Chapter One
Nick
I rolldown the window and breathe in the scent of freshly mown grass as I speed down the old state highway that now looks like some sort of backwoods backroad. Although it’s humid and hot as hell in the southern atmosphere, the fresh, earthy smell of Tennessee is starting to put me in a slightly better mood. Just a little bit.
It sure beats the mechanical, polluted smell of Boston anyway.
The reporters. Always in my face, trying to twist anything into a scandal. Starting rumors.
Yeah, it’s no wonder I have a permanent scowl on my face.
Of course, I still kept my house in the city, but it’d be nice to have this country house to get away to when I want a break, and I’m in desperate need of one right now.
As the owner of one of the biggest software companies on the globe, I can work from wherever I want. Yeah, there are certain meetings I have to conduct in person in the city, but there’s no reason why I can’t conduct some of them virtually too. The hell away from everybody.
And I’d gotten this mansion in Tennessee for a steal. What would normally be a thirty million dollar home in Boston I’d gotten for a mere two million. Not like I’m lacking in finances. I’m one of Boston’s most eligible billionaire bachelors—a moniker than makes me scowl just thinking about it—but I’m a smart investor if nothing else, so I couldn’t pass up on the deal when I came across it.
I’ve never lived in the country before. I was born in the city—with concrete under my feet and all that—but my folks were from around here, so I have some sort of relations in the area even if I’ve never explored them. Maybe it’s time I connect with my roots and slow it down a bit. Get a breather from the hustle and bustle of the city.
I only wish my parents were here to share in my success. They’d died in a car crash when I was a teen, so they never got to see my rise to billionaire status, and they weren’t here for me to buy them the home of their dreams in their hometown, so I guess I’m doing this partly in their honor.
I reach over to flick on the radio and grimace when the twang of country music filters through the air. I hurry to change the station. I might long for the solitude and beauty of the countryside, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy the whining that is country music. My tastes are much more refined. I finally find a station playing some light instrumental and leave it there.
When my eyes flick back up to the road, I slam on the brakes with a curse and skid to a stop.
A young woman stands fearlessly in the middle of the road with her hand held up to stop traffic. Granted, I’m the only traffic around. There are no other cars on this otherwise deserted road, but still. Jesus, I could have ran her over.
My chest heaves with the adrenaline of my heart jumping up into my chest in panic at the close call, but the girl seems unconcerned. Her fiery red hair curls all around her face and shoulders like a lioness’ mane before falling down to her waist. It’s unruly and wild, making her look like something untamed.
My eyes rove over her slim frame, from the baby blue tank top and faded cut-off shorts to the thin, tan-colored flip-flops on her feet with red-painted toenails.
I watch in fascination as she bends down and picks something up out of the middle of the road. When she straightens, I see what’s held in her hand and give an incredulous bark of laughter.
A turtle. The girl risked her life to stop traffic and help a turtle cross the street.
I watch as her long legs walk deftly to the other side of the road where she sets the terrapin down on the grass well off the side of the pavement before giving his shell an affectionate pat. She stands and starts to cross the road again to get back into the beat up-looking white truck I’ve just now noticed sitting on the side of the road.
I lean out of my rolled-down window, “Seriously? You realize I could have run you over?” I ask her with a growl, irritated that she’d put her life at risk in such a way.
She pauses by my luxury rental car and looks into my eyes for the first time.
Her eyes are a cerulean blue, a stunning color combination with her red hair. Her skin is flawless and milky, not tan like I’d normally expect of southern girls. Her lips are pink and lush, and I can’t stop the visceral and immediate reaction of my body to the whole package of her looking at me directly like this.
She’s stunning, but it’s more than that. Something I can’t put my finger on. Something that causes my chest to squeeze and renders me incapable of tearing my eyes from her.
She shrugs down at me like the fact that she endangered herself so recklessly is no big deal. “He needed help,” she states simply, her voice smooth and musical and utterly feminine and innocent at the same time.
Her nonchalant attitude snaps me back to the matter at hand. I frown at her. “Nevertheless, that was dangerous.”
She frowns. “He’s an innocent animal. Somebody had to save him from assholes like you who come speeding down the highway like a bat out of hell. I couldn’t just let him get run over.”
I blink at the dressing down she gives me and regard her curiously. I can’t remember the last time someone talked to me that way. Even the city’s most powerful men know better than to show me such disrespect. “You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?”
Her eyes flash at the reprimand, and she crosses her arms over her chest as she points out, “Standing here arguing this point with you is keeping me in the middle of the road.”
I realize she might have a point there. She raises a delicate brow at me. I’m stopped in the middle of the road, detaining her from getting back into her shitty-looking truck and getting out of the potential line of traffic.
“Get out of the road,” I order her, waiting until she frowns but moves to do as I say before I maneuver my car onto the side of the road behind her truck.