Taken by the Pirate Billionaire

by Shelli Stevens

  “Oh God,” she screamed as he started to thrust into her again. “I love you.”

  Her words registered and sent him over the edge. He came hard inside her, having intended originally to pull out.

  Devon sank down to the floor of the shower, taking her with him. He closed his eyes. No protection. Fuck. She loved him? Not likely. She would hate him if he’d gotten her pregnant.

  Renee climbed off of him, painfully quiet now.

  Devon stepped out of the shower and handed her a towel, then grabbed one for himself. He did a quick job of drying off, before he slipped back into his jeans.

  “I’ll get breakfast started,” Devon said and left her alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Renee held the towel against her and stared into the mirror.

  Had she just declared loving him? Though that wasn’t even the scary part—love declarations sometimes came out during sex. She knew that. The scary part was she might actually mean it.

  How could that even be possible? After only three days? Did anyone fall in love in three days?

  “It’s good sex,” she told herself in the mirror. “That’s all. Good sex makes you believe its love. And I will not confuse the two.”

  After her self-administered pep talk, she got dressed and went downstairs. In the kitchen, Devon was frying bacon and flipping pancakes in a pan on the stove.

  “We should probably talk,” he said, without looking up.

  Okay, so he was going to freak out on that little declaration. Renee winced. “If this is about that I love you comment—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “It’s not. Why don’t you have a seat?”

  It wasn’t about that? And it was a little weird he was so quick to brush it off. Did he get love declarations all the time? That thought made her a little pissy.

  Renee pulled out a bar stool and sat down. “All right, what’s going on?”

  “I thought I should give you fair warning.” He set a piece of paper down in front of her.

  No preliminaries, just bam. Renee stared at what looked to be a screen shot of a website and felt the blood drain from her face.

  “How...?” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the picture at the top of the story.

  The picture was of Devon kissing the back of her neck at his party the other night. She scanned the story.

  Social Network mogul Devon Murray finally captured on camera, along with his latest lover. But who is she?

  Renee stopped reading. They’d figure it out soon enough. Her stomach dropped and she felt bile rising in her throat.

  “Do you remember the redhead from the party?”

  “That woman who tried to molest me? What about her? Did she take this picture?”

  “I believe so. I guess, when I sensed a reporter in the house that night, I was looking at the wrong woman.” He dished up a plate of pancakes and bacon and then set it down on the table in front of her. “Shauna sold me out for a few bucks.”

  “I thought your parties were discreet.” The panic was setting in. She could hear the urgency in her own voice. “Anyone who sees this—”

  “The photo doesn’t show your face.”

  But it showed his—which was extremely rare. And with a little research, anyone could figure it out. She knew they were both thinking it.

  “My parties have always been discreet.” He slammed the pan in the sink and clenched his fists. “I’ve never allowed reporters in. Shauna is the new wife of an old acquaintance, and I should have had a background check done on her. It’s my own fault this happened.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  She’d had no business being at a secret sex party anyways. Her whole motive for going had turned out to be pointless; searching for a brooch that had probably been sold centuries ago.

  Get a grip, Renee, maybe it’s not as bad as you think.

  “This is small gossip site. Surely not that many people go to it.”

  “It’s the only site, it’s also been picked up by several media and gossip sites.”

  Crap. Renee pushed the pancakes around on her plate for a minute, unable to even think about eating now.

  “This can’t be good for my reputation. No one will want to use my business knowing I’ve gone to one of your parties. That I’m—”

  “No.” Devon turned to face her, his expression fierce. “This will not affect you. I give you my word.”

  Renee gave a weak smile. “I’m overreacting, I’m sure. Just ignore me. I’ve never been a public figure, never been in the spotlight, and it’s just a pretty big shock.”

  He came over and sat on the stool next to her, touching her cheek. “I’ll take care of this, I promise.”

  She wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe this would all blow over and no one would figure out it was her. Who she was... God, she felt sick.

  All this for nothing. And now her grandparents’ house was likely to be foreclosed on. Maybe she could sell the painting, maybe that would help. Just as quickly as the idea went through her head, she dismissed it. She couldn’t. Parting with the portrait wasn’t going to be an option.

  “Will you take me home now?” The request was out before she could stop it.

  Devon’s mouth tightened, but he nodded. “Of course, if that’s what you wish.”

  “I think so, yes. I’m sorry. I just can’t eat anything right now. I need time to absorb...everything.”

  Devon nodded. They stood and headed to the front door.

  “Just a moment. Your painting.” He turned suddenly and went upstairs to retrieve it.

  She watched him go, her heart heavy. Did she regret it? Knowing the potential shit storm coming her way, it was hard to say no without hesitation.

  This morning when she’d arrived things had been kind of perfect. But they’d quickly slipped into massively complicated. Then again, what had she expected? That she could just casually, unobtrusively date—or sleep with—one of the most controversial billionaires out there?

