The Tycoon's Secret - Baby for the Billionaire - Book Four (Baby for the Billionare)

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The Tycoon's Secret - Baby for the Billionaire - Book Four (Baby for the Billionare) Page 6

by Anne, Melody


  They landed safely, allowing Sierra to breathe a huge sigh of relief, and before she knew it, they were stepping off the jet. A warm breeze blowing against her skin was a welcome and surprising relief. It was the beginning of December, freezing back home, but here it was warm, sunny, and just about perfect.

  She hadn’t thought about the season’s being reversed. She was itching to explore the area, but she’d wait and take cues from Damien. She didn’t know if they were going to immediately get to work or not.

  “This way,” Damien said, placing his hand on the small of her back, leading her to an awaiting limo. The man sure liked his long cars. She found it humorous, but managed to somehow keep her laughter to herself.

  They quickly traveled from the airport and she drank in as much of the bustling city as she could through the tinted windows of the large car. Too soon they were pulling up to a stunning hotel.

  “Where are we?” she asked with awe. The seemingly endless building was stunning.

  Her father was a wealthy man, wealthier than most, but she hadn’t traveled the world with him, hadn’t gotten to experience the same privileges her sister had. It was a real treat to visit Australia and stay in such a luxurious hotel.

  “This is the Park Hyatt,” he answered her matter-of-factly. He seemed slightly bored. Sierra couldn’t imagine ever getting to a point in her life where coming to such a beautiful place would seem boring to her.

  A doorman was instantly at their car, holding the door open for them. Sierra took his hand as she stepped from the limo, her eyes wide as she looked up at the impressive entrance to the five-star-hotel.

  Damien joined her, then placing his hand on her back again, guided her inside. She looked around the incredible lobby, as she followed beside him. She didn’t hear his conversation with the staff, but soon they were riding in an elevator, and walking down a beautifully decorated hallway.

  The bellman assisting them slid his card through the key card slot in their door and they walked inside a massive suite with floor to ceiling windows seemingly everywhere. She walked over to them and looked down at a perfect view of the famous opera house. Maybe she’d be able to attend a show. Oh, how she hoped so!

  The room was spacious, with work areas, a kitchen, bar, luxury bathrooms, even a baby grand piano. She didn’t understand the need for such a large room for just the two of them, but she wasn’t going to complain.

  Within minutes of arriving, Damien told her to order what she’d like for food, and then he disappeared into the office, shutting the door behind him. She stood there, feeling out of sorts.

  Not knowing what else to do, Sierra ordered room service, then settled in on one of the comfortable couches to watch the huge screen television. She fell asleep not long after picking at her meal and setting it aside.

  Chapter Eight

  Sierra looked at the outside of the tall building and felt her stomach drop. What was she doing? She should just turn around and go back to their hotel suite. She had no business being there.

  She was tired of sitting in the interminable room. She loved the suite, especially the deep tub in the bathroom, and twenty-four hour room service. The room was stunning, beyond luxurious, and she’d taken advantage of just about every spa service the hotel offered, but still, she wanted to explore, not stay indoors.

  Damien had been gone constantly, telling her to wait for him, that he’d have work for her soon, but a week had passed and it was getting ridiculous. She was going to confront the man. He either needed to give her some work, let her act like a tourist, or else let her fly back home to the states.

  There was no way she wanted to go back to her father’s empty home. The longer she was away, the more sure she was of that fact. She wanted to go and visit Bree, maybe even take her best friend up on her offer of a place to stay until she got on her feet.

  The longer Sierra was around Damien, the more sure she was that his P.R. position was nothing more than a smoke screen. At least she was sure he didn’t want her as his mistress as he hadn’t made a single advance toward her since they’d arrived. She felt an odd pang at the thought.

  No, she urged herself. She didn’t want to be any man’s plaything. But still, Damien was just so virile, it was hard for her not to want to run her hands along his incredible form. Only a blind woman could miss his flawless body, but loss of sight wouldn’t be enough to keep lust away in his presence.

  No, even the sound of his voice, rich, deep and so dang masculine could melt a girl, turning her into a puddle at his feet. She was in trouble and she certainly didn’t want to feel that way. She’d felt too many negative emotions her entire life. She felt like it was her time to grow, live – really experience life to the fullest. She’d been a prisoner her entire life, and now she looked at her future in a whole different way. It was a feeling of true liberation, unlike anything else, and it was far overdue for her to spread her wings and fly.

  With a lot of finagling, and bribery, Sierra had finally managed to figure out where Damien was on this particular day. She was now standing in front of the building he was inside and she found herself terrified of walking in the huge double doors and confronting him.

  Dang it, though, if he wasn’t going to have her doing a job, then he should at least have the decency to let her fly home. If he didn’t say anything, her father wouldn’t even know she was back in the States, and that would give her more time to build up her courage, find the will to stop fearing him.

  Damien was at some sort of guy spa or gym. Heck, she didn’t know, but it had been like pulling teeth to get the information out of the hotel staff. Finally, one of the desk operators had taken pity on her and disclosed his location.

