Billionaire Extraordinaire

by Leanne Banks

  “Later,” he said. “We’re burning daylight. Put on your swimsuit and meet me downstairs.”

  “Uh—” She started to protest because she had actually planned to conduct a thorough inventory of the suite, but he was the boss. “Okay. Give me just a few minutes,” she said and walked inside the suite.

  Even though Damien had been a perfect gentleman, she couldn’t escape the barely hidden predatory watchfulness in his gaze. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the simmering attraction between them.

  Unpacking her swimsuit, Emma told herself she would just have to push her curiosity about Damien aside. Holding up the black string bikini her mother told her she must buy in order to fit in with the other tourists, Emma had second, third and fourth thoughts. Grabbing her sunscreen, oversize sunglasses, baseball cap and checklist, she told herself this was just business.

  Damien lounged by the pool, responding to messages on his BlackBerry as he waited for Emma. He was counting on making this trip a turning point. By creating some distance between her and corporate headquarters, he planned to increase her sense of loyalty to him—mentally, physically and sexually.

  Glancing upward, he spotted a pale woman wearing a baseball cap, huge sunglasses and a mesh cover-up that didn’t conceal a tiny black bikini or the voluptuous body beneath it. Spotting her silky brown hair swinging over her shoulders, he realized it was Emma. Since she always hid herself beneath tailored suits, he’d only been able to imagine her naked.

  Swearing under his breath, he took in every delicious inch of her. Her baby-pale skin would fry in this sun, he thought, immediately deciding to get an umbrella to shield her. Her full breasts bounced with each step. Her hips swayed invitingly.

  Then she stopped suddenly as if she were looking for him. He caught her nervousness as she licked her lips then bit her upper one. He withheld a groan while he mentally stripped her of those tiny pieces of fabric.

  Damien stood and moved toward her. She immediately caught sight of him. “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “It took me a little extra time because I had to put on sunscreen.”

  Damn shame, he thought. He would have loved to apply it himself. “No problem. I thought we’d go out to the beach since we don’t have much time left today. We can check the pools and hot tubs later.”

  “Sure,” she said and followed him to the towel hut. Holding the wooden door from the pool area for her, he took a lingering glance at her backside as she stepped in front of him.

  Uh-huh. He had plans for her. They walked onto the beach and one of the beach staff approached them. “May I help you?”

  “We’d like a cabana with two lounge chairs,” Damien said.

  “Right away, sir,” the beach staff said and led them to a cabana, brushed sand off chairs and situated them underneath.

  “Thank you,” Emma said.

  Damien nodded and tipped the man.

  “Excellent service,” she said, sitting down on the chair.

  “Yes. Like I said, it’s almost like they know they’re being evaluated. But that couldn’t be possible, could it?” he asked, studying her face.

  She looked away. “Maybe they’re always conscientious.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed, but he already knew that Emma had informed Max about the trip. Ultimately, it wouldn’t be his loss. It would be MD’s loss because they wouldn’t get an unbiased view of the resort. “Of course, here comes the cocktail waiter. What would you like?” he asked Emma.

  “Something from the bar?” the waiter asked.

  “I don’t need anything. I brought water,” she said, pulling a bottle from her bag and taking a sip.

  “You must order something,” he said. “How can you comment if you don’t try everything?”

  “You order for me, then.”

  “Beer for me and Sex on the Beach for the lady,” he said and met her gaze dead-on.

  Emma made a little choking sound. Damien took the opportunity to rub her back and gently squeeze one of her shoulders. “Okay?”

  “Fine. Just fine,” she said in a husky voice, leaning back in her chair. She covered her face with the cap from her head.

  The waiter quickly filled the order and Damien drank half his beer while he urged Emma to polish off her mixed drink. He pulled off his T-shirt and baseball cap. “Would you like to go in the ocean?”

  She sat up, but paused. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the ocean.”

  “How long?”

