Romance: The Campus Player: A College Romance

by Caroline Lake

  Suddenly, she threw herself at him, holding him in a tight embrace. He was surprised but hugged her back, stroking her hair.

  “You’re such an idiot,” she sobbed against his neck.

  “I’m alright, Janet,” he said soothingly.

  “You’re still an idiot.”

  They stood like that for a few minutes before Janet pulled away to look at him. He still held her as she ran a hand down his injuries.

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  “Much,” he replied.

  His closeness was impairing her judgment like it usually did. “Perfect,” she found herself whispering. “That means you should kiss me now.”

  He hesitated, as if hovering on the edge of a precipice before leaning in and capturing her lips with his. She pulled him closer as he moved his attention to her neck. She sighed in delight as he continued up her jaw.

  “You’re shivering,” he murmured.

  “It’s draughty outside,” she replied reasonably.

  “Invite me inside then,” he said lazily.

  Without waiting for an answer, he picked her up and kicked the door shut with his foot. He carried her to her bed and dropped her there. Janet hastily pulled her shirt down as she scrambled into a sitting position. She scowled at him but then invited him to sit with her. He kicked off his shoes and slid in beside her, pulling her close as they lay back against the pillow. The quilt covered them both.

  “Why did you hit Jih?” she asked quietly.

  “He talked about you in a way I didn’t like.”

  Janet turned to him in surprise. “I don’t want you beating people up on my behalf.”

  “It wasn’t for you. It made me angry.”

  They were silent.

  “Where do we go from here?” Janet asked. “You’re still a rich, spoiled brat and I’m still only just a serving girl.”

  “I thought maybe we could try a date,” he replied. “A real one. Just you and I, doing something normal young adults enjoy doing. A nice, uncomplicated evening.”

  “Ethan, if you think that’s even slightly possible, I’m willing to try.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her softly, resting his forehead against hers. Janet’s body was tingling all over from his nearness, the tension almost crackling between them. His fingers were trailing gently up and down her arms, creating a tension between the two of them as they looked into each other’s eyes. She was afraid to move, not wanting to break the spell.

  But then he sighed, before sitting up.

  “I should go.”

  She sat up too, frowning.

  “Don’t let me keep you from whatever is so important.”

  Ethan laughed. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold back with you lying half-dressed next to me. And I want to take it slow this time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Janet nodded reluctantly.

  She walked to the door with him.

  “I’ll see you at university and then we can arrange that date,” he said. He leaned down to place one last kiss on her lips before he departed.

  Enjoy the story? Sign up for our steamy romance mailing list to receive news on releases and promotions!

  Click Here!

  Have any feedback we can pass on to our authors? Email us at midspublishing@gmail.com

  The Billionaire’s Girl

  Veronica Cross

  The Billionaire’s Girl

  Copyright 2016 by Veronica Cross

  First electronic publication: November 2016

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of a sexual nature are consensual.

  The Billionaire’s Girl

  Chapter One

  Majestic pines lined the road on either side of the winding street. They did their job in providing privacy for the stunning estates sprawled along the acres of land. Yet every once in a while, in a blurry passing, Cara would catch a glimpse of an enormous mansion which stole away her breath and widened her alluring, almond shaped eyes into shocked plates of awe. The taxi was slowing to turn a curve and suddenly she was at the towering wrought iron gates of her new home. Cara pulled her body forward between the two front seats to crane her neck up the endlessly long drive, hoping to steal a sneak peek of the house beyond but she could not see anything up the hill, the protective plastic partition between the front and back of the car blocking her angle. She waited impatiently for the driver to announce his presence into the garbled voice on the intercom before she voiced her questions.

  “Do you know this house? Do you know Connor Lamoreaux?” she fired at him with more force than she intended. The iron bars fell away slowly, making way for the yellow car and the Jamaican born driver shrugged his shoulders in response.

  “Dis isn’t no house, mon. Dis is a castle,” he replied laughing at the nativity of her inquiries in a thick Caribbean accent. “And everyone be knowing Mr. Lamoreaux.” He shot her a pensive look through the rear-view mirror, as if attempting to gage her relationship to the internationally known businessman. He gave up trying to guess and asked flatly, “Who you be? His mistress?”

  Shocked at the blatantly disrespectful nature of his tone, Cara flopped back onto the worn vinyl seat and glared indignantly.

  “Of course not! I’m his new housekeeper.” The man shrugged again, chortling to himself as if he didn’t believe her. He then turned his chocolate eyes back to the drive and as they approached the mansion, Cara let out a gasp. The property loomed against the gray sky like something out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. “Monstrosity” was the first word which popped into Cara’s mind when she set eyes upon it. While the grounds were immaculately kept, the huge colonial style home was done in dark, forbidding tones and gnarly gargoyles leered from the ledge of the rooftop and from some outdoor verandas. There were two giant building wings separating the east and west sides of the building and the cobblestone front roundabout housed a five car garage in antiquated masonry work and an onyx fountain featuring a faun playing a flute. Its motif struck the black haired vixen as fairy tale meets horror flick and Cara felt dampness around her underarms. She quickly wiped her palms onto her pant suit and took a deep breath to steady her rapidly beating heart. She was exceptionally nervous but she forced the unease from her mind and handed the driver some cash.

