Billionaire's Protest: A Complete Romance Series

by Kira Blakely

  His brows rose, and he shook his head. He actually looked upset, and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t falling for his act.

  “Brag? I didn’t come here to brag, Bonnie. I came here to apologize. I wish I didn’t have to do this. I know how hard you’ve worked on the company and your codes,” he said, taking a few steps toward me. I couldn’t take my eyes off those large hands, the ones he was now holding out toward me. His broad chest rippled under his t-shirt, and I could feel myself going weak in my knees.

  I stepped away from him, which made him stop, and I edged closer toward the wall. I didn’t want him anywhere near my breathing space. Whatever feelings I had for him in college were long gone now, replaced by rage and fury. His handsome exterior, that casual shaggy charm hid a heart of steel, just like his eyes. Nobody knew it better than I did. His gaze flickered, like he was embarrassed that I had stepped away from him. That I was treating him like a villain. But that’s the thing, I had convinced myself that he was the villain. This wasn’t about my company anymore. It was me against him.

  “No apologies needed, Nash. Nobody’s died. I’ll survive. You do what you have to do, I know you’ve been trying to one-up me ever since college; now you have your chance,” I said, standing with a straight back with whatever dignity I still had left in me.

  But absolute chaos was occurring inside my head. Because as he stood before me, I was imagining how crazy it would be if Nash took a few long steps forward, pinned me to the wall with his powerful body and took me right there. Focus!

  “One-up you? This isn’t a part of our little game, Bonnie. It isn’t college. This deal isn’t personal, just business, and I just wanted you to know that I am sorry,” he said, not smiling anymore. He was still playing Mr. Apologetic. I wasn’t going to fall for it.

  Bulldozing smaller businesses was something Preston and Son had been doing for decades. And now Nash Preston had become one of them, too. It had always been his destiny, even though he had tried to portray himself as anti-establishment, a regular hard-working guy in college. The truth was that it was in his blood, and he was just like his father. And I wasn’t about to change my mind about him now.

  A surge of confidence took over my body. He might be the winner here, getting to buy my company and prove he was better, but at least I had my independence. At least I wasn’t chained to family duties. At least I got to live my own life and not the one shaped by my daddy.

  “Sure. It’s just business. And now, get out of my apartment,” I growled at him.

  He didn’t expect me to say that to him, so directly. What had he expected? A red carpet unrolled at his feet, a tray of coffee and bagels on arrival?

  He raised up his palms in a show of defense and shrugged. “I was just trying to be polite, touch base before our meeting and clear the air,” he said, stepping away from me.

  “There’s the door, Nash,” I snapped, pointing to the front door. He swung his head to look at it, and then back at me again. A flash of sincere remorse appeared in his eyes, but I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. I’d spent too much of my time in college giving him the benefit of the doubt. I had been weak and stupid back then, but not anymore.

  “Take it easy,” he said and started walking away. Finally! I could feel my shoulders heaving from the growing tension building up inside me. I wanted to scream. Throw a flower pot at the back of his head. I couldn’t believe that at one point in my life, I had imagined that I was in love with this man. What an asshole he had turned out to be. I couldn’t thank my lucky stars enough.

  “It suits you, Bonnie,” he said suddenly, turning to me at the door as he held it open. I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he was talking about. I was still panting noiselessly. Neither did he offer an explanation. It had been five years since I’d last seen him. He was buying my company, and I was supposed to hate him. Yet, I felt so breathless. It would just be easier to hate him if I didn’t still lust after him.

  In the next moment, Nash Preston was walking out of my apartment, gently closing the door behind him. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  Chapter 3

  Nash

  I ran my fingers across the row of crisp white shirts hanging in my walk-in closet. Honestly, they all looked the same, but they were an essential part of my wardrobe. My father had insisted that I hire a stylist initially when I took over the company chair, but I was confident from the start that white shirts couldn’t go wrong. I reserved them only for work though.

  I had recently gotten into the habit of waking up at six in the morning so I could hit the gym. My days were now usually very long, and the weekdays merged into my weekends with very little time to spare. Now I knew why my father was always in a bad mood when I was growing up. But this had to be done. It was my family legacy, my inheritance. I had to keep the company going even after my father retired. That was what was expected of me, and I couldn’t disappoint.

  I could feel the sweat from my workout trickling down my abs as I walked around the closet. I needed the workout. Two solid hours in the gym made up for all the hours I now spent sitting behind a desk. I didn’t usually spend this much time thinking about my clothes or what to wear. But the prospect of seeing Bonnie Calhoun again had changed everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a little bit excited.

  Before yesterday, it had to have been at least five or six years since I’d last seen her. Just the sight of her, after all this time, had knocked the breath out of me, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from walking into her apartment. She’d worn a silk robe, but I could picture that body underneath. Those perfect breasts, those long silky smooth legs, her shining blond hair still damp. She must have just come out of the shower. She’d looked delicious, ready to be eaten. I’d always been attracted to those flared nostrils and that spark in her eye when she got mad. And Bonnie was always mad. Short tempered. A great believer in sticking to her rigid beliefs.

