Fatal Attraction: A Playboy Billionaire Romance

by Kylie Parker

  “I hope so too.” Éclair says, “I know I give you a hard time, but I don’t want to see you go out like this. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know.”

  I grin, “Well-”

  She laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re horny right now?” she leans over and places her hand on my chest, “You’re hurt.” With her other hand, she touches my cheek with the back of her palm, “Look at that pretty face of yours. I might have to find me a new regular until that heals because, I have to say, it’s not a good look for you –the broken nose, I mean.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I say, and she surprises me with a kiss, and she latches on hard. She works for one hand up underneath the hospital sheet and starts to play with me.

  I feel my breath start to grow warm from the slight panting. Éclair has always been good with her hands. She knows how to get me hard fast –plus, I’m feeling sexually frustrated after my night with Sylvia was interrupted. Her hisses move from my lips to my cheek and then my right ear where she pauses to whisper a few dirty French words. I’m tempted to pull my arm out of my sling and grab her, but the morphine is not strong enough to make me feel comfortable enough to try it. She licks my ear with my tongue as she continues to stroke my one appendage that thankfully did not sustain any sort of injury during the accident. “When you are feeling better,” she says, “You should pay me a visit… I had a swing installed at my apartment.”

  Holy shit.

  “What?” I ask, quite shocked at what she is telling me. I always knew Éclair would occasionally get kinky, but a swing? I could get down with that.

  The door to the room opens; it’s my fucking male nurse. “Oh!” he slaps himself in the face with his clipboard in a desperate attempt to cover his eyes, and he does so way to fast; I can hear the wooden clipboard make contact with his nose, and I hear him mutter, “Shit.” Under his breath. It does not faze Éclair. She just stands upright and straightens herself up. “I’m, uh, sorry,” the nurse says, “I did not realize I was… I mean… I’m going to leave, but you really shouldn’t be doing that in here.”

  Well, this is embarrassing. I cover myself up quick. “Don’t bother.” Éclair says, “I was just leaving.” She heads to the door, stopping right next to the poor guy who is still holding his clipboard over his face. She touches his hand and lowers the clipboard so that she can look him in the eye, “Keep this to yourself, would you, sweetheart?” she winks at him and boldly gives him a peck on the cheek before leaving.

  The poor guy looks like Éclair stole his breath; he’s standing there by the door with his mouth wide open. “Yeah,” I say to snap him back into reality, “She has that effect on people. Now close your mouth before a bug flies in there, man.”

  21

  It is only a few minutes after Éclair’s departure before Sylvia makes an appearance. She too had seen the video circling around online as well as the crash coverage on the news, and it did not take her long to figure out where I was at. She looks absolutely devastated, and it kind of makes me feel good to see that she is so concerned. She hurries to the side of my hospital bed, and she leans over to give me a hug. She stays there; her arms draped over my shoulders. I smile and kiss her cheek.

  “For real, man?” I hear the male nurse say, and I glare at him from over Sylvia’s shoulder –threatening him with my eyes if he opens his mouth. The man rolls his eyes and leaves the room. “Don’t be getting kinky in here.” He grumbles as he leaves.

  Sylvia laughs, “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know,” I lie, not wanting her to know someone else had been giving me a hand job not too long ago. I’m not really sure if she would care or not; it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. We have just met.

  She touches the top of my head where my bandage is and shakes her head. “You’re pretty banged up.” She gently touches my cheek, “Geeze, look at your nose!”

  “Thanks,” I grumble. I sigh, “There are literally a million other things I should be doing right now. My brother is handling things, but he could make it worse if he’s not careful. I need to be talking to a lawyer. I’m sure the police are going to come knocking on my door too. I don’t know what to do. I can’t just sit here.”

  “How long are you going to have to be here?” Sylvia asks.

  “They want me to stay here again tonight since I live alone.” I roll my eyes, “I think I would be fine, but I have a mild concussion, I guess. I just can’t be here anymore. I’m losing my mind.”

