Seduced by the Billionaire: The Complete Collection

by Lee, Nadia

  She finally fished out a pale champagne-colored top and put it with black trousers. The sleeveless tunic was plain except for some sparkly beads around the bust, which made the outfit just fancy enough if Ethan decided to take her someplace really upscale.

  She took a small bottle of foundation and a dark eyeliner and applied them. Both were samples she’d gotten a while back, then stuffed in her makeup bag and promptly forgotten about. Who would’ve thought she’d ever use them?

  Twenty minutes and a pair of three-inch stilettos later, she was ready.

  Almost.

  Putting on her pearl earrings, she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn’t usually give this much care or thought to her appearance. She wore things that looked good and made her feel strong, and she didn’t usually bother with more than a little powder, mascara and lip gloss.

  Kerri contemplated her reflection. The careful makeup made her eyes pop and her mouth look moist and inviting.

  Did she want an affair? Well…not really an affair since she wasn’t planning to spend much time in Virginia, and it sounded like Ethan was very much needed here to man the fort at Global Strategies. She’d always wanted to spend some time in California. See what kind of jobs were out there. Unlike a certain friend, she didn’t have a billionaire husband and needed a steady paycheck to afford the little luxuries she liked to indulge in, like pretty non-work clothes and cute shoes she’d never find an occasion to wear. But most importantly, she needed a long-term distraction, something to keep herself busy with.

  A repeat of their one-night stand wasn’t totally out of the question. It’d be hot to spend another night with a man as attractive and physical as Ethan.

  So what would that make it? A two-night stand?

  Her doctor had told her to take it easy and avoid alcohol, stress and anything strenuous—good lord, his instructions had made her sound ready to keel over any minute—but he’d never said that she had to abstain from sex. She was overstressed with poor blood work, not dead.

  A part of her wanted to know if Ethan was as good as she remembered. She’d occasionally thought her boyfriends had been lacking in the bedroom department, particularly when compared to Ethan. But she could be romanticizing the memory, making it more intense and satisfying than the reality. The night she’d succumbed to Ethan hadn’t been just any night. The emotional impact of playing at an event celebrating a newborn child had left her unusually vulnerable and most likely magnified her feelings.

  So do him again and find out for sure.

  Not a bad plan. Once she proved to herself that Ethan was just like any other man in bed, she’d regain her equilibrium and control over the situation. The words out of his mouth would no longer feel like they dripped with innuendo.

  There was a knock, and after peeping through the hole, Kerri opened the door. Ethan stood before her, looking relaxed in a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of crisp khakis. He gave her a slow once-over, the weight of his gaze grazing her like a kiss. As her nipples stiffened, she was glad she’d chosen one of her more conservative outfits.

  “What happened to your hair?” he asked.

  She sighed. “It was a wig.”

  “Is this a wig too?”

  “No. It’s my real hair.” She smiled to herself at how annoyed her family’s PIs would be by now.

  “And Kerri’s really your real name? Like, for real?”

  Despite herself, she laughed. “Okay, I deserved that. Yes, I promise. Everything you see before you is the real me.”

  He nodded as he studied her coppery hair, bright as burnished pennies. “I like the real you. So, recovered from the trip?”

  “Feels like it. An afternoon nap can do wonders.”

  “Just imagine. Now you can nap every day.”

  “Until I get a new job.”

  He tucked a wayward tendril of hair behind her ear, his fingertip brushing the crescent curve oh-so casually.

  She suppressed a delicious shiver.

  “You could always negotiate naps into your contract.” He extended an arm. “Shall we?”

  She rested her hand inside his elbow and matched his long stride, her high heels making the job easier. The silk of her pants brushed her legs as she walked; her thighs and calves prickled with Ethan’s nearness. His dark cologne seemed to invade her. It was the same scent he’d worn seven years ago. Good god. She couldn’t believe she still remembered how sexy he’d smelled, down to the exact undertone.

