Bad Billionaires Box Set

by Elise Faber

  Nope.

  Standing on the opposite side of the pane of wood was none other than Colin McGregor.

  And she, Cecilia Thiele, idiot of all idiots, lost her grip on her towel.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Colin

  Colin’s eyes bugged out of his head for a second, his gaze traveling every inch of CeCe’s lush body— gently swaying breasts, narrow hips, flat stomach . . . flaming red curls.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Then he blinked and realized that any person walking by Cecilia’s cabin would be able to see that gorgeous body.

  The body that should be for his eyes only.

  Yes, he was an arrogant asshole. Yes, he knew that Cecilia was a woman and it was technically her body first and foremost.

  But fuck if Colin wanted another lecherous prick to lay eyes on her.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice sounding as though he’d swallowed a bloody flamethrower. He’d called in a favor to an acquaintance that specialized in hacking to find out CeCe’s cabin number, had been all the more thankful for that small victory when he’d driven onto the huge property belonging to the resort.

  In the meantime, Cecilia was still frozen in shock, her mouth gaping in a way that made him want to kiss her senseless, so he picked up the towel, wrapped it around her and pushed her gently backward.

  Her feet moved without protest, allowing him to step forward into the room. She didn’t do anything without protest, so Colin knew she was thrown completely for a loop. She didn’t speak a word when he closed the door behind him, didn’t say anything when he brushed by her to set his bag near the closet. Hell, she didn’t even comment when he set the bag of takeaway he’d grabbed from the restaurant on the counter of the little kitchenette tucked away in one corner of the cabin.

  In fact, the only thing that seemed to startle her out of her stupor was him dropping his pants to the floor.

  “Col—” she began but gasped when his underwear joined the pile.

  His socks were next, stuffed into the boots Joanne had sent along with a suitcase of warm clothes, followed by his jacket and shirt.

  And then he walked toward Cecilia, wanting nothing more than to strip the towel from her hands before tossing her onto the bed and making love to her under the darkening sky.

  But she’d been in the middle of something when he’d knocked.

  Colin intended that she finish it, and was fully committed to naked reciprocity.

  He’d seen hers, it was only fair she saw his.

  Okay, that wasn’t the only reason.

  He worked out a lot and knew his body was in shape. If seeing him parade around naked somehow convinced CeCe to transform into one of those crazed women at a Magic Mike show, then he was all for it.

  Yes, he was well aware he was a fool, but a man had to be cognizant of his shortcomings.

  A narrow hall opened into a bathroom, but the water wasn’t running and the telltale humidity of an interrupted shower was absent. He closed the door behind him and opened the next, feeling the gust of heat spread over his skin on a rush.

  A sauna. Of course.

  When in Finland.

  “What are—?” Cecilia began from behind his left shoulder, but she didn’t get to finish the question because he merely wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her toward the open door.

  “Let’s finish your sauna,” he said, sitting on the bench. “It was rude of me to interrupt.”

  “As if you give a damn about interrupt—”

  He ladled a spoonful of water onto the heated rocks, cutting off what would no doubt have been a scathing remark about his insensitivity.

  “Colin!” she exclaimed over the hissing stones and steam filling the air.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, exasperated. “You’re still the same.”

  “No.” He placed his hand over hers, leaning close to stare into her eyes. He needed her to see, needed her to understand that this was their chance at a fresh start, and that he wasn’t the same moronic asshole from their past. “I’m not, sweetheart. I’ve changed. For the better. My family doesn’t control me, not any longer.” Her fingers pulsed beneath his, startled. “I don’t know what happened with them, what they did to you. But I should have known better than to believe them when they said you ran off with Ewan. You’re kind, CeCe. Honest, compassionate. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

  Colin’s chest was heaving, and his palms were damp . . . and not from the heat of the sauna.

  He had to make her understand. He—

  “No,” she said. “I didn’t run off with Ewan.” She slipped her hand free of his, pressed it firmly to her chest, just above the towel she still wore. “But I did leave with him. It’s only . . .” She hesitated, and then sighed deeply. “Ewan gave me an escape route after you shattered my heart into a million pieces.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cecilia

  “Why are you here now? After all this time?” Cecilia asked into the silence that descended in the wake of her admission. Her heartbreak had come as a shock, based on Colin’s expression of pure horror.

  “I—” He stood, closed the door to the sauna, and sat back down next to her, naked except for a small hand towel tossed haphazardly over his . . .

  Penis, Cecilia Thiele, her mind shouted. It’s his penis, and it’s giant and glorious and you want to lick it like a lollipop!

  She tore her eyes up and focused on his face, but then got sidetracked by the little scar above his lip and then by his lips themselves. They were yummy and lush and just so flipping kissable. Seriously, the world wasn’t fair. What kind of universe gave a man a mouth like that?

  And then he had to go and talk.

  To be sweet and keep his words both simple and heart-wrenching.

  “Because, sweetheart, I couldn’t stay away.”