  “I live in Vegas, remember, so ten or more years.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Then we need to fix that right now,” he said and led her toward the water.

  “There’s no rush,” she said with a slight protest in her voice. “I don’t have to do everything the first day.”

  “This isn’t everything. This is just a little dip.”

  “Yes, but I think I might prefer the pool.”

  “It’s been so long. How would you know?” he asked, tugging her into the surf.

  “Whew! It’s cool, isn’t it?”

  He smiled, finding her shyness appealing. “Are you afraid of the water?”

  “Oh, no,” she protested, but continued to grasp his hand like a vise.

  “No problem. We can take it as slow as you want,” he said, coming to a stop. He felt her gaze on him for a long moment, but couldn’t read her expression because of her sunglasses.

  “I can go a little further,” she said in a low voice that had Damien visualizing her naked and beneath him again.

  Oh, heaven help me, I’m standing next to Damien and he’s half-naked. How in the world did he maintain that body? She shuddered at what he might think of her body. No one would call her reed-thin. A man like Damien must be accustomed to dating women with model-perfect figures.

  Emma tried to push those thoughts from her head. It didn’t matter if Damien thought she wasn’t thin enough. In fact, it was all the better. With the cool water fluttering over her ankles, she stepped deeper into the ocean. The water splashed against her calves.

  “Okay?” he asked, and she abruptly noticed that she was clasping his hand with a death grip.

  “Oh,” she said and tried to loosen her grip, but a wave took her by surprise. She gave a little jump.

  He gave a low chuckle.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” she scolded him and bit her lip as she forced herself to move forward. Another wave broke, licking at her thighs. She clasped his hand. “Are there jellyfish?”

  “Probably not in May,” he said.

  “Probably,” she echoed.

  “I’ll pick you up and carry you back if you see one,” he offered.

  Emma didn’t know which prospect was worse—a jellyfish or being in Damien’s arms. “Thanks,” she muttered and inched forward. “Why do the waves seem to be getting bigger so quickly?”

  “High tide,” he said. “Do you want to go back?”

  “Not yet,” she said, refusing to give in to her fear. The last time she’d visited the ocean there’d been a strong undercurrent and she’d inhaled saltwater while she tried to determine which way was up. It wasn’t a pleasant memory and she wanted to replace it with a better one. She walked further and the bottom seemed to fall out. Slipping into water up to her chin, she automatically clutched at Damien, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “What—” she gasped “—happened?”

  “You’re okay,” he said, closing his strong arms around her. “We were on a sandbar and the bottom suddenly dipped. I’ve got you.”

  Surprisingly, the water was calmer. “Where did the waves go?” she asked.

  “We’re past them now,” he said. “This is where it gets nice and calm. Do you like it?”

  Taking in all the lovely sensations, she felt buoyant, yet protected. Her body had grown accustomed to the cooler temperature and she felt warm and safe against Damien’s strong chest. Her legs dangled in the water while he made sure their heads stayed above the ocean.

  She took a deep breath and something inside her eas
ed. His skin was smooth beneath her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. His chest glistened from the reflection of the sun.

  “We should probably go back towards shore,” she said, deferring to her logical, rational side.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Is that what you want?”

  He felt deliciously strong and the sensation of the water washing over them was sensual in a way she’d never experienced. “Not really,” she said, meeting his dark gaze. “It’s nice.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, sliding his hands over her back. “Were you scared?”

  “Nervous. It’s been awhile and the last time I took a good dunking.” She glanced out at the blue water, the sun making it sparkle like diamonds. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “Have you ever been on a yacht?”

  She shook her head. “No. Why?”

  “My brother lives down here. He owns a yacht business.”

  She smiled. “Rough life.”

  He laughed. “That’s what I say. Would you like to go for a ride?”

  Intimately aware of the fact that he stood between her thighs, her breasts just below his chin, she already felt as if she were on a ride, a very dangerous one. “It’s not part of our evaluation of the resort, is it?” she asked, but the idea of spending some time out on the water nearly made her drool.

