Boss Likes Curves: A Curvy Girl's Billionaire

by Reed, Kristabel

  Yes. Yes, he is, Sabrina wanted to say. But she sipped her wine and embraced the smug feeling that that handsome man was with her. Was all hers. Smug? Was that the word she was looking for? Yes, in a way, but it was more than that. She was content and happy. Lucky, too. Not because she was with a man like Gideon but because she was with Gideon.

  And that was the difference.

  “Does it matter?” a third chimed in.

  “I guess not.” The first woman laughed.

  She turned from where Gideon stood with Horatio and looked at the women. She hadn’t paid their appearance any real attention before, but she now noticed that in addition to their copious amount of jewelry, their dresses clung to each curve.

  And they didn’t have curves like she had curves. They had boobs, yes, and she was catty enough to wonder if their breasts were fake.

  They were clearly hunting. She might not have realized that from their clothing alone; while too revealing and tight for her, Sabrina recognized top designers when she saw them. But their conversation made her think that. Sabrina supposed a celebrity chef’s book launch was as good a place as any to scope out a new, rich boyfriend.

  Was she being catty again? Sabrina shrugged and finished her wine. Maybe.

  “Let me see if I can brush up against him,” woman number one said.

  “Maybe you should try the old champagne trick,” her friend suggested.

  The wine churned unsettlingly in her stomach. Sabrina set her plate of food onto the bar and stepped away. Her movement caught the attention of one of the women who turned to look at her.

  “We girls gotta do what we need to,” the woman said with a fake laugh and even faker smile.

  Sabrina knew that by we, the woman meant them. Women like them. Tall, skinny, bright smile—the kind of women she’d always envisioned on Gideon’s arm. Those were the kinds of women who stopped at virtually nothing to snag the man they wanted.

  And Gideon was the kind of man they’d throw themselves at. All the time, and without subtlety. How long before a man caved to their charms, dubious as Sabrina thought those charms were. How long before Gideon caved to tall, skinny, and bright smiles?

  She looked across the crowd to where Gideon stood with Horatio, all smiles and laughs. A tall, slinky blonde stood at Horatio’s arm, flaunting all of her physical charms.

  How long could she hold onto Gideon? How long before he found a woman more like those women next to her? Or the one with Horatio? Had she stood next to Gideon, she’d look so very out of place in that picture. Sabrina glanced at her plate, still full of food.

  She glanced to where Gideon stood and saw him extricate himself and walk toward her. Did he look at the women beside her? Or was that gaze just for her? Sabrina couldn’t tell but forced a smile.

  The first woman took her chance, Sabrina watched her slink across the distance, and she wondered if she’d ever used the word slink to describe a human walking before. She shook off the errant thought and watched the woman. Gideon still hadn’t looked to the other woman.

  The woman bumped into him, all boobs and smiles. “Oh, sorry,” she purred. “These events are so crowded.”

  Seriously? Purred? Sabrina needed to think of better descriptive words. Or maybe leave. Now. She couldn’t watch what happened next. But her feet were rooted to the spot and she stared, unable to tear her gaze away.

  “No problem,” Gideon said with an absent smile.

  Sabrina was not prepared for the relief that washed over her. Was she really that insecure over his affections? After two months of him asking her on business functions simply so he could date her?

  The woman flashed him a smile and started to speak again, but Gideon left her standing and continued to where Sabrina stood.

  “There you are,” he said and kissed her. Not on the cheek as she expected, but a full-on kiss that made her heart skip a beat and her blood roar in her veins. “Missed you.”

  The touch of his mouth brought the barely banked embers of her desire for this man bursting back to life. Sabrina cleared her throat and had to take a minute before she remembered how to speak. When she did, she grinned up at him and slipped her hand into his.

  “Missed you too,” she managed.

  “How’s the food?” he asked, reaching behind her to snag a meatball. He didn’t let go of her hand, and after he popped the meatball into his mouth, he settled against the bar and brought her tight against his side.

