Bait: Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set

by Colleen Charles

  “Why else would you ever ask her to marry you?” my mother questioned, looking at me as if I were addled. As if Charlie were less than. I wanted to slap that superior look right off my mother’s face. “You’re young and successful, Nolan. There’s plenty of time to settle down later. After you’ve made your mark on the world.”

  Charlie dropped my hand and her body went stiff. Her gorgeous eyes fell flat, the fire slowly leaving them. Damn this rude woman. Where in the hell was my dad when I needed him? He needed to control this bitch. But then, she’d been dismissed in my father’s eyes shortly after their wedding.

  “Because I love her. It’s what two people normally do when they’re in love and want to spend the rest of their lives with each other.” I scanned my eyes up and down her petite frame. This woman who had given birth to me but never really wanted me. “But then, you wouldn’t know anything about that. Would you, Mother?”

  She snorted and scrunched her nose up into a grimace. I’d gotten to her. Good.

  “Nolan Abraham Banks, do not attempt to placate me with your false words,” she hissed as she tapped a stiletto clad foot on the ballroom floor. “I know this marriage is a sham. Why don’t you level with me and save yourself the humiliation when I find out the truth?”

  Charlie looked at me. Then my mother. Then back to me with a look of shock on her face. I wrapped my arms around Charlie. Making a choice.

  “This is the woman of my dreams. We are getting married. Final answer.”

  My mother studied our faces for a few moments, then shook her head. “If this is the way you want to play this. Fine. But you’re playing with fire. Prepare to burn.”

  “Thank you for your cliché,” I said through a clenched smile. Not wanting to get into it any deeper with her. Not caring what she thought.

  “Congratulations to the two of you,” my mother said, a forced smile on her lips. “I’ll see to it that you’ll have a proper engagement party at my house within the next few weeks for the sake of appearances. Your father wouldn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize the business in any way. Charlie, I’ll have my assistant call and arrange a suitable date with you.”

  My mother’s words were drenched in icicles. Charlie and I could freeze a menu selection from Cold Stone on her ass. Why wouldn’t she just shut up?

  “We’ll have brunch tomorrow, my darling,” she said in the same tone, not warming even a smidgeon and continuing to coat Charlie in her judgmental glare. “Bring her along so we can all get to know each other better. I can’t wait to learn all about your future wife’s background.”

  “I need more champagne,” Charlie informed me as she released a breath the moment my mother was out of sight. But her eyes. Those passionate eyes that I adored were so tired. I knew she’d be worried about her meager upbringing. Now, I’d deliberately put Charlie in a position to feel inadequate when I wanted nothing more than to make her feel special. What had I done?

  I snapped my fingers at a passing waiter in the hallway and grabbed the bottle of Dom he held in one hand.

  I am such a selfish asshole.

  “No need for glasses,” I told him. He shrugged and continued on his way.

  I popped the cork and took a long swig before handing my fiancée the bottle. I had no idea what to do or what to say. All I knew was I wanted that tragic look off her face before I became a puddle at her feet. “You look a little peaked, which is not uncommon after having a conversation with my mother.”

  Charlie blew out a breath. “Is that what you called that?”

  I laughed and took the bottle back from her. If I could get her back to my place, I could explain. Explain and fuck the negative feelings right out of her gorgeous body. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

  We managed to avoid the reporters and crowd of well-wishers by sneaking out of the terrace door. The crisp, fall evening air felt like heaven on my heated skin, as we waited for my driver to pull around. I held the door open for Charlie as we slipped into blessed obscurity behind the dark tinted windows. Another flash went off in my face just as I slammed the door and slinked down in the buttery leather seats.

  “Shit,” I said with a long exhale. “Didn’t those dipshits see Justin and Beyoncé’ tonight? We are just not that important in comparison.”

  Charlie slid her hand onto my knee and I felt an answering tug in my groin. It amazed me how this woman could turn me on with the barest of touches. The first time in my life I’d ever been this affected by someone. I wanted her. So badly.