  “No, but we don’t have to spend every minute evaluating the actual resort…”

  “I’d love to,” she said impulsively and hoped she wouldn’t regret it later.

  Nine

  After a delicious dinner in the hotel’s gourmet restaurant, Damien took Emma for a stroll down Lincoln Road to enjoy the night air and the outdoor mall. Emma had been a charming dinner companion, tasting and rating every dish. When she’d closed her eyes and licked her lips after sampling the chocolate cake, it had been all he could do not to carry her up to his room. “I’ve called my brother and he’s taking us out on one of his yachts tomorrow. But you can go shopping the day after tomorrow while I’m catching up on some of my work. Use my card.”

  “Oh, I keep forgetting about your card,” she said and abruptly stopped, her brown knee-length skirt swishing around her curvy legs. Her silk top emphasized her delicate shoulders and draped over her breasts. Damien was enjoying Emma’s South Beach dress far more than her conservative office attire. She pulled out his credit card and held it toward him. “I don’t need this anymore. Actually, I never did. I was able to find a few things on sale, so…”

  “You didn’t use my card?” he asked in disbelief.

  She gave an uncomfortable shrug. “No. It just didn’t seem—” She seemed to read his expression of disapproval. “I found bargains, so it wasn’t necessary.”

  “I told you to use my card,” he said, torn between dismay and anger. He’d never had a problem getting a woman to use his credit card for shopping before. “I knew you would need different clothing for this trip and it was appropriate for me to provide for that.”

  “I’ll wear it again,” she said.

  “When?” he asked.

  “Maybe on a date,” she said, lifting her shoulders and smiling. “Mallory’s determined to match me up with her friends.”

  Her reply irritated him. “So you’ll wear that black bikini on a blind date?”

  Her mouth opened and she paused before she closed it and bit her lip. “Well, maybe not, but I needed a new swimsuit anyway. Why is this such a problem? I was trying not to take inappropriate advantage.”

  Yet, she wouldn’t bat an eye before betraying him to her former bosses. “It’s insulting.”

  Her eyes widened. “I certainly didn’t mean it that way.” Her brow furrowed. “How could it be insulting?”

  “I offered to provide clothing for a mandatory business trip and you rejected it.”

  “I apologize. I didn’t look at it that way.” She took a quick breath. “This trip has been wonderful so far. I just appreciate being able to be in this amazing place with—” She broke off suddenly as if she didn’t want to finish the sentence. She didn’t want to be happy being with him.

  Another step closer, he realized with a sliver of satisfaction. He was making progress. Soon enough she would give him everything he wanted—her passion, and the information he needed to get De Luca. “Keep the card,” he said. “Maybe you’ll find something when you get a chance to go shopping. A souvenir.”

  After their walk, they returned to the hotel’s nightclub, which featured subdued lighting, white sheetlike drapes that extended from the high ceilings to the floor, couches and free-flowing martinis. A band played Cuban music, luring listeners onto the dance floor.

  “I know Vegas has some hot nightspots, but like most natives I don’t get out to them,” Emma said as she sipped her martini. She glanced around. “There’s something sybaritic about this place. How is your mojito?”

  “A little sweet. I prefer my drinks dry. How is your martini?”

  “Delicious and generous,” she said. “After my full day, I’m almost afraid to drink it.”

  “It would be a shame to waste it,” he said, looking at her mouth, wanting to taste it. The restless, irritable feeling inside him grew, but he tamped it down. “We should dance,” he said.

  “We should?” she echoed after taking another sip from her martini.

  “We have to make our charade believable,” he said and extended his hand. She followed him onto the dance floor and allowed him to pull her against his body.

  The music shifted to a rhythm-and-blues tune and Damien decided, for once, to enjoy the moment. For just this song, he would steep himself in the scent and sensation of her and seduce her just a little further. Damien knew that anticipation was half the game.