  Sabrina couldn’t help but look to the quartet of women who now stared silently at them. Glared was more accurate, she decided, and the most vitriol was from the woman who’d made that pathetic excuse to her about women doing what they needed to do.

  “It’s not bad,” she admitted. “But we skipped lunch.”

  His grin turned hungry as this afternoon’s memory darkened his eyes. “Let’s go get something to eat. Do you want to meet Horatio?”

  Sabrina allowed him to tug her hand and lead her away. Just before she was out of earshot, she heard one of the women sneer, “Oh, he’s a chubby chaser.”

  She tried to ignore those words as Gideon introduced her to Horatio and they found a small table in the main restaurant for a proper dinner. The food really was delicious, and she was starved. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those women who didn’t eat when she was depressed.

  Instead, that was all she did.

  Sabrina tried to make small talk with Gideon but had a feeling he knew something bothered her. And despite how she tried not to stare around the room and wonder who else had their eye on Gideon and when he’d remember she wasn’t his type, Sabrina also tried to hide in the shadows.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have worn a dress as tight as this one. She tugged her wrap closer around her, though the temperature in the restaurant was quite comfortable. And despite her feelings, and her hunger, she wished she hadn’t eaten so much.

  Gideon had moved his chair from across the table to directly next to her, his hand on her thigh the entire meal. Sabrina sat stiff and awkward, so self-conscious she wanted to disappear under the table.

  Now, after she declined dessert, he slung an arm over her chair and kissed the side of her neck. Sabrina had no idea what he said only that he clearly wanted her again.

  Where had the woman from this morning gone? The one who pushed Gideon onto her bed and rode him until they both collapsed, exhausted and sated? Where was the woman who hadn’t minded that he saw her naked and bared to him, sunlight streaming through her window?

  “Gideon,” she whispered. “I need to go home.”

  He pulled back and nodded. In the dim lighting she couldn’t see his eyes, but knew he didn’t understand.

  “All right, we’ll go to your place.”

  “No.” Sabrina swallowed, her gaze sliding from his when he looked at her as if she’d spoken Chinese. “I have a middle-of-the-night call to Macau. I really need to make it, and I need a clear head for it.”

  She supposed it wasn’t a technical lie; she could call Macau about the liquor licenses and decorating, though the words tasted like ash in her mouth and made her ill. Her meal churned unpleasantly in her stomach.

  “Why don’t we table tonight?” she asked and her voice caught. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow morning.”

  He pulled back and studied her for a long, silent moment. She smiled and he returned it, though it felt stiff.

  “If you really need to,” he said lightly. “But I think your boss is a slave driver.”

  Her laugh sounded hollow and while he looked at her for another long, silent moment, he didn’t call her out on her lie. Now she felt as if she had to call Macau, if only to stop her stomach from churning so badly at her lie.

  “He really is,” she joked. It fell flat.

  “I’ll drop you off then.” Gideon stood and pulled out her chair.

  “No need,” Sabrina hurried to assure him. “I’ll take a cab. You stay and enjoy.”

  But he shook his head and gave her another look. “It�
�s not the same without you.”

  His words warmed her heart, melting the frozen block of ice sitting heavily in her stomach, but it was not enough for Sabrina to relax. Gideon guided her out of the restaurant and through the party, but she couldn’t find words to keep up with the conversation. They sat in silence on the drive to her apartment.

  “Not going to invite me up?” he asked. He’d bowed his head to study her, his hands on her hips, but he made no move to kiss her.

  Sabrina shook her head. The words stuck in her throat, but she smiled anyway. Lifting her hand to cup his cheek, she pressed her lips lightly to his.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Before he could stop her, before he could say another word, Sabrina turned and left him in the lobby. She tugged her wrap tighter around her and tried not to look at herself in the mirrors of the elevator. She didn’t need to see just how chubby she was.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sabrina lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. She hadn’t slept, hadn’t even tossed and turned during the night. Simply hadn’t been able to shut down her mind enough to even pretend to sleep.

