The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1)

by Jessica Lemmon

  He frowned, looked through the window at the peeved blonde, and then said, “No. This is our advisor.”

  Wow. Their advisor was beautiful.

  He pulled the door open and announced, “Penelope Brand, I’d like you to meet Merina Van Heusen, my—”

  “What were you thinking?” Penelope bolted out of her seat. Taking in her posture, Merina considered that Reese was lying. Because this woman was not happy. Then Penelope turned her scowl on Merina. “You went on your first date in public and not only did you not kiss each other good night, you barely touched each other!”

  Reese sighed and Merina blinked over at him, shocked he wasn’t having the blonde escorted out by her golden tan.

  “I’m sure we can work this out,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Merina, have a seat.” He nodded at a chair and Merina took the back of it.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Penelope exploded. “You just directed your fiancée into her seat with a chin nod.” She shook her head, looking disappointed and exasperated. “We can’t announce the engagement on the heels of this disaster. I’m going to have to put some spin on your impromptu outing last night to fix this.”

  Reese and Merina sat.

  Penelope, not through yet, lifted her cell phone and read aloud, “‘Reese Crane hit the town with his mystery date, but what started hot quickly moved to tepid as the two stared at their phones over sexy entrées.’” She paused to send them each a scolding glare, then continued. “‘He and the woman in the red dress shared feisty looks and tantalizing smiles before the evening took on a different tone: one of business as they pecked at their iThings. The scene was set with champagne and caviar, but the aphrodisiacs at Chicago’s famed Armande restaurant had no effect on these two office drones. Is Crane’s tame date made to distract from the sizable issue of his hashtag? Or is this the one woman in existence who didn’t fall at King Crane’s feet?’”

  Merina’s jaw dropped.

  “What paper is that?” Reese asked in a tone that suggested he’d file a lawsuit against them just for fun.

  “It’s the Chicago Insider—a blog. And it’s already been shared across social media about two hundred times.” Penelope frowned and her forehead didn’t so much as pucker. Her skin was porcelain-smooth, her white suit pristine, and her jewelry winking gold. “The point is, they already smell a rat, and people are paying attention. You two are going to have to up your game.”

  “We coordinated our calendars. We’re on the same page,” Merina said, refusing to take the younger woman’s abuse silently. “A few more dates and I’m sure the public will see us as a couple. This is just new. They’re speculating,”

  Penelope’s fierce expression softened. She came to sit next to Merina, facing her, her smile in place and blue eyes bright. “Merina. You’re a vibrant, beautiful woman. You’re in love with a gorgeous, hunky billionaire. You were at a restaurant that served everything but sex on those plates. The reporter who happened to be there expected to see Reese and a mystery woman all but fornicate on top of the table.”

  Merina flinched.

  “You two walked in sort of cozy according to this reporter”—Penelope gestured to her phone and then dropped it onto the table—“but you left single file. Reese, you didn’t so much as palm her lower back.”

  “He did so,” Merina snapped. “On the way to our table, he placed his palm on my back.” She remembered because she’d been aware of that imprint the entire dinner. She cast a glance at Reese, who raised an eyebrow in interest.

  “Regardless. Whatever you did wasn’t enough to leave an impression on Rose Wells of the Chicago Insider. You two have to do better. The only opinion that matters is the public one.”

  “So we pander,” Reese said through his teeth. Merina was in agreement with him for once. It was ridiculous.

  “You hired me to help you convince the world your cold heart has been thawed by a smoking hot romance.”

  Even though Merina had accused him of something similar last night—being cold and unfeeling—she found herself rising to his defense. There’d been a definite moment of warmth when he talked about his mom. And when he’d confessed his middle name was Harrington. Later she’d even dug out of him that Harrington was a family name. A great-uncle on his mother’s side.

  “Last night showed how unprepared you two are.” Penelope leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Kiss her.”

  “What?” His was a voice of alarm and Merina echoed the sentimentality.

