Page 5 of Kiss me Forever

“Maybe, but sometimes it’s those unexpected encounters in our lives that lead to the best stories,” she reminds me. “Maybe he’s a two-night stand man if he’s back.”

“Isn’t this what I always say?” I tell her.

“There are no rules that I can’t use your own words against you,” she responds.

“He won’t be back, so this isn’t an issue,” I tell her. The sad thing is I don’t think I’d mind having him come back just to see if I still feel as much electricity between us, if for nothing else. It’s simply been a shock to see him again, that’s all.

“If it was as intense as you’re describing, he might come back again and again,” she counters.

“I guess we’ll see,” I say.

We talk for a few more minutes before I hang up. Maybe the man will come back, but most likely he won’t, and my fascination with him will fade away just as it always does when I develop a crush on someone. All good stories eventually come to an end. I know this more than most, and maybe that’s what makes relationships so dang scary for me, not that I’d get into a relationship with a man like Magnus Carter. One night with him was more than enough.

No, that man is a one night and gone sort of man, and I’m not necessarily against that, but with a man like Magnus, he leaves, but the emotions he leaves a woman with aren’t worth the incredibly great sex. Tomorrow I’ll start to forget all about him again and get back to normal. Tonight I might just have to fantasize a bit . . .

Chapter Three

Magnus

I sit in my office, the view of the city sprawling out below me, a testament to the empire I’ve build from nothing. My assistant has long ago left for a doctor appointment after delivering my latest reports, and now I find myself staring at the stack of papers in front of me without really seeing them. No, I can’t think of work when my mind keeps drifting back to the quaint library in a small town not far from where I am now. It all has to do with one certain woman I haven’t been able to keep my thoughts away from for nearly a year now.

Piper Covington. Never before have I slept with a woman, then craved her after. I’ve told myself the feeling will go away, told myself the chemistry was good, but it wasn’t that good. I now know I’ve been lying to myself. Being in the same room with her again sent a jolt through my body unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I want her again. I just wonder how long it will take to purge her from my system. I’ve never found someone I want to keep around.

This isn’t a fact I’m proud of. It’s also something that breaks my mother’s heart. I don’t want to be an asshole, but I also value myself enough I’m not willing to settle for something less than exceptional. If I could find a woman I can’t live without, I won’t let her go. Could it be this woman I met a year ago? It seems impossible.

Even knowing this, Piper’s name is lingering in my thoughts like a melody that I can’t shake. A year ago when she drove me around for business I couldn’t stop my fascination with the woman, and seeing her again just proves that there’s something about her that’s unsettling. I’m not used to feeling this way. Women always fall all over themselves for me, vying to get my attention, but not this woman. She’s different — cheerful, helpful, yet seemingly uninterested in any advances from me. I do know how to shake her though, and what a ride that is. She wants to be swept off her feet, and I might just be the man who can do it.

I kick back and lean in my chair, running a hand through my hair. A smile lights my face, not something too many people get to see. I haven’t ever felt this intrigued by a woman. It might bother me, but not enough to stay away. I’m a self-made billionaire, used to control and certainty in my life. I don’t do whims. My life’s built on calculated risks and strategic moves, not whims and distractions. It doesn’t matter though because Piper has drawn me in, and I can’t let her go.

I’ll come back to her library, and I’ll see her again. We have something between us, and this feeling isn’t going to leave me until I take it to the next level. I’m sure if I see her a few more times, the magic will fade away. It always does. I can wish all day long for it to last, but that won’t make it happen.

I’m frustrated that I feel so up and down where it comes to this woman. I’m a self-made billionaire, which is rarer than people realize. With tens of thousands of romance books out there with billionaire’s in them, you’d think there are a million of us in the world. In all reality, there are less than three thousand of us out of a global population of over eight billion people. That’s only a third of a percentage. Maybe someday I’ll be the first trillionaire. If a man can’t dream, what goals does he really have?

I grew up in low-income housing with my full Italian mother and American father who met when my dad went on a college trip to Venice. They love to say they fell in love in the water. My father was enjoying Italian wine a little too much and fell into the canal and my mother dove in to rescue him. I still smile when I think of their story. It was love at first sight. He came home with a wife and a son nine months later. My sister joined us two years after that. My dad took over the family logging business, and when it was shut down, we lost everything. He never stopped working hard and my mother was his entire life. I still miss the man who shaped me. Luckily, I still have my mother and sister who keep me grounded.

I knew from the age of ten though, that I was never going to live in poverty. I grew up in a happy home with thrift store clothing and a lot of love. I wanted to provide the world for my family and that motivated me to work hard. I made my first million my freshman year of college. By the time I graduated I was a multi-millionaire. Now, I’m thirty-two years old, own several companies, and grow bored far too easily. I’m always looking for new challenges.

I reached the billionaire club three years ago, and this has led me to a life of having very few people I can trust. My mother is my source for advice and love, and though she refuses to give up living a simpler life, she also humbles me. I still have Sunday dinner with her every week. This has always been important to my family, even after losing my father at the young age of twenty-one. My sister, who is thirty, is a spitfire. My mother constantly complains that she’s owed grandchildren and doesn’t understand how neither of us have provided them for her. It always makes me squirm as I don’t feel I’ll ever be a father which is breaking my mother’s heart. Some people are made to be parents. I’m not sure if either my sister or I have that gene in us.

I’ve only introduced two women to my family, and both of those women came up short, looking down on my mother and sister who choose to live in a vineyard in Washington in simple but beautiful homes less than a mile from one another. They both hate modern fashion, preferring rustic, going back to my mother’s Italian roots.

I decide I’m not going to get anything done this afternoon with my mind in the past, and on one single woman, a woman who I can’t shake. It was a year ago that she drove me around for a week, and we had one single night together which was spectacular. Instead of me being the one to walk away, she left without turning back. I told myself this was good. We both got what we needed. A year later and I still can’t forget her.

I didn’t seek her out at the library, but now that I’ve found her again, I’m not letting the opportunity pass me by. I smile as I close down my computer. I’m not going to wait to see her again. I need to strike while the iron’s hot. I saw the way she looked at me, and she might be putting walls up, but we have a connection. It’s something worth exploring.

I get into my car, and the drive back to her small town on the outskirts of Seattle is uneventful, giving me even more time to think, something I normally like. Today, though, I don’t want to be stuck too long inside my own head.

By the time I reach the library my resolve has strengthened. I’m Magnus Carter, and I don’t let distractions interfere with my goals in life. I step from my vehicle and walk with confidence inside the quaint library. As soon as I see Piper, though, my determination once again wavers. She’s at a table speaking to an elderly woman, her face lit up with genuine interest and kindness, and I feel my gut clench. I watch for a long moment, then slowly move forward. Why is it that this particular woman sends all sorts of chaotic thoughts, and raging hormones racing through my body?

“Good afternoon, Piper,” I say, trying to keep my voice professional.

She looks up, her eyes widening in surprise, and a delight she tries to hide. “Hello, Mr. Carter. I didn’t expect you back so soon.” The woman she was speaking to is looking back and forth between us with a twinkle in her eyes. I give the lady a wink that makes her cheeks pinken. I wish I could get this reaction from Piper.

“I like your collection of rare books. I’m thinking I’d like to find more,” I tell her. We both know this is an excuse, but this woman loves books, and she won’t turn down someone asking for her help. This is a full advantage for me.

She gives me a skeptical look, but nods. “I’d love to help. What specifically are you looking for today?”

“I’m looking into ancient trade routes. I think we learn a lot from the past and I’m always looking for new business opportunities.”

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