Buying the Billonaire (Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club Book 2)

by Rachel Angel

  Buying the Billionaire

  Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club

  Rachel Angel

  Buying the Billionaire

  Published by Rachel Angel

  Copyright © 2013 Rachel Angel

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  DEDICATION

  For Steve.

  Prologue

  Taryn

  I couldn’t help but relive the moment that really changed my life forever, forcing me to go out and find what I needed in this world. The haunting words of the preacher asking, “Do you, Taryn Summers, take Darren Stephens to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  At that moment I froze and my mind screamed out that I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t right and not what would truly make me happy. That moment of clarity shattered the illusion in a second and I could barely choke out, “No…no, I can’t.” I turned and ran out of that church, sprinting as if I was wearing my running shoes instead of my five inch stilettos.

  I’ll never forget that look on Darren’s face, wondering if I was kidding or playing some kind of sick joke. I wasn’t though and as tough as it was at the moment, not saying “Yes, I do” just last week was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Can you imagine if I would have said what was on my mind? I’m sorry Darren, but you just don’t have enough passion for me. I long for more and to have mind blowing orgasms, not just little tremors. Yah, that would go over really well.

  So, I’m a runaway bride who ran away from what looks on the outside to be a perfect match, but when it came to the bedroom, it was a mismatch, which I unfortunately thought mattered. I wanted a man who could give me my orgasms, a man who could fill me with desire every time he took off his shirt…maybe that only existed in romance novels and fairy tales, but for me, getting married was an once in a lifetime thing, and I wanted to find someone who could possibly come close.

  I’ve been here in Vegas ever since that day, knowing that I had to get away to clear my thoughts and stop the incessant flow of questions that came from my family and friends that day. I knew I’d let everyone down and embarrassed them. Heck, I embarrassed myself too, but it was worth it and the right thing. Or so I keep telling myself.

  Now I am looking down at the Vegas strip from my window at the Winn Tower, seeing many people moving about below with purpose, knowing exactly where they want to go and what they want to do. Me? I am not sure where I am going to go and certainly not what I am going to do. I know that I need distance from what I’ve known and loved all my life—the family vineyard and winery. It would just be too hard, especially with Darren so close to my parents, as well as my brothers, Max and Tanner.

  My week had been rather reserved so far, a combination of soaking up the sun by the pool, having some spa days, and checking in with my mom so she could make sure I was okay. My family was so protective of me and I suppose that’s why my bold actions really caught them off guard. It was so…unexpected, I guess.

  I walked over to rifle through the magazines in my room once again. It was filled with them, tempting the tourists to go visit the endless destinations of the Vegas strip or downtown area and spend their hard earned money there. There was always something happening in Vegas and better yet, what happened in Vegas was supposed to stay there—according to their masterful advertising strategy anyways. Hey…maybe I should think about staying here, I thought.

  I picked up the newspaper that had been slid under my door and started to look through the jobs section, wondering what someone who understood the ins and outs of wines could find to do in Vegas.

  The name Richard Enterprises popped out at me in the jobs section of the paper. I’d seen that name everywhere in the magazines. The business owned endless restaurants, clubs, and other high end resorts worldwide. I read the ad further and was definitely shocked to see that they were looking for a wine buyer to handle all their enterprises. I may have been an expert in Summers Wine, but that had led me to be an expert in all types of wine from all over the world.

  I grabbed my computer and started to search through my contacts, remembering meeting someone who worked at Richard Enterprises at a trade show or something. I wondered if they’d be able to give me some insight. I found it and called, hoping I could get the info I needed to get an interview with the company for the position.

  Ten minutes later I had a resume emailed over to Anika Mooreland, my contact from Richard Enterprises.

  One hour later I had confirmation that I would be having an interview with Sylvain Richard himself in the morning at his personal residence. I thought the personal residence was odd, but they said he was getting over a sickness and that location would be best. “So be it,” I said, smiling at how quickly fortune had come my way once I decided to try and find a job in Vegas. All that was left to do was get ready for the interview in the morning.

  Chapter 1

  Sylvain

  Having someone come to my private residence for an interview isn’t something that I’d usually consider, but my little flu bug had set me back enough with work and everything that must be attended to. I had to get a wine buyer in for all my facilities and fast. Getting shipments and proper inventory weren’t something that just happened overnight.

  What really had me fascinated was the thought of why Taryn Summers, a very important player in her family’s wine business, would not be back in Napa Valley at this moment working. Instead, she was in Vegas applying for a job and apparently more than willing to uproot her life and leave the old one behind. It was interesting.

