Seduced (The Billionaire's Command #1)

by Victoria Villeneuve

  * * *

  Despite Lisa’s assurances, I lay awake in my bed that night, staring at the ceiling. I had never been so confused about anything before in my life. This wasn’t the sort of thing I normally did. I wasn’t that kind of woman. It’s not like I had anything against people who had one night stands, absolutely not. It just wasn’t the sort of thing I personally did.

  And yet, I’d done it. More than that, Mark had completely dominated me, and I liked it! Why the hell did my body react the way it did? Had it just been so long since I’d had any sex at all that anything would have turned me on? It had to be something like that.

  Eventually I told myself it didn’t matter. I was never going to see Mark again anyway. We were leaving in less than 48 hours. In two days I’d be back in Minneapolis, back to my predictable life. I could go back to work, back to analyzing stock data. After all, it was what I did best. This had been a great holiday, but it was time to check back in to reality.

  Sure enough, as we flew back to Minneapolis, I leaned back in my seat. I hadn’t seen Mark since that night, and now I was definitely never going to see him again. Hell, even if I wanted to, I didn’t even know his last name. He was a memory now, a memory that caused a flicker in my nether regions every time I thought about it.

  For Lisa’s part, she took great joy in my torment about it. She teased me constantly, knowing how uncomfortable it made me. But even so, life quickly settled back in to normal. There was always more paperwork to do, more to fill out. And yet, I still found my mind drifting away in the middle of the day. I’d stare out the window of my little office at the great view of the parking lot and think about Hawaii, think about that night with Mark. I tried to force those thoughts to the back of my head, but no matter what, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. You need a hobby or something, seriously. You’re acting like some sort of sex crazed maniac I thought to myself as I fantasized about Mark once more.

  He was pretty much the sexiest, nicest, best guy in bed I could possibly imagine. There was literally nothing he’d ever done that felt weird, creepy or anything like that. He was perfect. It was too bad I was never going to see him again.

  Two weeks after I came back from Hawaii, I was settling in for an evening of relaxing in front of the TV. I decided to do some laundry, so wearing my pyjamas I shoved one of those ‘healthy’ TV dinners in the microwave and started flipping through the channels. I had a pile of work to do in the spare bedroom that had been turned into a home office, but whatever. It was Friday, the work I had to do could totally wait until the weekend. Right now, I was going to catch up on the episodes of CSI I’d missed.

  Just as the microwave beeped to let me know my dinner was ready, there was a knock at the door. For a second I didn’t even recognize the sound.

  “What the hell?”I muttered to myself. No one ever knocked at my door. The last time it happened had to be what – three years ago, when Mr. Ulstein down the hall had collapsed and his wife needed me to call 911 because she couldn’t see the numbers on the phone.

  I opened the door, thankful that I lived in a safe enough neighborhood that I didn’t need to worry about there not being a peep hole, and my mouth dropped open.

  Mark was standing there. Mark, from Hawaii. Sexy Mark, with that wavy brown hair that drove me insane and those glistening blue eyes that seemed to look straight into my soul.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, not realizing that my mouth said the words I’d been thinking.

  “What, no hello?” he asked with a grin. That was when I realized he had a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. An orchid, some daisies, a few other exotic flowers I didn’t recognize. I’d never really been the flowers type of girl.

  “No, you don’t get a hello until you tell me what the hell you’re doing, standing here at my door?”

  My privacy was enormously important to me. It was something I took very seriously, and I didn’t like having a guy who was still pretty much a complete stranger finding out where I lived and showing up on my doorstep.

  Mark’s smile faded.

  “I thought I’d surprise you, that’s all,” he said, looking a bit dejected.

  “Surprises are good when they’re not incredibly stalkerish,” I replied. I might have been a bit harsher than I otherwise would have been, but this was serious to me. I placed a premium on my privacy. My mother spent years trying to figure out where I was, trying get back into my life, trying to suck the life and soul out of whatever happiness I had created for myself. It was incredibly important to me that I stay as hidden as possible, and a man I’d met one night showing up out of the blue, unexpected on my doorstep was a sign that I wasn’t quite as hidden as I liked to imagine I was.