  Outside the lobby, he opened a door to a sleek Aston Martin for her. She cocked an eyebrow. “Is this for me to drive around town after you bring me back?”

  He laughed. “Uh, no.”

  She climbed inside and ran her hand surreptitiously along the stunningly beautiful dashboard. This wasn’t just a car. It was a pinnacle of design and engineering.

  Ethan maneuvered the vehicle out and onto the highway. He drove with absolute control, and she felt she could trust him with her life. The sensation sent equal parts thrill and fear through her, and she cleared her throat.

  “So whose BMW was it?” she asked.

  “Natalie’s. A present from Alex because he thought she needed something other than her Audi convertible.”

  “What was wrong with her Audi?”

  “Not a damn thing. But the trunk is a little small.”

  “I can’t believe she gave me her brand new car to drive around in.”

  He shrugged. “She’s not here to use it.”

  “Yeah, but usually friends lend each other clothes. Accessories. Maybe a cell phone.”

  “Usually friends aren’t married to billionaires who’re determined to spoil them rotten.”

  “And who couldn’t wait to marry her so she could be his in every way.” Kerri half-slumped, half-leaned back in her seat. Ethan’s casual comment splintered something in her heart, something she’d never suspected was there. She didn’t care about money or the billionaire treatment; she’d been born into one of the wealthiest families in the world. But a fierce longing surged when she thought about the emotional bond that Natalie obviously had with her husband.

  Kerri wanted a bond that strong with a man who’d love her the way she was, thought the sun rose and set on her…but she was also self-aware enough to know she was unlikely to have that want fulfilled. She had no idea how to deal with emotional entanglement. She’d never learned how to be on the receiving end of love, never learned how to love in return, the give-and-take of a confident woman who knew she deserved closeness and affection.

  She believed people could learn and change, but she didn’t think she could ever change this aspect of herself. It was something as innate as her eye color.

  “You all right?” Ethan asked.

  “Just a little hungry. Speaking of which, what’s for dinner?”

  “Something home-cooked, unless you object.”

  “Not at all.” She made her tone light and airy. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in ages.”

  “Not big on cooking?”

  “Eh, living alone… Too much of a bother. Besides, the last thing I want to do is cook when I finally get some free time.”

  He gave her a look. “What’s the first thing you want to do?”

  “Relax, enjoy a few drinks, not think about anything. Great for de-stressing.”

  Your mind, perhaps, but not your liver, the irritating little voice that sounded remarkably like her doctor’s reminded her.

  Fifteen minutes later Ethan parked in the underground garage of a glitzy condominium tower in Arlington. He helped her out, and they rode an elevator with mirrored walls to his penthouse.

  The instant the door to his penthouse opened, the aroma of Italian food wafted out. A fabulous blend of thyme, rosemary and oregano mingled with tomato sauce and cheese made her stomach growl with impatience.

  “Hope you like lasagna,” he said with a grin so unexpectedly boyish and charming it pierced her heart.

  “Oh, absolutely.”

&nbs
p; He went to the kitchen and checked on the oven. “Done in ten more minutes.” He slid an aluminum foil-wrapped, oblong object into a smaller oven below.

  Curious to see Ethan’s home turf, Kerri checked the place out while he was busy among his stainless steel kitchen appliances. An impressively long, floor-to-ceiling glass wall started from the kitchen, stretched into the dining room and wrapped around the living room in a fluid curve. This high up, she could see a glimpse of the Potomac and the pale spire of the Washington Monument. Dying sunlight spilled through the glass like liquid gold. Elegant rugs covered the gleaming hardwood floor, all of them looking thick and luxurious. There was a skylight in the cathedral ceiling above.

  Built-in shelves crammed with books, movies and a few framed pictures surrounded a giant fireplace. Kerri purposely avoided looking at the photos and instead noted the expensive TV and sound system. Of course, she thought. There was a vase full of crimson roses and baby’s breath on a table by one of the couches. Overall, the place was warm, inviting and not at all like a bachelor pad cliché. Or like her old place in Hong Kong, which had been Spartan and functional.

