Wedding Date with the Billionaire Read online

  Erin was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since before she left the town house in Spokane to head to the airport for her short flight to Seattle. But she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the bridesmaid firing squad and their potential interrogation. As the quintet still had their backs to her, she was able to continue listening for the two words she knew she’d hear. They came immediately.

  “You know she used to date Kento Yamamoto?” One of the men spoke the only name that had ever made Erin’s heartbeat sputter. Of all the things she was likely to have to face this weekend, seeing Kento again was the scariest.

  Amber exclaimed, “We know! He gave us a ride here on his boat.”

  “On his boat.”

  “He’s a major player in the software sector, isn’t he?” another other man in the group asked.

  “Major.”

  “He’s so gorgeous,” MacKenzie threw in.

  He was at that. Erin knew that the seven years they’d been apart looked good on him because she’d seen articles in magazines about the young, unmarried billionaire. From the photos she could see that nothing had changed about him being six foot three with hair that was too long for a businessman. Nor the dark, probing eyes and slim hips. Although she’d noticed that his face had matured from that of university student to twenty-eight-year-old CEO.

  “And he’s megarich,” Amber continued to blab.

  “Mega.”

  Kento had brought them to the island on his own boat. Erin wondered how that came about. Unless things had changed, it wasn’t like him to go for the gold digger types. In fact, that was what she had always suspected was one of the things that drove him away years ago, this elite Seattle crowd’s obsession with money and success. Back then, just like Harris more recently, Kento had disappeared. She hadn’t known why, but he’d vanished just the same, leaving Erin abandoned. Decidedly different was that Harris leaving didn’t matter to her all that much. Kento’s departure had been another thing entirely. One that, in fact, had altered her life.

  As to the bridesmaids, back in the day Kento had loathed people like Amber and MacKenzie, judging men based on their bank accounts or status. Although what would Erin know about Kento’s likes and dislikes anymore? She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone from a have-not to a most definite have.

  “Is he single?”

  “Doesn’t he live in Japan?”

  “Was he born in Seattle?”

  “Does he know Harris broke up with Erin?”

  “He didn’t have a date with him on the boat.”

  “Is he bringing someone to the wedding?”

  “Look him up online.”

  “Whoosh.” One of the guys finally put the kibosh on the gossip. Erin almost let out a chuckle, so laser-focused were these big-haired opportunists. “All I said was that he used to date Erin. I have no further intelligence. Shall we call in the FBI?”

  If the two bridesmaids rode across the Sound with Kento, that meant he was already on the property. A pulse dashed through Erin’s body at the thought. She glanced behind her as if she might see him suddenly standing right there, eavesdropping on her eavesdropping.

  Instead, when she turned around she saw Bettina “Bunny” Marchand Barclay, her mother, coming toward her. Bunny Barclay was probably Seattle’s most visible socialite, constantly appearing in the news at a gala fundraiser for a new museum or a mayor’s luncheon or the like. Upper crust to a fault, Bunny wore pearls to breakfast. The Barclay fortune belonged to Erin’s father, Ingram, the fifth generation of land and property owners who were in possession of a good percentage of Washington state. Her father wouldn’t be in attendance for the wedding weekend, as he had important business in Walla Walla.

  “You look absolutely gaunt,” Bunny trilled as she air-kissed her daughter on each cheek. “I hope there’s a makeup artist coming, and immediately.”

  Erin wasn’t aware that she didn’t look right. She’d scarcely checked a mirror today. Since Harris had fled three weeks ago, the days had been a blur spent mostly in the gloomy and overdecorated Spokane town house that she’d never liked, anyway. After Harris’s departure, her parents had decided that Erin would move back into their palatial home in Seattle, with the intention of finding her a suitable husband, of course. Because breeding was to be Erin’s most important purpose in life. After several disappointments, they’d thought they’d made a perfect match in Harris. How wrong they were. Hair and makeup had been the last thing on Erin’s mind lately.