  “Look, you’re right,” Mark replied, opening his arms wide, in a disarming way. “I’m completely out of line here. I’m going to go. Listen, here’s my card. It’s got my cell number on it. I’m going to be in town for another two days. If you want to meet, go out on a date, I’d love to see you again. If you don’t, I understand. Sorry for crossing a line.”

  He placed the flowers in my arms, and the next thing I knew, he was gone. It was almost like he had never been there in the first place, but the business card and flowers in my hands proved otherwise.

  As soon as I closed the door behind me once more I began to second guess my every move. I had never been the most self confident person, my mother spent my entire childhood making sure of that, but I didn’t think I was this paranoid about everything.

  Had I overreacted? Was that a totally normal thing for people to do? Should I have invited him in? No, it wasn’t normal. It had definitely crossed over into the line of creepy.

  But still, even if it was a bit creepy, even if it wasn’t exactly what normal people did, should I call him? I wasn’t sure. I stared at the card that I placed on the table while I got some water for the flowers. I briefly considered checking the flowers to make sure there wasn’t a hidden camera in them or something, then scolded myself for being so paranoid and simply put them on the table.

  I knew I was a very private person, but was I being too private? I wasn’t sure. I tried to give Lisa a call, tried to get her advice, then remembered that she and Rob always went out for a romantic dinner on Friday nights. She would rave about how nice it was on Monday, like she always did. I smiled to myself as I thought about it.

  I eventually caught up on those CSI episodes I was meaning to watch, but my brain was elsewhere. I spent the weekend wondering if I should call Mark. A couple of times I even picked up the phone and started dialing the number, but stopped myself. Why was I calling him? He was a one night stand with stalkerish tendencies that lived like six states away. There was no way this could be a relationship. And yet, a part of me kept trying. My body kept trying to get me to contact him. Was I that sex starved, did I really enjoy that night with him so much that I was willing to do it again?

  Sunday afternoon I finally got my answer. With a sudden energy I didn’t know I had, I got up, grabbed my phone and punched the numbers in with the ferocity of someone who knew that if they stopped they would never start again. Before I had the chance to think about it, before my brain had a chance to say no, the phone was ringing. Mark picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello, Mark speaking.”

  “Hey, Mark, it’s Caroline,” I answered, not really knowing what else to say. Was that what I should have said?

  “Oh! Hey Caroline, it’s nice to hear from you.”

  “Yeah, you too. Even though I called you. I guess. Well, seeing as I kicked you out the other night...”

  JUST STOP TALKING my brain begged, realizing this sentence was going nowhere but downhill, fast.

  “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

  “No, no. You were right about that. I crossed a line, I shouldn’t have done it, and I need to apologize for it. I’m sorry, Caroline.”

  “It’s alright.”

  �
��Can I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner? I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning, but we can grab a bite to eat before then if you’re up for it.”

  “That sounds nice, where do you want to meet?”

  “Well, you’re the local, where do you recommend?”

  An hour later I was sitting in a booth at a local restaurant, made up to be a 50s diner style, that served hands down the best milkshakes in town. I stared at my hands, my mind wandering as all those dark corner of my brain that still filled with self doubt came to the forefront.

  What if he isn’t coming? What if he decided you were too bitchy at your apartment? What if he decided he actually doesn’t want to see you again?

  Suddenly, all my fears were eased as Mark slipped into the booth across from me. As I looked up and saw those gorgeous cheekbones, that stubble that looked to be a day or two old, I could feel electricity pounding through my body, my heart beat rising, my chest pressing against my shirt. Memories of that night in Hawaii came flooding back. I wanted to feel those same feelings, experience the ecstasy I’d gotten from that night.

  “Hey,” he greeted casually. “Sorry I’m a couple minutes late, had a bit of trouble finding the place.”

  “That’s alright, I just got here myself,” I replied. It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t like I’d been waiting more than ten minutes.

  “I wanted to say sorry in person for showing up unexpectedly at your door the other night.”

  “Thanks. It’s ok though, I’m a little bit more paranoid than most people, I should probably get all the crazy out of the way on our first date.”

