Billionaire Protector

by Kyanna Skye

  His golden eyes seem to glow in the dim light, and I can’t look away from the intensity I read in their depths. His striking features and broad shoulders do something wicked to my insides, twisting them in such a way that it’s hard for me to draw enough breath to introduce myself. Finally, he takes mercy and speaks, easing some of the tension.

  “Hello,” his voice is like sweet, thick syrup, low and smooth as it runs over me, “I am Owen Trent. You must be Lucy?” His gaze is still burning into me, and I barely manage a nod. One corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft, lopsided grin and suddenly all of my focus is there.

  “Terrance, you can go. I think you’re intimidating our guest.” The tall man who led her here gave a quick nod and turned to leave without another word but somehow she knew that he would be standing just outside the door, waiting and ready at a moment’s notice in case his employer needed anything.

  “Lucy, I have several questions for you, and it’s important that you answer them honestly.” The tone of his voice changed suddenly from syrup to sandpaper and a buzz of irritation finally lets Lucy find her voice.

  “I don’t lie, Mr. Trent.” She said, drawing herself up to her meager height of five foot five, a good foot shorter than his own. He didn’t even bother to apologize, just jumped right into a slew of questions.

  “Who is your family? Where are you from? How much is your annual income? And your family’s? Are they wealthy, or poor?” Before she can even get her mouth open to answer his way too personal questions, he’s continuing his assault, “What’s your romantic life like? Any boyfriend? Any close friends? What kind of wardrobe do you have? What is your dress size? You do wear dresses, don’t you?”

  “Wha– What? Yes, I do,” Lucy was finally able to stammer out, “What does any of that have to do with the caretaker position I’m interviewing for?” A pique of anger at his questions has her shooting out some of her own, “Who will I be taking care of anyway?”

  There’s a moment of silence from him before a slow smile spreads across his face in a way that has her whole body tingling despite her irritation.

  “Why, me, of course.”

  Chapter 3

  Why, me, of course. Owen’s words kept ringing in her ears even after two weeks. Lucy had given up hope that she would get a call back after that disastrous interview and the silence of the last couple of weeks was proof enough that she was right. What did he mean by that anyways? Owen Trent certainly didn’t seem like he needed anyone to take care of him. What would the job have entailed, sex?

  She gave a mental shake of her head as she continued winding through the maze of backstage in the tiny, independent theater. She dodged swinging drapes and jumped over ropes hoisting lights and stage props with her mind still juggling the question. If that was the job, then she didn’t want any part of it, and she was glad they hadn’t called her back. Right? Then why was there a small part of her that felt…disappointed? Get a hold of yourself, Lucy! We’ve got an audition to nail.

  “Hey, Luce, I didn’t think you were going to make it on time. The audition calls are about to start.” It was a small budget off-Broadway play, but any break would be sorely welcome. Her place on Tina’s couch was getting more and more precarious every day. Lucy looked up as Sarah, a girl that she had met several times before at auditions walked towards her.

  “Hi, Sarah. The bus I was on broke down and I had to wait for the next one. It’s lucky I made it here at all.” Lucy said with a forced laugh.

  “Yeah, lucky,” Sarah said with a snide smile of her own. She’d made no attempt to hide her opinion of Lucy. That she was too small town to make it in the cut-throat world of LA, and that she wasn’t right for acting because she wasn’t stick thin. Sarah’s name is called from the front of the theater.

  “Well, that’s me.” She says, already heading towards the stage.

  “Good luck!”

  “Thanks. You too.” Sarah throws her a quick wave before disappearing beyond the curtain. Lucy wonders briefly if she meant it. Sarah had invited her to several parties since she lived in LA and Lucy was still new and trying to figure everything out, but there was always an edge of competition to her that Lucy couldn’t figure out.