  Having already checked into her room, she was certainly planning to shower, dress and groom appropriately for the welcome dinner later that would kick off the wedding festivities. It quickly crossed her mind that she hoped Kento wouldn’t be coming down to the lounge now for the afternoon snack, not wanting to see him until after she’d pulled herself together. Not that it should matter, as it was far too late for anything between the two of them. He’d made that abundantly clear when he deserted her without even saying goodbye. Kento, a few others that never developed, then Harris, the aging party boy. Was there anyone on earth who had worse luck with men than she did?

  “Erin,” Bunny continued, “there are a number of eligible men coming to the wedding I want you to meet.”

  “It’s only been three weeks since Harris left me.” Erin sized her mother up like she was crazy. “Isn’t a mourning period in order?”

  “You do not tell people that Harris left you. You say that you found you weren’t compatible.”

  “Mother, do you remember that I mentioned to you a 1902 property in Queen Anne I saw? Now that I’m going to be moving back to Seattle, I’d like to look at buying that for the company.”

  “You know we have an acquisitions department to handle new purchases. Let’s concentrate on finding you a proper match so that the next generation of Barclays is insured.”

  “That’s my purpose in life? I’m just a pedigreed racehorse?”

  Erin didn’t hide her cynicism. Really, though, what difference did it make? Let her parents choose a mate for her, sure. Her own attempts had ended with love jetting five thousand miles across the Pacific Ocean to build a future that didn’t include her.

  “And no, at your age we don’t waste time licking our wounds.”

  “Yes, at twenty-eight, I’m an ancient sack of bones.”

  “The clock is ticking. Let me tell you about someone. Humphrey Colder.”

  “Kento Yamamoto is here, Mother. Now that he has money, maybe you’d like him better.” The words fell out of Erin’s mouth before she had a chance to censor herself. He’d devastated her by leaving, but he didn’t deserve to be part of a sarcastic joke. Yet she’d always had a suspicion that her parents had had something to do with Kento walking out of her life.

  Bunny bristled. Her small mouth pursed. “We deal in traditional wealth, Erin. Established families from the Northwest. Landowners. Not fly-by-night tech billionaires. The Kento Yamamotos of the world aren’t our kind of people. They never were and they never will be. Have I made myself clear on that?”

  You’re not the one who should have been spending your life with him, Erin thought but didn’t bother to say, as it was a lost cause.

  * * *

  Kento surveyed the view from the front porch of the second most deluxe cabin on the Locklear Lodge grounds. He’d reserved the largest for Christy and Lucas, his wedding gift to them. His was expansive and constructed in a rich red wood, the porch large enough to house a hammock and a sofa swing. He noted that the enclosed side deck offered complete privacy and was equipped with a sauna, hot tub and outdoor shower. It wistfully occurred to him what a romantic setting this would be for a couple in love.

  The vistas were magnificent. Beyond the large stretch of lawn that the cabin opened onto, the dense grove of fir trees so plentiful in the Pacific Northwest stood proud and strong. Their bracing, earthy scent was like no other. It would do Kento some good
to take a walk in the forest there, the moist earth under his feet. He couldn’t have been farther from his ultramodern office suite in Tokyo.

  He heard them before he saw them. Loud voices interrupting the hush of nature. Squishing sounds in the ground.

  “Hi, Kento!”

  “Hi, Kento! We didn’t see you in the lounge.”

  It was Amber and MacKenzie trotting the footpath that crossed in front of his cabin en route from the lodge’s main buildings.

  “Hi, Kento.” A third voice poked out from between the two. Kento’s stomach lunged at the possibility that it might be Erin, whom he hadn’t yet seen since he arrived. He’d skipped the revelry at the ferry dock and opted out of the afternoon tea. Was this the moment they’d lay eyes on each other again for the first time this weekend? Would she be happy to see him? He knew what hurt he still carried. What might she?