  “Good luck with your ‘ousekeepin’, mon,” he cackled at her as he counted the bills before depositing her four large bags by her feet from the trunk of the car. She scowled at his mocking tone and turned to face the imposing front of the mansion instead of responding. In a bizarre contrast to the dark blue and gray accents of the house, the double doors were solid wood and stained a deep apple red. The rich wood was framed in an intricate stained glass in a prism of bright colors. She hesitated, unsure of what to do next. She had been hired through an agency and while she had met the head housekeeper, Tabitha at the office in Manhattan, Cara hadn’t thought to ask for specific instructions pertaining to her immediate arrival. She had no idea if she should knock on the door or stand on the drive and wait to be greeted. After a few moments of contemplation, Cara finally decided to simply ring the bell but before she even took a single step, the heavy portal groaned open and Tabitha walked out, in a matter of fact fashion to meet her. Her uns
miling face did little to disperse Cara’s anxiety.

  “You’re late, Clara,” she snapped, grabbing one of her bags off the cobblestone and abruptly turned back to the entryway.

  “Cara,” she corrected without thinking and was instantly regretful as Tabitha stopped to give her a look that would have chilled Dracula himself.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re late, Cara,” she snarled, clearly irritated by being contradicted. “Don’t just stand there! Get your bags. I have other things to do than babysit you today.” Embarrassed, Cara grabbed her other suitcases and followed the older woman into the house. Trying to keep up with Tabitha’s brisk pace, she only barely took in the expensive artifacts in the marble foyer. Tabitha began to speak, further distracting Cara from her surroundings as she strained to listen to the woman’s rough but surprisingly whispery voice.

  “You will begin work tomorrow morning at 6 a.m. Do not be late ever again. Mr. Lamoreaux is a very busy man and he relies on his staff to maintain a routine so that he is able to conduct his business with minimal interruption. Any interruption in our day to day schedule is a potential interference to his. Do you understand?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Cara replied quickly eager to win over her new boss. Tabitha paused and looked back at her. Her face was stony at first but then suddenly a brief smile passed across the grim features.

  “You’re polite. I like that. The last girl got fired because she had a big mouth. She liked to gossip with the other staff and speculate about things which were none of her concern. If you mind your own business and do your work properly, you will always have a home here. This job has some wonderful benefits. Mr. Lamoreaux is a very generous man. That being said, you will need to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

  “But I already did in Manhattan,” Cara called out. The senior housekeeper turned left into the west wing from the landing and continued down a hallway that never seemed to end, either unhearing or disregarding Cara’s reply.

  “The west wing is for guests and staff. Mr. Lamoreaux lives in the east wing. Aside from your cleaning schedule, you are not permitted to spend time in that wing. Only Mr. Lamoreaux and his butler, Kamil live in that end of the house.”

  “He doesn’t have any children?” Cara asked timidly. Tabitha shook her head without slowing her pace but Cara could hear the distain in her tone when she replied.

  “No. Don’t you have the internet in the city? Any Google search could tell you what you needed to know. I would have expected that someone in your generation would have run for the computer as soon as this job posting came available. He has never been married or had children. He is a self-made man and his work comes above all else.” She paused to glance back briefly. “However, he has a very healthy social live and hosts parties and charity events here quite frequently so there will be nights you are required to assist in those affairs. I think I explained all of this to you when we met.”

  “Yes ma’am, you did. That is no problem. I don’t have much of a social life myself,” Cara tried to joke but Tabitha did not acknowledge her attempt. Suddenly Tabitha completely changed the subject, catching Cara off guard.

  “The Carlyle’s in Long Island were very sorry to see you go, Cara. They said you were with them for several years and while they gave you a glowing recommendation, they were surprised to hear from me. They had expected that you would return to work for them. They mentioned you had left due to a personal matter. Why didn’t you return?”

  Cara was silent for a moment, swallowing the cotton in her windpipe. She chose her words carefully.

  “I was hoping to make more money after putting in that amount of time and it never worked out,” Cara lied. “I got tired of waiting.”

  At least that last part is true, Cara told herself. Tabitha finally stopped walking, landing them in front of a set of double doors. The oak portals were panel style and reached the twelve foot ceilings. They were simplistic but still beautiful.

  “Well, you’ll never have that problem working for Mr. Lamoreaux. As we have discussed, your salary is merely a starting rate but is much higher than the going rate of any housekeeper in the Hamptons. You can ask around if you don’t believe it. In fact, it is almost ridiculously higher than the average for these parts.” Cara knew Tabitha was not exaggerating. She knew how much less she had received working for the Carlyle’s.