  “They just don’t want you to leave because you live alone?” She asks. She twirls some of her hair between her fingers and asks, “What if I stayed with you?”

  Well, that was unexpected. “You would stay with me?”

  “Well, you’re hurt. You really shouldn’t be by yourself right now, and it’s obvious you’re about ready to kill your nurse –and he seems willing to return the favor. I don’t have anything going on at work right now, so I could stay with you for a couple of days until you get back up on your feet.” She smiles, but she seems nervous by her suggestion.

  “You would really do that for me?” I ask. She simply nods and smiles.

  I could kiss her. I smile at the thought of having her back home with me after our night had been interrupted. I would love to have her all to myself for a couple of days playing nurse. I agree, and I think her repeatedly. They won’t let me work or anything here, so at least from home, I could be more reachable in the event Eddie needs me. Soon we are talking to the doctor, and after a few hours, I am finally being released.

  They roll me out in a wheelchair, not that I can’t walk –but it’s some sort of company policy. Sylvia has her car with her, so she drives me home. My car is probably in the dump; that’s something else I’m going to have to deal with… that is probably something that I could probably have my assistant take care of. While I chat up my assistant on the phone, Sylvia is kind enough to go with me to pick up my prescriptions before the two of us head to my penthouse apartment.

  As soon as we’re in the door, she gets me to lay down in bed and take my medicines. She makes me lunch, and I’m really thankful for that. The food I’ve had at the hospital was just awful. I’m really surprised to see that she can cook. She had apparently gone grocery shopping when she found out I had been in an accident in expectation of cooking me a get-well-soon meal. For lunch, I enjoy a chicken cordon bleu, homemade mashed potatoes, and home cooked steamed green beans. I feel like I’m eating like a king.

  She keeps me company, and we do a lot of talking. Deep talking. Like, really deep. I’m surprised. I did not realize she was so smart. Honestly, I sort of just assumed she was all looks. Éclair is the only other woman I know who has both beauty and brains. Every other woman I’ve ever talked to have pretty much just been pretty or sexy. Sylvia has so much more to talk about: life, literature, history, and so many other subjects make their way into our conversation. Soon it takes a new turn, and our intellectual talk turns into flirtatious behavior.

  At first, I don’t notice it myself, but she keeps giggling at me. Eventually, I realize my words are slightly slurred. Must be the medication. Soon Sylvia is taking out the pills to confirm, “Yup. Extreme drowsiness is pretty much a side effect on every one of these.” She laughs, “You can take a nap. You probably need it.”

  “No,” I say and convince her to sit on the side of the bed. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close, “I’m not tired.” I yawn. Damn it. She laughs, clearly thinking I'm hilarious. I am so desperate to get this woman in bed; it’s ridiculous. “Come on,” I say, “I h-aaa-te…” I can’t make words without concentrating, “I hate that our night got inter-interrupted.” I am seeing double. There is no way I am letting myself fall asleep. I have every intention of having sex with her this time, so I fight the drowsiness that I am feeling.

  Sylvia laughs and leans forward, teasing me. She kisses my lips and cheek and neck. She works her way down to my chest. She knows I’m about out; I can tell that she is not
expecting us to have sex right now, but I am hell bent on proving her wrong.

  My eyes droop… oh for crying out loud –wake up, you idiot! She keeps teasing me. I touch her breasts and then work my hand that is not in a sling down so that I can take her top off. My fingers feel numb, and it is taking way too much concentration to find the hem of her shirt. She pushes on my chest, and I fall back into my pillows with little resistance. “You’re tired, James,” she tells me and gives me a peck on my cheek, “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”

  My eyes shut, and I do everything I can to fight my sleep. Stupid pills. Soon I’m out cold.

  22

  After spending a few days out of commission, I was more than happy to make a visit to the factory just to get out of the house. I’m not used to being cooped up like that, although it has been nice having Sylvia wait on me hand and foot, but now she has to get back to work. I tried staying home one day without her to continue recouping, but boredom got the better of me faster than I thought possible. Sylvia playing nurse with occasional making out had been a great distraction from my torn muscles, bruising, and minor fractures.

