None was more surprising than the fact that she wanted the road warrior in him. For so long, he’d hidden that part of himself. He’d buried it with emotionless sex in the dark, always using his past to remain separate. But Harper had bared him. And accepted him. She’d taken him into that motel room—no luxuries, no gifts, no lies—and given over her whole self. He’d felt the gut-deep connection just the way he felt her thumb along the back of his hand right now as they headed home in his car.
He had one hand on the wheel, and one hand on her, as she said, “I want you to know I’m not like this with anyone else. Not ever.”
He knew there was no way she’d ever done those things with someone else. She didn’t have to tell him. She was in deep, just like he was...even if she still wasn’t ready to say those three little words back to him.
“I love everything about you, Harper,” he said first. And while she was still blushing, added, “I have to go to London for a couple of days. I’d like you to come with me.”
“I can’t take another day off so soon,” she was quick to say.
As quick as he’d honestly expected her to. Other women would have leapt at the chance to fly to Europe with him. But Harper wasn’t like those women. She was independent.
And still far too wary.
“Would the following week work better?” The plant tour he’d arranged could be postponed.
She found another excuse. “At this late date, a plane ticket would cost a fortune.”
He had a fortune. And more. “I have a private jet.”
Her expression shifted and he couldn’t quite read her thoughts as she said, “You’re forgetting about Jeremy. I can’t just leave him like that.”
“I haven’t forgotten about him. You know I wouldn’t do that. He can stay with Mrs. Taylor and my driver can take him to school, to work, and back home again.”
“But...” She halted, and he knew her brain must be spinning as she looked at the situation from all angles, the way she always did. The way she’d always had to, ever since her parents had passed away and she’d become all Jeremy had. “I’ve never left him for that long.”
“You’ve never even gone away for the weekend?” The shake of her head marked his peripheral vision, and he felt a tightening in his gut at the confirmation that Harper had never had a life of her own. “He’ll be fine with Mrs. Taylor. He likes her.”
“I know he does, but that’s not the point.”
He knew he was moving fast, that he was pushing hard. But he wanted this—and he knew she did, too. “He’ll be fine. I promise. He can do this, Harper. It’ll make him feel like an adult.”
Jeremy was the biggest part of her life, he understood that. But Jeremy wasn’t a seven-year-old child. Yes, he had limitations, but he would be fine for two days without Harper. It would be a vacation for them both.
“Jeremy and I are a package deal.” Her voice was tight now, no longer loose, the way it had been at the motel. “You can’t have one without the other.”
“You know I want the package deal, Harper. But a little freedom won’t hurt him. And it won’t hurt you, either. You don’t always have to be your brother’s keeper. And I hope one day you know that you can always ask for help from me, too. Always.”
* * *
Harper wanted to tell Will she wasn’t Jeremy’s keeper. But before the words could make it out of her throat, she realized they would be a lie. Because she had set herself up as her brother’s keeper, and that had directed every decision she’d made since. Even her career choice had been about Jeremy. She was happy to do it, of course, happy to take care of him. But it was scary to realize that her entire world really did revolve entirely around her brother.
At least it had—until Will had blasted into their lives.
“Let me relieve some of your burdens, Harper.” His voice was gentle but firm. Confident. As always. “And let me take you to London in my private jet.” His tone changed, deepened, softened. Seduced. “I want to lay you down on the bed in my private cabin. I want to join the Mile High Club with you.”
He took all the air out of her objections with a few words and an image that carried a big punch. Of course he would have a bed in his private jet.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“It’s completely fair,” he argued. “Because we both want it equally.”
God, yes, she wanted it, just as much as he did. Wanted it so badly that just thinking of it had her control ripping into even thinner shreds than it had out on the race track, and then at the motel.