His San Diego Sweetheart. Yahrah St. John
from the table for some privacy.
At the silence on the other end, she continued. “Cat got your tongue?”
A sigh sounded on the other end. “So you found out?”
“Uh, yes, I did. In this day and age, did you really expect I wouldn’t discover the truth?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t thinking that far in advance,” he responded. “Another body part had taken over my brain.”
Miranda colored at his meaning. “What are you hiding, Vic?”
“My bank account,” he replied. “Same as you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Miranda Jensen, trust fund baby of the Chicago Jensens, a prominent family in the finance world. Or at least that’s what it said online.”
So he’d researched her too? “Did you know who I was when you met me in the café?”
“No, just the opposite,” Vaughn responded. “I knew nothing about you except that I’d met a beautiful woman that intrigued me, but I meet gorgeous women all the time. When you weren’t forthcoming with information about yourself, it made me cagey, so I decided to look into your background.”
“Why?”
“Because...similar to you, I’ve amassed a certain wealth and find myself watchful for gold diggers. I apologize that I wasn’t honest with you, Miranda. I admit I’m a bit jaded by my past experiences. In any event, it’s no excuse. And for the record, my real name is Vaughn Ellicott.”
An apology? She hadn’t expected that. And she now knew his given name. Vaughn. She kind of liked the sound of it.
“Wait a minute. Did you say you’re wealthy?” He certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance if he had wealth of his own.
He snorted. “Don’t sound so shocked. Just because I look like a surfer dude doesn’t mean I don’t work.”
“Ouch.” She touched her chest as she felt the sting of his words. “Of course you do. I guess I just thought you might be one of those guys with a contract or endorsements or something to surf full-time.”
“You thought I was that good?” Surprise was evident in his voice.
Sasha motioned Miranda back over to the table but she shook her head and said. “I watched you for an hour. You know you’re that good.”
“I’m glad you think so. But I didn’t call you for praise.”
“Oh no? Why did you call?”
“So we could start again,” Vaughn replied quickly. “I’d like a clean slate with you, Miranda. So you can get to know the real me. I called to ask you for a second date.”
Miranda’s heart lurched in excitement. She had enjoyed spending time in Vic’s—no, Vaughn’s—company, but he hadn’t been forthright with her. Why should she go down that rabbit hole again? It wouldn’t be prudent. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other again.”
“So who is lying now?”
“Excuse me?”
“We had a good time. And you and I both know that the night might have ended differently if you hadn’t got cold feet.”
“I didn’t get cold feet. I just don’t sleep around with men I barely know which clearly I didn’t since you couldn’t be bothered to give me your real name.”
“Duly noted.” He ignored her dig. “Now about that dinner? My treat, someplace nice and I promise I’ll even dress up and everything.” Miranda remembered the distressed jeans and T-shirt he’d worn that hugged his tight bottom and bulging biceps. He’d looked darn good to her. Was she ready to see this new wealthy Vaughn Ellicott and see him all spruced up?
Yes, she was. Even though she knew it was fruitless effort, she could enjoy one last evening with him before she began her husband-seeking mission again because he certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance.
“I take your silence as acquiescence, so I’ll pick you up at your hotel at seven p.m. sharp. And Miranda?”
“Yes?”
“Wear something sexy.” Seconds later, the line went dead and Miranda stared down at it in disbelief. Her circumstances had changed in mere seconds from being alone to a date with a fine man she was extremely attracted to.
Miranda walked back to the table and Sasha was staring at her wide-eyed. “Well?” Her brow raised a fraction. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
Mirada shrugged. She didn’t understand it herself. She should be running in the opposite direction from a charmer like Vaughn who’d brushed aside his dishonesty under the rug and got her to accept his dinner invite.
“Don’t you dare? Spill.”
Ten minutes later, Sasha was glancing at her in bewilderment as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns. “What?”
“You’re going to give this guy another chance after he lied to you about something as simple as his name?”
“Why not?” Miranda shrugged. It wasn’t as if she had men lined up at her door. Plus she was about to tie herself down in marriage for the next year. Why not enjoy what could be the final night of her freedom? “He explained why he was less than honest when we met. He’s encountered a lot of gold diggers, just like I have. If anyone can understand I can. Plus, he’s attractive as hell.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sasha replied. “Vaughn Ellicott is considered quite the commodity in San Diego, but no woman has ever captured his heart. The man is a notorious playboy. About the only thing he can commit to is the ocean and his fascination with surfing.”
“Who’s to say I need him to commit?” Though that’s exactly what she needed. “Perhaps I just want someone to spend some time with? It’s not easy being alone.”
“Of course not, sweetie. I just want someone worthy of you.”
Miranda sighed heavily. She might have found one, a man who didn’t care about how many zeros she had in her bank account because he had plenty to go around on his own. Which meant she was no closer to finding her husband than she’d been twenty-four hours ago.
The evening came quick and Vaughn was happy it did. Once he’d discovered that he had no reason to fear that Miranda was after his money, he felt relieved. After they’d talked, Vaughn spent the remainder of the afternoon at the beach riding the waves like he’d stolen something. Then he’d returned to his home in La Jolla for a hot shower. Donning his favorite navy suit, Italian loafers and a splash of cologne, he was ready for the night.
Opening his five-car garage, Vaughn stared at the various vehicles. He wasn’t in the mood for the Ferrari tonight. He certainly didn’t need the Humvee. Or the Bugatti. No, tonight, he intended to woo and he knew just the vehicle. He reached inside the custom-made cabinet that housed all the keys to his babies and started toward his Rolls-Royce Phantom. Vaughn walked over, hopped in and, when the engine purred to life, he zipped out of the garage.
Was he trying to impress Miranda? Maybe just a little. Usually he was a take-it-or-leave-it kind of guy, but for some odd reason, he wanted Miranda’s approval. Wanted her to see him with new eyes and as a viable catch she wouldn’t mind having on her arm or in her bed.
He arrived promptly at 7:00 p.m. He pulled up to the hotel’s entrance and found Miranda outside waiting for him. What had she thought was going to happen if he knocked on her door? Or maybe she didn’t trust herself if they were alone in a room together? The anticipation of what if caused Vaughn to exit his Rolls-Royce with a bit more pep in his