Bought by the Billionaire: A Billionaire and Virgin Romance (Diamond Dust Escorts)

by Riley Love

  Thirty-six years ago when my father had founded the company with his best friend, he’d never known it would turn into a multibillion-dollar corporation. Now Francois and I were in it together as the firstborn sons of the original founders.

  My little sister didn’t have an interest in becoming a computer tech business mogul. She’d shunned this side of our family and taken an interest in art, establishing her own gallery instead. And then there was my little brother, still in college and contemplating changing his major, because our mother had bullied him to become a doctor and it wasn’t his actual dream. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that.

  I loved my family, but Mum claimed she was eager to retire from being the head of the family, always urging me to take her place and marry a gentle little wife who would be her snooping equal.

  I didn’t want to boss them all around. I didn’t want a snooping, overbearing wife.

  She called again. I glanced at the phone and groaned, letting it go to voicemail while I entered specific details into a form attached to Kelly’s DDE profile. How long would I need her companionship? I entered two or three days at the most, entered a monetary offer of two hundred thousand American dollars, and submitted the form.

  When I rose and stretched, Petunia came out of hiding and snaked around my right ankle. I glanced down at the white fluffball and sighed. “I suppose I should do an inventory now to see what you’ve destroyed during my absence.”

  Petty, as family and friends had christened the little lovable bitch, enjoyed wrecking some of my personal belongings any time I left her behind at home. She stood on her hind legs and pawed at my shin until I plucked her up from the floor and carried her. She twisted around, bumped her furry head against my chin, and rumbled until I concluded my walkthrough of the apartment.

  Francois’s distinct ringtone reached me from where I’d left my mobile phone on the coffee table, moments after I discovered toilet roll strewn over the bathroom.

  I hit accept and cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Thanks for keeping an eye on Petty.”

  “My pleasure. So how did it go?”

  I grunted, refusing to admit a virgin had given me the most vigorous and enthusiastic fuck of my life. “Kelly will be introduced as promised. That’ll satisfy everyone’s curiosity, and I’ll be left alone to live my life.”

  “Excellent. I knew a little financial motivation would work in your favor. Now, what’re you going to do when you’re ready to have a real lady?”

  Petty jumped down and followed me into the kitchen, meowing until I filled her bowl. “We’ll have a quiet breakup. I’ll tell them Kelly decided we should see other people, while also confessing there’s a new woman in my life. A smooth transition.”

  “You’d better find one then, or this trouble will start all over. Speaking of which, don’t keep me in suspense. How was it?”

  “You should know better. I’m not giving you a play by play.”

  “Ever the gentleman.”

  “We can’t all be rakes like you.”

  Truth was I was still trying to make sense of it all. Kelly hadn’t been what I expected, and the sex— the sex had been phenomenal. How did a virgin know how to do those things with her tongue?

  “Will I at least get to meet her before the wedding?” Francois asked.

  “I suppose so. I’m planning to fly her in the day before. Are you still seeing that beautician?”

  “Anna? She’s on my list. Why?”

  “Because I’ll need help turning our little American into a proper lady. Would Anna be up for the task?”

  “I’ll give her a ring and see what I can arrange.”

  “Splendid.” Once we fashioned my American into a girlfriend my family would believe, I’d explore my strange attraction to the girl. Get her out of my system.

  Maybe I only needed to fuck her one more time.

  The day of Kelly’s arrival dawned bright and clear, a surprisingly sunny day for London. The snow had melted days ago and ushered in hints of spring in time for my sister’s wedding day.

  But it was more than the perfect weather that had my heart racing with anticipation. I’d been looking forward to her arrival.

  My chauffeur brought her from Heathrow to my building a little after noon, and I fetched her personally from the lobby to discover she’d obeyed my instructions and brought no luggage. She carried only a tote bag and wore a charcoal peacoat over leggings.

  Fuck, her legs went on for miles. Legs I wanted wrapped around me one more time.

  Kelly stepped forward and kissed my cheek, the vision of an affectionate girlfriend.

  The doorman’s smile widened. “Pleasant day for you, I see, my lord. Wish your sister well on her big day for me.”

  “I will, Thomas. Thank you.”

  Guiding Kelly by the elbow, I took her to the private lift servicing only the penthouse floors. “How was your flight?”

  “Long,” she replied, a hint of a smile on her face. “I could get used to flying first class, you know. I’m spoiled now. They offered me wine and steak. Real food. Not stale peanuts and dusty cookies with a plastic cup of soda.”

  I chuckled. “I haven’t flown coach since I was a young man. My father didn’t believe in this extravagant spending nonsense.”

  “Is that why you’re so willing to throw away millions on me? Because he raised you to be thrifty?”

  “Darling, throwing away implies you weren’t worth every cent. And yes, I suppose so. Once I had my own fortune, it was nice to be the one who decided how it was spent.”

  The elevator stopped. I placed a hand against her lower back and walked her to my door. My penthouse was the only unit on the entire floor. She gawked.

  When I unlocked the door, her eyes grew rounder. I took her coat before she drifted to the far side of the living area. The spotless windows of the twenty-fifth floor spanned the entire wall and displayed a view of the city below.