  “I want to see if you can pull it off.” Penelope shrugged.

  “I’m not a performing monkey, Pen.”

  “We can pull it off,” Merina chimed in. Reese looked moderately relieved that he wasn’t alone in this battle. First kisses—even ones for show—were not to be trotted out in a boardroom for an audience of one. Merina didn’t want a grade, for Pete’s sake.

  Penelope sat straight. “Good. In that case, let’s review your revised schedule of events, because you two are going to need to sell it. And after the next date, if this happens again”—she waggled her phone—“we will have to reconvene and you will be practicing your PDA for me. Because right now it’s PDB.”

  She stood and pulled a computer from her bag. Merina and Reese exchanged glances.

  “PDB?” Merina asked.

  Penelope tapped a few keys into her keyboard and didn’t look up. “Public displays of boredom.”

  * * *

  “She’s intense,” Merina said once Penelope swept out of the boardroom, her heels clicked out of the corridor as Reese watched at the window.

  “She’s the best. And she’s trustworthy. She isn’t going to run to the papers and sell this story for the highest price.” A hint of a smile tickled his mouth. “She hates reporters.”

  Sounded like a story. It also sounded like relief. Pen was on their side, and apparently they did need someone to help them navigate the choppy waters of the media.

  “She’s also right,” Merina said.

  “Yeah,” Reese agreed.

  “Maybe we should practice.” She fiddled with her phone, unable to look at him. “So that we’re comfortable around each other.” Penelope had insisted more than once that they needed to touch and touch often. Hold hands. Stare longingly into each other’s eyes. Her words echoed in Merina’s head now. You two should look like you can’t stand that you’re not alone. Like you could tear each other’s clothes off at any moment.

  There was simply no way to do that as long as Reese felt like a stranger.

  “I don’t have as much experience wooing strangers as you do.” She winced at her admission. “I don’t mean to say I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s okay, Merina, I know what you mean.” He didn’t look worried. Then again, did he ever? His face was stone, his hands in his pockets. “What do you suggest?”

  His voice came out like a seductive murmur and she could have sworn his eyes dashed to her lips. But she couldn’t kiss him here, in his white-and-chrome-and-glass boardroom. On his turf. She needed a few drinks first.

  “How about another date tonight?”

  “Fine. I’ll call Tableau and—”

  “No. Not another fancy dinner.” Somewhere she was comfortable. “Posh.”

  “The martini bar?”

  “Yeah. We can have drinks and practice there.” Off his home turf, and nowhere near hers.

  “Seven.”

  “Seven. And, Reese?” she said as she stood and gathered her purse and phone. “If you pick me up yourself, that may be better.”

  He dipped his head in a nod and she walked past him. Before she exited the room, she was surprised to feel his hand on her upper arm. His warm palm slid down, cupping her elbow, grasping her fingers, and then lifting her hand. He pressed a soft kiss there, full-lipped and firm, then held her eyes as the air between them sizzled.

  Merina’s heart did a flip, her stomach joining in.

  “Just practicing,” he rumbled.


  Chapter 6

  Merina was as nervous getting ready for a date as if she were a teenager. Really, it made no sense. She and Reese were adults, and they both knew what was at stake. There was no reason to fret over the length of her little black dress or worry over the pedicure she’d given herself first thing this morning.

  But she did.

  She bit her lip. Then she heard the door pop open and the exasperated sounds of her parents arguing about something as they jostled in grocery bags.

  Her parents were home?

  Merina jogged down the stairs, eyes wide. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Like I said, if we would have gone to Fields, we could have saved twenty minutes getting back,” her mother told her father as they unloaded the bags on the counter.

  “And like I said, if we would have gone to the Olive Garden, we wouldn’t be arguing about this at all.” He shook a head of lettuce as he spoke.

  “We’re cooking because we both want to be healthy,” her mother said, pulling out fresh tomatoes. “And there’s no ‘the’ in Olive Garden.”

