by Lisa Swann
“It’s getting late, you shouldn’t be late for your 11am class (wow, he had asked for my schedule at the university?) Get dressed, I had your clothes brought back up. Meet me downstairs in the lounge by the concierge’s desk, we’ll have breakfast.”
I didn’t have the time to say thanks before he disappeared. How could he be so present, so close one moment and then become so distant the next moment? He blew hot and cold at the same time, I didn’t know what to be prepared for. Moreover, I couldn’t predict any of his reactions. Everything about him was a surprise, amazing, something new. What a person, what a personality, what a peculiar man! Everything that I felt was so extreme that I couldn’t analyse it. I was under his charm, that was for sure. He was attentive, cultivated, funny, interesting, handsome (as a God), rich (okay, that was just an accessory though)…and what a huge penis! He had made me feel more sensations in two days than all of my little boyfriends and erotic dreams combined. However, something inside of me, something imperceptible, wasn’t completely comfortable with this. I could see a few red flags, that I hurried to get rid of. He was going to take a plane back to New York. That was a pretty big red flag, right? I immediately banished the idea of him leaving from my head. We weren’t there yet. He was here, in flesh and blood, and was waiting for me at breakfast.
They’d brought up my clothes? Obviously, he had thought of everything, once again! I couldn’t wear the sheath dress to school.
I went into the empty parlour and picked up the clothes laid out on an armchair: a pair of jeans, a women’s undershirt, an opal green angora sweater, satin underwear. I didn’t even think about where he had found these or where he had gone to get them. It wasn’t worth thinking about. And besides, I didn’t really care. I touched the sweater, it was extremely soft, the knickers and bra were just the right type of undergarments – not too sexy, but not too frumpy either!
But there were no shoes, I noticed while getting dressed. Hey, this isn’t like him! I put on my pumps from the night before and left the suite with a shaky step.
I soon found the room where breakfast was being served. There were servers bustling about everywhere! It was a ballet of coffee pots, teapots and coloured plates. However, only a dozen of the tables were occupied. I immediately found Sacha – my Sacha – at the back of the room. His back was turned to everyone as he read the newspaper.
I came towards him and twisted my ankle while walking to the table! I caught myself on the back of his chair.
“Ooops, these heels really aren’t for me!” I said, giggling and sliding into my seat.
“I like women wearing heels, they shouldn’t be allowed to walk with anything else on their feet,” he said, without even lifting his eyes from the newspaper.
Why was he suddenly so cold? He seemed to be annoyed. He wanted heels, he was going to have heels, if that was the only thing that was going to make him happy. I shrugged my shoulders. A server came with a cup of tea for me. Why didn’t he offer me any coffee? A mystery. Another blow from Mr. Sacha, the crazy man who organises everything in his path. I took a piece of toast as if nothing was wrong and started to spread butter on it, then, to let him know that his attitude was rather impolite, I asked him:
“So what’s the news this morning? Anything good? The stock exchange? The weather? Your horoscope?”
He raised his head, amused. He didn’t seem at all vexed.
“That green looks really good on you, you’re very beautiful.”
“Thanks! And thank you for the clothes. I’ll give them back to you, that goes without saying.”
Again he seemed to have darkened. He took a sip of coffee than plunged his jade eyes into mine. Uh-oh, he looked serious.
“Elisabeth,” oh no, he wasn’t calling me Liz – that wasn’t a good sign. “I leave for New York tomorrow, you know.” (Oh great, that was expected, right? It was too good to last. I suppose he’s going to start with his fumbling excuses: it was great, but it’s not going to work out, better that we leave it here, blah blah blah…)
I nervously stirred my tea. What an idiot I was. Prince charming! No, but that’s what I had believed. I wasn’t anything more than a one-night stand. A docile little Parisian woman, you take her out for a nice evening and voila, she’s on her back! I tried to seem as dignified as possible but I had a terrible urge to just pick up myself and go. I really didn’t want to hear what this guy had to say to me after he’d just taken advantage of me. He’d dazzled me so it’d be easier to get me in bed.
“Elisabeth? Liz? You didn’t put any sugar in your tea, stop stirring it like that.”
“Sorry, you were saying?” My falsely detached attitude didn’t seem very convincing.
“I know that this may seem despicable, but I promise you, I didn’t plan anything (yeah right, sure…). I like you a lot, a lot (he emphasised this word). You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny (send in the violins) but – (oh great, the but, it was going to come sooner or later) I’m not the type for you! I’m not a good guy, you know (that’s for me to judge, thank you very much). I would hurt you (as if you’re not hurting me now). You deserve better than me, Elisabeth (now he was whispering), look at me, tell me that I’m an asshole, if that makes you feel better. Tell me something or I’ll fuck you right now on this table!” He almost shouted the last sentence, everyone around us had turned to look at us.
I leapt up.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Goodman, I really enjoyed your company. Unfortunately I don’t think that we’ll be meeting again, so I’d like to wish you lots of luck with Goodman & Brown.”
With a shaky step I headed towards the exit and tripped over the step. But what did it matter, at least he didn’t see my face. I was crying tears of rage.
I went directly home, incapable of going to school, of seeing Jess, of paying attention in class. I cried all afternoon in my bed, then fell asleep, exhausted. When I woke up in the early evening, Maddie was there. She didn’t ask me anything, not where I had spent the night, nor why I was crying. She’d had a sufficiently exciting love life to understand everything without any explanations. She ran me a bath, prepared some tea for me and we listened to the Nutcracker over and over all night long.
My heart was broken but I still had enough of my dignity left to go out and face the world. I put on my best face during the next few days, at school as well as at Courcelles Investments, and resumed the regular rhythm of my (sad) life. During the nights, however, the handsome face of Sacha Goodman came back to haunt me. Sometimes I’d throw rocks at him, sometimes I’d throw my body at him.
The week after that disastrous breakfast, Mr. Dufresne asked to see me. Finally, my day had come! Maybe he was going to offer me a position? I knocked and entered his huge, entirely marble office decorated in the Louis Philippe style. He asked me to have a seat and said bluntly:
“Elisabeth, my dear, negotiations with the Goodman & Brown firm are leading to a merger that will no doubt be fruitful for Courcelles Investments. I need to go to New York to spell out the last few points of our agreement. I know that you’re just an intern – for the moment”, he added, “but for some reason that I can’t figure out Sacha Goodman insists that you come with me. Pack your bags, we’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”
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Rocked by a Billionaire – Vol. 2
Liz is in New York with Sacha and the rest of the Courcelles Investissements team, and her relationship with the handsome multi-millionaire is increasingly volatile. Although he showers her with presents, each one more chic and expensive than the last, he remains as inaccessible as ever. As she goes from confidence to confidence, will she manage to discover the hidden truths behind this incredibly irresistible man?
Table of Contents
Cover
1. An ordinary girl
2. An (extra)ordinary encounter
3. Not an ordinary man
Lisa Swann, Rocked by a Billionaire – Vol. 1