog, we did it together.”
“What happened?”
“Accounts like that are slow to start, and Will just couldn’t wait. I kept telling him that when it took off, it would be practically overnight, and if he could just hold on and invest some time in it, everything would be alright.”
“I get it. It was the same when I started my graphic design company. My best friend was panicking about rent and bills, practically begging me to get another job. I had a part-time job at first, but I pretty much lived off my savings for a long time. I still paid my part of the bills, but there was a solid month that I ate nothing but ramen and cereal, and Shanice was concerned.”
“But you kept at it,” he said with a warm smile. “And now, look at you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed. “I’m still struggling sometimes, but for the most part, I do well for myself.”
“And you wouldn’t be this far if you hadn’t held out.”
“I wouldn’t, but I kinda get where Will is coming from. It’s easy to hold out when you have a trust fund and money isn’t an issue. There were so many days that I thought I would fail, and I skipped a few meals. But I knew that ignoring my dreams was more painful than a little bit of hunger.”
“Some people are short-sighted.”
“They are, but you can’t blame them. I can design on an empty stomach. I bet it’s a little harder to climb mountains when you’re hungry.”
“It can be dangerous, but I made sure that Will had money. I created a job for him with my vlog brand. I paid him to go on these adventures with me, and when it took off, he would be part owner and get half of all revenue.”
“But he bounced before that happened.”
“Less than a month before it took off. He left in a huff and told me he didn’t want to go down with my sinking ship. He started his own vlog, and the first post was a video where he talked about my foolishness and how he was glad to get out when he did.”
“That sounds charming,” Charity said with a wry grin.
Lincoln chuckled.
“It gets better. After the vlog started making money, he tried to sue me for profits, claiming that I was only doing well because of him. His blowup called attention to my vlog from his followers, and since he mentioned me by name, I decided to repost the video on my account to encourage my followers to live their dreams no matter what. His case was thrown out because his video was damning. There was no way for him to convince a judge that he was still invested in the company when it went viral. I’d offered to settle with him before court, but he laughed in my face. He walked away with nothing. By then, my father had died, and I sold my shares and stepped away from the board of directors, and I was finally able to start living life on my terms. It was the best decision I ever made, stepping out of the old man’s shadow.”
“I’m sure it felt like that, but I know that most parents just want to make sure that their kids grow up to be successful. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Lincoln said. “But that’s not true in my father’s case. He was controlling. I never could protect my mom from him; I was really young when she died. But as soon as that man was in the ground, I cut all ties with everything he’d saddled me with, and I never looked back. I hope he’s rolling in his grave right now.”
Charity wasn’t sure what to say, so she took a bite and watched his face and the emotions that played across it. He wasn’t sad about his father’s death, but she could see that he had held onto a lifetime of resentment and something more that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
He was still brooding when she finally spoke, treading carefully.
“That’s why you went off when you saw George attacking me,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
“It was. I heard him berating you, and I felt like I’d stepped back in time to the house I used to live in. My father never laid a hand on my mom, but he was always in her face, tearing her down every chance he got. I was too young to do anything then, but when I saw the way George was going at you, and I heard what he was saying, I knew that this was my chance to do something.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said quietly. “You could have walked away.”
He shook his head.
“I couldn’t have. I couldn’t leave you alone to face that monster. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
Charity’s lip quivered, but she bit back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d spent the past two weeks trying to push the events of that day from her mind, but it all came crashing back. This man sitting across the table had saved her life, and he wanted nothing in return. If she hadn’t contacted him, she probably would’ve gone the rest of her life without seeing him.
“There’s something so humbling about a man saving your life and wanting nothing in return,” she said when she could speak.
He smiled, the expression almost sad.
“But, I do want something in return,” he said, taking a slow sip of his wine.
Her stomach dropped, and images of the two of them tangled in the bedsheets swirled in her head. She couldn’t help but smile.
“And what is that?” she asked, still smiling.
He set the glass down and looked her straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering.
“I want you to live your life to the fullest, and I want to make sure that no one ever treats you like he did again. I know when this is over, you’re going to go back to your life and I to mine. I want to know that you won’t ever know the fear that I saw in your eyes that day. If I can trust that, I’ll be happy. That’s all I want.”
“Me too,” she said, but it was a lie.
All she really wanted was for this time with Lincoln to last forever.