My Boss, the Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  Yeah, right. I’m nervous things have changed between us. That now neither of us is going to be able to put what happened out of our minds.

  “Morning,” she says. She sounds bright and breezy, and I feel a sweep of relief.

  “Good morning. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good! You caught me getting ready.”

  “Getting ready for what?” I query.

  “Work,” she says, as if I’ve asked her the most obvious question in the world.

  “You’re not coming in today,” I state. “The doctor said you need rest.”

  “I can rest at work.”

  Frustration rises inside me. I can’t see her today. I have a ton of work to do, and I won’t be able to concentrate if she’s there and I’m worried about her. “No, you can’t! You’ll be racing around at a million miles an hour and that’s the last thing your head needs.”

  “Leon—”

  “You’re not coming into work!” I yell.

  She hangs up on me.

  Gritting my teeth, I dial Albie’s number, then frown and cancel the call. I’m disturbed by what happened last night. Nicola has been living at Albie’s for two years and, as far as I know, he’s never made a move on either her or Izzy. But last night, he was definitely staking out his territory. He might as well have urinated all around her. It’s the first time anything like that has ever happened. Hal, Albie, and I have never gone for the same girl, and there’s never been any competition between us, not outside the sports fields.

  Maybe her accident made him realize that his feelings for her run deeper than he thought. It gives me an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, and makes me feel hot, as if I have a fever.

  So I don’t ring Albie; I ring Remy instead. As head of HR, I have the mobile numbers of all the staff. Remy works with Hal’s sister, Jules, in the grooming center, but she’s still at home when I call.

  “Don’t worry,” Remy says in her adorable accent. “Nix is not coming to work.”

  “You’re sure? Only she seemed adamant…”

  “Well, I think all the shouting put an end to that.”

  I wince. “Tell her I said sorry.”

  “All right.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “How is she?” I ask.

  “She is fine, Leon. I checked on her several times in the night, but she slept well, and she only has a leetle headache. She has taken her painkillers, and she has agreed to stay at home today and tomorrow to rest. Albie was very insistent.”

  I grit my teeth. “I bet he was.”

  “Pardon?” She pronounces it pah-donne.

  “Nothing.”

  “You can always come and see her, Leon.”

  “I’m busy today,” I say curtly. “I’ll see her on Monday, if she feels up to it.”

  We say goodbye, and I hang up. I’m not going to go around there when Nicola is on her own. The best thing now is if we’re alone as little as possible.

  Ellie, one of the girls in the main office, offers to cover for her, and I get my first taste of what it would be like if Nicola no longer worked here. Ellie makes me the wrong coffee, she can’t work the phone system and repeatedly cuts off my calls, she types at forty words per minute whereas Nicola types eighty on a bad day, and when I lose my temper and snap at Ellie, her eyes fill with tears and she runs off to the Ladies’. Nicola would have rolled her eyes, made me an Americano with one sugar, and told me to keep my panties on while she sorted out the problem. I would have scowled at her, but I like that she stands up to me.

  I miss her. I ache for her. I want to kiss her again. But I can’t, and I know it, and so I have to apologize to Ellie and put up with her sniffles at her desk for the rest of the day. On Friday one of the young guys in the office takes her place. He doesn’t cry, and his typing speed is considerably better than Ellie’s, but he isn’t half as pretty to look at.

  And now I sound as if I’m living in the nineteen forties. Ashamed of myself, I end up in an even worse mood, and I’m as glad as the rest of the office when five o’clock finally arrives.

  I often work on Saturday, but I decide to take a break for once. I’m going to go fishing. Just me, the rod, the fish, and the beautiful Northland weather, over at Lake Manuwai. I’ll take the dogs, and they’ll keep me company. It’ll be the perfect retreat from my hectic life, and there will be nothing there to remind me of Nicola in the slightest.

