Page 7 of The Billionaire's Secret Heart

"You're right," I said, bringing my empty mug to the carafe, snagging Tate's along the way. "It's not a big deal."

I refilled our mugs and handed Tate his as he said, "Did you look over the report on the new physics engine?"

"I did," I said, trying to switch gears to work. "I'm not surprised it's running behind. We scheduled it that way, knowing it would hit some snags. But I think you're right. We might consider delaying development of Syndrome 2 a few months so we can incorporate the new features. The graphics would be unbelievable if we used the new engine."

"It won't be ready for GDC," he said, referring to the Game Developers Conference.

I shrugged. "We have enough buzz without it."

Tate and I had branched off from Winters Enterprises’ typical investments in business—real estate, shipping, and emerging resources—to start a gaming company. So far, we'd mainly built games, but in the last year, we'd begun development on a new physics engine that would change gaming as we knew it. Once we got the bugs worked out, we'd be able to license the engine to other developers, as well as use it in our own games. Both creatively and financially, it would be a massive coup.

So massive, I really should have been able to keep my mind on our conversation. Instead, all I could think about was Josephine. I'd fucked her right there on the marble island. She'd been so fucking tight and sweet. I'd never be able to look at my kitchen without thinking of her hot pussy clamping down on my cock, milking my orgasm from me as she screamed her release. I shook my head, trying to chase off the memory.

I was not going to go chasing after a one-night stand. It was only asking for trouble. I'd forget the way we'd slept together, the way she'd curled into me, her long, blonde hair streaming over my chest, her soft breasts pressed against my skin. The way she'd smelled, sweet and clean, how she'd curled her fingers around my arm as she'd drifted off, holding me close in sleep. It didn't mean anything.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Tate asked. I looked over to see his sharp blue eyes narrowed on my face. No one knew me like Tate. We were born three months apart and looked enough alike that people often mistook us for twins. We'd lived a charmed life when we'd been too young to remember it. By the time we were five, and everything fell apart, we'd learned to stick together. As the youngest males in the Winters clan, Tate and I had been a team. He knew what was on my mind almost as soon as the thought formed. It was useless to try to hide anything from him—what he didn't sense, he'd pry out of me.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I can't really explain it. I know I don't know her. I know we just fucked. But I can't leave it like this. Maybe I'll find her, take her out, and it doesn't work. I can live with that. But I have to know."

Tate shifted gears from trying to talk me out of going after Josephine. He knew me well enough to sense when he'd be wasting his time. And true to Tate, he was loyal, first, last, and always. He'd done his best to talk sense into me, and now that I was determined to go over the cliff, I'd do it with him at my back.

"So," he said, getting practical. "What did you find out about her? Atlanta isn't that big. We can find one woman."

I laughed. Tate was right. Not about Atlanta not being big. It was a city of five and a half million people. One woman could easily disappear into the masses. Except I was a Winters. This was my city, and I had resources. If I really wanted to find Josephine, she wouldn't be able to hide from me for long.

"She's a grad student at Tech," I said. "CS, HCI specialization. She has a car, so she might not live nearby."

Tate whistled. "At least you picked a smart one," he said. "Does she know what you do?"

I shook my head. "We never even got to last names."

"Then call Cooper," Tate said, as if it were just that simple. Actually, it could be just that simple. Cooper Sinclair was like an older brother. All the Sinclairs were. We'd grown up together, and they were the closest thing to family we had outside the Winters clan. They also ran one of the best private security companies in the US, and their main offices were based in Atlanta. If I called Cooper, or one of his brothers, they could probably find Josephine for me before lunch. They'd also give me shit about it until the day I died.

I didn't mind that. Not really. Giving and getting shit was a key part of male bonding. Growing up with brothers and male cousins, plus all the testosterone in the Sinclair family, I knew how to take shit without getting bent out of shape. Hell, even my baby sister, Charlie, could dish it out. My gut told me that finding Josephine would be worth a ribbing from Cooper and the rest of the guys. What held me back wasn't my pride. It was more about self-protection.

I didn't know Josephine as well as I'd like to, but I sensed she was not the kind of girl who would take the Winters lifestyle in stride. We were high-profile to begin with, and that was only considering the media, business, and factors outside the family. We were also interfering as hell and nosy in the extreme.

Tate and I were the most laid back in the family. I always thought that came from being so young when shit went bad. Charlie was younger than us, but as the baby of the family, she felt she had too much to prove to relax. I could only imagine what would happen if word got out that I was interested in a woman. Just the thought of Charlie grilling her on her intentions gave me a chill.

Remembering the look in her eyes as she'd walked into the VIP room at Mana, the wonder and the nerves, I knew I'd have to ease her into everything that came with dating a Winters. She didn't even know Tate and I owned the club. If I called in Cooper, she'd be tossed straight into the deep end. She'd already run on me once. If I wanted to keep her, I'd have to play this nice and slow.

"I'd rather avoid Cooper if I can," I said to Tate. "I'm better off keeping Josephine under the radar."

Tate gave me a short nod. I didn't need to explain to him. "Let's head down to the office for a few hours and check last night's run. Maybe we'll think of something," he said.

"Good idea." I grabbed my wallet and keys off the counter and headed to the front door to find my shoes. I had a regular cleaning team, but they couldn't do anything about the crap I left lying around the place. They cleaned, but they didn't pick up after me. I found my shoes right where I expected, kicked off beside the front door. Leaning over, I reached for one and spotted a scrap of paper crumpled beneath the bench. My heart thumped in my chest as I picked it up and smoothed the paper flat. In handwriting I didn't recognize, it said,

Su. 3:30 Son. Lab

Reading it again, triumph surged in my chest. This was Josephine's. It had to be. I knew it wasn't mine, and no one else had been in the apartment since the cleaners except Tate. Just in case, I handed the note to him. He read it and shook his head.

"Not mine. You think Su is Sunday?"

"No idea." It looked like a note reminding her of a meeting. Probably on campus, given the word 'lab' in the description. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I opened the browser and typed in:GA Tech son lab

The first result wasGeorgia Tech Sonification Lab: an interdisciplinary research group based in the School of Psychology and the School of Interactive Computing at Georgia Tech. Fuck yeah. If Su meant today, I knew where I could find my girl.

Fate could be a bitch, but if I were lucky, she loved me today.