  “Nolan,” she whispered as those magic fingers began to slide back and forth, creating a delicious friction. “You always give them something to report. You’re an easy mark.” Then her fingers pinched the inside of my thigh, the sensitive place right above the knee. I yelped and she pinched me again. “Like tonight, for instance. Tossing a fake engagement into my face.”

  I reached down and clasped my hand over hers, lacing our fingers together before she could pull away. Yes, her anger was there, simmering beneath the surface. But something else too. Heat. And electricity. The life in her eyes had started to return as I flipped her palm over and rubbed the sensitive part with the pad of my thumb.

  Thankfully, the limo bar was fully stocked with liquor because I needed some. Or a lot. I hadn’t had enough tonight to even begin to take the edge off. Hell, who was I kidding? The only thing that would take the edge off would be to pull that gold and white dress down and free her perfect tits.

  I poured two fresh glasses of champagne and added a splash of peach nectar juice in each. Handing a Peach Bellini to Charlie, she snuggled back into the seat.

  “Just keep them coming,” she said with a sigh, breaking physical contact. I didn’t like the idea of her trying to escape me. I wanted her close. By my side forever. Maybe someday I’d tell her why.

  I gulped down the delicious elixir and closed my weary eyes. Who knew that getting engaged could be so draining? When I peeked a glance at Charlie, she was staring at me. No, staring wasn’t the word. Glaring. Angry.

  “What the fuck did I just agree to?” she asked, swilling the champagne around before draining the glass.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “It was your idea, Charlie.”

  She nearly choked on her champagne but spat it on me instead. “Have I stumbled into an alternate universe, Nolan Banks? Did you just ‘beam me up, Scotty’ from some planet where terrible ideas percolate? I hate to break it to you, mister, but this is Earth!”

  “Your eloquent words are so charming,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a small squeeze. My fingers ran the length of her collarbone as I leaned over and kissed her neck. “Relax, Charlie,” I pressed a whisper against her ear. Not ready to divulge anything. Yet. “This is just a strategy move. Basic PR 101.”

  I could tell by Charlie’s demeanor that she was questioning our engagement and my strategic moves. Probably questioning me as a man. Stroking her arm soothingly, I was pleased when Charlie rested her head on my shoulder. I wanted nothing more than to gain her trust. I wanted her to know that I would take care of everything. She didn’t have to worry about my mother, or the company, or the real estate deals I was putting together.

  Lowering my voice to a whisper, I said, “Charlie, you know this isn’t Cinderella. My mother won’t lock you in the attic and make you live with talking rodents. You don’t have to scrub floors on your hands and knees and empty bed pans …”

  Charlie gave a snort. “Wait a minute. I’m confused. I don’t get to live in a beautiful castle and magically become a princess? Where’s my pumpkin, Nolan? I want my pumpkin.”

  I chuckled as I ran my hand through her elegant locks of hair. I wish she’d stay on my shoulder forever, dreaming of magic squash.

  “Oh, you can live in a castle,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “But becoming a princess is overrated. All those balls you have to attend, the fairy godmother’s strict rules and midnight curfews. Glass slippers are highly uncomfortable. Jimmy Ch
oo told me that himself.”

  Charlie narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “Let’s be serious, Nolan. How long can we keep up the charade? I have to admit. Your mother completely terrifies me.” She gave a shiver and gooseflesh spread across her bare arms.

  “This isn’t a prison sentence, Charlie,” I said as I smoothed away the bumps with my hot palms. “And you don’t have to worry about my mother.”

  “Christ, Nolan,” she spat as she skidded away from my touch again. I had to stop that from happening. It made me feel empty. “Don’t patronize me. Or play me for a fool. I may be a lot of things that your mother would never approve of but stupid isn’t one of them.”

  “We’ll stay engaged long enough for the real estate deal to close with The Godfather,” I soothed and then raised my eyebrows at the cinematic reference to Raminsky. No need to tell her now that I had zero intention of ever letting her go. Not when she’d never believe me. “I’ll build my office building. You can lead the low-income housing project you’re so passionate about. Piece of cake.”

