The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1

by Kristina Blake

  “About what?”

  Reluctantly, I faced him. “I can’t do this. This can’t continue.”

  “Because you’re worried about your career?” he asked patiently, his expression revealing nothing.

  “Yes. And my integrity. This will only end in flames—the bad kind. Better we end it here. Italy was brilliant, but what happened needs to stay in Italy.”

  “Now who’s leaving who abandoned in the woods?” His words were harsh, but his tone was gentle.

  “You can handle it.”

  He looked me over. “With you, I’m not sure I can.”

  “You know it’s for the best. It’s like Mount Vesuvius. Even that which is breathtaking is capable of destruction.”

  He nodded. “I do know, but I don’t want to.” He paused, hesitant to acknowledge the truth of my resolve. But he did. “You’re an asset to the company, Madison. The way you conducted yourself with Dr. Giordano showed me that. I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave. I won’t allow it. So I’ll let you go, if that’s what you want. But know I am always here, waiting for you.”

  My heart was torn, but I knew it needed to happen. “Thank you,” I said, suddenly very tired. I had slept on the plane ride back in sheets that I still couldn’t believe were cotton. They were so soft, but I suddenly no longer cared for all that was lavish. I wanted my t-shirts and my jeans, my hoodies and my scratchy Vampire Diaries sheets that I’d had since high school.

  “You’re exhausted,” he noted. “Take tomorrow off.”

  “No, I don’t want to be treated any differently than the rest of your employees.”

  “You’re not. With the product launch out of the way, many in the company will be taking some time off to catch up on sleep. It’s probably been days since some of them have seen their beds.”

  As overwhelmed as I was, and with the jet lag from traveling, a day off did sound good. It was the time I needed to regroup. “Okay. I will. But if Ms. Goldstein needs me for anything, please tell her to call, and I’ll come in.”

  I wasn’t sure if he would. If Rawn thought I needed rest, he would see to it that I got it. But I had to say it, for my sake if nothing else.

  ***

  “Like I said before, with a stranger, sex is just sex,” Annie said, hitting the puck with her pusher, aiming for my goal.

  “Except that Rawn is no longer a stranger. He’s my boss,” I reminded her, defending my side of the air hockey table, which also balanced my half-finished tray of nachos.

  We were at the student union of the university. There was a lot of chatter and bustle around us, which I found comforting. It was nice being back, feeling like a student again. A techno-dance folk band founded by one of the students performed nearby. A group had formed to listen, cans of soda in their hands, along with their books. It was all so carefree. Limitless.

  “He might not be a stranger anymore, but he’s an asshole. All bosses are. Yours just happens to be an über big one. A man does not leave a woman alone in the woods, whether he thinks she knows her way back or not.”

  “He seemed pretty guilty about it,” I said, not sure why I was defending him.

  Annie went on the offense again, hitting the puck against the side of the table so that it spun wildly towards my side. I didn’t have time to reach it. “Goal!” she shouted triumphantly, throwing her hands into the air.

  With good humor, I threw a nacho at her. The yellow goop landed in her red curly hair. Bullseye.

  “You bitch,” she laughed, using a napkin to wipe it out. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

  “I haven’t lost yet,” I said, pushing all thoughts of Rawn out of my mind.

  We played several more rounds of air hockey, not really keeping tally, except for a few victory dances here and there when a goal was scored. The crowd around the band grew, and soon the student union was in party mode, a daytime rave with no alcohol but a lot of energy. By the time we retired the puck, we had to push our way out of the game area amidst a sea of rattling bodies.

  “I guess no one wants to go outside to play,” Annie said when we escaped the crowd. “Let’s get a mocha.”

  Thinking of the drink served to me on the jet, I revised Annie’s plan. “Actually, let’s stop by the grocery store and then go home. I’m supposed to be resting.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “It’s not like your boss is keeping tabs on you.”

  Knowing Rawn, I wasn’t so sure. “Please. I just want a day in my pajamas. We’ll drink mochas—special mochas—and watch scary movies.” Scary movies were Annie’s favorite.