  “Dammit,” she muttered, glancing up at the ceiling, studying the single bulb hanging from the paneled wood. Condensation had gathered on the glass, and the drops sparkled as the light shone through.

  The effect was beautiful, even though it was slightly blurry through the lens of her tears.

  It was just that he sounded so genuine, and she wanted nothing more than to believe that he wanted her. But how could she?

  But . . . maybe he did?

  No. People didn’t change, not truly, not deep down, and he might want her now, but that would inevitably change, and then he would push her away, and she would end up broken all over again.

  She couldn’t end up broken again.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do this, Colin. I can’t hurt this much and have all this regret and pain and angst. My life is supposed to finally be about me. I need to find out who I am without my job and the remains of our relationship hanging over me. Without my parents’ disappointment weighing me down. I need to—”

  “I understand.” He took her hand in his. “I get not knowing who you are and your world imploding. I understand that you were hurt, and I’m sorry that—”

  Sweat trickled down between her breasts when she shot to her feet. “No, you don’t understand because you weren’t the one left shattered. You weren’t the one who was devastated when all you’d hoped for a future was fucking gone.”

  He stood and cracked the door, reaching for a robe and handing it to her then repeating the process for himself.

  When they were both covered, he touched her cheek. “You weren’t the only one devastated, CeCe. My father was dead, the business was one wrong decision away from collapse, and you were gone.” His voice tightened. “You can’t say I was unaffected because I was. My life was fucking broken, too.”

  Her breath caught as the truth of his words hit home. “I-I’m sorry.”

  Silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Colin’s blue eyes were filled with emotion and longing, and she felt an answering yearning rise within her.

  She wanted those easy times
. The hikes on the cliffs, the rides on his horse, the kissing, and . . . more.

  If only they could go back.

  If only they could forget the past.

  But life wasn’t that easy. Or at least hers wasn’t. She couldn’t just put the pain aside and pretend it hadn’t happened. She ached and burned and hurt. But maybe . . .

  Maybe they could move forward.

  “Col?” she asked, when all he did was continue to stare at her. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m memorizing every detail of your face so that when you kick me out into the bloody cold Finnish weather, I’ll remember that you have a freckle just beneath your eye and another on the top corner of your lip. I’ll remember exactly the way your eyes curve near their corners and how your top lashes are thicker than the bottoms. I’ll remember the hint of pink”—he swiped a finger over both of her cheekbones—“just here and here. I’ll remember every part of you for the rest of my life. I let the details get blurred in the past, and while I couldn’t ever hope to forget you, at least now I’ll be able to remember you as perfect as you are in this moment.”

  Her pulse had picked up its pace during his speech, and her skin had gone taut, heating with desire, with embarrassment, with awe. “I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say at one time.”

  One half of his mouth curved. “Probably.”

  Silence fell between them again. “Do you really notice all of that?”

  A nod. “Aye.”

  She groaned. “No fair busting out the full Scottish accent.”

  “Nothing is fair in love and war, lass.”

  CeCe groaned again, but it was to hide the way her heart had skipped a beat at the word love. Though truth be told, it skipped another when Colin called her lass.

  Ugh.

  But also, aw.

  And also, shit, shit, she was really going to do this. “Col—” she began.

  “Aye?”

  Or something like it.

  “You’re laying it on real thick. But”—she reached up and placed a finger across his lips when he opened his mouth, presumably to protest—“that wasn’t what I was going to say.” He nipped at her finger, and she jumped back. “Hey! Behave.” And yet, Cecilia was grinning and felt light for the first time in years. “I was going to say that maybe we could bring the food over to the bed beneath the glass roof, lie down and—Colin! Stop grinning. I was going to say lie down and watch for the aurora borealis.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing.” But he grinned and pushed her in the direction of the bed. “Get comfortable, and I’ll grab the food.”

  She curled up and watched the sky grow fully dark, popping grapes and cheese and crackers into her mouth almost as fast as Colin handed them over. They talked, not about the past, but about the places she wanted to visit next.

  Paris because the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre were a must.

  Copenhagen because her grandfather had lived there and she wanted to visit the palaces and see the colorful buildings next to the harbor.

  The Alps. Barcelona. The Colosseum. And back to London.

  Because Hyde Park and old English manners and changeable weather and small twisting streets surrounded by tall buildings.

  And also, she thought, her heart catching when the sky lit up with a magical green hue, back to London because it was closer to a confusing, sweet Scottish man who’d stolen a piece of her heart and had never given it back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Colin

  Cecilia made the most adorable sounds when she slept—soft mewls as she cuddled closer, gentle sighs that tickled the side of his throat.

  She was as beautiful up close as from a distance, and though they’d stayed up late into the night, waiting on the aurora borealis and then finally seeing that distinct glimmer of green light up the dark sky, Colin hadn’t allowed himself to sleep.

  He was waiting for the other shoe to fall.

  He was waiting for Cecilia to see sense.

  He needed for her to be more attached to him before it happened. He needed her to love him.