  The clearing between the bridesmaids opened to reveal a short woman with large breasts. She was definitely not Erin. “I’m Divya Nadu, and I’ve been wanting to meet you.” All three of them giggled. Kento wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved that he wasn’t face-to-face with Erin yet. Although that would be coming soon enough, as everyone was expected at the welcome dinner.

  “Prosperity Magazine named you one of the top five billionaires under thirty,” Divya squealed.

  “Did they? What’s the criteria for that?” Kento snickered and folded his arms across his chest. “How did I get into the top five?”

  “Oh, good question. I think it was that they predicted your fortunes would continue to grow.”

  “Based on what?” How familiar this was. All of Kento’s life it seemed that within minutes of meeting someone, there was some inquisition as to his positioning and station. He was right to have left this toxicity behind him when he moved to Tokyo after earning his university degree. There were plenty of opportunists there, too, especially as he became more and more successful. But he’d learned how to better detect and fend them off.

  It still nagged in his craw, though, how he’d left Erin, the only woman who saw him for who he was not what he had. Clearly she’d wanted him to go. After all, she had participated in his ousting. But he should have said goodbye. What they’d had together was important, and they’d owed each other a final farewell. All these years later and his business with her was still unfinished.

  He’d met plenty of women in that time, Ayaka being the only one he’d gotten serious with. Which turned out no better than things did with Erin. The memory of Erin had never left him, though. In a way, it was holding him back. Maybe if he didn’t still have foggy dreams of her eyes sparkling in the moonlight, or remember her smiles in the sunshine, he could be free from desiring something he knew he’d never have.

  Billionaire bachelor. Ha. Always would be.

  “I guess they think your company will get bigger and bigger,” Divya continued. “I mean, it’s so huge already.”

  “Huge.”

  “Enormous.”

  As these women babbled on, Kento figured it was going to be a long, long weekend.

  MacKenzie said, “Let’s have a drink at the bar before dinner.”

  “A little cocktail kickoff.”

  “And sit with us at dinner, Kento.” Hadn’t one of them already asked him that earlier? These women didn’t know a thing about him other than what they’d read in a magazine. Yet they wanted him to sit with them. Was it any wonder he felt constantly measured?

  “Sit with us.” Amber was beginning to sound like a pouty little girl. Which, in fact, she was. Divya’s smile was as forced and wide as a jack-o’-lantern’s. How could he get them to move on?

  “If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Kento said politely, “I’m going to go inside to get unpacked and dress for dinner. I’ll see you there.”

  “Okay,” MacKenzie sang, “but you better at least dance with me.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Me, three.”

  He bowed his head at each of them. Thankfully, they skirted off after a chorus of goodbyes.

  Swiping his key card, he stepped into the cabin and took off his shoes. Inside, it was thankfully quiet. The living room contained large furniture that faced the view through the windows. A dining table and chairs could accommodate a private meal for eight should that be desired. The kitchen area was stocked with local brands of gourmet snacks and a basket of fresh fruit. Wines, sodas, waters and a coffee setup stood ready on the counter. A state-of-the-art media center allowed as much connectivity as a guest could want.

  The bedroom was furnished with a king-size bed framed by a redwood headboard and posts, made up with plush green plaid bedding and a dozen pillows. A small sofa and coffee table faced the wood-burning fireplace as well as a second wall-mounted TV, giving the bedroom options for more than sleeping.

  An extravagant bathroom was anchored by a claw-foot bathtub. There was a walk-in shower with glass walls. Shelves held stacks of fluffy towels and baskets of toiletries. Kento unbuttoned his shirt and threw it onto a vanity table. He quickly stripped off all his clothes, ready for a shower to reinvigorate him after a long journey and the grating encounter with the grinning bridesmaids.

  Before stepping into the shower, though, he had a change of heart. The weather had cleared and there was even some end-of-the-afternoon sun, so he decided to make use of the outdoor shower.

