Watched by a Stranger (BILLIONAIRE BEHAVING BADLY SERIES Book 2)

by Holly Stone

  Pausing outside her door to take a deep breath, I ran through what I would say to her in my mind, and then knocked.

  I waited.

  There was no answer and no noise coming from inside.

  I knocked again, louder. The thumping sound rang out in the deserted corridor.

  I waited.

  Nothing.

  I looked up and down the hallway, considering what I should do next. I didn’t have a phone number for her. I knew my security team could get it for me but not immediately. Maybe by tomorrow but that wouldn’t be soon enough. Rebecca had said she was only in Atlanta for two days so she could have been flying out that night or the next morning. I could get my hands on a lot of information but flight manifests were something else entirely and I had no idea who she’d flown in with. In the end I decided to go with something I’d rejected earlier in the day when I’d been trying to work out how to seduce her again.

  Flowers and an apology.

  I called my personal assistant on the way to the elevator and arranged for a bouquet of white roses to be delivered to her hotel room. Dictating the card to Barbara was an experience I would rather forget, but I knew I had to make it heartfelt to stand a chance of her getting in touch before she returned to England. I didn’t want her to leave without saying goodbye. I had to see her again, just once and then I’d move on as I always did. I wouldn’t fuck her again. I wouldn’t break my own rules but I would kiss her and eat humble pie for my cum-stain of a brother.

  REBECCA

  After I left Andrew’s I managed to hail a taxi and went straight back to the hotel. At the reception desk I explained that I wanted to change rooms and they were happy to allow me to move up a floor. I had a feeling Andrew would want to apologise in person. He wasn’t the type to let someone walk away without trying to get the last word in, control freak that he was.

  I just knew I didn’t want to see him and let him worm his way back into my affections. He had tried to tell me he didn’t know that man was watching – whoever he was – but I didn’t believe him. Andrew had proved himself to have numerous kinks; bondage, a predilection for inflicting minor pain, sensory deprivation. I suspected arranging for someone to watch him fucking was another element of his sexual preferences. Maybe the man wasn’t supposed to reveal himself but Andrew knew he was there. He blindfolded me so I couldn’t see we had an audience.

  The thought of someone watching while Andrew fucked my face…I was mortified. And all the things we’d said to each other, the games. It was too much for me to take in.

  About three hours later there was a knock at the door and I got up off the bed where I’d been relaxing and looked through the spy-hole. There was a busboy outside holding a huge bouquet of flowers.

  I opened the door and asked for the card. Inside the envelope was printed.

  Rebecca. I didn’t know my brother was there. He lives in New York and hadn’t told me he was visiting. I’m so sorry to have put you in such a position. Upsetting you was the last thing I wanted to do. Please call me before you leave. I want to see you if you’ll allow it. Andrew x

  I stood staring at the card, then at the three dozen beautiful roses he had sent me. They smelt amazing, almost exactly like my grandmother’s garden. The whole thing made me want to cry again.

  “Can you do me a favour?” I asked the busboy. “Can you arrange for these flowers to be delivered to the offices of BGP with a note? The cost of the cab can be added to my room expenses.”

  “Sure,” he replied, shifting under the weight of those stupid, beautiful blooms.

  I went back into my room and found the complementary paper and envelopes in the dressing table drawer. I wrote a quick note to Andrew, hoping he wasn’t back in the office until the next day. By that point I would be long gone.

  The busboy took everything and made his way back to the lifts. That night I didn’t sleep well despite drinking most of the newly stocked mini-bar, pretty much everything except the whisky. I was back in worry mode, thinking about past hurts, considering a future where I was too fearful to let anyone close to me. I’d pushed aside my sensible nature for a try at something frivolous for once and look where it had got me. Hurt again. Disappointed again.

  The worst thing was that I was even less hopeful of finding someone trustworthy than I’d been before Andrew. I’d moved backwards.

  On the way to the airport I stopped at a mall to get the trainers for Marnie. The flight back to the UK was sombre. I watched every film available to try and take my mind off what had happened. I knew he would have received my message by that point. I knew that I would never see him again. It was how I wanted it to be, and how Andrew had intended it to be at the start, so why did I feel so empty?

  I took a taxi from the airport, watching the grey of London pass by, missing vibrant Atlanta. The driver pulled over before the entrance to my flat as the road was busy with parked cars, so it wasn’t until I was on foot that I saw what had been left next to my front door.

  Three-dozen white roses, a bottle of whisky and another note.

  Coming soon

  FOLLOWED BY A STRANGER

  BILLIONAIRE BEHAVING BADLY SERIES

  3

  Bonus Excerpt

  ANDREW

  Rebecca had sent me a note. I couldn’t believe it. I was convinced that she’d call me after my gesture, but I guess in another way I’d been right about her all along. She didn’t want flowers or chocolates. The roses I’d sent to her hotel room ended up back on my desk, accompanied by a scrawled brush-off on hotel stationery.

  Andrew

  I’m too tired to play games. I needed something simple but this is getting complicated and bruising me in the process. Can we part saying it was fun (mostly!) and leave it at that? I hope you find someone willing to be what you want. I can’t call you or see you without hurting myself further so I hope you understand why I’m returning your flowers (they would only go to waste if I kept them) and replying to your note with a note of my own.

