Because something told her that Will Franconi not only had plenty of practice in sweeping a girl off her feet and making her feel completely breathless, but for some reason she couldn’t understand, he was planning on putting those skills to use tonight.

With her.

CHAPTER SIX

Beside her, Will filled the car with his overwhelmingly male presence. When he was near, it felt to Harper as though everything and everyone else was eclipsed. Case in point: Despite her intention to be happy with her life the way it was—just her and Jeremy—she was heading out on a date with a man she barely knew and still wasn’t at all sure she could trust.

As Will headed up Sand Hill Road, out to the freeway, he said, “I hope you like Italian. I know a great place in Woodside, not far from here.”

“It sounds lovely.” Though her job was talking and bringing people together, she felt horribly tongue-tied. What was so different about Will that simply sitting next to him made her heat up all over and her brain go blank?

“Why recruiting?” he asked into the silence after he’d merged into the freeway traffic.

Glad that at least one of them was able to think straight enough to start a conversation, she said, “I’ve always liked connecting people and helping them find a career that’s just the right fit. Plus, it’s a fairly flexible job, so I can work from home or arrange meetings around Jeremy as I need to.”

They exited at Woodside and headed west. The roads were winding and two-lane here. The town was small and quaint, surrounded by horse farms and large estates. They passed a small vineyard with bright green leaves and grape clusters just starting to appear.

“I know you’re not looking for anyone to give you credit, but you’ve obviously done an amazing job taking care of your brother.” He glanced at her, and she was surprised to see admiration in his expression. “Especially when you’re so young. And with all his special needs, not many people could handle that.”

But she didn’t feel particularly young. She’d grown up fast after Jeremy’s accident. “He’s got school and a job at the local grocery store. So he keeps pretty busy without me, actually.” And she felt guilty letting Will think she’d taken miraculous care of Jeremy on her own. “The truth is that I couldn’t have managed without the trust.”

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“Trust?”

She’d already told him too much in his garage. But he was obviously quite good at realizing when there was more—and at getting her to share it. “The father of the teenager who hit Jeremy set up a fund.”

Will was silent a long moment before saying, “I wanted to ask you before, did the kid go to prison?”

“No one saw anything. And my parents had to take the money because they couldn’t pay for everything that Jeremy needed.” Though she knew it might sound defensive, she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “My parents did what they had to do.”

Will took his hand off the stick shift and placed it over hers for a moment. One that was too brief before he had to change gears again, but long enough for her to be seared by his heat—and touched by his obvious compassion.

“Of course your parents did what anyone would have done in their position.”

It meant a lot to her that he didn’t seem to be judging either her or her parents for using the trust to take care of Jeremy. Still, she felt as though she’d told him pretty much everything about herself at this point. Now she wanted to know his story. Because even if this was just one night away from real life, she couldn’t help but want to know where he’d come from and how he’d gotten here.

“Tell me about you, Will.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw right before he gave her a crooked smile. “My life is already out there on the Internet.”

But all the Internet said was that he was a self-made man from Chicago who’d dated several gorgeous models and actresses. She also knew that he was part of a consortium called The Maverick Group, whose members were all self-made men like him.

Everything else about Will Franconi—the man, not the billionaire—was a mystery. One that she couldn’t help but want to solve.

And yet, at the same time, she knew she shouldn’t let herself get invested in him. They weren’t going to fall madly in love, get married, and live happily ever after—it was just a drive and dinner, after all. Not the first night of the rest of their lives together.

As if by design, before she could ask anything more, he pulled into a parking lot and said, “We’re here.”

She was pleased to see that the restaurant looked homey, a place she’d be comfortable in, rather than a flashy see-and-be-seen kind of place. The small yard of the yellow Victorian house with a wraparound porch and dormer windows was filled with flowering bushes and a carved wood sign that read Ristorante Cannelli.




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