  It turns out to be the worst day imaginable. For a start, it pours down, and even though I have a raincoat and wet weather pants, within thirty minutes the rain has somehow poked fingers down my neck and through a tear in the waterproof pants, and I’m soaked through and fed up. The dogs hate it, and even though Wishbone is sufficiently subdued—I’ve been giving him the silent treatment since Nicola’s accident and he knows he’s in the doghouse—Polka-Dot refuses to sit still and gets tangled in my fishing line, while Bullseye gets spooked by something in the long grass, leaps onto my lap, and knocks my sandwich into the lake.

  To top it all, it doesn’t seem to matter what I do—I think of Nicola. I think about her sunny smile, her wicked sense of humor, her soft lips, and the way they felt when I pressed mine against them. I think about her gorgeous laugh, her beautiful braided hair, and the way she lights up when she talks about the stars.

  And I think about the fact that I came very close to having her, but I was an idiot, and I looked the other way while opportunity jumped up and down beside me, waving its arms.

  If I didn’t work at the Ark, would there be more between us?

  Yes! Absolutely! Of course! Three possible answers I could have given. But I gave a lame-assed reply, Maybe. I thought I’d sit on the fence and hedge my bets, because I don’t want to make a mistake again. It’s perfectly understandable after what I went through. And fucking cowardly. I hate myself.

  But it’s done. I’m not going to tie myself up in knots with regrets. I’m just going to have to move on.

  I spend Sunday catching up on some work, and then in the evening I head over to Hal’s place to meet up with Albie, Stefan, who’s another vet, and Fitz, who’s Izzy’s brother and the Ark’s estate manager. There’s a Super Rugby match on—the Blues are playing the Crusaders with a seven-thirty kickoff, and it’s a good excuse to have a few beers and spend some time with the lads. I’m looking forward to it. If anything’s going to be able to distract me, it’s a night like this.

  Izzy’s over at Albie’s place with Remy, Nicola, and some of the other girls from the Ark. Hal said they’re watching Mamma Mia! and making themselves tequilas. I doubt Nicola is drinking much because of her medication, but I smile to think of her getting tipsy. Some people get aggressive when they drink; others get loud or obnoxious. On the few occasions I’ve seen Nicola have a few drinks, she ends up dancing. The girl really knows how to move.

  But we’ve got buffalo chicken wings, and chips and dip, and it’s not long before we’re well into the game and having a great time. Hal’s current rental house has a large enclosed lawn, so he leaves the sliding doors open, and our dogs wander in and out as they please. My four meander about, sticking their nose into the flower pots and knocking over Izzy’s stone statues. Stefan’s Jack Russell, called—somewhat unimaginatively—Jack, is lying on his back in front of the TV with his legs in the air. Fitz’s Irish Setter, Fred the Red, is out playing with mine. Miss Daisy is, of course, sitting right by Hal, her head on his knee. All the dogs are rescue animals. It’s one of the drawbacks of working in an animal sanctuary—you fall in love when they come in and can’t bear to let them go.

  I realize the irony of that statement and have a long drink of beer. It’s not far to walk home to my house from here. I could do with some alcohol to numb my thoughts.

  I manage to make it through the first half of the game without too much trouble. It’s not until the second half that Hal says, “I hope the girls are having a good time.”

  “They’ve got tequila, chocolate, Abba songs, and glittery nail polish,�
� Albie says. “They’ll be thoroughly enjoying themselves.”

  The way he talks about them as if he’s in charge of them all and knows them better than anyone else irritates me. The others just laugh, though.

  “How’s Nix feeling?” Stefan asks.

  “She’s better,” Albie says. “I’ve been trying to make sure she doesn’t do too much, but you know what she’s like. I practically had to tie her to the bed the first day or two.” He swigs his beer, but his gaze slides to mine. I return it steadily, although inside I’ve got that hot feeling again.

  Just ignore him, I tell myself. It’s all in your head. I’m jealous because he gets to spend more time with her than I do. That doesn’t mean he’s into her.

  “It was a nasty fall,” Fitz says. “She was lucky it wasn’t a more serious injury.”

  “Yeah,” Albie replies. “Shook us all a bit. It’s strange how things like that can change how you feel about a person.”