  There was no hint of a housekeeper. She glanced at Ethan, who was still in the kitchen arranging various serving dishes. “Did you cook all that yourself?”

  “Yes. And just so you know, you’re about to be treated to the Lloyd family’s super-secret sauce. I don’t make it often.” He pulled a large bowl of salad from the oversized fridge and came out to place it on the pale blue glass-top table. It was already set with elegant white dinnerware and a dark vase full of fresh calla lilies. A bottle of Merlot had been uncorked, the wine left to breathe.

  Given how self-assured he was, this dinner was going to be either a complete train wreck or mind-blowingly delicious. She could guess which since this was Ethan in the kitchen. He exuded a confidence that said he knew exactly what he was doing at all times. He’d probably led a charmed life from the moment of conception: a loving home, adoring parents, siblings he was close to, fabulous friends…

  As a general rule, Kerri envied people like that. She’d never experienced a loving home or any of the rest of it. No siblings, for one. Her mother had been bipolar, giddily happy one minute, sobbing and tearing her hair out the next. Her father was dead, and her grandparents, ostensibly charged with raising her, had shipped her off to a European boarding school as soon as she’d turned three, and no one seemed to consider that she might have wanted to stay in the same place for a few years at least. Every time there had been a report of an accident or crime, her mother had found out about it and panicked. “That could’ve been Kerri!” she’d say and have an episode. So Barron would put Kerri in a new school. Going through an entire grade in the same place had only happened once. More often than not, she’d been transferred after a quarter or semester—admissions policies never really applied to her since Barron always got what he wanted—and she’d never had an opportunity to get to know anybody. She’d gone through almost every elite boarding school in Europe, and hadn’t returned to the States until she’d been accepted to Yale.

  But it was hard to begrudge Ethan, with his quick grin and those sharp eyes that warmed when he smiled. If not for his personal charisma, she might have been able to resist him way back when.

  He served dinner. She took a bite of the lasagna and actually moaned. “Oh my god. If the business world ever implodes, you can always make a living as a chef.”

  A fiery look crossed his eyes quickly—so fast she almost missed it. “Glad you like it.”

  “Where on earth did you learn to cook like this?”

  “Like I said, the recipe’s a family secret. My grandmother taught me. She was Italian, living in the Midwest with the farmer of her dreams, and decided I was good enough to learn how to make lasagna right.” He slid her a big glass of the Merlot.

  She sighed, wanting a taste, but purposefully dug into her salad and lasagna instead. Her doctor had been very specific. And she knew herself. If she took even a sip, it’d turn into a glass, which would then become two, maybe even three if she felt particularly indulgent.

  Ethan didn’t miss anything. “You don’t like Merlot? I have other options.”

  “No, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m just trying to not drink. The flight left me a little dehydrated.”

  He accepted the explanation and turned the talk to current events. He was a great conversationalist. He read widely, had traveled everywhere—more than she had—and had varied interests.

  And it was fun to talk about things other than work. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to do that with someone. But then the banking world was insular, almost incestuous, with everyone knowing everyone and everything.

  Ethan gradually began to narrow the topic of conversation. He was good, and made it seem natural, but she had years of experience parrying this sort of thing.

  “Where did you grow up?” he asked.

  “Here and there. Mostly in the States and Europe.”

  “Military family?”

  She smiled to herself. “Definitely not.” Her mother was too unpredictable, and her grandfather enjoyed his creature comforts too much to go without. “How about you? Where did you grow up?”

  “Mainly Houston, though I spent quite a bit of time in Nebraska.”

  “Where your Italian grandmother lived with the farmer of her dreams.”

  He pointed his fork at her, signaling that she’d guessed right. “Later I attended an out-of-state boarding school until I started college.”