  Sarah was tall and lithe with a thin figure that would have fit perfectly in any fashion magazine. Lucy knew that some guys did like her curves, Sarah’s friend Peter for instance who was usually at Sarah’s parties and always made it a point to flirt with her, in a nice, if shallow, fashion. She thought of herself as plain, and that she could stand to lose a few pounds. Maybe then she’d be able to get more roles. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to struggle quite so hard. She shook her head.

  She actually did like her hourglass figure, but that wasn’t what people were looking for in their leading ladies, even if it should be. Lucy sighed, mentally replaying her audition lines in her head. It was one of her talents that had made being an actress seem like a good idea. She was able to look at a sheet of lines once and have them memorized, syntax, timing, enunciation and all. She had blown everyone in her small hometown away with her acting ability, but Reedville was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of LA.

  Lucy looks up at a cue from one of the assistants that were running around the theater. It was just about her time to go on. She shakes off her doubts and her mother’s voice saying she won’t make it, mentally preparing herself for the character she’s about to transform into, someone so different from jobless, nearly homeless, and utterly destitute Lucy Harrison that it’s almost a relief.

  The sudden ring of her phone makes her jump and the narrow, censorious look from the stage hand has her hastily grabbing for the cell and flipping it open.

  “Hello?” Lucy whispers.

  “Miss Harrison?” A familiar voice says. It’s Owen’s Butler, Terrance.

  “Yes, this is Lucy.”

  “Mr. Trent says you must come, now.”

  “Wait a minute, what the hell–?”

  “You must come now. That is all.” He hangs up the phone before Lucy even has the time to ask what’s going on, and what he meant.

  “Harrison, Lucy Harrison?” A voice from the front of the theater calls and the assistant hisses at her.

  “You’re up, sweetheart. Time to get off the phone.”

  It was only then that she realized she was still holding the phone to her ear even though Terrance had hung up. Confused and disoriented, she puts it away, takes a deep breath, and heads for the center stage. There’s a spotlight shining directly on her, and the heat of it makes sweat bead up on her brow.

  “You can begin as soon as you’re ready.” The faceless voice says. She can’t see a damn thing because of the bright light shining directly in her eye.

  “You don’t know–.” Lucy stammers the first words of the line but then the impossible happens. Her mind goes blank. Well, not entirely blank. All she can see is Owen Trent, tall, imposing, and so handsome it makes her mouth go dry whenever she thinks of him. Like it does now. She tries to start again.

  “You don’t know how…oh, shit.” That’s it. She can’t remember any of the lines. She turned then and ran off the stage, her heart sinking.

  Chapter 4

  Lucy knocked on the door to Owen’s palatial house and just like last time the door opened immediately, as if Terrance somehow knew exactly when she would be there, or that she would be there at all after his cryptic phone call.

  “Hi, T. I can call you T, right?” Lucy asked, tongue in cheek as the somber, too serious man led her inside. His only response was a suffering sigh, and she barely held back a chuckle. Her humor dwindled however when she thought of the dismal audition she had just bombed, and her horrendous living situation with Tina. At this point, she was willing to do anything to get out of that situation. After all, it can’t be much worse, right?

  Terrance once more takes her up the winding grand staircase, and Lucy stops suddenly when she sees him standing there. Owen. He was obviously waiting for her, and as we neared Terranc
e slowed, disappearing down a long narrow hallway and leaving Lucy and his employer, and her own now too, all alone.

  “Hello, Mr. Trent.” She finally works up the courage to say.

  “Please, call me Owen.”

  “Well, then. Hello, Owen.” Lucy tries again, attempting to cut through some of the stifling tension that seems to always exist between them. She’d never felt anything like it, but whenever they were in the same room, it was like she couldn’t breathe like he was sucking up all the oxygen and leaving her panting and light headed. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’s drop-dead gorgeous, she tried to tell to herself as he turned, gesturing for her to follow.