  Mark laughed. “Well, I’m pretty sure my crazy can top yours. After all, I’m the one who acted like a creepy stalker.”

  “And I’m the one who acted like you showed up to murder me. Who brings flowers to a murder scene?”

  “Don’t forget the business card, so the police would know who did it!” Mark joked back, and I laughed, just as the waitress came by to take our drink orders.

  “Why don’t we move away from a topic that makes me look like an idiot?” Mark asked. “How are you finding adjusting to life after Hawaii?”

  “It’s tough, let me tell you. When I stare out of the view of my office onto the parking lot, it’s definitely not Waikiki Beach. But hey, I’m usually working and not staring out of windows, so it’s not too bad. Crunching numbers keeps my mind active, and I actually do enjoy my job.”

  “Well, you’re pretty much the first person I’ve ever heard who works with numbers admit that.”

  “We all just pretend we have the worst jobs on the planet so no one will come and take them from us.”

  “I think there’s a whole generation of high schoolers behind you that want nothing to do with math the instant they graduate, I don’t think you need to worry.”

  “Maybe, but just to be safe. In this economy, you never know!”

  “How did you decide to become a financial analyst, anyway?”

  This was a lie I was used to telling. I had a whole lie about my childhood all set up. I liked to tell people that my parents were both teachers, that they paid for my way through college, and they had a little house in the suburbs. They sent me $100 every month just because they liked to take care of me. Reality, of course, was a whole different story. Somehow, however, I didn’t feel like I should lie to Mark. I didn’t tell him the whole story, of course, but what I did tell him was the truth.

  “Honestly, it wasn’t out of some underlying passion for business, or anything like that. I had to get away from some personal stuff, and the best way to do it, I thought, was to get an education and a decent job. I did some research, figure financial analysis was probably the best way to go in terms of time spent studying, job options after graduation, and all that sort of thing, and here I am.”

  Mark looked at me, his eyes piercing through me. It was like he could tell there was something I was holding back, something I wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t ask.

  “That’s a sign of a strong person, to be able to overcome barriers like that and be successful.”

  I shrugged. “I dunno, anyone would have done it.”

  “No, don’t sell yourself short. I imagine there are a lot of people in the same situation as you who don’t dare leave their comfort zone the way you did.”

  I suddenly started to feel embarrassed. I muttered thanks just as the waitress brought us our food. Thankful for the interruption, I started eating, and Mark did as well, leaving the conversation about my past unfinished. I was glad. I didn’t tell people, especially not men, about my past. I’d learned that lesson.

  As the night went on, we moved to lighter subjects. Same as in Hawaii, I found that Mark was charming and funny, he had great stories to tell, and when it was finally time to leave I felt that same sinking feeling as I had the night in Hawaii. I didn’t know if, or when I would see Mark again. After all, as he had said last time, he travelled a lot for work, but was based in California. It wasn’t exactly a commutable distance for a relationship, and I knew all too well how well most long distance relationships ended.

  Holy shit, are you thinking about a relationship now? Seriously? This is exactly the sort of thing you avoid. Remember what happened the last time you had a boyfriend? The last time you trusted him? It all blew up in your face. You’re absolutely not dating this man, as nice as he might seem.

  “So all this talk, and I still don’t actually know what it is you do.”

  “I run a couple of my dad’s companies.”

  “Well yeah, but what are those companies?”

  Mark shifted in his seat, almost uncomfortably. He hesitated before answering. “For the most part, the Hibiscus chain of resorts.”

  I could practically feel my jaw dropping on the floor.

  “Hold on... you’re telling me your dad owns the Hibiscus resorts? Like, all of them?”

  “Yeah. I don’t like to tell people before I get to know them a bit, sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but you know, privacy and all that.”

  “I think you understand that privacy is important to me,” I replied wryly.

  “Shit. So you must be, a millionaire, at least.” I could practically feel myself cringing as I spoke. I wanted to just act casual about things, but how do you act casually when you find out the guy you’re on a date with is heir to half the luxury resorts in the country?

  “At least. Truth be told my wealth is probably in the billions. My parents created a trust fund for my sister and myself when we were young. I’m not going to lie, we’re very well off.”

