Untamed: A Billionaire Romance

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Untamed: A Billionaire Romance Page 6

by Kira Blakely

The perfect opportunity to investigate.

  My conscience resists, but my curiosity wins out.

  So what if Nathan finds out I’ve been snooping? I deserve to know the truth. Besides, it’s his fault he left me alone.

  If I’m careful, maybe, just maybe, he won’t even find out.

  After putting my clothes back on, I start with the bedroom, pulling out the drawer on the nightstand.

  Just a pile of condoms. Different brands. Different colors. All XL.

  Suspicious. Why does he keep so many condoms?

  The other drawers in the bedroom are locked so I check the closet, finding a box at the bottom.

  Bingo.

  There are only magazines in it, though — his stash of porn magazines.

  Surprising.

  On second thought, not really.

  He’s a grown man, after all.

  True, some of the pictures in the magazines are far too obscene for my liking, but hey, what do you expect? It’s a porn magazine.

  At least, none of the pages seem sticky.

  In fact, they seem new, as if they’ve never been read at all.

  Still, why keep them?

  I put the magazines back in the box, the box back in the closet and move on.

  Nothing in the bathroom. Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the living room.

  All that’s left is the office.

  I hesitate. After all, there could be important documents in there. Sensitive documents. And cash.

  But it’s not like I’m going to steal, after all. In fact, I promise to behave and not read any of the documents.

  Taking a deep breath, I enter. The room is large but there isn’t much inside it — just a lot of shelves, a filing cabinet and a massive but sleek, black desk in the middle.

  I check the drawers of those first.

  Locked.

  The next one is locked, too.

  In fact, most of the drawers are locked. I’m about to give up when I feel an envelope hidden behind a row of books on the shelf.

  I open it with slightly shaking fingers, my throat going dry as I see the notebook inside — a notebook with pages filled with women’s names, pictures and numbers.

  There are no other women in my contacts.

  Maybe not in his contacts but there are certainly plenty of them here.

  Liar.

  It’s enough to make me regret sleeping with Nathan, but then I see the pictures and I start to loathe myself.

  They’re pictures of Nathan with various women.

  Stolen shots.

  Barry’s shots?

  But he seemed like he didn’t know Barry. And Barry said he had nothing to gain from showing his pictures to Nathan.

  Unless they were both lying.

  Nathan had already lied once.

  At any rate, it doesn’t matter who took the pictures. The pictures are clearly of Nathan and other women.

  And he is keeping them in an envelope hidden in his bookshelf.

  Shit.

  So, this is what ‘curiosity killed the cat’ means.

  Now that I know, I wish I didn’t, the pain in my chest making it hard for me to breathe.

  Hastily, I put the pictures and the envelope back in place then I hurry out of the apartment, wishing I had never set foot there.

  Pam was right, after all.

  “I told you so,” Pam says over coffee when we meet at a café a short while later.

  The words sting, but I deserve them. I should have listened to her.

  I should have been smarter, but no. I fell for Nathan Landers’ tricks.

  It’s a good thing I didn’t fall for him yet.

  You slept with him, though.

  “Shut up.”

  “What?” Pam gives me a puzzled look.

  “Nothing.” I pick up my cup. “I’m just talking to myself. Scolding myself mostly. So, really, you don’t have to be so hard on me.”

  Pam shrugs. “All I said was ‘I told you so.’”

  “Twice.” I take a sip.

  “Want me to say it a third time?”

  I frown. “You would have been tricked, too, if someone gave you a dog shelter.”

  Pam’s eyes grow wide. “He gave you a dog shelter?”

  I nod. “Sort of.”

  “Nah. Dog shelters aren’t my thing. If he got me exclusive interviews with certain people, though…”

  “See. You have an Achilles’ heel. Everyone has. He used mine. If he used yours, you would have been fooled, too.”

  “Or maybe I would have just used him.”

  “Now, why didn’t that occur to me?” I set down my cup. “Oh, right. Because I’m not cold like you. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that that might be the reason why you’re still single?”

  She falls silent, the silence making me feel guilty.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” I sigh. “I really was such a fool, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes. Yes, you were.”

  I should have scurried away when I had the chance.

  “I’m pathetic. I have no romance. I have no family—”

  “Whoa. What do you mean you have no family?” Pam’s eyebrows crease. “Did something happen to your parents that you didn’t tell me about?”

  Right. I haven’t told her about the argument.

  I tell her now.

  At the end, she shakes her head and gives a disapproving click of her tongue. “Now, that’s a bigger problem.”

  “I know,” I say. “But I don’t think I was wrong. Was I?”

  Pam shrugs. “You had a reason to be upset. But were you right to say those things to your father? I don’t know.”

  “He was going to sell the truck without telling me.”

  “That was wrong. But selling the truck? I’m not sure. It’s true that no one’s using it, after all.”

  “You don’t have to use something for it to be important.” I stick out my lower lip as I lean back on my chair with shoulders slumped. “It could just stand for something. Like flags, for example. If you think about it, they’re just useless pieces of cloth, but they stand for something, don’t they?”

  “Hey. I’m not the enemy here, okay?” She picks up her cup. “I’m just trying to help you understand your father, which is what you want to do, right?”