  Devon came back down the stairs, the painting in his hand. He was so damn attractive, even in his broody state. Then again, he was often in that state. This morning it was just amped up a little.

  “Here you are.” He lifted the painting towards her and she reached to take it, but her fingers didn’t get a good enough grasp.

  Devon tried to grab it again, but was too late. The picture slipped from both their hands and crashed to the ground. The frame cracked and the canvas pulled free from its backing.

  “Oh my God.” Renee lifted her hand to her mouth in horror at what she’d just done. “I’m so sorry. I lost my grip. Oh my God.”

  How could she be so damn clumsy? Her eyes filled with tears.

  Devon leaned over and scooped up the painting, then carried it to the table in the foyer.

  What was he doing? She watched in dismay as he pried the frame away from the canvas.

  “Devon, stop! You’ll ruin it further. Maybe we can get it fixed somewhere.”

  “Hold on a second... Well, I’ll be damned,” Devon said and a moment later lifted a small round object from inside the frame.

  Renee blinked and the air locked in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She had to be seeing things. It couldn’t be... She grew dizzy as he turned the object a bit and the light twinkled off the rubies.

  He looked at Renee and then set the antique brooch in the palm of her hand, closing her fingers around it. “This, I believe, belongs to you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Her heart thudded and she drew in a small breath. She looked from his sincere eyes and then admired the complexity of the brooch.

  It was heavier than it looked and even though it was in her hand, she struggled to believe that this was happening.

  “Look, there’s a letter, too.”

  She lifted her head just as Devon pulled a yellowed piece of paper out of the frame. While he read through the old, creased page she waited in silence, glancing down at the brooch in her hand every now and
then.

  It was real. They’d found the brooch. Any minute now she’d wake up and it would have all been a dream.

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “What does it say?” She took a slow step towards him to glance over his shoulder.

  “Darren wrote the letter. It says he was in love with Anne and that he had every intention of marrying her.” Devon paused. “When he came to get her on the day they were to elope, Anne’s father answered the door. He’d learned of their plans and intervened. He gave the brooch to Darren and told him never to return. His daughter, Anne, would never be allowed to marry a pirate.”

  “What?” Renee’s glanced at the brooch in her hand. “But Darren ignored him, right?”

  Devon shook his head, his mouth slashing. “Anne’s father said that if Darren ever came back, Anne would be sent to a convent. It appears Darren loved Anne so much that he’d rather she found happiness elsewhere than be sent to a convent. He stayed away.”

  “No.” Renee’s eyes misted over.

  “For a while at least.” Devon set the letter on the table and looked over at her. “But he loved her—more than anything or anyone. He was willing to give up all the pirating and settle down, so he did go back for her.”

  “And she was already married.” Renee finished as she wiped away a tear that was trailing down her cheek.

  Devon nodded his head. “She was already married.”

  Darren had never been the villain; it was her own family who had. Anne’s father. She’d been so wrong about everything.

  “I can’t keep this.” Guilt had her trying to hand the brooch back to him. “It’s more yours than mine.”

  “Keep it.” He folded her fingers closed around the brooch. “And I’ll have the portrait reframed for you.”

  Blinking in shock, she shook her head. “No. Devon—”

  “Renee.” He wiped another tear off her cheek. “I care about you. I want you to be a part of my life, sweetheart.”

  Renee blinked, stunned and a little thrilled at his sudden confession.

  “You don’t have to answer me now. I want you to think about it.”

  “I will.” She managed a husky reply.

  “Good.” He grabbed his keys back off the desk. “I’ll take you home now.”

  “It looks bad. Really bad.”

  Renee held the phone away from her ear as Lucy scolded into the phone.

  “Did you see the picture in the paper? He was biting your neck like some kind of vampire. Damn. Wouldn’t that just be perfect?”

  Renee rolled her eyes. “He’s not a vampire. And most people won’t even recognize me.”

  “I did.”

  “You’re my best friend and you knew I was there that night. I’d expect you to.” Renee was sitting on her bed, the brooch resting on a pillow in front of her.

  God, it was so beautiful. Selling it was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

  “You’re in denial at how bad this is gonna get,” Lucy warned. “You’re not getting serious with him are you? It was just sex, right?”

  No. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to admit that to her best friend yet.

  “I haven’t decided on anything, but he wants to keep seeing me, and in a serious kind of way.”

  “That’s nuts. You need to think about this.”

  It was all she’d been able to think about for the last two days. Two days and it was embarrassing how much she missed him already. There was a noticeable emptiness gnawing at her insides.

  “You’re on the verge of getting Puppy Bliss into a full fledged success. You’re going to be all over the tabloids, and if you’re name is linked with someone as controversial as Devon Murray permanently, you’d better be prepared to lose some clients.” Lucy paused. “Because you know all your uppity customers are going to worry about their precious Fido coming home with a ball gag instead of a tennis ball.”

  Renee sighed. “People aren’t that judgmental.”

  “Wanna bet? Remember when Carla married that ex-con? Her bakery went belly up within a month.”