  Rebecca

  I spent a long time standing at the floor-to-ceiling window in my office, studying her elegant handwriting and the words she’d written, realising that the sadness I’d seen in her eyes on the first night hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. Rebecca had been nursing some wounds and it seemed that our interlude had exacerbated them. I was angry with her for leaving without giving me the chance to properly apologise for what happened with my brother. I still didn’t know whether she fully believed that I’d been unaware he was watching us fuck. But behind my anger was a nagging sense of regret that she was gone. I missed her sense of humour, her elegance and her smile. I’d only known her for such a short time but she’d managed to wiggle her way under the shell I’d constructed since Adrianna. It was uncomfortable to feel out of control. The last time I’d let myself feel anything I’d walked away with a shattered heart and a resulting inability to trust any woman that crossed my path. Some wounds are so deep it’s possible to believe you will never get over them and I’ll admit that I still believed that of mine.

  Only, I seemed to trust Rebecca. I’ve witnessed manipulation at its most calculated and this didn’t look anything like that. She’d run for her own self- preservation and I was confident she wasn’t playing games with me by fleeing merely so that I would give chase. I’d seen the pain in her eyes before she knew who I was, and it was real.

  And I wanted to take it away.

  Admitting that to myself was tough. Acknowledging how I felt meant I would have to do something about it. I wasn’t someone who lived well with regrets in any form. They have a tendency to leach into everything. I should know because my one regret had been shaping my interactions with women for over half a decade.

  But what to do?

  Maybe if I could see her again, and we could talk, it would be enough. If I could apologise and speak to her about what was hurting her then I wouldn’t feel the regret anymore.

  It was a simple plan but looking back I could see it wa
s foolish. I was lying to myself about how much Rebecca had affected me and I was an idiot to think I could shrug off the feelings I’d developed with a quick conversation, but we live and learn.

  I asked my Chief of Security to run a search for Rebecca’s U.K. address and sent her more roses and a bottle of whisky, knowing that they would rile her, but hoping she would also smile. I wanted to leave my mark so she knew as soon as she arrived home that I was still thinking about her and that her leaving without saying a proper goodbye wasn’t the end of it. Then I told Barbara to ready my private jet and call Goodwin, my personal shopper, to deliver a suitcase of everything I would need for a two-day trip, to the airport by lunch time.

  I was going to England.

  To be continued…

  Available on Amazon now!

  About the author

  Hi! I’m Holly Stone. I live, work and write in London. Writing isn’t my day job but I love creating characters enough to do it in my spare time. When I’m not working, writing or parenting I’m reading, day dreaming about my next book and trying to stretch time like elastic!

  I love people and chocolate and stories that grab you by the heart and squeeze. Before I became a mummy I travelled to cool places and studied ancient things and danced in heels and drank gin with orange juice. When my kids are grown I am planning to do all those things again, just wearing longer skirts!

  Contact Information

  I would love to hear from you. Contact me at hollystoneauthor@hotmail.com

  Find me on Facebook, Goodreads, and follow me on twitter(@hollystonebooks)

  Subscribe to receive updates on forthcoming book releases here and I promise only to email you about really interesting things!

  Reviews help authors and readers alike. Please leave one if you have time. It would be much appreciated. If you email me with a link to your review, I will put you on my list to receive a free ARC of my next book. The best 5 reviewers will be chosen by me!

  This short story is independently published and I have tried really hard to spot any errors in production. If you find one, please forgive me! If you have time you can let me know the location and I will aim to remove.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to the amazing people in my life who have shown support and enthusiasm for my little dream. I can’t express how much it has meant to me.

  For my two amazing Beta Readers – C.W and A.Z. Thanks for all your comments!

  And thank you for reading.

  Like steamy romances?

  Amazon reviewers have called the Dance For Me Short Story Series:

  “Erotic Romance with Heart.”

  “A rare blend of spice and a lot of emotion.”

  “Tender and beautiful.”

  “The perfect blend of heat, sweet and happily ever after.”

  “Beautiful - This is such a great story. Not just about sexual fulfilment but about knowing and following your dreams.”

  Available now to buy now or borrow for free on Kindle Unlimited.

  Dance for Me – Story 1

  The note said DANCE FOR ME.

  Annabelle McKenna hasn't danced since her daughter was born, but when Dimitri Novikov - superstar illusionist - challenges her to perform for him in his hotel room, she wants so badly to accept.

  She used to dance for thousands. Can she dance for just one man?

  Dance for Me – Story 2

  “Stop, don’t take it off.”

  Andrea’s a stripper and is used to men telling her to hurry up and take off her clothes. So when her dark haired, sad eyed client tells her to ‘stop’ before she slips off her bra, she thinks she’s done something wrong.

  At the end of her shift he’s waiting outside to explain why, and his reasons change everything.

  Dance for Me – Story 3

  “I don’t dance.”

  Ailee’s sitting on the side-lines at her sister’s wedding until the best man swoops in with talk of cocktails named after sex stuff, 80s music, and dancing. Her ex was hyper-critical and Ailee’s scared she won’t be able to get his voice out of her head, but Mark seems to know exactly what she needs.

  It might be a cliché for the maid of honour and best man to hook up, but that doesn’t stop it from being hot!

  Buy or borrow now in UK here or US here

  Happy reading!