  Lucy trails after him as he walks into the nicest bedroom she’d ever seen. Tall, vaulted ceilings, lush drapes and subtle but luxurious color palette of light blue and gray gave the room an expensive, glossy feel that made it seem like she was walking into an expensive suite. There was another door on the opposite wall that led to a private bathroom the size of Tina’s entire apartment and a massive bed takes up another wall entirely. There’s a glittering dress laid over the comforter but before it really registers Owen is talking.

  “You have some time to change out of your clothes,” he nods at the loose pair of old sweats she has dismissively and then at the dress on the bed, “we’ll be dining in a half hour.”

  “Dining? Wait, I don’t understand–.”

  “What is there to be confused about, Lucy?” The way he says her name has chills tripping down her spine but she has to stay focused.

  “Well, then, what…what are my hours? I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t get the job, so–.”

  “There are no hours,” he said, interrupting her again, “I may need you at a moment’s notice. You must be available at all time.”

  Lucy swallowed hard at the words. What, exactly, does that mean?

  “For…For what?” She asked but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he nods his head in a brief goodbye and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Lucy circles, gazing around the room in awe. This was where she was going to stay? She ran her hand over the soft, satin sheets and almost shivered in delight. But she still had her doubts. Like, what exactly was she going to be asked to do? Dine with Owen? Why did that thought have both anticipation and dread swirling through her?

  It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself. As of that morning, she was officially homeless. She had gone back to the apartment to find the locks on all the doors changed and her stuff dumped in a pile just outside. Lucy stared at the bed again. That sure beat the hell out of sleeping on Tina’s raggedy old couch. She might actually get a good night’s sleep.

  That reminded her that before she could that, she had to have dinner with Owen first. How bad could it be? It’s just dinner. She picked up the dress and gasped as she read the familiar designer name on the tag. It must have cost a fortune, probably more than she would make in an entire year. With a grin, she walked towards the bathroom to clean up and change. Maybe this job really was the answer to all of her problems.

  Chapter 5

  The dinner goes surprisingly smoothly. Owen is gorgeous and turned out to be just as charming and gentlemanly as he was fine to look at. It crossed Lucy’s mind more than once to wonder why he didn’t have a million pencil thin women at his beck and call. Why would he need to pay her to dine with him? A more than curvy, relatively unattractive woman who doesn’t have any money to her name.

  She takes another sip of the dark red wine from the glass in front of her, watching him over the rim as he told her another story of living in LA. Confusion floats away with the alcohol and she can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him touch her. What it would be like to kiss him.

  Whoa! Whoa! Slow down a minute. Lucy takes a deep breath as she carefully puts the wine glass down. Where the hell did that thought come from? Hadn’t she said she wouldn’t resort to sleeping with people for money, and that’s essentially what it would be? She peers up at him through a thick fringe of lashes. But damn, he was so handsome it was almost impossible to look at him and not at least…wonder.

  Delicious food and two glasses of wine take their toll on her system, relaxing her and she finds she’s been actually having a good time with him for the past few hours they’d been sitting in the homes regal dining room. But wouldn’t it be even better if he asked me upstairs? The thought flies through her head and she freezes. Get a hold of yourself, Lucy Harrison! She tries to put a damper on her wayward thought, and even more wayward body but nothing seems to help. Distance. She needs distance. Now.

  “I…I’m sorry,” Lucy stammers out, interrupting Owen mid-sentence, “I’m exhausted. It’s been such a long day and I really should be getting to bed.” She starts to rise, hopeful when he makes no move to stop her. She makes it a single step away from the table.

  “Wait.” His voice is suddenly harsh, with a note of something bittersweet underneath that she doesn’t quite understand. “Please, wait a minute.”

  Lucy stops and turns towards him, wondering what it is he might say.

  “I need one more thing from you first.”

  Oh, shit. Here it comes. Her heart sinks to sit heavy and solid in her gut and she just knows what’s coming next. He expects her to sleep with him. Before she can even think of a way to back out of the situation he is out of his chair, his strong grip at her elbow unbreakable as he leads her down a long hallway. Think. Think. Think.

