Boss Hottie

by Hart, Alexa

  “Soph?” Michael, relaxes slightly with my forgiveness. “Be mine, okay?”

  I stare at him in confusion, unsure if the pain medicine is hazing my thought process. “I am yours. We already agreed to this on Halloween, remember?”

  “No, really mine. Can’t-back-out-mine. I’ll-murder-someone-if-they-touch-you mine – well, I think we’re actually already at that one, but you see my point.” Murder? Did he murder Joe Kelly? I open my mouth to ask, but something in his hand silences me. It isn’t just something. It’s everything. A small black velvet Harry Winston box, containing a ring.

  The most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen; a perfectly clear cushion cut diamond set in a dainty diamond-encrusted band, for too lavish to reasonably sit on anyone’s finger. I reach for the box, speechless, marveling at the rainbow reflections from within the depths of the center stone as the light catches it. Through tear filled eyes, I look up at him.

  “Sophia Williams, you’ve absolutely bewitched me. I was so scared when I thought I’d lost you, before we even really had a chance to be us. I never want to feel that way again. I want to experience everything in the world with you. I want to love you, and grow old with you, and kick legal ass with you until the day I die. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  I giggle through my tears, parting my lips to respond, but the door opens silencing me and interrupting the perfect moment.

  “Hello Miss Williams, my name is Dr. Breyer, I’ve been your attending physician since you were admitted. How are you feeling this morning?” The aging man is polite yet intruding as he glances over my chart.

  I flash a small, secretive smile at Michael, slipping the jewelry onto my left ring finger, and answer the doctor, never breaking eye contact with my fiancé. “Wonderful, actually. When can I go home?”

  Michael beams at me, gripping my newly accessorized hand and looking towards the doctor waiting for an answer.

  “Well, there are a few things I’d like to go over before we discharge you – would you like to speak privately?”

  “No. Michael can stay.” I assure him with a bit too much bite, pulling Michael’s hand into me, not allowing him to leave the room.

  “Very well then. You have multiple contusions and lacerations spread over the posterior of your body, as well as a severely bruised windpipe and two fractured ribs. We have you on high dose antibiotics to head off any infection from the cuts, but I don’t see any reason why you can’t continue those orally at home. As for the dressings, you’ll need to change them once a day, and come back in a week so we can reassess. Your ribs should heal on their own with time and plenty of rest, but we’ll give you pain medicine to make the process easier. Don’t worry though, it won’t hurt your baby.”

  Excuse me, what?

  “Baby? What baby?” Did I just hear him right? Am I high on morphine right now? I look to Michael as though he’ll have any more answers that I do, but his jaw is slack and his eyes are filled with shock and worry. “You must be mistaken, I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill.”

  The poor doctor glances back and forth between us, his face growing red with discomfort and maybe a hint of fear.

  “I apologize, I didn’t mean to—uh,” glancing down at my chart, the doctor confirms his statement. “You’re pregnant, Miss Williams. Rather early on, but definitely pregnant. The pill isn’t 100% effective even when taking it religiously. I apologize, I didn’t realize you weren’t aware. I’ll give you two a moment.” With that, he leaves, and we are utterly alone, the elation from our earlier solitude completely silenced.

  “I don't… I’ve never—” Michael struggles to form a sentence, swishing the words across his tongue and tasting them before speaking. “I’ve never pictured myself as a father, Soph. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you; if this is what you want, I want it too.”

  I mull over his sweet sentiment. Is this what I want? I’ve never considered it, always picturing kids as some far-off future.

  “I’m not sure, honestly… I don't want to jeopardize my career. I don’t want a family to get in the way of my professional potential, or vice versa.” My voice trails to a whisper as my sentence draws to a close. Is that wrong?

  Reassuringly grabbing my hand, Michael responds.

  “If that's your only fear, I’ll fix it. I’ll put a nursery in the firm if I have to in order to make you happy, okay?” I smile at him, trying to picture him with a baby in his arms. Strangely, I conjure the image with ease, reveling in the simple happiness of it.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “If you want it too—” I barely get out my beaming sentence before his deep and elated kiss interrupts me, almost picking me up with the enthusiasm of the moment.

  Chapter 22

  Sophia

  “Do you, Sophia, take Michael to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?” Beaming through the thin white veil of my simple strapless lace dress, I meet Michael’s eyes with adoration.

  “I do.”

  It’s been two weeks since I left the hospital, and my wounds have entirely healed. We decided right then in that room that, the moment I could stand without his help, we’d march into city hall to be unified. Well, not march. We did have to make an appointment.

  “Do you, Michael, take Sophia to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?”

  “I do.” The sureness in his voice wraps over me like a shield, blooming a warm and addictive sensation deep in my chest.

  The ceremony is short, and sparsely populated. Aside from the judge, Maya stands beside me as my maid of honor, surprisingly on Aaron’s arm. He is Michael’s best man. The secluded room brims with security, but no one else. This is ours, exclusively, and always.