  “Welcome to my home.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I sense a but in there.”

  She glanced away from the window to me, a pretty blush in her cheeks. “No, it’s nothing really. I guess I expected something older. Every time I see anything about rich British men on television, it seems like they live in a mansion.”

  “Ah, yes, well, my mother lives in the mansion. I wanted something suited to my tastes and with less crannies to collect dust.”

  “I like it. Your view is amazing. The Thames is beautiful.”

  “It’s especially lovely at night. Now, can I get you anything? Wine? Tea?”

  “Tea, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “Not at all. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

  “Will you tell me now about this event we’re going to tomorrow?”

  “My sister’s wedding.”

  “Wait, you mean it’s our first date, and you’re already throwing me at your family?”

  “Second date, technically. We had dinner before. That counts.”

  “You had dinner. I sat there staring at you because my stomach was in knots.”

  I grinned in the face of her irritation. “Even so, a wedding date is what I needed. As promised, I have everything you require to play the part.”

  “Right. Your long-time, foreign girlfriend. Is there anything I need to know for that?”

  “No, not really. I never went into details about my relationship with Kelly beyond a few comments. As far as they all know, we’ve been seeing one another for close to three years. This is your first visit to England.”

  “Well, that’s easy enough since it’s true. The last bit, at least.”

  “Rightly so.” I made my way to the kitchen, aware of her trailing behind me. There was already a warm kettle on the stove, so I turned the heat back on and went about preparing tea for two.

  Kelly explored, drifting from one window to the next. I watched her, the way she moved quietly like grace personified—yet seemed too hesitant to touch anything. She
reached out for the piano set against the wall but drew back her fingers and tucked her hands in her pockets.

  “Do you play?” I asked.

  “Not as much anymore. We used to have a beautiful upright piano my great-grandmother left us but…”

  “What happened?”

  “We had to sell it,” she said after a moment.

  For her mother, I supposed. The thought made me frown. “Well, you’re free to play mine whenever you like while you’re here.”

  “Do you play?”

  I grimaced. “I can play, but I don’t. This was a gift from my mum.” Her brows rose, so I continued to explain, “She hired my first tutor when I turned two, and lessons continued until I left home to join the Royal Marines. Of course, within days of my return from Afghanistan, what does she send me as a welcome home gift?”

  Kelly laughed. It was melodic and soothing, tinkling bells to my ears. I could have listened to her the entire afternoon if she’d only giggle for me one more time. “I can think of worse gifts, but I think I understand.”

  A quiet moment passed until I realized we were staring at each other. I offered a hand. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

  Chapter Seven

  Kelly

  Grayson took me to a room three times larger than the little shoebox I shared with my brother at home. It was also within arm’s reach of his bedroom door, which he’d left open, letting me see inside when we passed by.

  The room matched the man, tidy and neat, serene shades of gray offset by turquoise blue accents. The guest bedroom wasn’t as interesting, decorated in shades of cream and brown, but no less tidy. The windows spanned the entire wall, and a comfortable, oval chair filled one corner. Grayson slid a door in the wall to reveal an ivory dresser and several empty hangers.

  “Dressing room and en suite are over there,” he said, gesturing to two doors on our left.

  I opened the door to an enormous walk-in closet. The second let me into a bathroom rivaling my bedroom in size, with a huge, oval tub and sink. A translucent glass wall revealed the spacious standing shower and its gold fixtures.

  “To your satisfaction, I hope?”

  “Um, yes. But what are we going to do for my clothes? You told me to bring only the necessities.”

  I’d donned a tight, white cowl-neck sweater and brown leggings for the flight. His gaze slid to my chest and lingered, practically eyefucking me, one look a reminder of how his lips had explored my breasts and nibbled each tip. The breath caught in my throat. God.

  “I’ve called my personal assistant, Catherine, to take you to the boutiques this evening. We’ll build you a suitable wardrobe for your visits.”

  “Suitable.”

  “Nothing against your style of clothing, love, but there’s a certain expectation—”

  “They think I’m a rich bitch.”

  “Yes. Well, no. Not rich. Provided for, would be a more accurate term,” he said, leading me to believe my predecessor had taken him for thousands already. No wonder he could throw money in the wind like he didn’t care.

  “What’s my purchase limit? How do I know when to stop?”

  “You’ll stop when you’re tired of shopping.”

  Catherine—who informed me all of her best friends called her Cate—shopped like we were planning to dress all of London but only had a single afternoon to do it. We zipped from one high-end store to the next while Grayson’s driver taxied us to different prime shopping districts.

  Although our adventure began in Bond Street with visits to Dolce & Gabbana and ambled down to Chanel and Burberry, we finished at some quirky luxury boutiques in King’s Road.

  “Are you trying to empty the stores?” I demanded, needing a breather. My feet ached, and I envied her for having the stamina to rush up and down these sidewalks in a pair of wicked heels.

  Maybe she was a machine fashioned by his company. She looked like the T-X from Terminator: Rise of the Machines, at least, with her ultra-conservative ponytail and chic pantsuit. She’d have to be a killer android to work around Grayson every day and not need a spare pair of panties in her purse.