  After the referral from Anika, an employee that I trusted greatly, I made a few calls to find out more about Taryn Summers and what was exactly going on in her life. I don’t need anyone unstable in charge of wine buying. That is the very reason I have to be looking for a new wine buyer right now. My old one had some personal problems, along with some false claims of wine knowledge, and it had cost me some awards and recognitions that I had wanted badly. I made a mistake once, but would not let it happen again. That was part of the perks of being me—Sylvain Richard.

  I was surprised to find out that Ms. Summers had dumped her fiancé at the altar, an apparently stand-up man who I’d actually met before and had even done business with he and his father, Terence Stephens. That was only a week ago and now it seemed that she was set to leave everything behind; including the family vineyard. When I’d searched her online I’d seen her in many articles and write-ups, celebrating the achievements of Summers Wine and being given huge accolades for her developmental strategies, as well as marketing efforts.

  Knowing what I knew, I couldn’t help but evaluate Taryn Summers for myself and see if she was as riveting in person as her image was online. She was a most striking woman, natural and carefree with amazing sparkling green eyes. Honestly, she was unlike any woman that I’d ever dated, not seeming to be one who was into running in high social circles as much as doing what she was most passionate about. If she was as passionate about wine as her picture claimed she was about life it would be a most promising interview.

  Chapter 2

  Taryn

  Looking at myself in the mirror I hoped that what I had decided to wear was appropriate. I’d never been to an interview at someone’s house. Knowing Sylvain Richard’s reputation I didn’t want to look too
willing, despite having a hunch that he was the type of guy who could make the ground from underneath me move out without any warning. All those stories had to have some basis behind them.

  My last assessment showed that I had just the right amount of make-up on and was looking pretty stylish and ready for anything in my gray pinstripe pencil skirt and white silky blouse. I hoped that it portrayed the type of sophistication that Mr. Richard would think would be required to purchase wines for his various businesses, plus earn respect from the staff when that was necessary.

  I took one last look in the mirror and thought, I want this job and a new start. Then I heard the phone ring and answered it. It was the front desk and a limousine was down there waiting to pick me up.

  A chauffeur in full uniform was standing by the back passenger door of the limo when I walked out, ready to open it up.

  “Miss Summers?” he inquired.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said. I got into the limousine and couldn’t believe that I was on my way to Sylvain Richard’s penthouse—something many women would likely die to do; taking a limo there too, nonetheless.

  The second the door to the limo was shut, I was in the middle of receiving a full olfactory assault on my senses. The smell in the limousine was so pungent and I started coughing, even feeling my eyes stinging from the overpowering odors.

  The chauffeur looked at me in the mirror and asked, “Is everything alright, Ms. Summers?”

  I smiled, trying not to look too ridiculous. “Let me guess. There was an open bar happening in the limousine last night?”

  The driver wrinkled his eyes, briefly turning around to look at me. He looked embarrassed and for a second I wondered if it was him. He was a young guy and looked like he liked to party. “Umm, yes there was. How did you guess? I tried to clean it up last night, but I guess I didn’t do too good of a job.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. I didn’t want the guy to get in trouble or anything. “I’m just very attuned to those types of smells. Just born with it.”

  “Oh good,” the chauffer said. The he started laughing. I couldn’t help but watch him as he fumbled for his words. “No, I mean not good. You can still smell the drinks…”

  “You really don’t have to worry. I’m a wine expert and I’ve been trained to smell just about anything that’s related to alcohol in some way and break it down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you smell in here?” the chauffeur asked.

  I smiled, knowing I’d captured his curiosity. “Some Russian River Valley Pinot Noir, Absolut Vanilla Vodka, and Bombardier Gin.”

  “Wow, that’s good!”

  “Actually, only the wine is good. The vodka and gin are given away by the two bottle caps in the cup holder,” I said, giving away my secret.

  “Hey, I know who you are now. You’re the wine expert.” The driver’s eyes lit up like he was keeping a secret from me and it unnerved me. Not as much as his perusal of me from head to toe though. “Sylvain will be in for a real treat.”

  That caught my attention. Barely any of Sylvain Richard’s workers knew him personally and it was seldom that he talked with any of them aside from his top executives. “You know him? Personally?”

  I shouldn’t have sounded so shocked, but I had thought it was odd that I was even getting to meet with him personally when he had so many well paid and highly qualified people working under him. I’d summed it up to having a passion for wine. Most people who did had a very intimate relationship with it, wanting to be involved in every aspect of wine related decisions from beginning to end. Yet, here’s a chauffeur saying that he knew him. Interesting.

