Billionaire Unchallenged

by Scott, J. S.

  Billionaire Unchallenged

  Copyright © 2018 by J. S. Scott

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission.

  Cover Design by Lori Jackson

  ISBN: 978-1-946660-63-3 (Print)

  ISBN: 978-1-946660-62-6 (E-Book)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Preview for Ensnared

  Brynn

  I feel like I’ve spent every one of my twenty-nine years on this earth completely deprived of sweets!

  Regretfully, I shook my head at the tuxedo-clad waiter, and then watched him walk away with his tray of mouthwatering pastries. I’d already wasted my allowed calories for the day on alcohol, so I couldn’t give in to the temptation to sample one of the carb-laden sweets, too.

  “Well done, Brynn,” my friend Laura remarked wryly from her seat beside me at the small table. “I’m not sure I have as much restraint as you do anymore, but then, I don’t have to try to shove this curvy body into a size four anymore.”

  I smiled at Laura. “I don’t either,” I reminded her. “And I noticed that you didn’t exactly help yourself to any, either.”

  At the age of twenty-nine, I still had an active modeling career, but Laura and I had made a pact years ago that we were going to be healthy, and prevent each other from being dangerously thin just so we could keep our careers as models. We’d bonded over that promise, a vow that had probably saved both our sanities and our health in an industry that was weight and size obsessed.

  “I have a shoot next month,” she said wistfully. “I might be a plus size model, but I still have to fit into the jeans.”

  “You look gorgeous,” I answered emphatically. My friend was beautifully curvy, and drop-dead beautiful.

  For years, Laura and I had fought for body diversity in modeling, and it had been a long, difficult road. Sure, the industry had started to use some models who represented a healthy, realistic lifestyle, but it wasn’t enough.

  Until the fashion industry got real and stopped considering a size twelve as plus size, there was way too far to go.

  I was a straight size model, but only barely. I was a solid size six, and I was healthy. Years ago, I’d starved myself to fit into the size two or size four that clothing designers wanted me to model. But once Laura and I had hooked up and decided we’d rather be out of the profession than destroying our bodies for a lifetime, my mindset had changed. We’d both known we were on a dangerous downhill slide, mentally and physically. So we’d fought for body diversity because we’d already had a name in our profession.

  Honestly, we were still fighting.

  But we’d both reached the top of our game at sizes that were healthy for us. So I saw that as a small win.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that I could eat whatever I wanted.

  I loved sweets, but my ass did not.

  Even though we’d made a promise to stop starving ourselves years ago, Laura and I were still supermodels, and that meant we had to eat well, work out, get plenty of sleep, and stay healthy.

  “But I’m thirty-three,” Laura finally said wistfully. “Other than a few lucrative gigs, my career is pretty much over.”

  I snorted. “Only because you want it to be,” I said.

  There was no reason in hell that she couldn’t keep modeling. She’d chosen to slow down and be picky about what jobs she accepted, just like I had.

  She shrugged. “I’m tired of globetrotting. And I’ve been happier since we started the Perfect Harmony clothing line.”

  Really, I’d been more content myself since I’d relocated to Seattle a year ago, too, following Laura so we could pursue our own clothing company, a line that was deeply personal because we felt that we represented women of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

  We’d opened a small boutique on Fourth Avenue downtown, and I spent the majority of my time designing a line of clothing with Laura that we both loved.

  I fit better in Seattle than I ever had in New York City. Not that the pace was that much slower, but the vibe in Seattle was…different. And our Perfect Harmony styles were so suited to this city.

  The brand was all about personal style rather than fashion, and I loved every single creation. Laura and I had wanted comfortable, but stylish. Functional and easy to clean. Things that are definitely never considered in high fashion.

  “Do you think we’ve stayed long enough?” Laura asked hopefully.

  I laughed. Laura and I had come to the fundraiser cocktail party only because we both believed in the cause—domestic abuse. But I had to admit it was pretty much a sleeper.

  As I surveyed the room, I spied plenty of older men in tuxedos, but they all looked like they were talking business, and their wives were standing dutifully at their sides.

  “I already wrote my check, so I think we can get out of here pretty soon,” I replied. My main goal had been to donate. It didn’t matter whether I stayed at the venue or not.

  I had nothing against a good party, but I was nursing the second drink I’d ordered because I couldn’t have another one.

  “I wrote mine, too,” Laura said happily.

  I surveyed the crowd again, noticing that most of the people hadn’t really moved from their positions during the last hour we’d been at the fundraiser. Everybody was still chatting in small groups, or at tables like the one Laura and I were occupying.

  I’d so rather be home working on my latest design for a handbag than hanging out at this party.

  Note to self: Skip the cocktail fundraisers and just mail the check.