  I call my driver; I definitely am not going to attempt to drive while on these crazy strong pain meds. Plus, my personal car is at the dump now, so he is going to have to pick up a company car to come get me. I wait around a lot longer than I am used to; obviously my driver is taking longer because he has to figure out a vehicle situation. When he finally calls me to let me know he is outside of my apartment building, I am quite relieved. Truthfully, I’m glad it took him so long. I had exaggerated my own abilities to get ready with my injuries, and it had taken significantly longer than I had estimated. I’m in more pain than I am willing to admit out loud.

  I go out and meet my driver out in front of the apartment building before loading up into the back seat. He is kind enough to ask me how I am feeling, but he is not friendly enough to me to ask about everything going on in the news. Good. He would get an ear full from me if he was brave enough to question things. Soon we are pulling up outside of the office and factory, and there is a swarm of reporters outside. Luckily, I’m not in my regular car, so I am not spotted right away. “Geez,” I say under my breath.

  “Would you like me to pull around back, sir?” My driver asks.

  “Yes, please do,” I say as I attempt to duck down to avoid being spotted. I definitely do not want to talk to these people right now –especially not since the media has started circling ridiculous suicidal stories. A bunch of assholes is what they are. Seriously –who gives them the right to start shit like that?

  We pull around back, but we are ultimately spotted as my driver attempts to whip it around back. By the time he pulls up to the back entrance, the paparazzi has already made its way to the back of the building. Just my luck. I call Eddie and tell him to have security come escort me. I don’t feel like getting pushed around today –not with the sort of injuries I have. I wait around in the car for several minutes which unfortunately only allows the jackasses to swarm my car like vultures. I try to remain calm, but honestly, the sudden attention is giving me a bit of anxiety. This is not what I need right now.

  Soon the company’s security team is clearing a path for me, and one guy opens up my door and puts a hand on my shoulder as I climb out of the car. He walks with me, one hand on my shoulder to lead me, as the rest of the men push the crowd back. I can hear the reporters shouting at me, “Mr. Mont! Mr. Mont! Do you care to comment about the recent outbreak of illnesses that investigators are claiming has been traced back to your supplements?”

  “Mr. Mont! Did you knowingly distribute a poisoned product to the unknowing public to avoid taking a loss on the faulty supplements?”

  “Could you give us a comment, Mr. Mont?”

  “Mr. Mont! Is it true you attempted to harm yourself after receiving word that your company is being sued?”

  “Mr. Mont, is it true that you have spent the last week on suicide watch?”

  If it was not for the security team, I would probably punch one of these reporters. Soon we are in the building, and the back door is locked tight to prevent any unwanted guests from making their way inside. I cringe slightly and relax my right arm in the sling. “Are you all right, sir?” the head security guard asks.

  “I’ve been better,” I say.

  The guy fiddles with his fingers for a moment, “Um… sir…. What they’re saying about you isn’t true, is it?”

  I poke out my chest like I want to fight him right now –it would be a huge mistake, really; he’s twice my size, and I have some mildly fractured ribs, “No! It’s not true! Whatever this is, we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

  “I certainly hope so.” Voice rings out over the small crowd of employees that have gathered around me. I look up and see an officer, a crime scene investigator, staring back at me. “Mr. James Mont, I presume?”

  I frown. This guy is looking at me like I’ve done something. “I hope you have a warrant,” I say with a hiss.

  “Believe me, I do.” He says, “And I hope you are planning on cooperating fully with our investigation.”

  I take a breath and straighten myself up, “Of course.” I say, although I already have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach about this guy.

  He crosses his arms, “Good. We’re just now beginning our investigation today. Your brother kept insisting that we bring a warrant, so that’s just what we’ve done.”

