The Billionaire's Daughter
By
Maggie Carpenter
©2012 by Blushing Books® and Maggie Carpenter
Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Maggie Carpenter
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Carpenter, Maggie
The Billionaire's Daughter
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-807-3
Cover Design by Sullivan Clarke
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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MAGGIE CARPENTER
If you are a devotee of erotic, sensuous literature, encompassing many aspects of Male Domination and and female submission, you need to look no further than Maggie.
Visit her website here:
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Visit her blog here:
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CHAPTER ONE
Kate shivered. She was sitting by a blazing fire reading the latest issue of her favorite magazine, The Horse Journal, and just the sound of the blustering wind made her feel colder. There was the sense of a storm in the air and the darkening skies promised it wouldn’t be much longer.
Dressed in a tight fitting red cashmere sweater that stopped at the waist, black leggings and thick white socks, she looked every bit the sexy rich young woman she was. Her long hair was reddish brown with shimmering highlights, and when the light caught it just right it appeared iridescent. Her eyes were a dark brown but turned almost black when she was angry, which happened quite often. She was a tad under 5”7”and possessed a naturally svelte figure, though blessed with a bounteous bust for which she was very grateful.
Kate looked up from the magazine and gazed absently across the room at the large picture window. She couldn’t concentrate. She’d just been fired! The fourth job in - what - two years? She couldn’t believe it. But then again she could. She just didn’t know how to control herself sometimes, and if she became frustrated or upset she would let fly. At least she hadn’t had to face her parents.
Her father was in Europe on an extended business trip. “We’ll deal with this when I get back in a couple of weeks,” her father had said gruffly on the phone. A powerful businessman, William “Bill” Hollister had made sure his only daughter wanted for nothing. Now he was despairing of her and very worried. She had been impossible as a teenager, and as a young woman she couldn’t hold a job, usually because of her impatience and fearful temper.
Her mother Catherine Jane Wilcox, had been a Miss America from whom Kate had inherited her stunning looks. Catherine traveled a great deal but the time she had spent at home when Kate was growing up, the woman had set a questionable example for the impressionable child. Stamp your feet, stand your ground and you’ll get your way.
She had called Kate from New York and was in the middle of debating her daughter when the phone call was cut short. A crisis with some seating arrangements for her charity event required her mother’s urgent attention.
Feeling restless, Kate tossed The Horse Journal on the coffee table and wandered over to look out at the weather. Her eyes scanned the wide green lawns, then traveled further afield to a large group of trees. The wind was whipping the branches and they seemed to be performing their own chaotic dance. All those images of Southern California being the land of sunshine! Sure, 8 months of the year they had the best weather in the country. But when winter finally decided to drop on by - look out!
Wishing she could run to the barn and jump on one of her horses and go for a long trail ride, she considered at least wandering down and checking on them. They were locked in their stalls out of the elements, and probably just as bored as she was.
She was about to turn away when a gust of wind whistled past the window. Swirling leaves and assorted debris tumbled violently through the air. Captivated she watched the tumult, but her eyes fell on something in the distance she couldn’t quite discern. She squinted, trying to make it out, and realized it was a man literally hanging out of a tree. He seemed to have some kind of sling around his waist and was attempting to lower himself to the ground.
Hurrying to the hall closet she found the binoculars and dashed back. She was right! And it was frightening! It definitely was a man and he definitely was hanging, but he wasn’t as high as she had previously thought. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it looked.
Then it happened.
Feeling completely helpless she stared in utter disbelief as she watched his body fall. When he hit the ground she let out a short, sharp cry and held her breath waiting for him to stand up. To her great relief he did, and began staggering forward.
She ran into the marbled foyer calling frantically for Cecil. He was her father’s majordomo, decidedly English, tall and quite portly, and cast a rather imposing figure. He’d been with the family for many years.
“What is it Kate?” he asked, bustling in from her father's st
udy, alarmed at the young woman’s anxious cry.
“There’s a man. In the trees. He fell. Quick. You’ve got to help him!”
After so many years Cecil was used to Kate’s dramas and took them in stride.
“May I have the binoculars please?” he asked, walking calmly towards her, thinking more than likely it was a branch that had been ripped away by the heavy winds.
“Oh for goodness sake!” she declared, handing them over. “It’s a man I tell you!”
Cecil took the binoculars, walked into the living room and made his way to the windows. Holding them up he peered into the distance.
“Oh dear. It’s Dante!”
She froze, and felt her heart skip a beat.
Dante!?
“I didn’t think he was coming out until tomorrow,” Cecil continued. “He’s limping but he seems okay. Probably sprained his ankle. I’ll go and see if I can help him.”
Dante! Ohhhh... Kate silently cried, and felt the immediate birth of dust devils that could match any of the winds blowing outside. She had been in crush with him since childhood.
