The Big, Bad Billionaire

by Ashenden, Jackie

  Ella sighed. Her grandmother was right. She didn’t like to have emotional breakdowns in front of her, because Aurora wasn’t well and Ella didn’t want to worry her. But it was hard sometimes, not being able to talk to anyone—and despite the fact that she didn’t want to, she probably did need to talk about this.

  Gently, she disengaged herself from Aurora’s arms and sat up, pushing the strands of hair that had come loose from her bun out of her eyes. “He’d hired out the entire restaurant so we could eat in private, which was fine, but then he started talking about how things were going to be different now he was my guardian. That he was going to be more involved and that if I wanted anything, I was going to have to make a case for it.”

  Aurora narrowed her gaze, but didn’t say anything.

  “It felt like he was treating me like a child,” Ella went on, fiddling with the corner of the sheet. “So I got angry. I . . . didn’t like being in the room alone with him, and the table was right near the window, and it was really high . . . I was anxious so I probably overreacted. Anyway, I went to storm out, but he followed me and . . .” She stopped, not wanting to tell Aurora the rest of it.

  “And he what?”

  Ella looked down at her hands. “He . . . touched me.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “You didn’t like it?” Aurora asked after a moment.

  Ella swallowed, not wanting to say it out loud, because she could barely even admit it to herself.

  “Ah,” her grandmother murmured as if she’d lifted the answer directly from Ella’s mind. “So that’s how it is.”

  A breath escaped her. Should she tell Aurora about the kiss? Ugh, no, definitely not. “I don’t know what happened, Gran. I don’t like him. At all. And yet, I just . . .”

  A couple of gnarled, wrinkled hands came to rest over hers where they sat in her lap. “Sometimes chemistry happens when we least want it to and with whom we least want it to. You can be attracted to someone and not like them.”

  Her grandmother’s hands were warm, so Ella let her own stay where they were. “I don’t understand myself. I was angry with him and yet, when he touched me, it all went away.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe there’s a reason he makes you so angry?” Aurora asked. “That there’s a reason he makes you feel so uncomfortable?”

  It was the same question Rafael himself had asked. “Yes, of course there’s a reason. He’s a fake. He pretends to be something he’s not and . . .” She stopped, hearing how hollow all of those reasons were.

  “It’s not because of those things.” Aurora patted her hand. “I think you know why you don’t like him. It’s because you feel things for him, things you don’t want to feel.”

  Ella looked down at the old hands over hers, gnarled by the arthritis that caused her gran so much pain and yet still with a surprising strength to them.

  She’s right and you know it.

  Of course she was right. It was that pull, that fascination. That . . . attraction. She’d told herself it was fear that had made her watch him during all those family occasions, tracking his movements so she didn’t have to get near him. But it wasn’t fear that made her heart rate go through the roof and her skin prickle all over. Made her tongue-tied whenever he spoke to her.

  It wasn’t fear and she knew it.

  “I don’t want to feel anything for him,” she said, because she didn’t. Managing her life right now was hard enough, let alone having to do deal with him as well. “I want everything to go back to the way it was. Where I could get my money without having to justify it and go to Paris and . . .” She trailed off yet again. “God, I sound like a baby, don’t I?”

  “Only a little.” Aurora patted her again. “You haven’t felt this for a man before, have you?”

  Ella’s cheeks heated. “No.”

  Her grandmother gave a solemn nod. “Well, I can’t lie, sweetheart. It’s scary stuff the first time around. And I’m not surprised you’re finding it difficult. It’s not the easiest situation to be in, him being your guardian and all.”

  “What should I do? I mean, he’s going to ask me out again, I know it.”

  Aurora pursed her lips, her dark eyes sharp. “Do you want to go out with him again?”

  “He’ll force me to. I mean if I refuse, he’ll make me—”

  “That’s not what I asked,” her grandmother interrupted. “Do you want to go out with him?”