  “Damn. You mentioned scary movies. I have no choice but to agree,” she said. “Plus, I’m a little intrigued about these special mochas. Do they involve alcohol?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’m definitely sold.”

  Back in our apartment, one movie and three special mochas in, I changed my mind about spending the day in my pajamas. For reasons unknown, other than the Bailey’s Irish Cream in my system, I felt restless, my fatigue gone. I wanted what had been denied me before. I wanted my night under the stars.

  “Hey, let’s go back to the student union and listen to the band,” I suggested, turning off the TV. “I want to meet some cute boys.”

  Annie threw a pillow at me. “Would you make up your mind? I was just getting comfortable. Plus, we have a dozen movies to watch. This is supposed to be a marathon.”

  “Alcohol makes you lazy,” I goaded. “Zombies or cute boys?”

  “There are a lot of zombies that are cute boys,” she countered.

  “Do you mean in the movies or real life?”

  “Both,” she said, standing. “The band isn’t at the student union anymore. Wanting to make it a real party, they’ve moved down to the abandoned warehouse. I got a text from Luke.”

  “Luke is there?”

  Stumbling slightly because of the mochas, Annie meandered away from the couch and towards her room. “Luke has had a crush on you since freshman year, but you’ve never given him the time of day. Why the interest now?”

  Because it isn’t the day I want from him. Just the night.

  “He’s cuter than he used to be,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “He’s been working out.”

  “That he has,” Annie said, grinning. “You should fuck him. Get over that controlling boss of yours by getting under tall, blonde, and handsome Luke.”

  ***

  “So you’re a Luke. Does that mean you’re hung like a bull?”

  Wait. That didn’t sound right. I could barely hear my own voice with the numbness in my head. Perhaps it had been a bad idea buying a bottle of vodka to bring with us to the party at the warehouse. Almost as bad of an idea as letting Annie dress me. The black mini-skirt barely hung past my ass, and the blouse may have been loose with long sleeves, but it was so sheer, my sapphire-blue bra could be seen underneath. I may as well be walking around with no shirt at all.

  At least the ballerina slippers were comfortable. That had been my one stipulation. I needed something practical to walk through the woods in. Tonight, I was going to make my fantasy come true.

  With Luke.

  “Am I hung like a what?” he asked, surprised. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “Oh, you heard me,” I said, moving closer into him. “Want to grab a taxi? I need some fresh air.”

  His face lit up. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Throwing his beer can to the ground, he grabbed my hand and escorted me out of the building. The warehouse was near the docks of the river, but taxis weren’t usually far, not even in a city as tame as Portland. We rounded a corner into an alleyway, heading for the main road, but Luke stopped and pressed me against the brick of the closest building.

  “Is this good?” he asked, placing a hand on my thigh.

  “No. Not here,” I insisted, my head less foggy now that we were outside. “I want to fuck you under the stars.”

  “We’re under them, bab
y,” he said, tilting his head towards the sky.

  Sure enough, now that the rain clouds had passed, the night was clear, allowing the stars to sparkle at their brightest, even amongst the litter and graffiti of the warehouses around the docks—beauty shining upon dirt.

  It wasn’t the ideal place, but it would have to do. Judging by the bulge in Luke’s jeans, it would be hard to convince him to wait until we reached the woods. If I was going to fuck him, it would have to be now.

  “Okay, cowboy,” I said, unbuckling his jeans. “Let’s do this.”

  He moaned at my touch. “I’ve waited so long,” he decreed, running his hand up my thigh as I worked his buckle. “I’ve wanted this since I first saw you walk into Physics 101. Something tells me you’ve been worth the wait.”

  Know I am always here, waiting for you.

  No. I would not let the memory of Rawn’s words ruin this for me. This was my fantasy. I wanted to be touched in the starlight—and not blindfolded. Luke was a friend. He wasn’t a stranger. He wouldn’t abandon me afterwards. He wouldn’t try to dominate me.