  She’d tried working, but her brain hadn’t focused on anything. She knew she had called Macau, simply so a lie to Gideon wouldn’t really be a lie.

  “Stupid,” she mumbled into the pillow. “I’m being stupid.”

  Because it had still been a lie and the guilt still ate at her, no matter that she’d called Macau and had discussed business. Sabrina had no idea what she’d discussed with their people there, but knew she’d spent considerable time on the phone with them just to assuage her guilt over lying to Gideon.

  Was it the liquor license? No, that had already been cleared up. Oh, there’d been that ridiculous debate about wrought iron versus dome enclosures. She had no idea where that had come from or the outcome of it. There’d be an e-mail; she could catch up later.

  She needed to get up. Yes. Up and out of bed. Sabrina barely summoned the energy to lift her head from the pillow. She looked out the window to where the sun lighted the cityscape. She needed to get up, get her day started, shower and dress and pretend when she walked into her office nothing was wrong.

  Her head fell back to the pillow—it felt as if it weighed more than it should. Sabrina stayed where she was.

  It hurt too much to think about the office. To think about seeing Gideon again. Her breath caught and pain stabbed through her.

  What had she been thinking? Giving in to her feelings for him like that only led to heartbreak, and where was she? Heartbroken and lying in bed, alone, unable to sleep without him beside her.

  Oh, but she’d spent the whole night wrapped in the scent of him, hadn’t she? Annoyed with herself, or maybe just trying to overwrite the guilt currently churning in her gut, Sabrina threw back the covers and climbed from bed. With vicious jerks that pulled the mattress off the bed, she yanked off her sheets and threw them in a corner.

  Yanking out a fresh set, she remade the bed and tried not to think about what she and Gideon had done in her bed on her mattress with those discarded sheets.

  “I knew this was going to happen,” she said as she pulled harder than necessary on the corner. Something tore but Sabrina didn’t care.

  Before Horatio Price’s book party. And the slinky blonde on his arm. And the quartet of women plotting and planning to snag a guy. Her guy. No, not hers. Snag Gideon. Who was not her guy. Really. He wasn’t.

  Sabrina groaned and wished her brain would just shut off. Please, please, just stop thinking!

  It hurt. Everything hurt. Hurt to breathe, hurt to think, hurt to stay still.

  Forcing her limbs to move, to push her body out of bed and her feet to shuffle to the bathroom, Sabrina wished she was more like Audrey. Audrey was sassy and strong and perfectly happy in her body and with her curves—just like Audrey’s heroine, Mae West. Unashamed and bold.

  But Sabrina knew she couldn’t do Mae West. Hell, she couldn’t even do Audrey.

  Her friend didn’t have the body issues Sabrina did. She hadn’t run from Duncan because of insecurities over how she looked. No, Audrey had said she’d run because her feelings had grown too much for Duncan; they were too much for a simple holiday fling.

  Sabrina stood under the hot shower and washed automatically. But she moved gently over her body, over the nips and bites Gideon had given her. The ones that marked her. The ones that had made her shudder in need. Made her want him more.

  Angry and tired, she flicked off the shower and grabbed a towel.

  How stupid was she? How blindly thick was she to think giving in to her feelings for Gideon, showing him how she wanted him, lov—cared for him?

  Dragging her body from the bathroom to her bedroom, Sabrina stared, unseeing, at her closet. She was in no shape to go into the office. Her eyes drifted to her phone, where four texts and one purposely missed phone call from Gideon lay ignored. She could call in. Pretend she was sick. Or working from home.

  Before Sabrina knew she’d moved, her fingers hovered over the phone. But she knew what would happen. Gideon would show up on her doorstep. Insist on taking care of her. Or insist on distracting her from work.

  Swallowing hard, Sabrina snatched her fingers from the phone as if it’d burst into flames any second. No. No, she wouldn’t do that. Not to herself. She needed to face this, whatever this now was between her and Gideon.

  Or wasn’t. Face whatever wasn’t between her and Gideon. Not anymore.

  Once more standing before her closet, Sabrina tried to think. To plan her day. To, at the very least, find something to wear.

