The Undercover Billionaire

by Jackie Ashenden

  He grinned, staying in that distracting crouch and interlacing his fingers between his knees, watching her.

  The champagne was icy and delicious on her tongue, not too sweet, yet with a yeasty aftertaste she liked very much indeed.

  Wolf raised a brow. “You like?”

  “Yes, actually I do.”

  “Excellent.” He rose to his feet again, his movement smooth. “You keep that glass and I’ll get myself another.”

  Olivia knew she should protest, that drinking a whole glass of champagne at five in the morning probably wasn’t a great idea. But she was still feeling dry-mouthed. And anyway, it was good to have something in her hands to fiddle with.

  “So,” she said as he picked up the bottle, “I was sorry to hear about your father. I mean, I don’t know whether you’re grieving him, especially considering what he did to you, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. And that if you want to talk about it, well, I’m here.”

  Wolf didn’t say anything immediately. He finished pouring himself a glass, then turned and sprawled down in the armchair he’d been sitting in before, putting the glass on the floor beside the chair. “Yeah, thanks.” There was no discernible emotion in his voice, but that meant nothing. People grieved in different ways and she wasn’t one to judge.

  “Do you … want to talk about it?” she asked hesitantly.

  He let out a breath. “No. No, I do not.” His mouth curved in another smile. “I’d much rather hear about you.”

  She could feel herself starting to blush yet again. Yes, she had to get that under control. He was her friend, nothing more.

  Glancing down at the glass in her hands so she didn’t have his glorious naked chest right in her face, she rubbed her thumb absently up and down the stem of her flute. “You know everything already. My emails were pretty self-explanatory.”

  “Sure, but I’d like to hear it from you. You went to college, right? I mean that’s what you always told me you wanted to do. But you didn’t end up studying history, you said.”

  She remembered those conversations they’d had in the library. About the future and their dreams for themselves. She’d always wanted to go to college to study history, while he’d always been clear that he wanted to join the Navy and become a SEAL like his brothers. Then he’d find himself a wife and settle down, because he wanted a family of his own.

  “No, not history in the end. I studied business because Dad said it would be more useful, and since he was bankrolling it…”

  “But you were into it, weren’t you?”

  “To be honest, not to start with.” She raised her glass and took another sip of her wine, letting it fizz on her tongue. “But I enjoyed it in the end. And Dad was right, it did end up being useful.” She might have regretted not doing some of the history papers she’d wanted, but the business subjects hadn’t been uninteresting. And she was good at them.

  “What happened after that?” He cocked his head, giving her a look she couldn’t decipher. “How were those internships?”

  After completing her degree, she’d had some internships at different companies, all part of her father’s plan for her to start working at DS Corp.

  “Oh, those were great. It was an excellent experience and the perfect opportunity to expand my skill base. I worked with some fabulous people.”

  He gave one of those soft, gravelly laughs. “Man, you sound so corporate.”

  “I guess I am pretty corporate these days.”

  “Apart from your nun nightdress.”

  She smiled, unable to resist the glint of amusement in his eyes. “I find wearing a pencil skirt and heels in bed a bit uncomfortable.”

  He laughed again and reached over the arm of his chair for his glass, holding it between long fingers as he studied her. “Yeah, no joke. So how come you’re still living at home? I thought you would have moved out by now. Got your own apartment, all that shit.”

  There was nothing judgmental in his tone, so she didn’t know why she felt defensive. Or why she felt the need to explain herself. But she did all the same. “I didn’t want to move out. Dad is all alone in that house, and when he stepped down from DS Corp last year, he needed someone to take care of him. Especially since my brothers weren’t interested.” Not when they were the ones who’d engineered his “retirement” in the first place.

  If Wolf heard the defensive note in her voice, he didn’t show it. Instead he took a sip of his champagne and watched her from over the rim the glass, his gaze vaguely unnerving in its intensity.

  She felt awkward all of a sudden, which wasn’t what she wanted to feel right now, not with him. “It’s fine,” she said, trying to cover it. “I like living with Dad. And hey, I get all my meals cooked and my laundry done. It could be worse.”

  “Yeah, right. I hear you.”

  “What about you?” Time to turn this back on him. “I guess you can’t talk about your missions and stuff, but … is the Navy all you hoped it would be?”

  He gave a slow nod. “Definitely. I mean, the training was shit and probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but being part of a team … It’s awesome knowing they have my back, no matter what. And I have theirs. It’s a family, you know?”

  She nodded, even though she really didn’t know. The de Santis family had never been like that, or if it had, she wasn’t part of it. She was the youngest and the only girl, and had been pretty much ignored for most of her childhood. Her brothers had had their own issues, but once they’d taken down their father, she’d pretty much decided that she didn’t want to have anything to do with them. In fact, the only person who’d been on her “team” had been her father.

  But only after Mom died.

  Yes, but what did that matter? He was on her side now and that’s what counted.

  “That sounds pretty amazing.” She took another sip from her glass. “So you kind of got the family you always wanted, huh? Must be nice to have that after all the stuff you had to put up with.” She’d seen the bruises Noah had given him. It had made her ache for him.