  One boarding school. Singular. Lucky for him he hadn’t been transferred at every whiff of negative news on TV.

  He pierced a piece of sun-dried tomato. “Why did you choose to work in Hong Kong when you grew up in the West? You graduated from Yale and went to Wharton from what Natalie said.”

  Nobody expected me to go there. “I’d never been to Asia. Thought it might be fun.”

  “Odd choice for a career-minded white woman.”

  “Oh, that part wasn’t too bad. You do your work, you get your promotions.”

  “But then you left. So something must have soured you on the place.”

  “No, I left because it was time to try something else. Hours can get old fast.”

  “Even when you’re a VP?”

  “Even then. Just because I was good at my job doesn’t mean I wanted to do it for the rest of my life.” She tapped the rim of her wine glass. “Your turn. Why are you in Virginia? Global Strategies is headquartered in New York City, right? If you’re filling in for the CEO, shouldn’t you be there?”

  “Don’t have to physically be there to get the work done. Also, I’ve been out of the country for a while, and my mother lives nearby in Maryland.”

  His mother. Who undoubtedly doted on him.

  “How about you,” Ethan asked. “Any family around here?”

  The rest of the dinner went in a similar vein, Ethan gently probing for information about her, and she parrying with polite answers that revealed very little. He was persistent, but forthcoming when she asked him questions, as though daring her to match his frankness. Well, let him wait. A girl needed a secret or two, and Kerri didn’t bow to pressure when it concerned her personal life.

  Still, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself as much.

  Hours later, he pulled her chair out, helped her stand. “You sure you don’t want me to help you clean up?” Kerri asked.

  “Nah. I’ll just let the plates soak. Housekeeping’s coming tomorrow.”

  A smile lingered on her lips as she gazed up at him. “Thank you for the lovely time, Ethan.”

  One of his hands rested on the back of her chair, the other held hers. He looked directly into her eyes, and just like that the charge in the air altered, electrified.

  Her heart tempo picked up. Their breaths mingled in the small distance between them. Something fluttered in her belly—a hunger for him.

  All she wanted was his body, nothing more. This
was lust, pure and simple. Two mature, intelligent adults interested in making each other feel good.

  He slid the hand down to her wrist, his warm thumb resting against the rapid beat of her pulse. “So,” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. A millimeter more and they would graze against each other.

  She couldn’t speak, not with her blood hot, thick and roaring in her head.

  He closed the gap.

  All her senses sharpened and focused as their mouths fused. His lips were firm and persuasive, molding her softer ones to his. Sudden heat suffusing her body left her tingling and needy from head to toe. The memories hadn’t been romanticized at all. They were actually a pale shadow of reality.

  Still, once they slept together and the sexual tension dissipated, she wouldn’t want him like this anymore. She’d be firmly back in control of her body and its reaction to him.

  Wouldn’t she?

  Her hands sought out his wide shoulders, her nails digging possessively into the hard muscles. She didn’t want to let him go, not tonight. She’d been responsible for putting seven long years between them since their last time. Surely she deserved one night of decadence.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to his tall, powerful frame. His thick, hard length pressed against her belly. It made her feel sexy and feminine. This man—this gorgeous semi-stranger—wanted her as much as she wanted him. She opened her mouth and sucked on his tongue, while her leg came up almost of its own accord to rub along his.

  He crushed her to him, and her world tilted as he picked her up in what she knew was a prelude to ravishment.

  He carried her to his bedroom and kicked the door open, all the while continuing the kiss. Her mind no longer functioned, her body so focused on the promise of what was to come, his erection, his intent. He placed her on the bed, the silken sheets cool and sensuous against her bare neck and arms. His trembling fingers pulled her top and pants away, unwrapping her like a Christmas gift. Then he stood back and admired her body in the matching bra and thong.

  “If I’d known what you were wearing this whole time, we might have skipped dinner.”

  She gave him an impish smile.