ALL THAT HE REQUIRES
The Billionaire’s Seduction
Part 4
Olivia Thorne
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ALL THAT HE REQUIRES
The Billionaire’s Seduction
Part 4
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Afterword
1
I realize you probably know all this already, but let’s set the stage first. Because, hey, I might sound a little crazy soon if you don’t know where I’m coming from.
Number one: I’d had my heart broken the night before.
The man I’d fallen in love with had basically let me know we weren’t on the same page as far as what we wanted, relationship-wise. After he’d offered me money to continue sleeping with him for another week.
Ew.
Yeah, yeah, he was a billionaire… and yeah, yeah, I’d only known him three days… and yeah, yeah, the ‘relationship’ (or whatever you want to call it) had essentially started with crazy-hot sex on the boardroom floor of the company where I worked.
Still – ew.
I said ‘no,’ and he walked out, more or less.
It hurt worse than anything in my life ever has before.
Number two: because of my heart being broken, I hadn’t slept all night. I was the emotional equivalent of a zombie on The Walking Dead. But not a mean zombie that wants to eat your brains, just a weepy zombie that stumbles around on the verge of tears and needs a hug.
Yes, I’m a nerd.
Number three: I had been dreading losing my job for twelve hours. Actually, I had feared that possibility since last Friday night, but the crazy-hot sex and falling-in-love part had distracted me for most of the weekend.
Which made me a zombie on the verge of tears, who needs a hug, and is deathly afraid of the scary human chasing me with a shotgun. (The ‘scary human’ in question being my jerk of a boss.)
Number four: the shotgun went off.
I had just lost my job.
Actually, that’s kind of soft-peddling the situation. Makes me sound like I was the victim of a corporate layoff or The Great Recession.
To be technical about it… I’d been fired. Partially for insubordination, but mostly because my boss was a raging asshole.
Immediately after that, I informed Asshole Boss he couldn’t fire me, because I quit.
Number five: with my car towed by Asshole Boss, and my life in ruins around me, Man Of My Dreams came driving up like Prince Charming in a Cinderella coach. Except, in this case, it was a Lamborghini. And then he proceeded to give me a breathtakingly romantic speech about how he knew he’d messed up big-time, and that he was sorry, and I could walk away and never look back, but to please give him one more chance – and that I was what he wanted more than anything else in his entire life.
So, with my heart still broken – but temporarily back on life-support – I got in the car.
I’m still not entirely sure if that was a mistake or not.
But some mistakes are worth making.
2
The Lamborghini roared through the parking deck outside my former workplace.
I’d never been in a Lamborghini before. I might have enjoyed the experience more if it didn’t feel like somebody had put my brain in a blender and hit frappé.
I settled back wearily into the leather seat and lolled my head towards the driver.
Connor Templeton.
Gorgeous Adonis.
Billionaire businessman.
Scion of one of the wealthiest families in America.
“You’re a real asshole sometimes,” I murmured.
He gave a tight little smile. Not one of his usual cocky grins; more like grim agreement.
“Yeah, I know,” he said in a low voice.
He reached one arm across the center console of the car and took my hand in his.
The warmth of his skin on mine melted the tension in my body.
The sweetness of the gesture melted my heart.
I couldn’t help myself: I broke down in tears.
Funny… after the last few hours, I didn’t think I had any left.
He slammed on the brakes, pulled off his sunglasses, and stared at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”
I fought back the sobs. “I – I thought I was n-never going to see you again.”
He leaned across the seat, took my tear-streaked face in both his hands, and kissed me.
Softly.
Sweetly.
Romantically.
Then he pulled back just a few inches and wiped my tears away with his thumbs as he gazed into my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I nodded silently. Smiled sadly.
He leaned forward and kissed me again.
Behind us, a car beeped its horn.
I pulled away. “We should go.”
“He can wait – I’m busy right now,” Connor whispered, and pulled me back to him.
I think the car drove around us, honking angrily.
I’m not sure; I was lost in the kiss, and the rest of the world just faded away.
3
After three or four cars honked and passed us, though, the world started to come back into focus.
I finally broke things off with a laugh. “Come on… let’s go.”
“Alright,” he grinned, then put back on his sunglasses and started down the ramp again.