  “You may now kiss the bride.”

  Sweeping my veil from my face, my husband pulls me into him, one hand cradling my cheek, and the other wrapped firmly at the cinched waist of my simple wedding dress, and he kisses me deeply. The kind of kiss you never forget. Soft, warm, and utterly devoted. I am yours, and you are mine, always.

  Chuckling against his soft lips, I mutter, “I could get used to this.”

  He laughs alongside me, kissing me once more before responding. “I think you might have to, Mrs. Carter.”

  THE END

  How about a little preview of Alexa’s steamy bad boy romance ‘Hard Bargain’? Can you resist a billionaire bad boy??

  They call him the sugar daddy of New York. Every woman’s wildest dream… richer than sin and built like a god. He may be gorgeous, but this is strictly business. There’s no way I could actually fall for Luke… right?

  I never thought in a million years that I would be seriously considering selling my v-card to a perfect stranger, but here I am… desperate.

  My brother’s life hangs in the balance and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep him alive.

  If that means doing Luke Inman… then so be it.

  I hear he never stays with a woman for longer than a month. And the payment for being his girl for that time is, well… let’s just say… I need that money.

  He can literally have any woman he wants. A virgin, young enough to be his daughter isn’t exactly on the top of his list.

  If I can get him accept my offer, I’ll do whatever it takes to please him.

  He can have all of me…

  For one month.

  I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I’m out of options.

  The worst part of all is the more time I spend with Luke, the more I find myself wishing for him to be my first.

  No cheating and a guaranteed HEA!

  Hard Bargain

  Chapter 1

  “He’s going to be fine, Mom. We will figure something out.” Bella said into the phone. She didn’t like the way that her mother’s voice had cracked when she was explaining the new surgery that her
little brother needed. It was a small thing, that slight waver in her voice, but it was enough to send a cold thrill of panic running under Bella’s skin. Her mother had always been a rock, unshakable, immovable. It was the legacy of her mother’s courage and strength that had emboldened Bel to take her future into her own hands and move to a different state in the first place. The many miles separating Bel from her mother and brother had never seemed so vast as they did that night.

  “I know. I know he is. I will figure something out, I’m sure.” Her mother said.

  “We will figure something out.” Bella asserted. She kicked a bit of loose gravel in the parking lot outside the restaurant where she worked. She needed to be clocking in at that very moment.

  “Baby.” Her mother began. “I don’t mean to burden you with this. I just needed to keep you informed on what’s going on. I know you can barely afford to live in that city as it is.”

  “Mom. He’s my brother. This has nothing to do with you burdening me. I will do everything I can to help. I’ll take as many shifts as they will give me. I’ll get another job. Whatever it takes, okay?”

  “You are already working too much as it is, sweetheart.” Her mother said, sounding defeated.

  Bella realized that a man had gotten out of the car that had parked alongside her own spot. He was politely looking away, but it was obvious that he could hear her conversation. Bel lowered her voice.

  “It’s not like this is optional. He needs the surgery, so he’ll have it. We will find a way to pay for it. I will find a way to pay for it. Leave it to me.”

  “Bel-”

  “Leave it to me, Mom. I love you. I have to clock in now.”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  “Mm-hmm, bye.” Bel nodded although her mother couldn’t see the subtle gesture over the phone, then hung up. Tying her black apron over her hips as she hurried in the back door, she rushed to the time clock and clocked in, only to be immediately accosted by her coworker.

  “Bel! Thank God, I thought you were gonna be late!” A bouncy, petite blonde named Ellen greeted.

  “I do try not to be, you know. We pretty busy?”

  Ellen shrugged. “Meh. But look who’s here.” She did a funny little jerk with her head, apparently instructing Bel to look behind her over her shoulder. Bel looked around at the customers seated at the tables in the romantically lit French restaurant, but she didn’t notice anyone who seemed familiar.

  “Who?”

  “Oh my God, are you serious?”

  Bel shrugged one shoulder.

  “It’s the Sugar Daddy of New York City.”

  Bella laughed. “The what, now?”

  “Luke Inman.”

  Bella’s face was blank, and Ellen rolled her eyes. “He’s the sexy older guy in sixteen.”

  Bel’s eyes darted to table sixteen, where a man sat alone. She recognized him at once as the man who had parked alongside her car and pretended not to hear her on the phone as he walked in. He had dark hair that was going slightly salt and pepper and by far, the most attractive features she’d ever seen. She had been so engrossed in the conversation with her mother that she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was when she saw him in the parking lot outside of the restaurant. He was clearly much older than her usual type, if she had a type at all, but men half his age would kill to have a body like his. Even through his flawlessly tailored dress shirt, Bel could see the chiseled, perfectly sculpted muscles beneath.

  “So, what’s he doing in Connecticut?” Bel asked. Ellen only shrugged.

  “Jan is leaving, you’re taking her station which means you get to inherit his table. Lucky. I wonder if he has a girl right now.” Ellen said, looking back over her shoulder to steal a glance as well.