  “I’ve driven for him a few times, Ms. Summers. That’s all.” The chauffeur took off and we started to make our way to downtown Vegas, where the penthouse was located.

  “Taryn please,” I said. I’d never been so formal as to enjoy when people called me Ms., ma’am, or anything in between. My name worked best for me.

  “Taryn, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jacob.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Jacob. So, if you don’t mind my asking; what is Mr. Richard’s like?”

  Jacob looked at me in the rear view mirror as he made his way down the boulevard. “He’s very commanding and bossy. Not a real patient man and certainly not one that has time for fools. Rumor has it that you make one mistake and you are out. That’s what happened to the last wine buyer anyways.” My eyes must have gotten wide as saucers because Jacob added, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “If I wasn’t nervous before I sure am now.”

  Jacob laughed at my nervousness, finding some sort of amusement in it that was unbeknownst to me. “Don’t worry. He’s usually nicer to women; pretty ones in particular. He can really put on the charm when he wants to get one in the sack.”

  “What?” I responded. I was pretty sure I’d heard Jacob right, but couldn’t believe that he’d say something like that.

  “Just saying you’re pretty, Taryn.”

  “Well, I’m not here to be bagged, Jacob. If that is what Mr. Richard’s is thinking than you can just turn around right now and take me back to the hotel. Interview over.”

  “Umm…umm…I’m sorry,” Jacob justified. “I’m just not used to picking women up from hotels for him. I just assumed…”

  “Well, don’t assume,” I said. I was trying to keep my calm, but my heart was racing.

  “I truly am sorry. It’s a compliment in a way. I’d just assumed that his tastes had finally gotten better. A wine expert and all.”

  I could feel the anger surging through me and I was about to lose my cool. What type of jerk was this guy? What was I getting myself into with such a philandering man? As if I needed to clarify my position again I stated, “I am here for a job interview. That is it.”

  Jacob smirked, turning to his quirky mannerisms once again. “That’s what they all say.”

  “Well, I mean it. If you are suggesting that this interview is an excuse to hopefully sleep with the infamous Sylvain Richard you are dead wrong and you can just turn this big piece of metal back around and take me back to the hotel.”

  Jacob started laughing and I thought I was going to completely lose it. “What is so funny?”

  “You.”

  “Me? I’m not funny and this is certainly not funny,” I said. My arms were crossed and my fingernails were digging into my palms, trying to control my temper. I hadn’t been so enraged since tenth grade when Bobby Granger lifted up my skirt at a high school dance. He received a black eye for his prank. Jacob wasn’t far off for his actions at this present moment either.

  “You’ll soon find out why this is so funny,” Jacob commented. He was unfazed by my anger.

  “I’m confused. What do you mean?”

  Jacob pulled up in front of a tall building, parking in front of it and hopped out of the limo. He opened up the trunk and I heard a slam. He came and opened the door and was wearing a leather jacket, looking more like a cocky young rich guy than a chauffeur. That’s when I realized that he wasn’t a chauffeur. But who was he?

  “Who are you?” I asked. I still had a frown on my face from the ride and how riled up it had gotten me. Oh my God. Is Jacob Sylvain Richard? I heard he was eccentric, but…

  Still smiling, the man who called himself Jacob stuck his hand out to help me out of the limo. I took it and as soon as I stood up I saw someone who looked just like him walking toward us. He looked a lot like Jacob, but was a few years older. His eyes were grey and intense and his hair was dark and wavy. He was a GQ model to the Nth degree.

  “Taryn, meet my bossy older brother, Sylvain Richard,” Jacob said.

  I looked at Jacob and then to Sylvain. I was thrown for a loop and not recovering as quickly as I would have liked to. I must have been wearing a classic dumbfounded expression on my face because Jacob burst out into laughter and I could feel a shade of crimson rise from my neck up to my cheeks.

  Sylvain looked at Jacob, tell
ing him that it wasn’t that funny. Then he turned to me and grabbed my hand. “I am truly sorry. My brother’s sense of humor is…let’s just say unique.”

  “I’m still confused,” I said. I didn’t like to admit that I didn’t understand, but this was way too bizarre for me to comprehend.

  “You see, Jacob helps me out during the summer. He likes to feel out people’s intentions for me and he came up with this elaborate idea to see just how attuned your nose was to various scents. It was the ideal test for him since you are interested in being a wine buyer for me.”

  “That was all a test?” I asked.

  “Yes, before I wanted to actually interview you I needed to know that you had some basic skills. I didn’t do that last time and it cost me. Since Jacob is my assistant this summer he is taking full advantage of it, as you can see.”