  And Ella found she had to look away because the answer that sprang immediately into her head was yes.

  “Don’t give him all the power, Ella,” Aurora murmured. “Don’t forget that you have something he wants. You can make your own bargains, hmmm?”

  That was true, she could. Like she had with the kiss, just before she’d walked out. The memory of his fingers brushing against the front of her sweater, against the denim of her jeans, moved through her, and she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks all over again.

  “Gran?” she asked, as another thought occurred to her. “Rafael told me I used to follow him around when I was very little. Is that true?”

  “Did you?” Aurora frowned. “Maybe you did. Yes, actually, now that I remember, you did take quite a shine to him. It worried your father no end.”

  That caught at her. “Oh? Why?”

  An expression she couldn’t interpret flickered over Aurora’s face. “I didn’t have as much to do with the de Santis family as your parents did, but I seem to recall Rafael being a very sweet boy. But he was . . . volatile. Moody. His younger brother was the same, except with Rafael it was worse. He used to fly into terrible rages and become completely unmanageable.”

  Ella nodded slowly. That gelled with what her parents had told her about him, and the birthday party that had ended with them taking her away, afraid for her safety. “But, he never hurt me, did he? I mean, I don’t remember, but . . .”

  “Oh no, he never did.” Aurora took her hands away from Ella’s and leaned back against the pillows. “From what I saw, he was nothing but careful with you. But your parents were worried about you being around him nevertheless.”

  Careful with her. He’d been careful with her. A strange feeling twisted inside her, but she didn’t want to examine it right now. “He was sent away, wasn’t he? Dad told me that there was a birthday party and he got angry and made me cry. And they made sure I was never around him after that.”

  Aurora sniffed. “Yes, your father told me about it. Rafael lost it about something and tore up a room. Your mother heard you scream and found you sitting on your butt crying hysterically while Rafael was in a rage about something, punching a hole in the wall. She thought he’d hurt you actually.”

  Ella stared at her grandmother. “He hadn’t though, had he?” She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. He hadn’t hurt her.

  “No.” Aurora snorted. “Your parents were always so ridiculous over your safety. He was just having a tantrum and you were crying because you were only two.” She frowned. “He was sent away after that. To his grandfather’s in Wyoming, I believe.”

  Ella let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I don’t remember any of that. I don’t remember following him around and I don’t remember crying at a birthday party. But I wish I did. He’s . . . fixated on me for some reason, Gran. And I don’t know why.”

  Aurora gave her a look. “Ask him then.”

  “I did. But he didn’t really answer the question.”

  Her grandmother smiled and there was an edge of wickedness in it that made her, for a brief second, look again like the beautiful socialite who had once taken New York by storm. “So make him.”

  “How?”

  The wicked edge faded into tenderness. Lifting a hand, she gave Ella’s cheek a fond pat. “I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself.”

  Chapter 5

  “I think that wraps up this meeting, ladies and gentlemen,” Rafe said, glancing down at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an urgent ap
pointment to get to.”

  The curtain would go up in twenty minutes and it was going to take a miracle for him to get there in time. Shit. He should have ended this fucking meeting a hell of a lot sooner.

  The members of the board began gathering up papers, the low hum of conversation filling the boardroom. Already people were hovering around nearby, waiting to talk to him. Sadly they were going to be shit out of luck.

  Rafe glanced at his older brother, Lorenzo, his CFO now that their father had stepped down. “Handle those, would you?” Rafe glanced pointedly at the line of people. “I have somewhere I have to be.”

  Lorenzo’s gray eyes were cool. “Try not to let power go to your head too much, Rafael,” he commented dryly. “I’m not your personal slave.”

  Rafe plastered on his usual charming smile, trying to curb his impatience. Normally he had no problems with it, but today was the opening night for Ella’s ballet company’s fairy tale production, and he did not want to be late. His secretary had managed to find out about the program, and Ella’s Little Red Riding Hood segment was scheduled right after the intermission, which meant if he wanted to get there in time, he had to leave now.