  Before she even realizes, they are stopping gin front of a large, vault-like door that she hadn’t noticed before. Come to think of it, Terrance had specifically steered her away from this part of their employer’s home when he had given her a brief tour earlier in the day.

  Owen presses a few numbers into a keypad mounted on the wall and the door slides open soundlessly.

  “Um, Owen, Mr. Trent, I mean…This, uh…” Lucy’s words trail off as she takes in the contents of the small room. It’s dark and the walls are lined with a metallic material that gleams dimly in the small amount of light radiating from the bare overhead lightbulb.

  But what really captures her attention is what’s on the walls themselves. Various lengths of chain are strung through the room and giant padlocks that look like they could keep out anything short of a battering ram. Whoa. Wait a minute. Is this some sort of sex room? Her doubts turn to dread as she takes it all in, trying to take a step backward but Owen’s grasp on her arm hasn’t slackened in the least and he leads her inside. Lucy tries to ignore the small kernel buried deep inside her that sparks hot like a match being lit at the mental image of being chained up all for Owen’s pleasure.

  But instead of moving closer, he quickly backs away from her and she notices the expression on his face. Not the face of someone intent on ravaging a poor girl, but resigned, tired, and surprisingly…gentle.

  “This isn’t what you think.” He said, finally breaking the heavy silence between them. He walks over to the wall, shrugging out of the black blazer he wore to dinner. “I need you to chain me up.”

  Lucy stared at him for a long moment.

  “This is some sort of joke right? Like a test or something?”

  “No joke. No test.” He said, and the sincerity in his tone told her he was being serious.

  “Are you…are you sure?” Lucy asked, taking a step closer, still suspecting a trick.

  “Lucy, I’m paying you a lot of money to do what I ask of you. This is a simple thing. Please. Chain me up.” His eyes bored into her own and she couldn’t look away as she took the chains and padlock and trapped him to the wall by both hands and feet. Because the truth was, he was right.

  “I need you to return in the morning at six to let me out. The code is 1487. Can you remember that?”

  Lucy almost snorted. She could remember an entire scripts worth of dialogue, as long as her brain wasn’t too fuzzed by a tall, dark and handsome stranger.

  “Repeat it to me.” He demanded.

  “1487,” Lucy said. He had her say
it five more times before he was satisfied and she turned to go.

  “Thank you.” His words, so softly spoken that she barely heard them has her turning around and staring back at him. The sadness in his eyes is like a physical blow and she has to bite back a tear as she slowly shuts the door, locking him in. Why? Why does he want to be chained up? Is it some weird fetish? And why did she suddenly feel like she wanted to cry a million tears, all for Owen Trent.

  Chapter 6

  Lucy spent the entire night tossing and turning in the biggest, most luxurious bed she had ever not slept in. She was bleary eyed once six o’clock in the morning rolled around but was dressed and standing in front of the vault door that she had locked Owen in, ready and waiting. All night she had fought against those same feelings of sadness that had seemed to emanate off of Owen before she had shut the door on him and now a million questions and worries tumbled through her head. Would he be angry? Would he be okay? What would she find when she finally opened the door?

  The alarm she’d set on her phone went off, making her jump in the empty hallway. She had set it just in case she had managed to fall asleep the night before. Fat chance of that happening. Hastily she typed the four digit code into the keypad. 1487. And the door once more slid open.

  Lucy gasped when she saw him, squinting through the dim light. The light bulb itself, the only illumination in the room to begin with, was gone, shattered into tiny glass fragments on the floor so she could only make out his outline but even that was enough to let her know that he’d had a rough night, much rougher than her own sleepless one.

  Owen was slumped against the wall, his breathing rough and shallow and as Lucy walked closer she could just make out the dark growth of beard shadowing his jawline, and something else that she hadn’t been able to see from the safety of the hallway. He was naked! Completely naked! His clothes, the same ones he’d been wearing the night before were now nothing but a pile of shredded rags littering the floor around him.