  “That’s because her food sucked,” Renee protested, but there was a niggling of doubt that told her Lucy might be right.

  “Are you going to gamble on it? You worked so hard to get your business on its feet. There are tons of men out there, Renee,” Lucy pleaded. “Don’t get hung up on a rich bad boy who’ll probably dump you in a few years for an upgrade girlfriend. I don’t care how cute he is. How good the sex is...”

  Renee frowned as he friend drifted off. Her tone had changed slightly.

  “Wait, are we talking about me still, Luce? Is something going on with you and Eric?”

  “What?” Lucy paused. “No, of course not. We’re not talking about me.”

  Renee wasn’t convinced, but knew better than to pry right now. “Look, I’ll call you later. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

  “You do. You really do, Renee.”

  A little frustrated with her friend’s negativity, she ended the call and stared at the brooch. Was it worth it? Risking everything she’d worked for to take a chance on a man she hadn’t known for very long? Who, just like Lucy suggested, would probably kick her to the curb not far down the line?

  Renee closed her eyes, the uncomfortable decision falling into place.

  Oh God...selling the brooch wouldn’t be the hardest thing she’d ever done. Walking away from Devon would be.

  She called him the next morning to tell him how she felt—somewhat relieved and feeling guilty about it when she got his voice mail.

  “It’s Renee. I’m calling about what you said the other morning...about how you wanted me in your life.” God, she sounded like an idiot. “Now that I’ve thought it over, I just don’t think it’s a very good idea. The sex was great, and we had a fun little diary adventure, but that was probably the gist of it. I mean, we’re probably confusing it for something it wasn’t. Right?”

  She broke off as she felt tears pricking behind her eyes. God, why was she doing this on the phone? Why was she doing this at all?

  It was too late to change her mind. To back out. She had to be strong. Think of her future. Devon swam in waters she couldn’t even float in.

  She drew in a shaky breath. “Anyway, I really need to focus on my business, but I wanted to thank you for everything. I had fun.”

  Fun? She was reducing their time together as fun? Before she could make it any worse, she ended the call.

  Renee set her cell down, feeling sick to her stomach. That was harsh. Ridiculously so. She’d known it even as she did it. But it was for the best. It had to be.

  Lucy was right, what good could come from continuing to see Devon? He was a bad boy billionaire. Sure, he had good days, but he threw sex parties and was into all things kinky.

  Though that wasn’t such a bad thing. The memory of the night he’d tied her up hit her so sharply that her sex clenched just thinking about it.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  Don’t dwell, move on. There would be other good lovers out there. And that’s all it amounted to, right?

  Her mind decided it was a good idea. Unfortunately, her heart was a little slower to agree.

  It took a couple of days, drifting in and out of a serious funk, before she could admit she’d made the wrong choice.

  She stood under the shower, eyes closed, and the heaviness of regret cloaked her.

  So stupid. She’d been so utterly stupid to let her own insecurities and fears of what other people would think make her shut Devon out of her life.

  When she was out of the shower, dressed and staring in the mirror, another wave of shame rolled over her. Regret. So hard. Poignant.

  The picture of them had caused a stir for a day or so, but shockingly she’d never been identified. Devon said he would take care of it and it started to look like he had the power and money to do so.

  She was an idiot. A complete idiot. She had to try and make things right, how wrong she’d been, but was it to
o late?

  Her phone rang, and for a moment her heart soared with hope that it was him. But a quick glance at the caller ID showed it was her grandparents.

  A lump rose in her throat, even as she acknowledged she could give them the good news about being able to pay of their mortgage. She’d done some online research, even talked to a jeweler, and once she finally sold it the brooch would easily pay off their house.

  She answered the phone, forcing herself to be upbeat and focus on the positive.

  “I was just about to call you later,” she said brightly. “I have some great news.”

  “Oh, darling, we already figured it out.” Her grandma’s voice shook with emotion. “I don’t know how you did it, but you really shouldn’t have.”

  “Shouldn’t have what?” She sank down on the edge of her bed, confusion sliding through her.

  “Paid off our house!” Her grandma gave what sounded like a laughing sob. “I didn’t realize your pet business was doing that well. Or did you come into money? How on earth did you do it, Renee?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Their house was paid off. How? Renee’s head spun. She glanced to make sure the brooch was still lying on the bed next to her laptop. Because unless she’d had an emotional blackout, sold it, then paid off the house, then it just didn’t makes sense.

  But the brooch was still sitting on a pillow next to her laptop where she’d been doing her research.

  “Renee? Are you there?”

  Devon.

  Realization hit with the subtly of a punch to the stomach. He was the only one who could’ve done this.

  “I’m here,” she whispered numbly. “When, umm, when exactly was it paid off?”

  “The letter is dated a couple days ago.”

  Oh God, and these things took time, which means he’d done it before she’d ended things with him. Before they’d even found the brooch.

  “You knew about this, right?” The first note of uncertainty crept into her grandma’s voice.