  “Of course not,” he said. “I forgot the magic word, didn’t I? How would ‘please’ work?”

  Lorenzo’s gaze narrowed, searching Rafe’s face—though what he was trying to find Rafe had no idea. After a moment he said, “Fine. I’ll deal with them.”

  “Thank you.” Rafe inclined his head, trying not to be too exaggerated and sarcastic about it, then pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

  The gathering of people around him pressed forward.

  “My brother will take questions,” Rafe said, widening his smile. “If you’ll forgive me, I have urgent ballet reservations.”

  Everyone instantly made way for him, since most board members were culture fanatics, and nothing was worse than being late for the ballet.

  Ignoring the familiar and unwelcome restlessness that coiled and shifted inside him, Rafael strode out of the boardroom and headed straight for the elevators.

  He’d thought a lot about where and when he’d contact Ella again, finally deciding that the opening night of her production was the perfect time for his next move. It gave her a week to think about him. To think about that kiss and her own reaction to it. A week to get all worked up and really, really pissed about it.

  At least, he hoped she’d be pissed. He wanted her angry, wanted color in her pale cheeks and silver sparks in her gray eyes. Not hesitant or scared or distant. No, angry was far preferable to scared.

  As for himself, he’d spent the week dealing with the fallout of his father’s forced retirement, which involved lots of meetings with the board and the various other management groups that controlled DS Corp. Everyone was more than happy with his assuming the role of CEO, which he’d never had any doubts about since he’d spent years making sure he was everyone’s favorite de Santis.

  It was very, very satisfying to finally take over his father’s massive office in the iconic DS Corp Tower in Downtown Manhattan. Just as it was very, very satisfying to hear from most DS Corp management teams how excited they were to work with him and how the company had been long overdue for a leadership change.

  Rafe had thought Lorenzo might have had something to say about his younger brother’s promotion to CEO. But it turned out that Lorenzo had no interest in running the company. He was far too busy playing happy families with his new wife, Kira.

  Yes, very satisfying indeed to have taken his father down then taken control of the company. Now all he needed to make everything absolutely fucking perfect was Ella.

  The elevator doors opened and he headed through DS Tower’s huge, vaulted glass foyer to the exit. Outside, the streets were icy and there was snow in the air, but Clive had the limo at the curb already, waiting for him.

  “I need to be at the theater in ten,” Rafe said as he got in. “Can you do it?”

  “Of course, sir,” Clive said briskly, as he pulled away into traffic as soon as Rafe had got himself settled.

  As the car moved through the icy streets, Rafe found himself drumming his fingers on his knees, a habit he’d thought he’d broken himself of years ago. With an effort, he tried to straighten his fingers and lay them flat, but the moment he did so, the antsy, restless feeling got worse.

  Jesus, what the hell was the matter with him? He was impatient, yes, and it was true that he’d never missed one of Ella’s performances, but he’d gone years without any of those reflexive, involuntary movements, so why he’d apparently lost control now was anyone’s guess.

  Annoyed with himself, he took the skin between his thumb and forefinger, pinching hard, using the pain to focus himself. It was a pity he didn’t have his pocketknife with him, but he preferred to use it where there were bathroom facilities nearby since he didn’t like getting blood on his clothing. When it dried, it made the fabric harden, which made it unpleasant to wear, as he had good reason to know.

  The pain of the pinch was slight, but it was enough that the antsy feeling ebbed away and he was able to let his fingers rest quietly on his thigh. It would be much better soon anyway, the moment Ella came out onto the stage in fact.

  Clive was as good as his word, proving every cent of the extortionate amount Rafe paid him as he expertly navigated the heavy traffic, pulling up outside the theater a whole five minutes before the intermission was due to end.

  “You’ve just earned yourself a raise,” Rafe told him as he got out, grinning at his driver’s surprised look.