  “Why weren’t you in the penthouse then, of the resort in Hawaii?”

  “I never book under my own name. I like to be treated like anyone else would be treated. I generally try to book a middle-of-the-road room and the staff never know who I am. Well, except for one exceptionally bright housekeeper one day who had researched the company to get her job. She got a promotion to management that same day.”

  “Wow. Shit. I can’t believe it. I don’t even know what to say. Like, how do I talk to a billionaire?”

  “The same way you were talking to me before was working pretty well for me.”

  I realized how silly I must have sounded and blushed.

  “Sorry. I’m being rude.”

  “No, not at all. I’m sure everyone who finds out has the same reaction, just most people don’t say it out loud. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “Serious? Are you serious? You’re not just pulling my leg?” Something in me just couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe it was real. Surely a man this funny, this charming, this sexy couldn’t also be rich. Like, that’s just winning the life lottery. No, more than that, the lottery doesn’t usually pay out billions.

  Mark grinned as he pulled out his wallet, motioning at the waitress to bring the check.

  “Here. Maybe this’ll change your mind,” he replied, handing me his credit card. The Amex Centurion, surrounded by black, with Mark
Selzer as the name on the bottom. This was the fabled Black Card, invitation only, for the richest of the rich.

  “Alright, I believe you,” I answered, handing him back his card. “It doesn’t make it any less surreal.”

  “Well, I’m still the same as I was three minutes ago, so don’t worry about that. It’s not like my snootiness level has gone up because you know how much money I’ve got.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. Listen, do you want to come back to my place for coffee or something? Or you know, we could go back to yours, it’s probably nicer than my apartment.”

  “I wouldn’t know, you wouldn’t let me in your apartment last time,” Mark teased.

  “Well, take my word for it. There are flea infested motels by the highway that are nicer than my apartment.”

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. Coffee sounds nice.”

  It was weird, going back to my place, knowing that I was driving a billionaire in my early 2000s Honda with the passenger side window that wouldn’t quite close and seats that had holes from God knows what.

  “Sorry about the car.”

  “You know, Caroline, you don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m used to this sort of thing, I don’t need luxury.”

  “What kind of car drove you to the restaurant?”

  “A Lincoln Town Car,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “See? This is definitely a step down from that.”

  “I said I don’t need luxury, I didn’t say I don’t have it. You know, it’s funny, most women when they find out about me insist that the Town Car drive them home. I like your different reaction.”

  “Well, if your Town Car drove us, I’d be stranded at my apartment tomorrow.”

  “That’s a very sensible way of looking at things.”

  I pulled into the driveway and silently cursed myself for not cleaning the apartment before our date. I mean, it’s not like my place was messy, I kept it pretty organized, but I didn’t expect to be bringing home a billionaire. He would probably think I was a gigantic mess.

  “Sorry about the mess,” I told him as we walked in.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, making himself at home on my couch in the living room while I put the coffee on.

  “Cream and sugar?” I asked.

  “Just cream thanks, if I’m really lucky I’ll get some sugar later.”

  I threw a dish towel at him and he grinned. As he looked at me, I could almost sense that he knew. He knew my stomach had just done a 180 at those words, knew that my panties were getting moist, that my skin was tingling. Surely he just had to know.

  We sat down with the coffee and got to talking. Pretty soon, the talking became more than talking, and we moved into my bedroom. My world spun as Mark proved that Hawaii wasn’t just a one time fluke. He made me feel things I could never have imagined. Orgasm after orgasm rocked my body as he discovered me, not only with his shaft, but with his mouth, something I’d never experienced before.

  I couldn’t deny it anymore: when Mark completely took over, when he had complete and total control in the bedroom, I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my life. I didn’t understand it, didn’t realize why my body reacted the way it did when he ordered me around, pinned me to the bed, brought me closer and closer to the edge of orgasm then denied me, making me beg for it, making me plead for that sweet release I craved so strongly. But I did. I did react that way, there was definitely no denying it anymore.

  As I fell asleep, Mark’s arms wrapped protectively around me, I thought about the fact that he was flying out tomorrow, that once more I was only going to have him for a night. For the first time in a long time, I wanted more than that.