  Right. “Sorry.”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is your father’s just being practical. Selling Jack’s truck doesn’t mean he’s going to forget all about Jack. In spite of all their differences, they’re father and son. Besides, memories live on in hearts, not in objects.”

  I hate to admit it, but Pam has a point.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the truck has just been reminding your father of Jack and of his own failures as a father? Maybe the reason he wants to sell it is because he finally wants to be free of the pain?”

  Nope. That hasn’t occurred to me, either.

  “Whatever his reasons may be, I don’t think Jack’s truck should get between you and your parents. Jack wouldn’t like that, would he?”

  I look at Pam. “Sometimes, I hate you. Do you know that?”

  “Because I see things you don’t? Hey, an investigative reporter has got to see issues from different perspectives.”

  “And you happen to be one of the best, don’t you?”

  She grins. “You’re welcome. Now, go make amends with your parents. I’m sure they don’t want to be estranged from you, either.”

  I frown. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to tell me ‘I told you so’ again sometime soon?”

  Pam pats me on the shoulder. “Just think of it as my way of saying ‘all’s well that ends well.’”

  All’s well that ends well, huh?

  I wonder about that as I walk back to my apartment.

  Well, frankly, I’m not sure how this is going to end well. I still feel hurt that Jack’s truck got sold, after all.

  And I’m sure my dad’s hurt, too, that I said all those things to him
. I even disowned him. Well, technically, I disowned myself. But I was still the one who cut the ties.

  How can I put it back the way it was? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me ever again?

  The moment I return to my apartment, though, my worries vanish.

  My mother’s waiting for me outside the door.

  “Mom?”

  She gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry I showed up without telling you. I actually came to your apartment last night but you weren’t here, so I returned early this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “It’s okay,” I say as I open the door.

  I don’t mind. I’m just confused.

  “But why? What are you doing here, Mom? And where’s Dad?”

  “Your father went back to Rumney already this morning. He has some animals to take care of, after all,” she explains as she enters my apartment. “But believe me, dear, he isn’t mad at you. On the contrary, I think he wants you to forgive him.”

  I say nothing, picking up Siberia as she comes up to me.

  “You will forgive him, won’t you? After all, no harm’s been done.”

  I give her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  “Well…” She sits down, her hands clasped on her knee. “After your heartfelt speech, George decided not to buy the truck and your father took down the ad. He decided not to sell it.”

  “He did?” I sit down beside her.

  “Your father loved Jack, too, you know. And he loves you.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “Very much.”

  “I know.”

  “So, you’ll forgive him?” she asks hopefully.

  I nod. “He’s my father. In fact, I’ve been thinking that if he wants to sell Jack’s truck, he can.”

  Mom looks surprised. “You sure?”

  I nod. “Jack wouldn’t want Dad to have a hard time. If he needs the money, then—”

  “Actually, speaking of the money, a man called your dad this morning. He was asking if he wanted a loan.”

  “A loan?”

  “It’s strange because we didn’t apply for a loan, although we were thinking of it.”

  Strange indeed. I already know what happened.

  Or more precisely, who’s behind it.

  There’s only one man with enough money and with ties to banks who might want to help me. Nathan.

  “Your father suggested it might have been someone you’re dating.” She pets Siberia as the cat scoots over to her. “He said otherwise, why would a stranger want to help us or even know of our problems? Is that so?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not dating anyone.”

  Even if it was Nathan, it doesn’t matter. I’m not falling for his tricks anymore, regardless of how elaborate they are.

  Mom sighs. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “A relief?” I’m confused. I thought my mom was secretly wishing for me to get married.

  “Your father said if someone you were dating was offering us a loan, he must be asking for something in return, something he wasn’t sure he’d want you to give him.”

  For a moment, I don’t speak, my father’s words sinking straight to the core.

  Something he wasn’t sure he’d want you to give him.

  Then as if those words are the nail in the coffin, I break, the tears I’ve been holding at bay since I left Nathan’s apartment flowing free.

  I do what I haven’t done in a long time — I cry like a baby in my mother’s arms.

  “Sam?”

  I tell my Mom all about Nathan amid tears and sniffles — how he exploited my weakness, how he played me like a damn fiddle, how I wish I hadn’t slept with him or ever even met him.

  My mom just listens as she wraps her arms around me, stroking my hair as she rocks me back and forth.

  “I wish Jack was still here,” I tell her when I’m done crying.

  “I know.” My mother kisses the top of my head. “But he’s always watching over you, you know.”

  I know. He must be feeling frustrated right now, having been unable to protect me. But I’ll show him I’ll be fine.

  Now that I’ve had a good cry, I feel brand new and my mind is clear, my heart strong.

  “I’ll be fine, Mom.” So what if Nathan doesn’t need me anymore? I don’t need him. “I still have my job. I’m going to work hard.”

  If ever I run into Nathan at a party, I’ll pretend nothing ever happened. I can do that if he can.

  “And one day, I’m going to get my dream job. I’m going to travel the world, taking pictures of the most amazing and most elusive creatures on Earth.”

  And that will be more than enough.