  “Has a girl?”

  Ellen didn’t have time to elaborate because Jan, the waitress Bel would be relieving, approached and soon she was thrown into the beginning of the dinner rush. By the time she got to his table, she was in full work mode, and made no further appraisals of his obvious sexiness as she introduced herself.

  “Bella.” He smiled, repeating her name.

  Okay, maybe she was making further appraisals of his overtly obvious, undeniable sexiness. His smile was disarming, and his voice was unusually intimate. She needed to get a hold of herself. She’d been distracted enough with her brother’s illness lately. One more mistake or a late clock in and she feared she would lose her job. She couldn’t let that happen.

  He ordered a glass of their most expensive wine. The kind that was on the wine list almost as a joke. She’d been working at this restaurant for a couple years and she’d only had two or three people ever order that wine. She didn’t blink though, and just wrote down the order along with his meal.

  The evening rush kept Bella busy and before long, Luke had finished his meal and was paying his bill. Bel noticed right away that his tip was higher even than his bill, coming out to one hundred dollars. She gripped the card that was tucked into the bill folder as she stood at the register, her eyes squeezed shut and color rising to her cheeks. She knew that he was giving her this money because he had overheard her phone conversation with her mother. Her pride made her lips press into a firm line, but she couldn’t refuse the tip. Under normal circumstances she would have, but not now.

  When she returned to his table, she knew that her cheeks were pink, but she fought back her embarrassment anyway and, holding his gaze, she thanked him quietly.

  He didn’t respond in words, just smiled gently. Knowingly.

  When he walked out, Bel ducked into the restroom, locking the door behind her, then leaning back against it. A lump had formed in her throat when he’d smiled at her and now, suddenly, it seemed like the enormity of the situation was hitting her all at once. Hot tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she kept her breathing in check. Ian wouldn’t die. She wouldn’t let him. She would do anything to get the money for his surgery. It was going to be okay.

  She tried to take the outrageous tip as a sign that the universe was going to provide for her. But it was difficult not to see it as the random generosity of a man who could recognize the hopelessness of her situation even from a distance.

  She gave herself a minute or two before checking her makeup in the mirror, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks, and returning to work, taking comfort in the busyness that kept her mind occupied.

  * * *

  Luke Inman took a great deal of comfort from his money. Not the most spiritual or holistic ways of attaining inner peace, but there it was. Money was all he had to offer. Years ago, he had expounded on the bit of wealth he’d inherited from his family by investing in a tech company that now provided state of the art medical equipment to hospitals around the world. As the CEO of an international corporation, he was practically always on the road. He had no time for family, girlfriends, certainly not a wife. Hell, he didn’t even have enough time to dedicated to a damned goldfish.

  What he did have was money. And money can buy happiness, he had found, in one form or another. It was difficult to feel depressed on a private tropical island with staff on hand to attend to his every need. If he got lonely, he could hop on a jet and fly to Dubai to mingle with models and princes, or to Paris to sit at a sidewalk cafe and absorb the busy atmosphere.

  Since money was no object, and the world was his home, feeling unfulfilled seemed silly when he could go anywhere and do just about anything he wanted.

  Still, it happened. Still, he would find himself in a giant, plush bed in a private suite or villa and suddenly be overcome with an intense, crushing sense of doom and worthlessness. He knew that the technology he funded was saving lives all over the world, but at the end of the day, he was alone and felt like he was the one who needed saving. He needed to feel the warmth and softness of a woman. He needed a woman in his bed at night, someone who would beg for him to be inside of her, to fill her up and to make him feel whole again.

  Luke had played around with the idea of hiring an escort
as so many men in his position did, but the notion always seemed unsettling to him, so impersonal. Sure, the escorts he’d seen some of his colleagues with weren’t whores off the street, they were high class women, often educated and wealthy in their own right, still the idea had never appealed to him. He didn’t want to pretend, he didn’t just want someone to fuck, he wanted something that felt real, even if only for a short time.

  A few years ago it had occurred to him that maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince a woman that it would be worth her while to spend time with him. He could easily afford to bring a companion with him on his travels and provide her with all the money she could want for shopping and dining and anything else she may desire. This would all be in exchange for the kind of companionship he craved the most, of course, but it seemed less distasteful to him than the sort of itemized bill one receives from a professional escort. It seemed more organic this way. He would provide everything that she could want or need, and in exchange she merely kept him company, inside the bedroom and out.

  He didn’t want to get married. Ever. That was far too permanent. And he didn’t need any of these women getting the wrong idea. Money he could provide. The most intense, mind-blowing sex of their lives he could provide. But he wasn’t husband material, and they had to understand that from the start. He would have to put a time limit on each girl. A month. One month with him. One month of designer gowns, fancy parties, exotic travel and hot, dirty, best-of-your-lifetime fucking. After that he could set her up with enough funds to keep her comfortable for years, along with hopefully fond memories of her month with a mogul.