  He’d warned her it wouldn’t be easy to get in and see Damien. He’d also made her promise not to tell where she’d gotten the information. Every time she called Damien, it went immediately to voicemail, so she was out of options. It was either this or, well, she didn’t really have an ‘or’ in mind.

  She looked at the security cameras lined up along the roof eaves, and the solid glass doors in front of her. She was waiting for the national guard to come storming out and haul her away, somehow knowing she didn’t belong there, even though technically, she did have a lot of her own money.

  The money didn’t do her any good, though, when she wasn’t allowed to touch it. Maybe she should’ve dressed a bit better, at least. She’d just thrown on a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt. She hadn’t seen the point in wearing business attire. She hadn’t been doing any business.

  With a final breath of courage she approached the doors and stepped inside. Her intake of air was quickly let out as she glanced around the ostentatious spa. There were several well-outfitted men sauntering the premises, a couple of them glancing in her direction as they moved about, but what really caught her attention were the furnishings.

  A beautiful fountain sat centered in the lobby with cushioned benches surrounding it. The floor was done in a marble tile, patterned with small animals throughout it. Huge plants were strategically placed, making a person feel as if they’d just walked into an exclusive hotel.

  Though she’d been raised in a life of wealth, her father hadn’t let her go anywhere he didn’t specifically plan out. While most of the kids she’d gone to school with had been going to spas from the time they could barely walk, she was lucky to have a person come to the house to trim her hair.

  Her father had told her when she was young that it was because he was protecting her, but the older she became, the more she realized it was really to protect himself. The more he kept her home, the more control he had over her, and the less likely she was to spill his secrets.

  She’d only been allowed in the public eye with dates he’d set up, and she’d only been allowed out when he deemed it necessary. As she looked around the room, anger burned inside her over what she’d missed out on.

  No wonder the girls from school had glowed after a spa weekend. It was the ultimate in opulence. Her
week of indulgence had shown her she deserved to have a few luxuries in life. She’d gone through enough that she shouldn’t feel the least guilt over taking a day each month to pamper herself.

  Sierra shook off her melancholy thoughts, and reminded herself to focus. If she could go back home and visit Bree, she’d have the elbowroom she needed. Bree loved a day at the spa. Sierra now wished she’d actually gone with her friend when she’d had the chance. She’d wasted her small time of free rein when she’d been in college, her fear of her father carrying too much weight, even from a distance.

  Sierra glanced at the front desk where immaculately dressed men and women stood watching her approach. One of the women managed to actually tilt her nose in the air while still looking down it at Sierra. She didn’t care what the snobby woman thought. She was comfortable with what she was wearing, even if the bleached blonde didn’t approve.

  “Are you lost?” one of the fake-and-bake guys asked her when she stood there gaping at them. If Ken and Barbie were to come to life, this is what they’d look like, she thought in fascination.

  “No, actually. My boss is here and I need to speak with him,” Sierra said, happy with the confidence echoing in her tone. She didn’t feel all that confident, but she was used to faking her emotions to create her desired effect.

  “Sorry, darling. We have a ‘do not disturb’ policy that’s strictly in effect. If your boss wanted to see you, then he’d have left you with a number. Even employers need time to themselves,” one of the girls said, as if Sierra were nothing more than an annoyance in her otherwise perfect day.

  “Thank you for visiting our spa. Now, please exit the way you came in. Have a wonderful day,” Mr. Ken doll said before turning his back and continuing his conversation with another employee.

  Sierra felt like steam was coming out of her ears. She was normally calm, almost submissive, but she’d had enough. Her dad walked all over her, her sister treated her like she was there to serve her, Damien acted like she didn’t exist, and now real life Barbie dolls were dismissing her. She was done.

  Squaring her shoulders, Sierra stepped closer to the desk and slapped her hand down on the polished surface, making one of the girls jump. The four employees standing there slowly turned with eyes of astonishment, as if no one ever challenged them behind the desk.

  “Look. I’m tired, not thrilled about having to be here, and getting more irritated by the minute. Why don’t you stop acting like there’s a stick shoved up your ass, and make yourself useful by doing your job. I need to speak with Damien Whitfield immediately. It’s urgent,” Sierra said, taking time to look each person in the eye.

  She felt a stirring of pride as she watched the shock enter their faces at the authority in her tone. For being a door-mouse for too many years, she was sure making up for lost time. She had to fight back the smile wanting to break free at the surge of adrenaline rushing through her.

  Barbie doll number two was the first to break eye contact as she took a step back, then whispered something to one of the guys, who then turned slightly toward her so they could have a quiet discussion.

  “Could you tell us what this is about?” the guy asked when they were finished.

  “It’s none of your business, but I will tell you this. Mr. Whitfield doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Sierra really hoped Damien didn’t tell them to throw her out on her butt, making her look like a complete fool. If he did, she was done, fear of her father, or no fear. She was tired of being humiliated. It had to stop at some point.

  “Fine, I’ll go speak to Mr. Whitfield personally, and tell him he has a… guest out front. Please go sit over there,” Barbie number one finally said before pointing at benches off in the corner, out of view of the front doors.