I can’t begin to tell you how overjoyed and relieved I was.
Or how much I still ached. My soul felt bruised from all I had been through.
But I could deal with that, as long as I got to stay there with him.
I lay there in the leather seat, almost half-asleep, watching him. He was absolutely gorgeous. Dark, wavy hair… bronzed skin… strong jaw… masculine nose… sinfully kissable lips…
“You look different,” I mumbled.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… but I can’t put my finger on it…”
“Maybe it’s ‘caus
e I’m worn out.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“‘Why’?!” he repeated with an incredulous chuckle. “Well, for starters, I slept maybe two hours last night.”
I perked up slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“…why?”
It was a stupid question.
But I wanted to hear his answer.
I needed to hear his answer.
He looked at me like I was insane. “‘Why’? Because last night sucked, that’s why. You were there, you should know.”
I wanted to cry… but this time it was from happiness.
I know that sounds crazy – but I’d thought he’d been okay after breaking up with me. A little sad, maybe. But unable to sleep? That possibility hadn’t crossed my mind.
I DID mean a lot to him, I thought.
I know that sounds crazy, too. I mean, the guy had just given me a huge speech about how much he wanted me, how badly he’d screwed up, and please please PLEASE get in the car. You’d think I would have realized that, hey, maybe he kinda sorta liked me.
But remember who we’re talking about here: weepy, sleep-deprived, need-a-hug zombie.
I settled back into my seat, but I reached out and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you didn’t sleep…”
He slowed down and looked over at me. “Thank you.”
“…but you kind of deserved it.”
I gave him the look my best friend Anh reserves for when I complain about gaining weight after finishing a pint of Haagen Dazs. It’s what a basset hound might look like if it could say, I feel sorry for you, even though we both know you’re a complete idiot.
He stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing.
“I guess I did,” he grinned as he turned back to driving down the ramp.
“But it’s not that you’re tired,” I said. “It’s something else…”
“Hold on,” he said, and rolled down his window so he could hand a ticket and a $20 bill to the toll booth attendant.
I looked at his immaculate pinstripe suit, followed the length of his arm down to the strong, powerful hand gripping the steering wheel –
“That’s it,” I realized.
“Thank you,” Connor said to the attendant, then turned back to me as he drove the car under the rising tollbooth arm. “What’s it?”
“I’ve never seen you drive anything before.”
“Oh – yeah, I suppose that’s – ”
“OH MY GOD!” I shrieked.
“What?!” Connor shouted as he slammed on the brakes.
“Where’s Johnny?!”
Connor leaned his head back in his seat, both relief and exasperation on his face. “Don’t do that – ”
“Where’s Johnny?” I repeated.
“You almost gave me a heart attack – ”
“Where’s Johnny?” I insisted.
“Why are you so worked up about Johnny?”
“Because he’s your bodyguard! It’s not safe for you to be wandering around without him!”
Connor sighed and edged out into the downtown Los Angeles traffic. “You’re as bad as he is, you know that?”
“Maybe because we’re worried about your safety. Even if you aren’t.”
“Well, you should be happy I ditched him.”
“You DITCHED him?!”
“Calm down – ”
“I’m not going to calm down!” I shouted. “That guy at the hotel threatened you – ”
“It wasn’t much of a threat,” Connor pooh-poohed me.
“You weren’t there! And now you go and ditch Johnny, like – like an idiot!”
“I had to.”
“Oh, you had to – and why was that, exactly?”
Connor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t want him to be there if you said ‘no.’”
That stopped me dead in my tracks.
Connor always acted like everything was a game, and one he would win no matter what – by fair means, by bluffing, or by cheating. Whatever it took.
I had assumed that speech back there in the parking deck was just another ‘winning moment’ for him. That he’d figured out how to get me back. Just say the right things – beautifully, passionately, movingly – and boom, Lily comes running!
But in that one sentence… I didn’t want him to be there if you said ‘no’… he let me see that, no, actually, he hadn’t known he was going to win me back.
And it had scared him.
Enough that he didn’t want to risk having his friend see him get hurt.