  He dipped his lips to her shoulder and glided them over her bare skin. She gave a delicate shiver, but didn’t pull away. In fact, she lifted her arms and looped them around the back of his neck. Gratifying, he thought.

  He slid his hand down to the small of her back and drew her intimately against him. Her breath caught, but still she didn’t move away.

  Every time she submitted to his physical approach, she bumped up his arousal another notch. He was already hard and allowed her to feel it.

  He wanted nothing more than to take her mouth with his, but he waited. It killed him, but he waited, instead caressing her smooth neck. She felt pliant and willing in his arms. He decided to go a little further and slid his thigh between hers.

  She gave a little whisper of a groan that intensified his arousal another degree. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he whispered against her ear.

  She sighed, arching against him as if she wanted to be closer.

  “If you want me to kiss you, lift your mouth,” he told her, his voice sounding gritty with desire to his own ears. He waited and the seconds beat inside his head like a low-pitched bell that vibrated through his body. One, two, three…

  She finally lifted her head, her eyes dark with need. “Kiss me,” she whispered, and he lowered his head.

  Her mouth felt like silk and satin and every sexy, soft thing he’d ever tasted. He lingered on her lips, savoring the sensation of her pliant mouth beneath his. Soon enough, though, it wasn’t enough and he slid his tongue between the seam of her lips to taste her.

  She gave a sexy little sigh, and allowed his entrance. She tasted sweet and forbidden. Her tongue wrapped around his, drawing him deeper. She may as well have been stroking him intimately for the effect she had on him. He couldn’t remember a woman making him this hot. He wanted to touch all of her at once. Sliding his hand up her rib cage, just brushing the side of her breast, he continued to take her mouth.

  She rubbed against him and he wanted to pull up her skirt so he could touch her sweetness. He wanted to drop his mouth to her breasts. Despite the fact that they were dancing in a darkened corner, he restrained himself.

  “I want to put my mouth all over you,” he muttered against her mouth. “I want to taste you. I want to make you so hot you can’t stand i
t and beg me for more. I want to slide deep inside you and fill you all the way.”

  She pressed her open mouth against his in sexual invitation. He kissed her once more, taking her mouth in only a fraction of the way he wanted to take her body. “There are beds with curtains by the pool. I could take you there.”

  “Oh,” she said, taking in a quick, sharp breath. She met his gaze, her eyes full of wanting. “I don’t know. It’s so—”

  “Decadent,” he said. “Primal.”

  “Yes.” She took another breath.

  “It’s up to you. I won’t force you. I’m going outside to one of those beds. I have protection,” he assured her. “We won’t go any further than you want to go.”

  She licked her lips and he couldn’t withhold a groan.

  Her eyes widened at the sound. “I can’t promise—”

  “No promises,” he said. “Just pleasure. I’ll wait there for fifteen minutes,” he said and pressed his mouth against hers before he walked away.

  She would join him. He was confident of it. He should be feeling more of a sense of triumph. Especially for the larger goal of getting information from her. Instead, though, what he wanted more than anything was to feel her arms and legs wrap around him while he plunged inside her with nothing between them but skin and pounding blood. Damn, if he could explain it, but he wanted her affection and devotion, too.

  Emma felt as if her brain had been scrambled. During the last three minutes, all her mental electrical circuits had fried to smithereens. “Come on, rational brain. Save me,” she muttered as she glanced in the direction of the deserted beds by the pool. The beds featured curtains that shielded against prying eyes.

  Damien Medici had just issued the wildest invitation she’d ever received in her life. Did she have the nerve to accept it? Perspiration dotted her forehead. Did she have the good sense and fortitude to turn him down or, if necessary, just run away to her suite upstairs?

  Emma took another sip of the martini, despite the fact that she knew it wouldn’t help clear her mind. Every fiber of her being craved Damien. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted him to make her moan. She wanted to make him groan.