  “I have a feeling that being engaged to you will be anything but simple,” Charlie muttered into my shoulder. “I fear it might kill me. I can’t get lost in you, Nolan. We can’t have sex anymore.”

  What the fuck was she talking about? I needed to touch her. Hold her. I needed to sink in to her body over and over. If I couldn’t, then I didn’t want to breathe.

  I hooked my finger under her chin and brought up her soft, supple lips for a kiss. I covered her mouth with mine, trying to say with my body what words couldn’t. It was tender and sweet. Full of feeling and promise. I didn’t expect for her to respond. But she did.

  Charlie deepened the kiss, her mouth greedy as I pulled her onto my lap. Her breasts pressed against my chest as her tongue explored. I gripped her hips, feeling myself harden as she wiggled on my lap to stabilize her position.

  When the kiss ended, I pulled away from her. “Isn’t it better when we communicate like this? Don’t tell me we need to be celibate, Charlie. There’s no reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company. Inside and outside of work.”

  Charlie put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back against the seat. Putting up her fake barriers again. Didn’t she understand that with the electric connection we shared, the simplest touch, just a taste would open the floodgates?

  “You seem to be forgetting,” she said as she put up a finger, thinking the single digit would stay me. Keep me from launching myself across the seat to devour her. I’d let her think she had control. For now. “This is a business deal. Nothing more, nothing less. Just business.”

  “That’s not what I want.” A statement. A declaration.

  An admission.

  “I’m serious, Nolan,” she pressed her already rigid back even deeper in to the leather seat. I was sure if she could disappear, she would have. Zapped herself right out of my town car and into her dingy apartment. I’d hung the brass ring right in front of her. Why wasn’t she grabbing it with both hands? “We have to stay on top of things if you want your deal to go through.”

  And you want your low-income project to go through. She didn’t have to speak the words. I knew why she was still here. And it wasn’t because of me.

  “I can think of other things I’d like you to stay on,” I said, my smile widening. If I couldn’t reach her with words, I’d reach her with my body. My sex appeal. That had never let me down.

  I sidled closer to her. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her fevered skin. Smell her. She tried to wiggle free but I held firm.

  “You think we can keep this strictly business?” I reached up to stroke her cheek and she shivered. “If you say so, Charlie.”

  “Let’s just stop talking about this for now,” she said. “I’m getting a killer headache from all that champagne.”

  “If you insist,” I replied, planting my lips on hers again. I couldn’t wait to see how long she held out. Kept up the ridiculous charade of not wanting me. I had to figure out why. It certainly wasn’t because of a lack of passion on her end. No. There had to be something else. Something from her checkered past.

  She slapped me away. “Nolan! I’m serious. No more.” She climbed off my lap.

  Poking out my lower lip, I pouted like a little boy who had his favorite toy taken away. But there was another card. My ace in the hole. And I’d play it right now because my cock felt like it might explode. “You aren’t playing nice. Is that how you treat someone who just put a hundred-thousand-dollar diamond ring on your finger?”

  “Might as well be Monopoly money,” she hissed. “Then we could honeymoon at Park Place. It would fit the theme for our fake engagement.” She sighed deeply and her head fell back against the seat, her eyes fluttering closed. “Therefore, your marriage proposal was invalid. Null and void just like the legal contracts I draw up for Banks Realty.”

  “Don’t use your legal bullshit on me, Charlie.” Sexual frustration caused me to resort to surliness. I shifted in my seat, trying to adjust myself without my hands and ease the horrendous ache. “I know a few hundred people who would disagree with that remark.”

  “Yeah, well, screw them,” Charlie said.

  Seems two could play at the sexual frustration game. Why was she denying herself? Denying me? Nolan Banks was never denied. And I didn’t like it.

  Not. One. Bit.

  “I’d rather screw you,” I said bluntly, running my hands through my hair and doubling over. In pain. The pain of denial. “Although if you’d prefer to wait for our honeymoon, we might want to consider moving up the wedding date. I don’t know how long I can hold out.”