  “Amazing how fast a few skanks made me feel like shit,” she muttered and yanked out a dress.

  She hated everything. Nothing fit right; nothing looked right. The apartment was too quiet; she had no one to talk to about this. Not even one of her friends to ask about clothing.

  Still wrapped in her robe, Sabrina ignored her closet and her pathetic inability to find an outfit to wear, and sat at her vanity. Her hair hung down in wet, limp strands, starkly vivid against her pale face. The sleepless night had left her eyes puffy, though at least they weren’t red.

  She hadn’t cried. Wasn’t certain she could. Everything, every emotion, every laugh and kiss and each creak of the door opening her heart to Gideon, bottled up in her chest. Stopped her breath and made it ache. Ache so much Sabrina didn’t know how to make it stop. How to close the door to her heart. How to forget.

  With fingers that shook, she started on her makeup, to cover up the puffiness. Nothing to be done for the listlessness in her eyes. Hopefully no one would notice. Or comment.

  The only two people who would were Cynthia, whom Sabrina felt at least moderately confident enough to ignore, and Gideon.

  She sucked in deep breaths, unsure if she wanted to keep everything bottled or let it loose. But it hurt. Oh, it hurt.

  Sabrina dropped her mascara and stood, wandering back to the closet. Maybe her favorite suit would help, or at least give her a boost of confidence. She’d need it to get through this day. Get through the next hour.

  The robe dropped to the floor and she dressed, her movements slow and even. Suddenly afraid any sudden moves would shatter her, she felt delicate, as if she floated on air or was made of glass.

  Once more before the mirror, her hair still wet and makeup doing its best to cover up the worst of her no-sleep night, she hated it. Hated everything—the way she looked, the way she felt, the way the world refused to stop. The way those women’s words dug through her.

  Muffin top. She tugged at her bra and her blouse, but it didn’t go away. She was not the image of a sleek, sophisticated New York businesswoman. Or of any woman on the arm of a billionaire hotelier like Gideon.

  Sabrina tore off her suit and threw it into the same corner as her sheets.

  “So much for my favorite suit.” She let out a deep sigh, annoyed with everything. She combed her fingers through her hair. “Is nothing right today?”


  Rummaging through her drawer, she took out the slimming underwear. Better known as modern day woman’s torture devices. But once that was on and in place, all it did was move everything around to where she didn’t want it. Rearranging it didn’t make her feel any slimmer. Or any better about herself.

  “So much for the underwear equivalent of the rack.” The underwear popped off with a strange rubbery popping sound that made her grimace in disgust.

  Maybe she should just go into work in her robe. Maybe not. Not like doing so would make her feel any better about her body image.

  Naked once more, she put on comfy panties and a bra and grabbed a black dress from the closet. She felt like black today. Well, black and lying on the couch and staring at nothing for the rest of the day. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  The dress was moderately loose on her, if a little short. A little fancier than businesslike, but Sabrina didn’t care. She didn’t care about a lot of things this morning.

  Maybe she should just go on a strict crash diet. Or kick up her exercise, walk more than to the subway and back, maybe around the block or something. Up the stairs to the office? No, that was crazy—Gideon Hotels International was on the twenty-fifth floor.

  Concluding that was exceedingly unrealistic—the increased exercise, the crash diet, all of it—Sabrina grabbed her comb and slowly moved it through her hair. She’d probably lose fifteen or twenty pounds, feel great about herself for a bit, then gain it all back. Plus an additional five.

  “Can’t forget about that additional five,” she muttered.

  No, that wasn’t the way. She’d wanted this affair and had been willing to take the risk and open herself to Gideon. A week on from that decision, all her fears over the risk, all the little thoughts and sniggering comments she’d always shoved away and told her inner self to shut up about, now screamed at her.

  She wasn’t as resilient as she should be.

  What about Gideon?

  He’d pursued her for months, but he’d always loved a challenge. Was that a part of this? A part of the reason he’d taken so long and put in so much effort to seduce her?