  My mom gives me another hug. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do all that, sweetheart.”

  From this moment on, Nathan Landers will be nothing more than a bad memory. And soon, he won’t even be a memory.

  Nathan Landers who?

  9

  Not Biting the Bait

  “Who’s N.L.?” Mattie asks, reading the card that came with another bouquet delivered to the Prima Vida office, which is currently empty except for Mattie and me, the rest of the staff on assignments.

  Another day, another bouquet. This time, roses and tulips sit there on top of the cabinet by the door.

  Nathan doesn’t know how to take a hint, does he?

  I shrug, my eyes on my computer screen. “Beats me.”

  “Oh, come on. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

  She sits on my desk.

  “If it didn’t have a name, I’d believe it was a secret admirer.” She waves the card in front of my face. “But this one’s clearly signed ‘N.L.’ with the silhouette of a lion stamped beside it.”

  Yup, I’ve noticed.

  The nerve.

  “Stop it, Mattie.” I try to grab the card, but Mattie holds it beyond my reach.

  “So were the other cards,” she says. “On the dozen other bouquets.”

  “The ones I returned?”

  “Ooh, someone’s playing hard to get.”

  “Not hard to get.” I sit down and continue working on my computer. “Impossible to get.”

  “He’s persistent. That means he wants you. Badly.”

  I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t want me. He wants something from me. There’s a difference.”

  “Really? What does he want?”

  Good question. What more does he want from me? More sex? Can’t he get that from another woman? Can’t he move on to someone new? What? Does he want to hurt me some more? To make an even bigger fool of me? Haven’t I amused him enough?

  I give another shrug. “Beats me.”

  “Well, if you tell me who he is, maybe I can talk to him for you. Ask what he wants.”

  Not a chance. “No, thank you.”

  Mattie frowns. “Why not? I’m good at dealing with men.”

  “I know you are. But this one’s different. He’ll devour you.”

  She grins. “Now I’m even more intrigued.”

  Right. I forgot Mattie loves a good challenge. If she was a moth, she’d probably hover around an open flame just to see how close she can get without getting burned.

  “So, tell me.” Mattie goes behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “If you ask me, he’s unlucky because he picked me to mess with. And stupid.”

  Mattie ignores me. “N. L., huh? Do I know him?”

  “No,” I lie.

  “Is he rich? No. Don’t answer that. He’s been sending you flowers, so he must be rich.”

  “Um, are you still talking to me? Because I’m trying to work here.”

  Again, she ignores me. “Is he older than you?”

  I don’t answer. Two can play the pretend-I-don’t-hear-you game.

  “Is he married?”

  “What?”

  Then again, that’s a good question. What if Nathan is secretly married? The more I try to forget about him, the more I realize I never really knew him.


  “Divorced? With kids?”

  “Mattie…”

  “Come on. Just give me a clue. One clue.”

  I sigh. “He’s a jerk.”

  She pouts. “Gee, thanks. That’s about every guy on this planet.”

  “It doesn’t matter who he is,” I tell her. “And it doesn’t matter how many flowers he sends me. I’m not giving him the time of day.”

  Mattie sighs. “I almost feel sorry for the guy.”

  I snort. “Don’t.”

  “And for the flowers. Can I bring this one home?”

  “Sure.” I don’t even think about it. “You can have all the flowers.”

  “Thanks.” She goes to get them. “I think I’ll show them off and pretend that a secret admirer gave them to me.”

  “Whatever.”

  I’m just glad to be rid of the flowers. And of Mattie.

  Alone at last.

  I let my face fall on the keyboard, sighing. Now, if only Nathan would leave me alone as well.

  I should have known he wasn’t going to leave me alone.

  A few days later, on my day off, just after I’ve finished giving Siberia her first meal of the day, the doorbell to my apartment rings.

  I answer it and a woman is standing there.

  Petite. Brown hair. Full, almond-shaped dark eyes. Pink collared blouse. Black blazer. Black pencil skirt. Stockings. Half-inch heels.

  Nope. I don’t have a clue who she is.

  “Can I help you?” I ask through the small gap in the doorway.

  “Actually, you can. You are Ms. Samantha Willis, correct?”

  “Yes,” I answer reluctantly.

  She smiles. “My name is Abigail Gomez. Abby. I’m Mr. Landers’ personal assistant. Can I come in?”

  I take a moment to digest the lengthy introduction. “Nathan Landers?”

  She nods.

  I didn’t even know Nathan had a personal assistant. Not that I care.

  “Can I come in?” she repeats.

  “Um, actually, I’m not sure,” I confess. “You see, I’m trying to cut my ties with Mr. Landers.”

  “I know.”

  She knows?

  “That’s why I’m here. To deliver a gift.”

  She hands me a big, shiny paper bag. When I don’t accept it, she opens it, bringing out a stuffed orange tabby from inside.

  A stuffed toy cat? Really?

  “Mr. Landers thought of giving you a dog, but he remembered dogs aren’t allowed at your apartment. Then he thought of giving you a stuffed dog but thought Siberia might not like it. So, he decided to give you a stuffed toy cat. Oh, and there’s a toy for Siberia here as well.”

 

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