  He gave her one of his slow-burning smiles. “Yeah, you’re right. It is amazing. I’m heading back to base once my bereavement leave is over. Gotta support my buddies.”

  A pinprick of disappointment stabbed at her, which was silly. He would never stay, not now that he’d found his family. So she would enjoy his company while she had it. “Of course you do. I mean, I have the same thing with my dad. He’s my team and I have to support him.”

  “You’re a good daughter, Liv.” Wolf idly swirled the champagne around in his glass, studying her. “I hope he appreciates you the way he ought to.”

  “Thanks.” Something warmed in her chest at his praise. She didn’t often get it from her father—or from anyone, really—and she often told herself that she didn’t need it. That she knew he loved her. “He does.”

  One corner of Wolf’s mouth lifted. “Good.”

  The word sounded deliciously rough, making her want to shiver. She lifted her glass, taking another swallow to cover the response. If he would only put on his shirt all of this would be so much easier. “You must be cold,” she said. “Shall I get your—”

  “Tell me something,” he interrupted, draining his glass and leaning forward in the chair all of a sudden, the flute held between his fingers, his dog tags swinging.

  “What?”

  His mismatched gaze met hers. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Olivia’s midnight blue eyes went wide.

  Okay, it was a pretty personal question, but he thought they’d been friends long enough. And besides, it was extremely relevant to his plan. When he’d mentioned Daniel May earlier, she’d been very dismissive, so whatever her father wanted for her, she wasn’t holding a torch for that guy, that was for sure.

  But maybe there was someone else? Not that it mattered, not if her response to him was anything to go by, but it would be useful to know.

  A wash of pink st
ained her cheeks. Obviously the answer to that question was likely to be “no.” She’d been blushing nonstop ever since he’d taken his shirt off and now she was sitting on the couch in that awkward pose, right on the edge of it, as if she was getting ready to make a quick getaway. Nervous and that fucking virginal nightgown she was wearing … Yeah, he’d lay money on the fact that she wasn’t seeing anyone.

  In fact, he’d lay money on the fact that she’d never seen anyone.

  “No, not right now,” she said, slightly prim. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondered.” He glanced pointedly at her empty glass. “Another?”

  She blinked and looked down at it, as if surprised it was empty. “Oh. Yes, that would be nice.”

  He got up and came over to where she sat, reaching out for her glass as she held it up, noticing that she kept her fingers away from his, as if afraid of any contact.

  No, not afraid. Definitely nervous.

  She gave him a strained smile as he took the glass, and it was obvious to him that she was making a very real effort to keep her eyes up and to not look at his chest. And he didn’t think that was because she didn’t want to look.

  He turned to the ice bucket, pouring her another glass before setting it down on the coffee table in front of her.

  “What about you?” she asked as he turned and went back to the armchair. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

  “Nah. I’m not looking for anything long-term. Not while I’m in the Navy.” But once he had his mother back, he’d start looking for a special woman to share his life. Families, after all, didn’t create themselves.

  Her mouth twitched. “No, I don’t suppose you are.” She glanced at the ice bucket. “You’re not having another glass?”

  He leaned back in the chair and patted his stomach. “Gotta watch my weight.”

  As he’d hoped, her gaze went right to the place he’d patted then darted away again.

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” she muttered, taking another sip from her own glass.

  “Yeah, you got me. I’m very definitely a beer kind of guy.” Also, he didn’t drink when he was on a mission, especially not a mission as important as this one was. Her, on the other hand, well, he was quite happy to keep refilling her glass. Not that he particularly wanted to attempt a drunken seduction, but a drunken interrogation was an entirely different story.

  “That does not surprise me.” She smiled, sipping yet more champagne. “So, tell me about life as a Navy SEAL. Been on any dangerous missions?”

  He couldn’t tell her much about what he’d been doing since most of it was classified information, but he could tell her a few things—mainly about the grueling training he had to undergo to earn his trident. So he talked, and as he did so, he was conscious that though they hadn’t seen each other for over ten years, it felt like no time at all had passed. That he was once again seventeen and back in de Santis’s library, having one of those long, rambling conversations with de Santis’s fifteen-year-old daughter who, for some reason, was interested in what he had to say.

  He hadn’t been attracted to her then, though he’d liked her very much. Mainly because she’d been fifteen and, though reasonably pretty, too young for him. His father had tried to get him to take the relationship to a romantic level since that was more useful to the mission, but Wolf had insisted they stay friends. No one talked to him the way she did, as if he was smart and had something worthwhile to say. Certainly Noah had never talked to him like that.

  “I don’t need your brains, Wolf. That’s what your brothers are for. What I need from you is your strength.”

  He’d told himself he hadn’t minded not being as smart as his brothers. That he didn’t mind being his father’s weapon. But there had been times when it had … rankled.

  Such as when his father had refused to send him to the exclusive school he’d sent Van and Lucas to, instead sending Wolf off to a training camp where the focus had been on physical rather than intellectual skills. His father had said it was because he didn’t have the book smarts, that his strengths lay in his physical achievements, and that was more important.

