The Russian Billionaire’s Secret(13)

Chapter 2

The Secrets That Keep Me From You

After her date, Amy got worried that she would have trouble falling asleep. Not that she was floating away peacefully on a cloud most nights since Chad had left her at the altar, but she thought that night would be much worse.

She did lay awake for awhile thinking about how Cole had smiled at her and how he waited patiently when her answers were slow coming. She tried hard and failed to think about anything except for the way his lips felt against her. More than she thought about how safe and sexy she felt when Cole had pulled her into his arms and locked his gaze to hers in the seconds before their lips met.

Amy was no stranger to dating or to men, but couldn't recall a time another man had made her feel that way. She dozed off wondering how much she was going to regret not talking to Cole again. Being around him felt wonderful, but she had learned the hard way that the better something feels the more it hurts when you lose it.

Amy startled awake several hours later. The room was dark except for the red numbers of her digital clock glaring at her. It was only three in the morning. Her heart thumped against her rib cage and she tried hard to remember what her dream had been about.

“Chad!” she said and slapped her pillow hard.

Swinging her legs off the bed, Amy stood up and went to her office. It was better to work than dwell on her nightmares of being left at the office. It was her own personal joke that she should write the jerk a very long thank you letter for breaking her heart. Since that fateful day, she had written more than she ever did before.

The sun rose before Amy next looked up from her computer screen. She had finished another two chapters on her nearly complete manuscript. Now that the sun was up, her self imposed rule of no coffee after dark no longer applied. She padded into the kitchen and started the pot. The message light on her cellphone was blinking red on the table.

“Should have known,” Amy laughed aloud. “Debbie. Always Debbie.”

“How did it go?”

“Did you fall in love?”

“Are you not answering, because you're busy trying to make an auntie out of me?”

“I had a really great time last night. Want to grab a coffee?”

Amy read the last message twice. It definitely wasn't from Debbie. She checked the time on the message. Only twenty minutes had elapsed since it was received.

“Cole,” she whispered and their date from the previous night came back in flashes of awkwardness and warmth. “Don't make me regret this.”

She text him back a quick yes and the address of her favorite coffee house around the corner. It was quiet and sometimes when she was stuck on a chapter, she'd take her laptop there to write. She turned the coffee pot on and headed for the shower.

Half an hour later, she was a block away from the coffee house. She slowed down and checked her hair in a shop window. The streets were still empty and the morning rush to Saturday jobs hadn't began yet.

“Hey there!” Cole called when she turned the corner.

This morning Cole dressed down. He was clad in khakis and a blue button down shirt. Amy thought the color brought attention to just how blue his eyes were and the shorter sleeves showed his strong arms. She had to force herself not to think about the delightful feeling of having them around her.

“Good morning,” she smiled trying not to betray that she had spent half the night writing.

She startled for a second when he greeted her with a warm good morning hug before returning the embrace. A woman across the street shot her a look of envy as she got out of her car. Amy swallowed a laugh as they headed into the coffee shop.

Inside, she ordered her regular a large mocha on ice and Cole ordered his coffee black.

“Hard night?” she teased.

“No, why?”

“Black coffee?”

“All of that other crap just waters down the flavor and with good coffee you don't need that,” he laughed.

“It enhances the flavor,” she laughed.

“So what about you? Up all night writing?”

“No, only half the night,” she shrugged. “I don't control when inspiration strikes.”

“So what was so inspiring last night?” he arched a brow.

“Don't flatter yourself,” Amy playfully rolled her eyes. “I wasn't writing an interrogation scene.”

“What were you writing?”

“The main conflict of the book.”

“Do you work for the CIA or something? Because you're really good at being discreet.”

“Sorry,” she laughed as the nervous feeling crept over her again.

“I talked to Debra last night. She called me when you didn't text her back.”

“Sorry,” Amy muttered wishing that Debbie would learn to mind her own business.

“It's not your fault. She was just worried that things had went less than perfect.”

“Did you tell her if they had it would have been her fault?”

“No, I told her that if she wanted the dirt she'd have to get it from you. I wasn't going to have you giving me the cold shoulder so her gossip bone could be satisfied.”

“Good man,” she laughed and they mock clicked their coffee mugs together.

“Well, this,” Cole motioned to the space between them “is about us.”