  Sierra fought back a smile as she turned and walked to the benches. So this is what it feels like to win a small victory, she thought. They obviously couldn’t have someone looking so raggedy out in the public view. What would their rich clients think about that?

  Sierra took a seat and picked up one of the magazines lying on the table. She started flipping through pages, glancing at the latest fashions. She’d never really cared, not even being allowed to pick out the majority of her clothes. Her father had felt he was far more qualified to choose for her.

  Sierra hadn’t really thought to argue with him about it until later in life, then she’d been too afraid. Her sister had never had the same issues with their dad. He’d spoiled Sandy, giving her whatever she wanted.

  She’d been one of the girls going to the spas with girlfriends, and getting new clothes practically every other month. She’d been daddy’s little girl, while Sierra had been daddy’s whipping post. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

  How dare he do that to her! With growing confidence and rage, a shiver of alarm still traveled down her spine. What if she was sent back to him? What if her dad somehow was able to hide her away? She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t. She’d rather die.

  She remembered the day he told her why he wouldn’t let her leave, why she had to pay him back for her mother’s sins. It had been a dark and terrible day.

  Apparently, her mother had been extremely unhappy during their marriage, telling Douglas she was going to leave him. She found out a few weeks later she was pregnant. Instead of being elated of her pregnancy, he’d been jealous, claiming she must’ve had an affair. They fought about her, her mother swearing she’d been faithful, and Douglas insisting she’d cheated.

  It hadn’t helped that Sierra looked like her mother, while a few years later Sandy had been almost a twin of their father. It seemed Sandy’s birth confirmed his suspicions that Sierra wasn’t his. He’d been humiliated; not wanting anyone to know his wife would dare cheat on him.

  Her father had felt it almost a duty to sleep with as many women as possible, throwing it in their mother’s face. He’d told her she could leave, but he’d never allow her to take the girls with her. She’d vowed to the end that Sierra was his child, but Sierra figured death had been a welcome relief out of the hell her mother’s life had become.

  With how much her father hated her, Sierra figured he’d be happy to have her leave, but instead of pushing her out, it had become his life’s obsession to make her pay for what he deemed as her mother’s infidelity, so instead of kicking her out of his home, he’d refused to let her leave - refused until Damien Whitfield had shown up.

  Now that Sierra had a glimpse of freedom, there was no going back. She refused to allow Douglas Monroe any further power over her. With new resolve, she waited for Damien. It was time to let him know she wasn’t going to take being anyone’s whipping post ever again. She refused to allow the man to try and bring her down with his cold stares, and ridiculous requests.

  Sierra heard a movement and turned to find Damien standing before her. Her mouth gaped open in shock. He was wearing a low slung towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his rock solid chest and six-pack abs. She couldn’t even manage to bring her eyes past his incredible athletic build to see the expression on his face.

  She was sure the man was irritated about obviously being interrupted, and she knew she should meet his gaze, but instead she continued to stare with utter reverence and awe at the work of art before her.

  She heard him clear his throat, and it was just what her brain needed to become un-frozen. Quickly closing her mouth, she drew her eyes up the additional eight or so inches to meet his eyes. She was right, he wasn’t happy.

  “Is something wrong? An employee told me you were demanding to see me, refusing to leave,” Damien said as his eyes looked over her. “You don’t seem unwell,” he finished accusingly.

  Sierra frantically searched for her voice, coming up with nothing. Damien Whitfield was extremely attractive on a normal day, but with water dripping off him, and his hair tousled, he was downright devastating. She felt instant desire heating her stomach, the sensation foreign, but not altogether unwelcome.
She curled her toes, trying to pull herself together.

  Before this moment, Sierra really had thought she may be broken from all the years of abuse. She’d never felt desire toward a man, not even her ex-boyfriend, never wanted to reach up and run her tongue down a guy’s glistening chest, like all her college friends would brag of doing. She found herself wanting to taste his hardened nipples, test them, see if they were salty or sweet. Sweat broke out on her forehead and she still hadn’t said a word, stretching the awkward silence beyond the point of no return.

  “Sierra!”

  “What? You don’t have to shout,” she finally whispered, her voice sounding far too husky, even to her own ears.

  “Obviously I do need to shout, as it seems you’ve lost the ability to speak. From what Kendra was saying, you were speaking just fine earlier,” he snapped.

  “Oh,” she replied, forgetting why she’d even come to the spa.

  “Look, Sierra. I don’t have time to stand here and play guessing games. You can either tell me what you need, or I can turn around and head back in. I work hard, and when I get five minutes to work-out, I like to do so uninterrupted. That’s already been ruined for the day, so I’d at least like to get back to my swim.”

  “I want to leave,” she said, her voice a bit stronger.

  “Then leave. I didn’t ask you to come here,” he said in exasperation as if the matter was settled.

  “I didn’t ask to be here,” Sierra snapped, jumping to her feet and pushing her fingernail into his chest to make a point. “I’m sitting around all day and night, doing nothing but twiddling my thumbs while you’re out having the time of your life. Fine. I really don’t care what the heck you do, but I do care about my time, and it’s being wasted in that hotel. I want to go home, now,” she demanded.

 

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