  Inside the theater, people were still milling around and chatting, several of them glancing in his direction as he entered, then doing a double take as they no doubt recognized him. Rafe ignored them, heading toward the balcony. The usher—who’d been notified to expect him—greeted him, showing him to his usual seat, which was at the back on the balcony. He usually bought up the entire row and the one in front so he could sit there by himself and not be disturbed. Of course, the better seats were the ones in front, but he preferred to watch unseen.

  People began to file in and then the house lights dimmed and the music began.

  He sat completely motionless, the familiar anticipation rising inside him as the spotlight came on. And then there she was in a white tutu with red silk ballet shoes, the red velvet cloak thrown over her, a wicker basket held in one hand. Her face was upturned and the expression on it was one of complete joy—Little Red Riding Hood out for a walk enjoying the beauty of the woods.

  The restless, edgy thing inside him went still. Everything inside him went still. The pain was a distant memory, the need to move utterly gone. The entirety of his attention was focused on her, every movement she made, every expression on her face. Beauty and grace. Strength and control. Perfection.

  He leaned forward, putting his arms on the seat in front of him, watching her. If only he’d had these memories in his head when things had gotten bad at his grandfather’s. When he’d been locked in the root cellar, in the darkness, with nothing but silence to keep him company. No one to talk to. No one to hear him as he cried. He wasn’t allowed out until he’d been quiet for a whole hour, though he had no way of measuring the time.

  It had been hell, but he knew why his grandfather had done that to him. It was so he could learn how to bear darkness and silence and isolation. So he could learn how to wait.

  Greatness isn’t achieved without pain, his grandfather would tell him. Do you want to be great or do you want to stay the violent little boy that nobody wanted? Do you want to stay broken?

  A stupid question. Of course he wanted to be great, who wouldn’t? And of course he wanted not to be broken.

  Yeah, the root cellar had been bad, but once he’d figured out that screaming himself hoarse wouldn’t get him out, he’d had to find another way to bear it. And he’d done that by going over childhood memories, of times when he’d been happy. There hadn’t been many since neither his mother or his father had been terrib
ly interested in him, both of them not wanting to deal with a difficult child who had no control over his own emotions. But there were a few. Like when the Harts had visited and they’d let him take Ella outside and give her a ride on his shoulders around the garden. How she’d shrieked with delight, her little hands holding onto his hair. She was the only person who’d never been afraid of him. Even the other boys at his exclusive prep school were terrified of him and his wild outbursts, but not her. He never knew why.

  Maybe that was another thing he should ask her. Then again, she didn’t remember anything of that time, did she?

  On the stage, Ella leapt as if she had wings, soaring high into the air seemingly weightless. Behind one of the trees on the set, there was a movement, the wolf finally getting ready to appear.

  Anticipation tightened in Rafe’s gut. Now things were going to get interesting.

  It was a superb piece. He lost track of time, lost himself in the magic of it. Ella and her wolf. The choreography was original, taking the angle of a love story. Red Riding Hood is first pursued by the wolf, but as the intimacy deepened between them, she became the pursuer, chasing the suddenly frightened wolf.

  He couldn’t look away as she eventually ran the wolf down, the expression of tenderness on her bright face almost more than he could bear. There was no happy ending in this ballet though, the wolf getting killed by the huntsman before Red Riding Hood could reach him.

  The tenderness and hope on Ella’s face became sorrow, and it made Rafe’s heart get tight in his chest, made him want to get up from his seats and charge up to the stage, enfold her in his arms, and take her away. Make sure she’d never feel that emotion ever again.

  Ah, Christ, if she ever found out how much power she had over him . . . not that she ever would. He’d never give that kind of weapon to anyone. Ever.

  The ballet finished to thunderous applause, but Rafe didn’t stay to watch the other fairy tales. He went outside to answer the plethora of phone messages that had appeared on his phone while he’d been watching Ella, then to check his emails. The work of a billionaire CEO of a giant defense company was never done.