  “What do you mean?” Stefan asks.

  Albie shrugs. “It made me realize I want us to be more than friends.”

  Hal leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and studies the carpet, but he doesn’t say anything. The knot in my stomach is so big now, it physically hurts.

  “Have you spoken to her about it?” Fitz asks.

  “Not yet. I will, though. I’ve got the serious hots for her. I’ll have her in bed within the month.”

  “Jesus.” I get to my feet before I realize what I’m doing.

  Stefan and Fitz slowly sit up. Hal lifts his head to study me, although he doesn’t say anything.

  Albie rises and puts his beer bottle down. He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans and meets my gaze. His eyes are amused, taunting. “What’s the matter, Leon?”

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” I say quietly.

  He laughs. “Talk about dog in the manger. You don’t want her for yourself, but you don’t want anyone else to have her, either.”

  “She’s not a fucking sports car, Albie. We don’t talk about the girls like that.”

  A flicker of impatience crosses his face. “There aren’t any hidden cameras here. You don’t have to act superior when the girls aren’t around. We can say what we think when we’re on our own.”

  “Albie…” I say with a note of warning in my voice. My head’s buzzing. Some small part of my brain registers that something’s awry here, but I can’t think straight.

  He ignores me. “I think we should just be honest. I know you want her. Why don’t you just admit it?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, I do. She’s hot as. She walks around my house in her underwear, and I tell you, she has a cracking figure.”

  A siren goes off in my head.

  His eyes are bright, feverish. “I think I’ll make a move on her tonight. Get her into my bed, fuck her into next week. I’ll make sure she can’t walk tomorrow.”

  My fist meets his chin before my brain has even processed what I’m going to do. He stumbles back, crashes to the floor, and I leap on top of him, drawing my arm back for another punch. The thought of him touching Nicola is like dynamite inside me.

  All the dogs start barking, and I feel a pair of teeth on my shirt trying to drag me back, although I don’t know which of them is doing it.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” Hal tries to pull me off Albie, but it takes Stefan and Fitz together to haul me up. I try to free myself from their grip, yelling at Albie, but Hal stands between us with his hands on his hips. To my surprise, it’s Albie he’s glaring at.

  “Get up,” he snaps. “You fucking idiot.”

  Albie rises slowly, holding his chin with a frown. “I think he broke my jaw.”

  “I’m not surprised. You fucking deserved it. Didn’t I tell you not to go too far?”

  “You told me to get a reaction.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Hal pushes him on the shoulder, and Albie glares at him.

  “What the hell is going on?” I finally wrestle myself free from Stefan and Fitz. I’m angry now, beginning to suspect I’ve been played.

  “Hal and Izzy thought it would be a good idea to provoke you into realizing how you feel about Nix,” Albie says. He feels around his teeth with his tongue and glares at me. “I drew the short straw.”

  “This is all a fucking set up?”

  Albie gives me a rueful smile, and Hal shrugs. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  I turn my glare to Stefan and Fitz. “Are you in on it too?”

  Stefan studies his shoes, while Fitz scratches the back of his neck.

  “What are you all, twelve?” I pick up my wallet and phone where I left them on the table and click my fingers at my dogs. As if conscious of my mood, they come to my side quietly.

  “Don’t go,” Hal says. “Come on, man, I’m sorry.”

  “This is the last thing I needed,” I say. For some reason I’m full of emotion, bordering on tearful. I haven’t cried for years. What the hell’s wrong with me? “I don’t need my feelings for Nicola pointed out—I’m perfectly aware of them. But didn’t it enter your thick skulls that I might have my reasons for not wanting to take it further?”

  They study me silently. Then Hal says, “Leon, she’s not Angela.”

  I meet his eyes. I’m closer to Hal than almost anyone else bar my parents, and I love him like a brother. But at that moment, I have to clench my fists to stop myself from hitting him too.

  I turn and, my dogs at my heels, walk out of the house.

  Chapter Seven

  Nix

  On Monday morning, I walk into my office with a stomach full of butterflies.