  As he’d never stopped loving her.

  She yawned and turned in the circle of his arms, stretching and pressing her ass back against his crotch. He tried to shift slightly, so she didn’t rub against the giant problem threatening to burst free of the underwear he’d slipped on before they’d settled into bed, but he didn’t move quickly enough.

  Lights flashed behind his lids, and he hissed out a breath as those luscious curves slid against his cock.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, placing a hand on CeCe’s hip to stay her motions.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, slipping free and sliding closer.

  And, he might as well be honest, it felt so fucking good that he didn’t try very hard to keep her away.

  “CeCe, baby,” he began, but groaned when the soft cushion of her ass tucked right against his erection. Fuck, but she felt good against him.

  “Mmm,” she murmured again and then went ramrod stiff.

  Shit. Colin tensed, preparing to haul his ass out into the cold.

  She rolled over and opened her eyes, those green irises startlingly clear. One hand reached up to cup his cheek. “I thought it was a dream,” she said softly.

  “Not a dream.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Did you know your eyes are the same color as the northern lights?”

  One half of her mouth curved. “Really?”

  He kissed that curve. “Aye.”

  She shuddered and he smirked. “Still not playing fair, are you?”

  “When it comes to you?” he asked, not giving her a chance to reply. “Never.” Another kiss. “I’ll never play fair when it comes to winning you back, sweetheart. Letting you go was the biggest mistake—mistakes—of my life.”

  She smiled and it lit up the room. Or maybe that was his heart. “I like it when you don’t play fair.”

  Then that smile faltered and the brightness faded. He tried to figure out the underlying meaning of her words, why they’d hurt her so much.

  “You—” he began.

  But he didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence because then Cecilia’s mouth was on his and her hand was on his cock and . . . his head was spinning.

  He pulled back. “Wait, baby. What—”

  She sat up, tearing off the robe she’d fallen asleep in, and fuck but she was more gorgeous than ever. “Do you want me, Colin? Because I need you to make me feel good. I need you to make me forget that we were only together the once. I need you to help me forget what came after.”

  “I don’t think that—” He shook his head. “We need to talk, we shouldn’t just bury—”

  “Then just get the fuck out!” she screamed. “Because you’re going to leave anyway, and then I’ll be broken again, and I can’t. I can’t.” She shoved off the bed, snatching the robe and trying to wrestle it on as she ran.

  Which didn’t go well.

  Colin saw her start to go down before she realized what was happening, saw the tie of the robe tangled around her ankles as she started to sprint down the hall.

  He moved, not thinking, not trying to process the words nor the frustration he felt for not knowing what the fuck was going on.

  “Ah!” CeCe stumbled and went down in a jumble of limbs.

  But he was there.

  He caught her.

  As he should have done all those years ago.

  He righted her, tugged the robe over her shoulders and tied it snugly around her waist.

  She wouldn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to see her eyes to know they were shimmering with tears.

  “Right, then,” he said, as he should have in the past. “We’re not leaving here until we both have said all there is to say. No more secrets. No more hidden pain. We both need to understand exactly what happened.”

  She started to shake her head, but he placed both hands on her shoulders. “No, sweetheart. We’ve run long enough. Now is the time for the
truth.” He sucked in a breath when she finally looked at him, and the force of her hurt socked him the gut. “The full truth.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  He squeezed lightly and led her back to the bed, tucking her beneath the warm blankets. “If we want to have a chance at moving forward, we need to.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “So I guess the question is, do you want to move forward with me . . . with us?”

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes closing for so long that his gut twisted into knots, and then those knots twisted into more knots.

  “Yes.” His gaze flew to hers, and he saw the fire in her expression, the determination and his pulse slowed, those knots untangled.

  “Good,” he said, trying to sound casual but no doubt failing horribly at it. “Now is this a tea or a whiskey conversation?”

  She grinned and then laughed when they both answered at the same time, “Whiskey. Definitely whiskey.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cecilia

  “I don’t really know where to begin,” CeCe said, whiskey in hand. She took a sip of the fiery liquid, relishing the burn as it went down, soaking up the notes of oak and honey and—

  She was delaying.

  But she really didn’t know where to start.

  Six years ago, they’d worked through the traumatic end to her first trip to Scotland, but it had taken about two point six million emails and direct messages from Colin before she’d even begun to forgive him.

  The image of him walking away on the cliff side, wind mussing his hair, the moonlight transforming his solid form into shadows in mere seconds had broken a piece of her CeCe knew would never be the same.

  Her innocence.

  No, that part had been freely given. But he’d taken her ability to . . . dream.

  Happy endings were no longer guaranteed. She wouldn’t ever be rescued by a man on a white—or in his case, a black—stallion.

  It had taken her a long time before she’d begun to appreciate that having her heart broken had ultimately been a good thing. She couldn’t have continued in this world with those naïve, rose-colored glasses on. She certainly wouldn’t have survived college if not for Colin’s cold treatment.