  He’d tried not to care about that, but he had.

  So yeah, having Olivia interested in his conversation and curious about his opinions had been a pretty cool thing and he hadn’t wanted to mess that up by getting interested in her.

  But the more he talked to her now, the more it became clear that she wasn’t fifteen any more. She was a woman—hell, she certainly looked like one.

  It was true that she didn’t have the intense de Santis good looks the rest of her family did, but there were those expressive dark, winged brows and that very determined jaw. The famous de Santis eyes—midnight blue, like shadows—were also present and accounted for.

  Yeah, she had strong, very definite features that held their own appeal. And then there was her body, not that he could see much of it under the stupid white virgin’s robe she was wearing, but the slight hint of pink nipples was visible through the thin cotton and he could tell she was wearing white panties. Very cute.

  Okay, so if he was going to use her reaction to him as a way to get information, then a slow seduction was the next logical step. And shit, he wasn’t averse to the idea, now that he thought about it. Not at all.

  A lousy thing to do to use her like this. Selfish even. But then she wasn’t truly his friend, was she? Oh, she thought it was all genuine, and hell, he certainly thought of her a friend, but it had all been on his father’s orders as a way to get closer to de Santis.

  She was part of his plan and now it was time to put that plan into action.

  He would kill Cesare de Santis, avenge Noah Tate. And then he would find his mom. Just like his father had promised him.

  “Oh my God,” Olivia was saying. “You carried fifty pounds for how long?”

  “Twenty miles. Jogging.” He grinned, enjoying the shock on her face. “And that was an easy day.”

  “That’s … incredible, Wolf. I can’t even imagine doing all of that and surviving.”

  Was it incredible? He supposed it was from the outside. But then his SEAL training hadn’t been only about physical strength. It had been mental too, and that had been the part he’d struggled with.

  His father hadn’t wanted him to go into the SEALs, had wanted him to stay an enlisted man. Had told him he didn’t have the aptitude for it, and besides, he was needed to keep working for de Santis. But Wolf had decided that he’d wanted this and wanted it enough that he’d argued with his father—the only argument they’d ever had.

  Noah hadn’t been keen, but Wolf had argued him around in the end by telling him that as a SEAL he’d be even more deadly than he already was.

  “Lots of people didn’t survive,” he said, glancing at the liquid in her glass. It was almost empty. “The training is tough.”

  “You’re telling me. What got you through?”

  “Knowing that Van and Lucas got through. Fucking instructors kept telling me that my brothers got better scores than me, so I should give up right now.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Nope. I’m not a quitter.” It came out sounding more emphatic than he’d meant it to, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was time she knew something true about him.

  Yet Olivia simply nodded like it wasn’t any big surprise. “Of course you’re not. You never were.”

  He frowned, her acceptance making something uncomfortable shift inside him. “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh, I just remember how dead set you were on joining the Navy and getting away from your father. I know Dad offered you a job at DS Corp and a place to stay in New York, but you didn’t take it because you were very definite about going into the military.”

  That’s right. De Santis had offered him that. At the time, Wolf had been surprised by how much the offer had affected him. Noah had never offered him a position at Tate Oil, had never even mentioned one. And when Wolf had brought it up onc
e, Noah had laughed and told him not to be stupid, that he wasn’t the corporate type.

  He’d always known that, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to shake his own … discomfort at his father’s response. Strange when he didn’t even care about Tate Oil. But then, he was Noah’s son and he’d thought that maybe his father would have wanted him following in his footsteps.

  Apparently not.

  Then he’d found out that the offer from de Santis was for a janitorial position. Because of course Cesare didn’t want him working at DS Corp at a corporate level. What he’d wanted was for a Tate to be cleaning his toilets. It shouldn’t have felt like another kick in the teeth, even though he’d thought he’d gained de Santis’s trust by then, but it had.

  He wanted to tell Olivia the exact nature of the job, since he was pretty sure she hadn’t a clue, but he wasn’t ready for that discussion yet. It would lead to some unpleasant truths that she didn’t need to hear, at least not before he’d gotten the information that he needed out of her.

  “Yeah, I’m not the corporate type,” he said, parroting his father and not liking the way it sounded for some reason. “Guns and smashing the shit out of things is more my style.”

  Olivia gave him a look. “Is it? That’s not what you used to tell me.”

  He didn’t like that look either, didn’t like it at all. “It is now. You want some more champagne?”

  She glanced down at her once again empty glass and surprise crossed her face. “Oh, uh … maybe not.” Her head lifted and she looked around the room distractedly. “What’s the time? I should be getting home.”

  Shit. He needed her to forget this stupid time pressure.

  “Relax,” he said calmly. “The sun hasn’t even come up yet.”

  Olivia turned and glanced out the windows. “Oh, true. Well, still, I probably shouldn’t have any more.” She yawned, putting her hand over mouth.

  He frowned, noting the dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. Maybe his seduction plan could wait.

  Are you kidding? Take advantage of someone’s weak points, isn’t that the first rule of interrogations?