  “After your probationary period is over, you are eligible for a raise and both medical and dental benefits,” Tabitha continued. “You will get a salary increased every six months thereafter with good performance. Like I said, Mr. Lamoreaux is a very generous man if you do a competent job. We have had staff members in this house for decades, some who have even retired. But with poor performance, you will be looking for another job and it won’t be on the east coast, I can guarantee you that.” With those words of advice, she pulled down lever handle on one of the doors and for what felt like the hundredth time since she had arrived, Cara’s mouth dropped to the floor.

  “This must be a mistake,” she finally choked, blinking at the room before her.

  “No, it’s not a mistake. This is your suite. You’ll find the bathroom on the other side of the bed, in the bedroom area of course. It’s just through the doors over there,” Tabitha instructed, gesturing at the far wall. “Unpack your belongings. You will find a wardrobe in the bedroom. If you’re hungry, go meet the chefs in the kitchen and have them make you something to eat. I have left a schedule for you in the staff room to read but we will go over it more thoroughly tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I suggest you do your best to acquaint yourself the property. Look around so you have at least some concept of what you’re getting yourself into. It’s a very large property and attention to detail is crucial.” Tabitha paused at the threshold to smile at Cara but it did not quite meet her serious brown eyes.

  “This is not an easy job, Cara but it can be rewarding a lot of fun. Enjoy the rest of your day. You won’t have a day off again for a week.”

  She was gone before Cara could answer. She stared after Tabitha, absorbing the information she was just given and then slowly, the dark haired beauty started across the gleaming hardwood floors. She looked around, blinking. Indeed, it was a suite. The front sitting room held a small, plush red loveseat, a gas fireplace and a real bearskin rug. There was a thirty-six-inch flat screen television mounted on the wall. An intricate wrought iron and glass coffee and end table pulled the room together and a remote control for the satellite and television were atop. A small bar fridge was tucked away in the corner and when Cara opened it, she found it stocked with water and fresh fruit juices. When she rose, she noticed a small desk in the opposite corner. A Mac notebook laptop was sitting on the glass top and Cara approached the area. She plopped onto the leather swivel chair and read the handwritten card on top of the closed screen:

  Dear Cara,

  Welcome to your new home. We are excited to have you here and we hope you will consider this the beginning of a wonderful journey. Please accept this computer as a small housewarming gift. Please make yourself comfortable and think of this place as your own. This estate is just as much yours as it is ours.

  Regards,

  Connor Lamoreaux and Staff

  Cara was completely stunned as she rose to her feet. She continued to look around with stars in her eyes, barely acknowledging certain aspects.

  For example, the room boasted no artwork of any kind and while it was wrought with functionality, it lacked any element of warmth whatsoever. In a daze, Cara wandered toward the frosted French doors on the far side of the room and into the bedroom where a four poster queen bed faced a bay window, showing the northwest part of the vast estate. From the window, she could just make out the pool and tennis courts to her left but she was hidden enough behind a variety of wild bushes, in the midst of an apple orchid. There was not a closet but a fair sized wardrobe overtook one wall and a bookcase lined with classic book titles lined another. Just as Tabitha had mentioned, beside the be
d was a door leading to a bathroom. The washroom possessed a steam shower, bidet and pedestal style sink. A large oval mirror framed in silver hung above the porcelain. The bathroom was fully stocked with shampoo, conditioner, soap and towels of all sizes. Everything was brand new for her arrival.

  What an amazing man allowing his staff to live so well! He must really consider his staff to be part of his family! He must be very lonely without anyone to come home to. Cara could not wait to meet the man himself and she silently vowed to be the best housekeeper that he had ever seen. I’m going to make sure that he always remembers me.

  After a quick unpacking of her luggage, Cara splashed some water on her face and changed her clothes before heading into the gigantic home. She made her way through the impossibly long hallway to the twin staircase separating the wings and found herself back in the foyer where she had entered. She carefully traced her slim fingers along the intricate wood of the banister leading down the steps, marveling at their pristine condition although it was obvious that the woodwork was very old. It still seemed to be the original wood however. Slowly, she walked along the outer walls, pausing to stare at the artwork adorning the walls. There were Salvador Dali prints hanging in frames but Cara did not recognize many of them. In spite of the time she had spent in the Carlyle home, a lavish brownstone in Manhattan, it had not prepared her for this much extravagance and style. No expense had been spared from the Italian marble floors to the gold flecked chandelier which was not illuminated by light bulbs but instead held only long stemmed candles. She would later learn that Connor Lamoreaux had stripped the interior of the original house and rebuilt it, having say in every aspect of the decorating. The floors and the light fixture had been imported from a nineteenth century Italian castle. Other pieces of the castle existed in the estate in various other rooms also.