  I haven’t seen Leon since he walked out of the house on Wednesday after dropping me off. I haven’t spoken to him either, after I hung up on him. Remy told me he’s rung her several times to see how I’m doing, but obviously he’s decided to keep his distance from me.

  Something weird is going on. Albie came home from Hal’s house last night with an odd bruise on his chin, hardly said two words to me, and went off to his room because he had a ton of work, he said, although later I heard sounds of Call of Duty coming from his PlayStation, so I know that was a lie. This morning he’d left before I came out for breakfast, so I haven’t had a chance to quiz him about it.

  Somewhat uneasily, I hang up my jacket, make Leon his usual Americano, stir in a spoonful of sugar, then take it through to his office.

  For a guy, his office is incredibly neat. He really does have a touch of OCD. It’s a large room, with a modern desk on which rests his laptop, iPad, phone, and a few files, all squared up, with a pen lying neatly to one side. We have a separate room for official meetings, but he has a long meeting table with six chairs in his room, and we often sit here with files spread out when we’re working on the Ark’s finances. On the other side is a sofa and two armchairs, overlooking the fields beyond. Sometimes I find him sitting there, reading through reports. Today, though, he’s at his desk, studying his iPad.

  “Morning,” I say, and place his coffee in front of him.

  “Morning. Thank you.” His gaze lifts to mine. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m great, thanks. The headache has gone and it’s just a bit tender. Good as new.” It’s only a little lie—the headache is still there, but the pills dampen it, and I do feel better.

  “I’m glad.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Um… can I ask you a question?”

  He picks up his coffee and sips it. “Sure.”

  I sink onto the edge of the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Did something happen at Hal’s place last night?”

  He puts down his cup and returns his gaze to his iPad. “No, why?”

  “Albie was kinda weird last night, and he left early this morning. I got the feeling he was avoiding me.”

  Leon shrugs. “Sorry, no idea.” He clears his throat. “I’ve had an email from the PM.”

  “Oh?”

  “She’s ask
ed me if I could give a presentation to some of the cabinet ministers. She was Minister for Children before she became PM, so kids’ welfare is obviously a hot topic for her. She’s looking to bring in a bill to set up a new Ministry for Vulnerable Children, and she’s asked me to outline the work the Ark has done around the connection between animal cruelty and violence in the home.”

  I give him a huge smile. “That’s amazing, Leon, oh, I’m so pleased for you.” He’s done a lot of work behind the scenes with ministers and the community to educate the public. It’s fantastic exposure for Noah’s Ark, but—and I know this will be more important to Leon—it will be a big step forward for the welfare of children in the home.

  His lips curve up a little. “Thank you,” he says.

  Our gazes lock, and I can’t look away. His eyes are so blue. I know I’ve been staring at him too long now, but my brain has gone blank, and I can’t think what to say.

  Eventually it’s he who drops his gaze, breaking the spell, and I blow out a breath, feeling as if he was holding me, and now he’s let me go.

  “When are you planning to give the presentation?” I ask.

  “The PM suggested Wednesday at three p.m. There will be about a dozen MPs present, so I’m going to work on the presentation for the rest of the day, and tomorrow, as much as possible.”

  “Of course. Can I help?”

  He adjusts the angle of his iPad on the table. “I was going to do a PowerPoint…”

  I smile. “And you want my expertise?” He has an amazing head for figures, and he’s ambitious and good with people, but he’s never had the time to learn the ins and outs of PowerPoint, and I usually do all his presentations for him.

  “Please,” he says. “I’d like the best photos we can find of the Ark, of the veterinary center, and especially if we have any with children, if their parents have signed the permission form.”

  “Poppy took some this weekend at the petting farm,” I tell him, naming Albie’s older sister, who has recently left her job as a kindergarten teacher to run the place. She works closely with the King fathers, who run the We Three Kings Foundation that grants wishes to sick kids, as many of their wishes involve being with animals, and this weekend she had several special visits from sick children.