I suppose I could be cynical and say it was just him protecting his ego… but Connor had the healthiest ego of any human being I’d ever met. I don’t think he would have cared if Johnny saw him get burned by a dozen supermodels in a row (though I doubt that scenario was even remotely possible).
I think he was actually scared.
And my heart broke a little for him because of it.
I was silent for a few seconds, and then I brushed the back of my hand softly against his cheek.
He smiled, took my fingers, and kissed the palm of my hand.
I stayed silent a few seconds more, just savoring the realization of how much he cared… and that he hadn’t taken winning me back for granted.
Then, of course, I got back to business.
“You have to call Johnny.”
He sighed. “I’m planning on it.”
“Is he going to drive us to Vegas?”
“No, I am.”
“You’ve only had a couple hours of sleep!”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine – ”
“I’ve been up 72 hours before during a touch-and-go acquisition, closed it successfully, and finished with an off-the-cuff investment presentation in front of 300 of the wealthiest people in the world. I thrive on stressful situations.”
“Well, whoop-de-doo for you, but I’m here now and the buyout thing’s off, so there’s no more stress. So I doubt you’re thriving anymore.”
“No, right now I’m deliriously happy and hopped up on adrenaline.”
I gave him a wry smile. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”
He grinned. “It’s what I’m good at.”
“But promise me… when you come down off your ‘deliriously happy’ cloud of hopped-up adrenaline, we’ll stop and you’ll get in the limo and let Johnny drive us to Vegas.”
“I promise.” He took my hand and kissed it again. “I got you back… I’m not going to do anything to endanger that again.”
“Awwwww… but I don’t want you endangering yourself, either, so call Johnny.”
Connor sighed and slipped his cell phone out of his suit jacket pocket. “Yes, dear.”
4
Johnny was piiiiiissed.
I couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but whatever it was, he said it loudly enough for Connor to make a face and hold the cell phone away from his ear.
It sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher’s wah-wah-wah-WAAAH crossed with a fire-and-brimstone preacher.
Connor let him vent for a few seconds, then said, “I’m getting on 10 East… you can find me, I’ll be the maroon Lamborghini Aventador.”
More wah-wah-wah-WAAAAH.
“Yes, fine, okay, I’ll drive under the speed limit so you can get to me… jeez, man, I don’t know who’s worse, you or Lily.”
Things quieted down on the other end as Johnny asked something in a lower tone of voice.
Connor smiled. “Because she’s with me.”
Silence. Then Johnny said something else, and Connor pulled the cell away from his ear and hit a button for speakerphone.
“Lily?”
I smiled. “Hi, Johnny.”
“You made him call me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. At least SOMEBODY’S brain is working right.”
“Hey,” Connor warned.
“Where’d you get the car?”
“I called Frank D’Agostanzo.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Owns an exotic car dealership in Beverly Hills,” Connor explained. “He gave me a loaner.”
I looked around, stupefied. “This is a loaner?”
“With an option to buy.”
“Wait…” I said as I struggled to do the calculations. “You would’ve had to have called him at, like, six in the morning or something.”
“I’m a regular client.”
“Oh, well, that explains it,” I muttered sarcastically.
“Why can’t you be like normal rich people and just FLY to Vegas in a private jet, huh?” Johnny asked.
If I hadn’t been virtually brain-dead from sleep deprivation – and if I actually had the kind of lifestyle where ‘private jet’ and ‘Vegas’ could appear in the same sentence while referring to me – I might have thought of that earlier.
“Yeah!” I agreed.
“I want to drive,” Connor said. “I need to clear my mind.”
“You’re going to clear your mind completely when you nod off, flip the car, and shear off the top of your skull.”
“Ew,” I winced.
“Little much, don’t you think?” Connor asked.
“No. Lily, don’t let him be stupid, okay?”
“Too late,” I teased.
“True.”
“Et tu, Brute?” Connor scowled at me.
“But if he gets tired, you make him stop and let me take over, you hear me?”
“He already promised me.”
“Alright.” There was a pause. “Lily?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s good to talk to you again.”
I smiled. “You too, Johnny.”
“I’ll see you guys soon. And Connor, I SWEAR TO GOD, if you go one MILE over the speed limit, or start feeling sleepy and don’t pull over – ”
4 The Billionaire's Seduction All That He Requires Page 1