  “No, sweetheart. I’m not emptying the stores, but I am building you a complete wardrobe. You’re in high society London now and knickers off Walmart’s bargain wall won’t do.”

  Harry, Grayson’s cheerful driver, pulled to the side of the road to retrieve us. We slipped into the back seat. I only had a couple bags of necessities in hand for the night and morning, and Cate carried another bag. She’d taken advantage of most stores’ delivery policy to have my thousands of dollars in clothing shipped directly to the penthouse.

  “So, does that mean that you know about…”

  Cate’s ginger brows rose. “That you’re a high-priced call girl he purchased from America to deceive his family? Of course. Grayson tells me everything.”

  Grayson.

  She’d used his first name and no title, sending trembles of unease through my stomach, shredding my nerves, because I could hear the condescension in her words and felt like a pinned butterfly under her gaze.

  “We closest to him have been apprised of the situation and are absolutely aware of the importance of this sham.”

  “Oh.”

  She patted my knee. “Not that I’m judging. As far as personality goes, you’re already an improvement over the previous Kelly. She’d spent twice as much in Dolce & Gabbana alone.”

  I grimaced. “She sounds like a gold-digging bitch.”

  “You couldn’t convince Grayson of that, of course. He thought the sun rose and set with Kelly. Always eager to visit America, and yet, the little twat never brought her arse here to see him unless he dangled flights to Paris in front of her nose.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “He hasn’t told you much about her, has he?”

  I shook my head.

  “They met at the wedding party of a mutual friend and hit it off. She was a photography student in some American city, but she changed her major at least twice while they dated. Couldn’t be arsed to come see him.”

  “Never?”

  “In London? Not once. She made him take her to distant vacation hot spots—Athens, St. Martin, Barcelona, anywhere with expensive hotels and even better food.”

  “How didn’t he see what she was doing?”

  Cate shrugged. “Blinded by her charm, I suppose. And her tits. Grayson is a very trusting man, and he wants to see the best in everyone. When I tried to tell him that her only interests were in his wallet—”

  “He didn’t believe you.”

  She laughed. “He sacked me. Of course, the obstinate git couldn’t run his bloody office without me, and rehired me days later. I suspect Francois talked to him, though he would have come to his senses in his own time.”

  “You two…” I wet my lips, struggling.

  Her green eyes twinkled. “Grew up together. All three of us. I’m Grayson’s cousin. At least, I would be through marriage if my mother and his uncle didn’t divorce. Third marriage for both of them, so hardly a surprise when it failed.”

  “Oh.” The tension in my chest eased. “That’s why he isn’t Your Lordship and all that other stuff I’ve heard.”

  “Right. You won’t catch me using it. In public perhaps, where perception matters, but among friends, you’re not expected to use it. You, in particular, won’t be expected to call him Lord Fernsworth. He’s Grayson to you. He’s been visiting you abroad for two years, and you’re deeply in love.”

  “Right. Um, so, how is it that after all this time, no one has caught any photographs of the elusive, gold-digging Kelly?”

  A flush of pleasure warmed Cate’s cheeks. “Me again. Aside from being one of his best childhood friends, I’m also a member of his legal counsel. My particular duty happens to be guarding his privacy by making photographs and stories disappear with copious amounts of money, or lawsuits if necessary. If anyone tries to hurt Grayson, they’ll have to go through me.”

  I
acknowledged the underlying warning in her gentle words with a head nod. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m under a strict non-disclosure agreement, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. Aside from it being an asshole thing to do, I have family who don’t need to know about this.”

  Her features softened. “Yes. He mentioned your mother is ill. I’m sorry about that. Is she in remission?”

  I shook my head. “Not officially yet. But her oncologist says the most recent scans are favorable. I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to pay for everything without blowing my secret.”

  We reached Grayson’s building a short while later. Cate taught me the key code for the private elevator, and we rode it to his level with bags in hand.

  She let us inside with a key. Grayson was on the couch in front of the television with an enormous bucket of popcorn and beer, leaning forward to watch the sweaty men running up and down the field on his television.

  He didn’t have on a shirt.

  One of the guys on the screen ran into a zone and touched a ball on the ground. Grayson shouted, “Fuck yes!”

  I didn’t know the first thing about rugby to understand what was happening on the field, but apparently it was in his team’s favor. I watched from behind the back of the couch as that same ball was kicked over a post. More cheers, more excitement.

  After unzipping my boots, I maneuvered around the sofa and collapsed against the cushions.

  Cate set both hands on her hips. “Put on a shirt, would you?”

  “Why? I’m in my own bloody house.”

  “Yes, but unlike our new friend, I’m not impressed by your muscles.”

  Grayson scowled at her and took a long drink from his beer. “How’d it go?”

  “Terrific. She’s a born shopper and an improvement over Kelly 1.0 in every way.”

  I frowned at her. “Liar. You dragged me in half of those stores.”

  “Which is precisely why you’re perfect for Grayson, dearest. You’re frugal, but you have style.” Cate passed me a card. “Text me at any time if you need me. I’m off.”