  “Your mother wants to be healthy. I want to eat at a restaurant.” Mark grumbled to Merina while unpacking canned goods from a paper bag.

  “I mean what are you doing home? I thought you were working.” Reese was due here any minute. Her original plan was to tell her parents she was out with him…after she returned home. Evidently this entire scenario had made her morph into a teenager.

  “We’re fully staffed if that’s what you’re asking.” Her mother shut the fridge. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  And there went the doorbell. Right on time. Reese wasn’t so much as thirty seconds late. Merina could have used those thirty seconds to ease her parents into the idea that she was dating the future CEO of the company who’d purchased their hotel and threatened to fire them all.

  “Be nice,” she said, her eyes trained on her father.

  “I’m an angel.” He did look harmless with a bunch of bananas in one hand and an avocado in the other.

  Merina’s parents weren’t old-fashioned, and they weren’t reserved. But they’d sniff out a wolf in sheep’s clothing right away, and Reese was definitely that.

  She opened the door to find him dressed in a dark jacket and gray tie, his scruff light but definitely visible, navy eyes matching his designer jeans. Had she ever seen Reese in jeans before? He wore them as well as a suit, and whatever pair he’d chosen had preserved his air of wealth. Though, she was beginning to wonder if that air was simply him.

  “Hi.” She tracked up from his shiny brown shoes, to a leather belt, to those impossibly long lashes. Then he did something that made her stomach flutter. He grinned.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” He leaned in, accosting her with a hint of spice from his cologne, and kissed her cheek. On the inside, her nerves rattled, warmth oozing down her spine. On the outside, she was aware of her parents looking on in interest.

  She gave Reese a wide-eyed here we go look, then turned to her parents. “Mom, Dad, you know Reese Crane.”

  Her father’s mouth compressed. Her mother folded her arms, a worry line bisecting her brow.

  “Mr. Crane,” she said. “What a surprise.”

  “We’ll be back,” Merina said, not stepping into the kitchen. The sooner they left the better.

  “Maybe,” Reese lashed a possessive arm around her waist. She was pressed flush with a wall of muscle. “Drinks may turn into dinner,” he said, his voice low. “And dessert.”

  Merina swallowed thickly. What was he doing?

  “He’s kidding,” she blurted.

  He released her, came deeper into the house until he arrived at the counter. Extending a hand to Merina’s father, he said, “Mr. and Mrs. Van Heusen, good to see you. I assume Merina told you the remodel and staffing plans have been put on indefinite hold.”

  “Hold?” her father asked, taking Reese’s hand in a cordial but quick shake. “She didn’t tell us.”

  “Right now we’re focused on another building.”

  “Indefinite?” Jolie parroted. “That’s…interesting news.”

  “Wonderful,” Merina corrected. “It’s wonderful news.”

  “Merina came to my office and made a compelling argument about the Van Heusen.” He shot a gaze over his shoulder at her and even though her parents couldn’t see his expression, it was a smoldering one. Then he turned back to them. “I stood very corrected. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  “That she is.” Her father puffed with pride even though he still looked wary of Reese’s intentions. Which meant she had some work to do, because her parents had to believe this was real. She hadn’t done much to convince them and she wasn’t sure the show Reese had put on had convinced anyone.

  * * *

  “I didn’t know Posh took reservations.”

  “For the upper deck,” Reese answered. What did Merina expect, to show up at Posh and smash in with the crowd?

  He took his eyes from the road to check on his date. Merina’s shoulders were draped in a sheer black wrap over a sleek, short black dress. Her long legs bare and smooth and capped in high heels. He was a leg man and regretted not hiring a driver so he could stare longer. Merina’s legs were fantastic.

  “Nice effort with the parents. Who knew you could be so smooth?”

  “Us sewer rats are able to call up sophistication when we need to.” He turned at a light and edged down the street in heavy traffic.