  Determined, I pulled down Luke’s jeans, revealing a set of boxers underneath. And a highly erect cock. It was perfectly pleasant, but it didn’t turn me on, not the same way Rawn…

  “Fuck me,” I said to Luke. “Fuck me hard.”

  “I will,” he promised, and then reached his hand fully up my skirt and pulled my thong down to my feet. Turning me around, he ran his hands across my bare ass. “God, your curves are irresistible.”

  I didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted him to get it over with. I reached behind me, feeling for his cock so that I could guide it inside, but Luke had another idea. He began kissing my neck, trying to be seductive and make the moment last. He wanted it to be special.

  I may as well have been watching zombies munching on the unlucky.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pulling my thong back up and straightening my skirt. “I can’t do this. It’s not fair to you. Or me.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s fair,” he said. “Don’t leave.”

  “I have to,” I said, facing him directly. “Forgive me.”

  And then I ran off to find a taxi. I wouldn’t be heading to the woods. Just back to my apartment to crawl into my pajamas—exactly how I should have been all night. There had been nothing wrong about the way Luke touched me. He was perfectly pleasant. My impatience to get back home had nothing to do with Luke at all.

  He just wasn’t Rawn.

  Chapter Eight

  After the disaster of the previous night, it was almost a relief to walk into Cepheus Scientific. Even the ghost heads of the renowned scientists in the lobby didn’t creep me out as much.

  “New girl,” the security guard greeted as I walked through the turnstile.

  “Muscles,” I greeted back.

  The first thing I noticed as I walked into the Product Development Department was the noise. Or rather, the lack of it. My first day everyone was in a rush to get to a meeting or make a phone call. Now, it was empty. “Hello,” I called out, backtracking into the reception area, having rushed through it before in fear Russell had beat me in.

  To my surprise, Mellissa did not sit behind the desk at reception. A man did. A very attractive man with bright green eyes similar to my own, a Texas tan, and hair the color of sand. He was well built with arms that could sweep a woman off her feet and steal her away.

  I have officially stepped into the twilight zone.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, not seeing a badge on the man.

  He seemed put off by my question. “Can I help you?” he countered.

  An awkward standoff followed, until he cracked a wide grin that showcased his perfect white teeth. “I’m only messing around. I’m Conrad.” He picked up the name plate from the desk and read it. “You must be Mellissa, Aurora’s new receptionist.”

  Confused as to who he was, I corrected him. “I’m Madison, her new assistant.”

  “Sorry, darling. My mistake. I didn’t realize she had so many newbies. That’s the problem when a company continues to grow. People move up and away from the more remedial roles.”

  He may have clarity, but I still didn’t understand why the department was empty…or why this Conrad guy sat behind the desk, as drool worthy as he was.

  “So…Can I help you?” I asked again.

  Behind me, Ms. Goldstein laughed sweetly. “No one can help him, I’m afraid,” she said, joining us at the desk. “Madison, this is Conrad Goldstein, my ex-husband. He handles all the PR for the company. Don’t worry, he doesn’t come around to annoy us often.”

  She jested warmly. Clearly, their divorce had been amiable. It gave me hope. If two exs could still work together, then so could Rawn and I.

  They would have had beautiful babies, I mused. Brad and Angelina would have had a run for their money.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking Conrad’s hand. Then, I turned to Ms. Goldstein. “Is Mellissa okay?”

  “I hope so. She called in sick today. Half of the building has now that word has gotten around that starting tomorrow we’re jumping straight into planning another product launch. But I think she might actually be ill. She sounded terrible, the poor thing.”

  “So Conrad is playing receptionist?” I asked.

  From his seat he laughed loudly—warm and hearty. “Sweet Jesus, no. I was just waiting for Aurora. I want to go over notes for the launch.”

  The launch seemed like a big deal, which wasn’t good for me. I had no clue what they were talking about. I didn’t ask, afraid of looking inept.