  I was just about to tell Laura that we could leave when I spied a familiar face.

  I wasn’t actually acquainted with the guy I was currently staring at, but I knew exactly who he was. “That’s Carter Lawson,” I informed my friend. “And I’m pretty sure that the big guy beside him is the oldest Lawson brother, Mason.”

  I’d seen Carter Lawson’s picture plenty of times. The gossip magazines loved him. His brothers Mason and Jett? Not so much. The youngest and oldest Lawson brothers seemed to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. But Carter was the marketing genius behind the mega successful technology company, and his brothers were more hands-on with the majority of the innovative products that Lawson seemed to be cranking out at a speed that was almost scary.

  “He’s hot,” Laura said with awe in her tone.

  There was no denying that Carter Lawson was attractive. Okay, maybe more than a little attractive. He was in-your-face gorgeous. And seeing as I was five foot nine, I could appreciate the fact that he was tall. Really tall. The only male near him who topped his height was the guy built like a bulldozer next to him. His brother Mason. �
��I agree,” I finally answered. “Carter is definitely hot.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Carter,” Laura said. “I was talking about his brother.”

  I eyed the man next to the world’s perfect specimen of manhood to check out his sibling. Mason was ruggedly handsome, and the guy was a good two inches taller than Carter. He was broad, with massive shoulders, but he didn’t look like he had spare flesh on his body. He was just…ripped.

  “He’s attractive,” I conceded.

  “He’s a lot more than just attractive,” she answered, not taking her eyes off Mason.

  “I think we’re staring,” I told her.

  “I doubt they’ll notice. They seem to be in a serious conversation.”

  Laura was right. Carter and his older brother weren’t at the event to have fun. Their expressions were stoic as they talked to two older men. I had a feeling the night was all business for them.

  I felt a tingle go through my spine, and then an uncomfortable jolt directly between my thighs. It wasn’t a sensation I was accustomed to, so it caught me by surprise.

  I’ve never met him, but I’m attracted to him. How weird is that?

  Then again, what woman wouldn’t want to drag Carter Lawson to the nearest bed?

  He put his hand in his pocket, looking as relaxed as he would be at home watching a ball game. Formal wear apparently loved him. But it wasn’t just his physical appearance that wouldn’t let me stop watching him. There was something else.

  Carter Lawson was magnetic, sophisticated, and appeared to be the master of his world, and I had to wonder whether anybody else could tell that most of what he presented was a façade. I was fascinated because I was, for some reason, convinced that it was all an act. Maybe because so much of my own public persona was a lie, I could recognize another fraudster.

  I have vulnerabilities, even though I present a confident exterior. And so does he.

  Not that anybody ever saw those weaknesses. And I was fairly certain nobody saw Carter Lawson’s, either.

  I was startled as he suddenly turned his gaze in my direction, catching my eyes and pinning me to my chair like I was a bug in a science experiment.

  It wasn’t comfortable.

  In fact, it was decidedly unnerving to be the subject of his intense gaze.

  But I still couldn’t break from his gaze.

  He looked at me like he could see into my soul. I wasn’t sure whether I was creeped out or mesmerized that he seemed to see the real me when nobody else did.

  He recognizes somebody like him.

  In an instant, I could sense how powerful he was, yet still realize that he was somewhat of a fraud.

  A grin slowly formed on his sensual lips. Not a huge smile, but the kind of sexy expression a man has right before he takes a woman to bed and completely rocks her world.

  “Brynn Davis and Laura Hastings? Oh, my God. I’m so excited that you’re here!” I heard a high-pitched voice squeal as my eyes were still locked on Carter Lawson.

  I ignored it because I couldn’t seem to look away from the man whose eyes were stripping me bare.

  My heart was galloping, and every nerve ending in my body was alive.

  I was entranced.

  I was captivated.

  And I didn’t want to break the connection, even though it was unsettling.

  “That’s us,” Laura answered warmly right before she put her elbow into my arm to get my attention.

  It was almost painful when I had to tear my eyes away from Carter’s. His look was a challenge, and I wanted to figure out what he was daring me to do. But I looked away to acknowledge the newcomer beside the table because it was the polite thing to do.

  I had a public persona that I was well-trained to pay attention to whenever I wasn’t alone, whether people recognized me or not.

  The young woman sat down in the chair next to me. “I’m Stephanie. I’m so excited. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I just had to tell you that I love your positive body image blog.”

  The younger woman was pretty, and she was probably a decade younger than I was. “Thank you for following it,” I said with genuine gratefulness.

  Social media and online presence were critical for a model. Laura and I had millions of women who followed our blog and social media, and I was appreciative to every one of them who did.

  They’d helped get me to where I was right now.