  “Call a trick.”

  Did she fucking just say that to me? I’m Nolan-God-Damn-Banks. As if.

  Charlie used my open mouthed shock to press her case. How lawyerly of her. But I had to admit it. Charlene de Monaco was a worthy adversary. And that was why I respected her. Why I wanted her. And I always get what I want.

  “Now that you’ve mentioned it,” she said, peering at me through hooded lids. “There is the matter of the wedding details. Your mother will expect us to have some kind of arrangements when she throws that lavish engagement party. Have you thought this through?”

  Before I could admit that I fucking had not thought this through, the limo came to a full stop in front of Charlie’s apartment. Instead of speaking, I leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. I moved to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away and opened her door.

  As she scooted out, I said, “We can talk about this tomorrow over brunch. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  Charlie checked her watch. “Five minutes until midnight. I’ll need to hurry inside before your limo turns into an orange vegetable.” She blew me a kiss as she leapt out. “See you in the morning, Prince Charming.”

  “Fruit.”

  “Huh?”

  She stopped cold and glanced over her shoulder. The sight of her rounded ass and her gorgeous hair falling out of its messy bun to fall in wisps around her bare shoulders could have been my undoing. I wanted to reach my hand out and snatch her back in the car. I slapped it down on my knee and gripped my leg to keep it still.

  “Pumpkin, miss smarty pants,” I said as I raised my eyebrows, “is technically a fruit. Didn’t they teach you that in the Ivy League?”

  Charlie didn’t respond. She ran to the door of her building as fast as her stiletto clad feet could carry her. Fleeing.

  Chapter Two

  I awoke with a bad all-boy band going full swing in my temples, singing a well-known diddy I liked to call “What the fuck was I thinking for drinking so much champagne last night?” I could piss out a bottle of Dom and repackage it for sale. It was a chart topper back in the late nineties when I went to college. Every so often, it tried to make a comeback. Like this morning. Only strong coffee and a Xanax would make it all go away.

  “Fuck me,” I groaned and rolled over to check the time on my watch. The blurry numerals informed me that it
was nine o’clock. My heart stopped for a second. What day was it? I never slept in this late. There was something I had to do today. Work? I was caught in a moment of panic before I realized it was the weekend. I could go back to sleep.

  My head eased gently back on the pillow and I tried to think of a way I could summon a cup of coffee without getting out of bed. Remembering there was a bottle of aspirin in my night stand, I reached over to get the medicine. Thunderbolts of lightning ripped through my head. That had definitely been too much champagne last night. God, I hated that shit. Whiskey. Strait. Maybe a little hair of the dog that bit me?

  I wondered if it was possible to actually die of a champagne hangover. Clasping the bottle of aspirin, I shook out a few of the small white tablets. With no coffee or water, I dry swallowed them, trying to quell that endless drumming sound that just keep playing in my head.

  Wham, bam, wham, bam.

  Over and over.

  Wait a minute.

  That sound wasn’t The Backstreet Boys playing an encore in my sore head. It was coming from my front door.

  Bang!

  Whoever thought it was a bright idea to stop by my apartment this early on a Sunday morning without calling first would be told to get the fuck lost.

  “Give me a damn minute!” I yelled, immediately regretting it. My own voice crashing through my head almost brought me to my knees. Cursing, I stood up and made my way to the pounding at the door.

  “This better be an emergency,” I muttered as I shuffled to the door. “Somebody better be dead or dying. With their goddamn hair on fire.”

  I pressed the intercom button, “Who the hell is it?”

  “It’s Chase! Open the damn door, Nolan.” I heard my best friend’s voice shrill through the intercom. I winced at his incessantly loud tone. “Come on, bud. Open the door. Right now.”

  “Heard of calling?” I asked in a whisper. I couldn’t bring myself to raise my voice any higher.

  “Check your cell, dipshit,” he yelled again and I thought I might puke all over the intercom.