  In college, she hadn’t approved of my lifestyle, my fraternity ways. And I always got the feeling that she judged me for my family money. Even though I didn’t care about it back then. Maybe I still didn’t. But she always looked at me, down her long sharp nose like she thought she was better than me. That somehow, I belonged outside her moral compass, that she was too good a person to be associated with me.

  I smiled as I pulled out a navy tie with aquamarine stripes. Those would match her eyes.

  I still couldn’t get the image of her in that robe out of my head. And was she turned on? She had to be, given the state of her nipples. I’d always known she wanted me. With most girls, it was easy for me to tell that they wanted me inside them, that they wanted me to give them toe-curling orgasms. But Bonnie always held back. She judged me too hard and probably convinced herself that I wasn’t worth her time. Because we were so different and we came from such different places.

  But that didn’t mean that her body could resist me. I could always tell that her muscles stiffened and her cheeks flushed when she was around me. An internal struggle to deny the physical attraction she was obviously feeling.

  I picked out the textured cufflinks for the day from their velvet box and snapped them on my shirt cuffs. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to see her.

  She had kicked me out of her apartment as though I had done something horrendously wrong. But I still wanted to see her again. See those blue eyes shoot daggers at me, her perfect white teeth biting those luscious pink lips. I wanted her to acknowledge that I had won in the long run. I was buying her company.

  A nerve twitched on the side of my eye as I started buttoning my shirt. In any other case, this victory would have been sweeter. Our company was successfully acquiring a threat. A small business threat, but a threat nonetheless. Father was proud of me. I was doing my job right. But it was Bonnie Calhoun. I was doing this to a friend. To her, of all people.

  Granted, she was quick tempered and always pissed at me. But I had noticed the fiery dismay in her eyes. This was really affecting her. I had seen what
the company meant to her. How disappointed she was because she had failed on her own.

  I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. Tailored black pants, ivory white shirt in broadcloth, perfect navy blue tie, cufflinks, Rolex on my wrist. I was as good as ready for the meeting.

  “Sir?” I was still thinking about the look in Bonnie’s eyes, when a different female voice interrupted my thoughts. I saw Sera’s reflection behind me in the mirror. Sera, in her professional-sleek bun, her tight skirt suit, her razor-sharp nose.

  “Get Leo to bring the car around,” I said, tucking my shirt into my pants.

  “Of course. And a woman called, four times actually since this morning. You were in the gym.” She was leaning slightly into the closet, her hand gripping the doorframe.

  “A woman? Bonnie Calhoun?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. That was very unlike her, but she might be desperate now.

  Sera shook her head and smiled at me through the mirror. She had been my secretary for no more than seven months, ever since I took over. But I knew her well enough by now to know that she had something interesting to tell me. Her lips curled in a way that told me that she was trying to suppress an even wider smile.

  “Marjorie. Marjorie Otis,” she said flatly, waiting for my reaction.

  I had to think for a second, before my eyebrows rose in recognition of that name. The woman I’d banged last Saturday. I had made the mistake of bringing her back to my place. I had a strict policy of fucking women anywhere but at my own home. It was always difficult to get rid of them in the morning otherwise. And that turned out to be true in Marjorie’s case. She refused to get out of bed, demanded breakfast, I had to skip the gym and was late to work. She didn’t believe me when I insisted that I worked on Sundays.

  “What did she want?” I asked, smoothing the front of my shirt.

  Sera’s smile widened, and she stepped fully into the closet, closer to me. “She wants to speak to you, but I told her you’re busy, of course,” she said in a whisper. I couldn’t help but laugh. There was nobody else around us; there was no need to whisper!

  “Thank you, Sera. You’re a star. Keep that going until she stops calling,” I said, stepping away from her to make my way to the shoes.

  I thought she had left, but I felt her lingering presence behind me.

  “Do you need help? With picking the shoes, I mean, sir,” she asked, as I bent down to pull out a shiny pair of black Oxfords.

  “No, thank you, Sera. Just get Leo to bring the car around. That’s all,” I said, sitting down on the ottoman to put my shoes on.

  “Of course. I’ll see to it right now,” she said and turned on her heels to walk away.

  I caught a brief glance of her swaying ass in the tight pencil skirt, but I was quick to look away. As efficient and attractive as Sera was, she was my secretary. That was another policy I wasn’t about to break. Moreover, I had more pressing matters at the moment. Bonnie Calhoun and her long legs.

  Chapter 4

  Bonnie

  I shouldn’t have been thinking so hard about what I was going to wear. I was about to go hand my company over to that goon of a man, for God’s sakes! But there I was, blinking at my open closet at the handful of formal clothes that I owned. Our company wasn’t that kind of company. We never bothered with a dress code. The sound of Nell typing away on her phone as she scrolled her social media feed was distracting.

  A dull aching throb pounded in the back of my head. I’d had too much to drink the previous night at the office party. Out of depression and desperation, I texted Nell at one point and she offered to come pick me up and bring me back home. Now I was hungover, exhausted, sick to my stomach with what I was about to do… and yet, I was stupidly worried about making a good impression on Nash Preston.

  “How ridiculous is that?” I said aloud, turning to glare at Nell, who was still sprawled on my bed, her head bobbing over the covers she had pulled to her chin.

