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She was the woman he couldn't forget. He's the billionaire she can't afford to fall for. Two years ago, Reyna's life changed on a stormy night in Townsville when a mysterious stranger stopped to help her and then she vanished before he could even get to know her. Now, starting over, she's determined to keep her past buried and her heart guarded. But fate has other plans. When Reyna lands a job at one of Australia's most influential tech firms, the last person she expects to see across the boardroom table is him. Jax Ashbourne -billionaire CEO, emotionally unavailable, and just as devastatingly magnetic as she remembers. She needs this job. He's never stopped wondering what happened to her. As secrets simmer and chemistry ignites, Reyna finds herself walking a dangerous line between staying invisible and being seen-truly seen-for the first time in years. And Jax? He's never played the long game before. But for Reyna, he just might start.
Chapter 1 JAX
The city below glittered like scattered diamonds, swallowed in part by the storm that refused to let up. I coasted into the underground garage of my building-one of the most exclusive high-rises in Townsville-its security gate gliding open with a silent whisper, triggered by the sensor embedded in my dash. The storm raged on, muffled by layers of steel and stone.
The woman-Reyna, I'd learned when she hesitantly muttered her name-sat stiffly in the passenger seat, wrapped in one of the cashmere throws I kept in the backseat. She hadn't said a word since we left the side of the road. The tension between us was razor sharp. But beneath it, something unspoken crackled-unwelcome but impossible to ignore.
I parked in my reserved spot-three slots, side by side, just for me. One held the Mercedes, another my blacked-out Ducati, the last, a sleek vintage Mustang I'd restored myself.
The elevator was private, requiring a biometric scan. She eyed the scanner like it might bite her.
"You really own this place?" she asked, her voice low, guarded.
I met her eyes. "Top floor."
She swallowed but said nothing else as we stepped in. The elevator whooshed upward, silent as sin, past thirty floors, stopping only when we hit the penthouse. The doors slid open with a soft chime.
My home stretched out in a sleek sprawl of glass, steel, and stone-an open-concept cathedral of luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the storm tearing across the coast. Warm lighting lit up polished wood floors and leather furnishings, the place designed to feel masculine but never cold.
Reyna stepped inside slowly, like she didn't trust any of it.
"Bathroom's down the hall on the right. You'll find fresh towels, anything you need. I'll grab you some clothes," I said, already moving toward the massive walk-in closet attached to the master suite.
I handed her a folded set of lounge pants and one of my softer black tees. She took them wordlessly, brushing past me toward the guest room and vanishing behind the door.
I let out a breath and headed to the kitchen, opening the built-in fridge. Top-of-the-line everything, untouched more often than not. I grabbed a bottle of Japanese whiskey-aged, rare, smooth as water-and poured a couple fingers into a crystal tumbler. The sharp burn grounded me.
When she reappeared, her red hair was damp but no longer clinging to her face, her expression unreadable. My shirt hung off one shoulder, and the pants were rolled at the waist. She looked less like a stray and more like something... dangerous in a whole different way.
"Hungry?" I asked.
She hesitated. "Not really."
"You should eat."
"I'm fine," she said again. But her voice was less biting now. Less ice, more exhaustion.
I gestured toward the couch. "Sit. Rest. You're safe here."
She didn't move.
"I've got seven cameras on the perimeter, 24/7 concierge, private security, two locked elevators, and a panic room hidden behind the wine cellar. No one's getting in unless I let them."
She blinked at me. "Jesus. What do you do for a living? Sell organs?"
That pulled a chuckle out of me. "Tech. Energy. A few investments that panned out."
"Right." She finally sank onto the edge of the couch, like she didn't trust the cushions not to bite.
I leaned against the bar, glass in hand. "Look. I'm not trying to pry. But you're jumpy as hell."
She shot me a glare that could've melted the snow outside.
"It's none of your business ," she snapped.
A beat of silence passed between us, heavy with things neither of us wanted to say.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked suddenly, eyes on the storm outside.
"What do you mean?"
"You could've kept driving."
"Could've," I said. "Didn't."
She looked down at her hands. "I'm not used to people stopping."
I walked over and set the whiskey glass down, keeping my distance.
"Then maybe you've been around the wrong people."
Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and in that moment, something shifted. A crack in the wall. A flicker of trust-or maybe it was just shared exhaustion.
I didn't push. I turned away, giving her space, and hit a button on the wall. The fire pit in the center of the living room ignited instantly, warm flames licking up through the glass base.
She flinched at the sudden noise, and I saw her fingers twitch near her side like she was reaching for something she no longer had.
"Who hurt you, Reyna?" I asked quietly.
She stiffened.
"No one ," she whispered.
"Bullshit."
She turned to face me, firelight dancing in her eyes. "What makes you think you know anything about me?"
I didn't blink. "Because I've seen that look before. Hell, I've worn it."
And I had.
"You don't know what it's like," she said, her voice sharp again. "Wondering if luck will ever smile down on you."
"I do."
She didn't respond, but I could see it-her walls, not crumbling, but cracking.
"You can crash here tonight," I said. "You're safe."
She said nothing for a long moment. Then finally, quietly, she asked, "What's the catch?"
"No catch. You leave when you want. You stay if you need. Just don't touch the Mustang, and we'll get along fine."
She gave me the faintest flicker of a smile. But there was no humor in it.
Only pain.
And mystery.
And heat.
And I knew, without a doubt, that letting her through that door had just flipped my whole world on its head.
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