  “And that bit about dinner and dessert. Risky.” She shifted and he took advantage of a red light to admire the way she recrossed her legs. Her dress inched higher on her thighs.

  “Padding the announcement for you,” he said. “When you tell them about our engagement, they’ll have to believe we were swept up.”

  She hummed. He had no idea what that meant. He’d bet she had noises for everything. When she was being thoughtful or when she was annoyed. When she was turned on. It’d been a while since he bothered to notice such subtleties with the women he was with. Brief as he was with them, there hadn’t been a need.

  You’ve been missing out.

  The thought sent the subtlest pang of regret through him. After he’d read Gwyneth wrong—after she’d sold him out for another man—he’d vowed to keep things surface for his heart’s and his pride’s sake. The idea that he’d robbed himself of experiences in the process didn’t settle well.

  Not at all.

  “I meant it was risky because you implied I might not make it home.”

  “Well it could be a long evening.”

  She batted made-up eyes at him and her red lips flinched into a reluctant smile. A surge of attraction shocked his veins. There was something about Merina beyond her physical features that made his libido sit up and beg.

  Typically with his past dates, the surge of attraction came later, after he had her clothes off. With Merina, the anticipation of having her clothes off fueled his want.

  Keeping things surface was easier in the long run—less messy. So why, in Merina’s case, was he looking forward to getting dirty?

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “Nothing.” He whipped his red Ferrari into the valet station. Flashy and just what they needed to snag the attention of the paparazzi. The media thought they could run his and Merina’s romance into the dirt, but Reese had a secret weapon. He could ooze charm when necessary. He’d bet Merina could call up her own battery of flirting if needed. More than charming her, though, he found himself looking forward to surprising her.

  She sat, hands in her lap, while he came around to her side of the car. Penelope had hammered dents into his ego when she berated him for not touching Merina in the right way. He knew how to treat a woman. It was just that usually the woman on his arm was all over him. Merina wasn’t that way. But tonight they were playing things for the cameras. As proven when she didn’t shove her way from the car without waiting for him.

  Reese opened her door and offe
red a hand. Merina took it, sliding her softer palm against his, and awareness flooded his veins. Her willingly coming to him was another plus to the evening.

  “Darling,” he said, laying it on thick.

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, making the red glisten. She climbed from the car and looped her arm with his. Together they walked in, their eyes peeled for anyone who pointed a cell phone in their direction.

  * * *

  Reese walked in like he owned the place. The thought alarmed her. What if he did own the place? Totally possible.

  He swept her through the neon lights and fog to a semiprivate upper deck. From here, they could see and be seen, which was ideal. Penelope had made it clear they’d better shake off their business-only reputation, and fast. Merina had come ready to play hardball.

  She’d asked him here because she felt at home at Posh. The music wasn’t so loud that they couldn’t talk but loud enough that they wouldn’t be overheard.

  A cushy couch overlooking the swarm below perched at the edge of a shelflike overhang, surrounded by a glass wall. Up here, with a personal waiter and view of the DJ who was suspended over the center of the bar, she got a glimpse of what it was like to be Reese Crane.

  Living the good life high above his minions, his every whim being catered to. She tried to curl her lip at the treatment but couldn’t. Being on his arm had its perks. She was going to enjoy them.

  “Downstairs, getting to the bartender is a test of endurance and Midwest manners,” Merina told him as she watched men attempt to draw the bartenders’ attention while women in low-cut tops were served first. “You could learn a thing or two from the people down there.”

  “That’s why I have you.” His voice held no challenge, just commanding presence and smooth delivery. Like he meant it. Maybe he did. She was beginning to think she could learn a thing or two from him as well.

  Their waiter, flamboyantly dressed in short shorts, a cropped hot pink top, and slatted sunglasses, returned with their drink order. He passed down her cosmopolitan and Reese’s scotch. “Anything else, beautiful people?”

  “No, thanks, Kevin.” Merina winked and he shot his finger like a gun.