  Knowing the area was fully secluded thanks to its own cluster of trees, he grabbed a couple of towels and strode naked out the door to the side deck. The shower wasn’t enclosed in any way. Its wide rain-forest faucet was embedded in a stone wall, leaving everything around it open. He turned the knobs until the spray produced a strong flow. When he stepped under the showerhead, the hot water pouring down onto him in conjunction with the soft breeze across his skin was a sublime combination. He let the water slide down his body, swirling to the drain at his feet. Breathing in, he took his time and allowed the sensations to envelop him. It was truly relaxing.

  His nakedness outdoors felt so primal. As if an ancient drum was beating somewhere low within him, marching him toward something unseen. A hunger and virility inside him woke up, breaking out of hibernation. Spreading his arms wide-open like an eagle’s wings, he presented his manhood to the blue skies. The water cascaded over his head, down his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his erection. Receiving the downpour, he stood like that, arms outstretched for the longest time. The only thing that kept him from roaring out loud was not knowing how far his voice might carry.

  Eventually reaching for the bar of sandalwood-scented soap that had been provided, he began lathering his entire body, scrubbing it into his skin with his hands. Erin was somewhere on the lodge’s property, and he’d be seeing her soon. Had she come into his mind so often over the years because she’d wounded him so badly with her betrayal? Was it because he was torn up by regret for running away, never even confronting her about what she’d been part of? Or was it because no woman had ever compared to her and until he saw her again she’d always have a hold on him? That was what he intended to settle this weekend. He’d return to Japan with no more unanswered questions.

  In any case, Kento could smell change in the crisp Washington air.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “NO, THE MAID of honor. She’s the one Harris Denby dumped.”

  Erin pretended she didn’t hear people talking about her from, literally, behind her back, although she didn’t miss a word. She was like a dog that could hear high-pitched sounds that didn’t register with humans. It was as if the whole room was talking about her. Again. Her head started to spin. She’d only been on the island for a couple of hours, but it already seemed like a month.

  The weekend was full of planned events. Tonight was the welcome dinner. Tomorrow would be the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. The day after was the afternoon wedding ceremony, followed by the reception. And the weekend was to
conclude with a gift-opening brunch the following morning. Erin didn’t know how she was going to make it through with people pointing at her and her mother lining up men for her to meet.

  Waiters passed glasses of wine, sparkling water and hors d’oeuvres on trays. There were teeny-tiny apples stuffed with creamy cheese. Cornmeal-fried oysters. Prosciutto-wrapped asparagus. Erin grabbed at everything she could as it was carried past. She hadn’t eaten at the afternoon tea once she was commandeered by her mother, who sent her back to her room until her appointment with the makeup artist and hairstylist, deeming Erin unfit for public consumption until then.

  The stylist did work wonders, she had to admit. Since Harris had left her, she’d been in a funk and didn’t give a hoot about her appearance. So a haircut had indeed been in order, and the nice blowout would look good for the many photos Erin would have to stand for as maid of honor. Her makeup was flattering but not overdone. And the long burgundy, three-quarter-sleeved sheath dress worn with brown lace-up boots seemed spot-on for the evening.

  Erin hoped the outfits for each of the weekend’s occasions that she and her mother had shopped for conveyed maid of honor status without defying Erin’s understated personal style. Unlike the credo that less is more, her mother was always telling her that more is more, that sparkly objects garnered the most attention. But something in Erin’s very being had always been repelled by her mother’s constant flaunting of their wealth. Something very few people in her life had ever understood. Definitely no one at this wedding, the crème de la crème of Seattle. No one except...

  Her eyes inventoried the room with its enormous picture windows showing off the twilight and its bright blue skies over the trees. Erin’s scan wasn’t to admire the vista outside, though. She was looking for someone inside. A certain tall, dark-haired someone whom she was both desperately dreading and breathlessly excited to see.

  “You look absolutely radiant,” Erin managed when she hugged her cousin Christy Barclay, soon-to-be Mrs. Lucas Collins. Erin’s compliment was a stretch, because she thought the bride was a bit overdone with her ruffled yellow dress. But Erin knew Christy had to be camera-ready the entire weekend.