  Good job, Eddie, I think to myself. I nod, “As well you should. I don’t know what is going on here, but I can assure you we have never committed any sort of business negligence here at Shattered INC.”

  “I’m sure.” The man comes closer to me, “Agent Roman.” He sticks his hand out at me. I frown. He sees that my arm is in a sling. He chuckles and switches hands, and we do an awkward left-handed shake.

  “James Mont.” I say, “CEO. I can assure you, sir, that I have no idea what is going on here.”

  “Well, hopefully, my team can shed a little light on this situation.” He is looking at me like I am to blame for all of this, and it is really pissing me off. “I don’t know if you are aware how serious this is, Mr. Mont.” The man says, “The body count has risen since yesterday.”

  “What?” I raise a brow, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we have nine bodies in cold storage with similar symptoms in LA plus two additional bodies nationwide –all confirmed to have been taking your supplements.” The inspector says.

  My throat tightens, “Eleven dead?”

  “Eleven.” He says, “And there are dozens more in the hospital with similar symptoms to the deceased. And so far, you sir, are the only common denominator. Your brother already called for the products to be pulled from the shelves; it did not take much convincing from our part. We’re confident whatever is going on originated here. Now it’s a question as to what.”

  I think I’m going to be sick. “Where is Eddie?”

  “He’s in your office. Being carefully watched to make sure he does not try to dispose of anything. And I will warn you right now, Mr. Mont, don’t try to cover anything up.” He has a serious look on his face, “The last thing you want right now is to be accused of tampering with evidence.”

  “I won’t.” I say, “Believe me, I want to get to the bottom of this just as badly as you do. Probably more. I’m going to take a look around at the factory, but after that, if you need me, I will be in my office.”

  He nods, saying he has a lot of work to do, and I head to the factory to do a little investigation of my own.

  23

  After several hours of roaming around aimlessly in the factory, I wind up in my office sitting behind my now empty desk. The investigating officers cleared pretty much everything out: my hard files, my computer, and they even emptied out my desk –even taking that stupid picture of my old man and me from when I was a kid. Eddie is nervously sitting in a corner. He looks like he is losing is mind even worse than me. I suppose that makes sense.
I have a pretty hefty inheritance to fall back on if everything goes to shit; he has everything resting on the success of this factory. Right now, the factory is shut down –which means he’s not getting paid, which means his debt is only getting worse with each passing second.

  We are silent for a considerable amount of time, “Are you going to be okay?” I ask finally as I lean back in my desk chair.

  He looks up at me, “I don’t know.” He admits. I can tell he is still angry with me; he probably has a huge mix of emotions right now. He stretches slightly in his chair, “I looked at everything in that factory. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The investigators are going to be taking samples of all of our products back to some lab to do some testing. They say after that we can restart production; there is nothing they can do legally to keep us from working right now, but the brand name is being drug through the mud by the media.”

  “I looked around too, and I didn’t see anything. I even went through half those files before the cops took them away and nothing.” I say.

  I hear Eddies’ cell phone start to go off. He sighs and answers it, “What?” he hisses into the phone. He pauses and then looks up at me, “Do you know a Sylvia?”

  I nod, “Yeah.”

  “She wants in,” Eddie says.

  “Tell them she can come in,” I say, and Eddie tells whoever he’s talking to, to let her inside.

  “So who is she? Some new fling?” He asks.

  “I’m not sure what she is,” a slight smile passes over my lips, but I quickly try to hide it. Eddie noticed, I think, but he does not say anything about it.

  Eddie sighs, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. One of my sister's kids is in trouble again, and I-”

  “You don’t have to do anything.” I snap. This is what really pisses me off. Ever since Eddie found out my dad –the man who raised him –was not his real father and that he has all these other half siblings, he’s been blowing his money on every one of those leeches. They keep taking advantage of him, and it is really starting to get to me. “This is why you’re in debt, Eddie.” I say, “I mean it, man. Knock it off. Stop letting them screw you like this.”