  “What? That you want to look good today? There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t need to look like a hobo yet,” she said.

  I sighed and turned to scan my clothes again. This wasn’t just another one of my rants. I literally had nothing to wear.

  “And about Nash Preston… I mean, of course. The man is buying your company. You should want to impress him, leave the room with dignity. It’ll be worse if you turn up in sweatpants,” she continued as I pulled out a gray dress from its hanger.

  “All right I get it. What do you think of this?” I asked, holding the dress up to my body.

  “That’ll do. Black pumps? Tie your hair in a bun. Professional to a T,” Nell said, straightening up in my bed.

  I started undressing, stepping into the dress eventually and zipping it up. It had one of those long thick zippers that went all the way down my back, accentuating the curves on my hips and my legs.

  “You look great. You’ll be fine.” Nell was trying to be encouraging, so I smiled at her, even though I knew that with each passing second I was getting closer to not owning my own company.

  “I really just want this day to be over,” I said with a huff, placing my hands on my hips and pouting my lips.

  “I know. It will be, and now I need to get to my own job, before someone has a stroke,” she said, suddenly jumping off the bed and rushing to the door. I smiled and shook my head at her. Nell was always late for everything.

  “Best of luck, sweetie, and I’ll talk to you later. After this is all over.” She came back to give me a hurried kiss on my cheek and then she was gone. I was alone again, starkly aware that time was slipping through my fingers.

  ****

  I wasn't alone in the Preston boardroom, thankfully, but I couldn’t keep my feet from tapping the floor vigorously. My toes clenched and unclenched inside my black suede heels. My business partner, Peter Sullivan, and I were sitting beside each other on one side of the unimaginably large oak table. Someone had brought in a tray of coffee and breakfast Danishes and placed them in front of us, but neither of us had much of an appetite.

  “So, this is it eh?” Peter said, without looking at me. I had my hands clasped together on my lap as my feet continued to shake. Peter was more relaxed, more resigned to our fate, but he had that deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. The only sign of nervousness he gave off was that he kept taking his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his balding head.

  The board room was foreboding, intimidating, and it was also a symbol of how our company was now going to belong to someone else.

  “Tell me you have a great last-minute idea,” I said, looking at him sideways. He only smiled nervously and shook his head. For the past two months, we had racked our brains, gone through our accounts over and over again. We were just not making enough money to pay our employees, to keep afloat and also pay back the loans. Acknowledging that we had been a failure was the hardest thing either of us had done.

  I tried to sympathize with Peter more. At least I was single. Peter was a new dad, with a six-month-old baby at home. He would have no other choice but to look for employment now. Whereas I could possibly hold back from that for a little longer if I wanted to.

  I had a sudden urge of solidarity and reached for Peter’s clammy hand. The money from the sale of the company to Preston and Son would provide us with some much-needed relief. Especially Peter and his family. I couldn’t imagine being in his position.

  “We gave it our best shot, Peter. We had a good four years, can’t fault that,” I said, smiling weakly at him.

  He only nodded his head and then hung it from shame. Was he blaming me? Did he regret his decision to give up a high-paying coding job and take the plunge on a business venture because I had convinced him to? I gulped as I sat back in my chair. I didn’t want to think about how the failure of my company might have affected his life. It was done now. No point dwelling on it.

  We had been sitting in the boardroom by ourselves for close to twenty minutes now, with no sign of Nash Pr
eston or any of his board members. Definitely a power play, and I rolled my eyes in silence. So typical.

  The door behind us flew open just then, and both Peter and I jumped in our seats. When I turned, Nash was walking through, followed by five other people. They made their way deliberately to the other side of the table.

  I could feel my nostrils flaring the moment I looked at him. I wanted to be angry at him, but he looked so devastatingly handsome. He was in a tailored black suit, a crisp white shirt and the most expensive-looking navy and aquamarine tie I had ever set my eyes on. This guy really knew how to put on a show. He was a picture of success and wealth. A brilliant way of frightening the small-time players into submission. For instance, six people on his side versus our measly two.

  I cleared my throat and stuck out my chin at him, as he took a plush-looking chair right across from me. Our eyes met. His gaze was gray, steely and clear. His dark hair wasn’t shaggy anymore but neatly styled to the side. His stubble was still there, but somehow it looked polished, neater. This was his daytime corporate look, and I looked away from him. He was smiling at me like I had made some sort of joke.

  “Nice to see you again, Miss Calhoun.” Nash broke the silence, and I swung my gaze to look at him again. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t stop staring at him, even while he was going to deal me the hardest blow. Every time I looked at him, a part of me seemed to forget what we were all here for.

  “Good morning, Mr. Preston,” I said, squaring my shoulders and trying to create the illusion of stoic professionalism. But I feared that he could see right through me. That he knew exactly what I was thinking. That in all the years I had known him, I had never once touched those chiseled abs that I drooled over when he played basketball shirtless on campus. I took in a deep breath, hoping some oxygen would drive out the strange thoughts filling my mind.

  “And you must be Mr. Sullivan,” Nash said, stretching out his hand to Peter and the men shook hands across the table.