  “We have you to thank,” Ms. Goldstein said. “Mr. Jackman told me how well you handled the situation in Italy. The CEO it is absolutely thrilled we won the contract. She is even on board with the mass market agreement.”

  The product launch was for the telescope? I tried not to let the news show on my face. I wanted them to believe I already knew.

  “I just can’t believe how fast it’s moving,” I said, speaking truthfully. “Dr. Giordano only just signed the papers. The ink is still fresh.”

  Ms. Goldstein agreed with me. “I have concerns too. When things move too fast, they get messy. But it turns out the Germans saw a partial blueprint of Dr. Giordano’s design during their negotiations. Not the whole thing, but enough that we are certain they will try to build their own telescope. It’s important that we’re the market leader, so we want to beat them to it. We’ve spoken with our manufacturing department. The telescope is going to be released in two months.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Conrad said, flicking a pencil across the desk. “Two months to get the press on board is not a lot of time. I have to come up with something big. It ain’t going to be no BBQ.”

  “I’m glad your staff can write better than you speak,” Ms. Goldstein said.

  Conrad leaned back in the chair. “That’s why I pay them the not so big bucks.”

  “Is there anything I can help with?” I asked. It was my job title—to assist.

  It was as if I’d just asked Ms. Goldstein to tie her shoe doing the chicken dance. Mellissa had warned me she was a bit of a scatter brain, but I was starting to wonder if she had any clue what her assistants did.

  “Why don’t you take the day to gather potential contacts,” Conrad suggested, stepping in. “I want big names at this launch. People who are influential. Don’t be shy. Put whoever comes to mind on the list. When it’s complete, I’ll comb through it and make the necessary phone calls.”

  Great. More contact lists.

  “You mean like Stephen Hawking?”

  It was a minor joke, but Conrad lit up. “That’s it, Goldilocks. People who will bring prestige and legitimacy to the product.” He gave me his e-mail address. “The contact list will go straight to me. I’d like to keep it under wraps. My company isn’t as large as Cepheus Scientific. My staff don’t get paid enough to stay loyal with something as big as this.”

  “Got it,” I said. “I’ll have it to
you by the end of the day.”

  “Slow down, take your time,” he said. “I’m more tortoise than hare.”

  “Does that make me a hare?” Ms. Goldstein asked, smiling.

  “No, my dear. You’re a dove—a class all of your own.”

  ***

  It was nice having the office to myself. Avoiding the harsh glare of the computer screen and certain I’d be spending many days in front of it as soon as the company jumpstarted back into action tomorrow, I went to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out across the city, my notepad in hand.

  I’d made an impression because of Italy, which thrilled me to no end, but I had to share credit with Rawn. This was my first opportunity to stand out completely on my own. It may only be a contact list, but if I could think of someone really clever, it may secure my position at Cepheus Scientific.

  However, the more I paced in front of the window, the city below a blur as I fell deep into thought, I realized the standard product launch just wasn’t enough, no matter who was there. Because Cepheus Scientific sold mostly to institutions, not the public, their launches were formal—an afternoon lunch with a lecture highlighting why the product was innovative or superior. It was all business, as stiff as an election campaign.

  To grab the attention of the general public, the launch needed to be taken to a whole new level—given the red carpet treatment, something Hollywood and Harvard could appreciate.

  A party of stars, in more ways than one.

  Motivated by my certainty that I was onto something, I sat on the floor near the window and spent the rest of the day outlining a proposal to end all proposals. When I had my notes in order, I typed them out on the laptop—the one that belonged to Rawn’s assistant. Mine was so clunky compared to the sleek ones around the office, I was too embarrassed to bring it in.

  “I hope you’re on honeymoon for a while,” I said out loud as I typed on a keypad so light, it was as if my fingers floated on air.

  When the proposal was finished, I didn’t hesitate to send it to Conrad. I had to, knowing my courage would falter as soon as my adrenaline died down. It was possible I was overstepping my bounds, but I knew it was a good idea.