  “It makes my bad days better,” she said earnestly. “I guess it reminds me that it’s okay to be different.”

  And that was exactly why Laura and I were out there every day. We’d been suckered into a world where perfect was determined by a designer who wouldn’t fit into her own clothing.

  Laura and I wanted women to realize that it was okay to love themselves, even if they didn’t fit into some kind of mold other people expected.

  Stephanie wasn’t really overweight, but I’d discovered that most women who had a tendency to beat themselves up over their body type were often times just an average-size female. In a world that demanded perfection, it was so damn easy to find fault when there was none.

  I nodded. “Good. That’s why Laura and I blog.”

  We both wrote posts on the Perfect Harmony blog, and tried to get women to just accept who they were instead of comparing themselves to others.

  “You’re awesome,” Stephanie stated emphatically.

  I smiled at her. I’d gotten rid of my inability to deal with compliments years ago, or at least my brand had.

  Now that Stephanie had come over to our table, we started to get more women flocking over to chat.

  I was pretty certain her piercing scream had drawn the attention of the other females in the large room.

  Not that I minded, especially at a public event. Laura and I couldn’t have made millions of dollars without the people who like our work. And that money had given me a freedom that I was pretty damn grateful to have.

  We chatted a lot about our blog, something Laura and I were passionate about, and about some of the events that were coming up in the next few months.

  Laura whipped her phone out, and I followed suit, showing the women gathered around the table some of our pieces of clothing in our store.

  “Oh, my God, I love that!” A chorus of approving voices surrounded us as we flipped through some of our outfits, and plenty of them vowed to hit our store the next day.

  Mission accomplished.

  Laura and I were both good at self-promotion. We’d always had to be.

  I heaved a sigh of relief when, an hour later, the crowd around us had dissipated, and my friend and I could gracefully depart.

  I glanced one more time at the gloriously gorgeous Carter Lawson.

  I might be fascinated by him, but he’s dangerous.

  With those cautionary words ringing in my head, I hurried to get ready to leave with Laura. I’d learned to listen to my instincts, and I wasn’t about to abandon them now.

  Carter

  “That went well,” I drawled to my brother, Mason, as the two men we’d been talking to the entire time we’d been at the fundraiser got into their car and drove away.

  I stopped myself from tugging at the neck of my tuxedo shirt because of the Seattle humidity.

  I was used to forcing myself to never look like I was uncomfortable.

  But hell, it was summer, and although I enjoyed the mild winters, sometimes getting into a tux during the annoyingly humid and warm months was a necessity. I just made it a point to stay in air-conditioning.

  But if I thought I was uncomfortable, Mason looked a hell of a lot worse. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, and then loosened his collar.

  “I would have been happier if they’d left an hour ago,” my brother grumbled. “Or we should have stayed inside. It’s hotter than hell out here.” He
hesitated before he asked, “Do you think they’ll sell?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. But trying to get them to trust us is worth sweating our balls off.”

  Mason shot me an irritated look. “I doubt that. It’s not like we need to acquire their company.”

  Maybe not. But Lawson Technologies was into world domination. So buying out a company that was competition and currently floundering was a goal we needed to make happen. “Perhaps it’s not necessary,” I agreed. “But you can’t deny you’d like to absorb them.”

  “Because they’ve been a pain in my ass for years,” Mason answered. “Anything we develop, they do the same.”

  “Not for long,” I predicted. “Their financial situation is a mess. They have no choice but to sell.”

  “We’ll see,” Mason snapped irritably as he headed inside.

  I followed, smirking because my brother’s forehead was beaded with sweat.

  Mason wasn’t accustomed to getting out of the office much. Yeah, he did a lot of traveling, but it was all for business, and mostly to and from our offices around the world. But all that was accomplished in his private luxury jet that definitely had climate control.

  Not that he was out of shape. He had private gyms everywhere, and my older brother was nothing if not disciplined.

  Every single thing he did revolved around our giant tech company. I was pretty sure he ate, breathed, and slept Lawson Tech.

  To be honest, I was starting to think Mason didn’t even get laid. I wasn’t sure when he’d find the time for it.

  As we re-entered the venue, my eyes were automatically drawn to the table where I’d seen a woman I wanted to get into my bed. Strangely, I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed that she and her friend were still there, but the crowd around them that had blocked my view of the stunning female was starting to disappear.

  Mason stopped at the bar to get a drink, and I ordered one of my own.

  I was surprised that my older brother’s gaze was focused on the same place as mine was as I absently took my tumbler from the bartender.

  “You interested?” I asked, my voice harsher than it should have been.

  So what if he is? It’s not like I get possessive over a female. Mason probably needs the distraction more than I do.