Dante was the son of one of her father’s dearest friends, Mario Giodarno, an old fashioned Italian gentleman who had owned a small Italian restaurant. Dante loved the outdoors, was naturally athletic, and starting at a very early age had worked on the grounds of the estate.
While her father’s wealth gave her every material need she could ever want, she had been a lonely little girl - until Dante came to work after school. Oh how she adored him. She would run to wherever it was he was working as soon as she saw him. Many times he would tell her firmly that he didn’t have time to play but she didn’t care. On those occasions she would just hang around and sometimes help him dig out weeds or plant new flowers. It didn’t matter. She was hanging out with him and that’s all she cared about.
Her adoration through her teens did not fade, but he had left for college so she only saw him during the summers. And when she did her heart beat a little faster. But try as she might to spend time with him it was always just a quick hello and a chat for a few minutes, never leading to anything more. No dates - not even cups of coffee.
Now he was here! And coming into the house!
“I’ll get the blanket from the closet,” she announced, taking the binoculars from Cecil and following him out into the foyer.
As he disappeared out the front door she returned to the closet and found the thick, plaid wool blanket her father had brought back from Scotland. It would be just the thing. Placing it on the center table ready to wrap around him as soon as he walked through the door, she hurried back to her vantage point. They were close enough that she could see Cecil was doing his best to help him, but the rain was starting and he was dressed only in a red flannel shirt and blue jeans. No jacket! He’d be freezing and soaked by the time he got inside.
A hot bath, she thought, and raced down the hallway to the largest guest suite on the ground floor and into the expansive bathroom. Turning on the faucets she let the water flow on full so as to fill the tub quickly. By the time she returned to the foyer Dante and Cecil were staggering in through the door.
She caught her breath. It had been almost two years since she had last seen him and he was more gorgeous than ever. His tousled, wet, jet black hair was longer and fuller than she remembered. His wide shoulders and square jaw made him look as if he’d stepped off the pages of GQ.
But the eyes. The eyes were the same. They had always been the same. A sparkling, bright blue. The same eyes that used to put her in her place with a single, acute glance when she would get in his way as far back as she could remember. Kate knew she was staring but couldn’t help herself, and she could feel her nipples instinctively harden and brush against the soft wall of her sweater. She absently ran a hand over her hair and hurried forward to help.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, “Dante! I can’t believe it’s you. Are you ok?” she asked. “Oh my gosh,” she repeated, feeling foolish. “Should I call a doctor? What can I do? Here, put this blanket around you.”
He looked down at her as he took the blanket, and wrapping it around himself he broke into a big smile. She felt herself flush looking up at him and wished she wasn't in her stocking feet. At 6'2" he was tall enough to tower over her. It was making her feel edgy and she was nervous enough thank you.
“Kate. Naughty Kate. What a surprise. Thanks I’m fine. Nothing life threatening. At least I don’t think so. Still wearing that crap around your eyes I see."
Cecil excused himself, and pulling off his coat, left them as he returned it to the closet.
Naughty Kate. Did he seriously just call me that? And my make -up? What about my make-up?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said defensively.
But she did. Kate had been wearing outlandish makeup since she had started high school. Thick black eyeliner accompanied by heavy mascara, and deep, dark, red lipstick. When she fell out of college and decided to try the designer schools, she changed the eyeliner to multi colored layers of eye shadow. The lipstick, however, had remained the same. She knew it made her father absolutely crazy but his displeasure had never been enough of a deterrent to stop her.
“Anyway, your ankle - I mean - listen, I’ve got a hot bath running,” she stammered, completely unnerved. “Can you walk ok?”
“Sure,” he replied, then glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cecil was out of earshot, he whispered, “I’d follow you into a hot bath any day!”
Oh my gosh! I wish you would!
Hoping he couldn't read her thoughts she looked quickly away, but then decided she needed a retort, and without thinking blurted out -
“Well - you’d have to take a number,” and instantly regretted it.
Where did that come from. What a stupid thing to say! Aaarggh! God knows what he must be thinking.
“Everything alright, Dante?” Cecil asked, walking over to help him.
“It’s perfectly alright,” Dante replied, “Our little treasure here is just asking after my injury.”
Our little treasure? Jeez! Am I always going to be just the boss’s daughter?
“I am a treasure,” she quipped, trying to regain her ground, “and I’m glad you realize that.”
“You said something about a bath,” Cecil interjected.
“Yes - in the large guest suite. Follow me,” she said to Dante, still not looking at him and truly grateful for Cecil’s interruption.
“I’ll follow you anywhere princess,” Dante said, facetiously. “Thanks Cecil, I can hobble from here.”
“I’ll find you some dry clothes and leave them outside the door,” Cecil offered, and muttering to himself climbed the stairs towards the family quarters.
Kate turned and walked down the hallway trying to appear in control. It wasn't easy keeping it together. Her heart was still beating much too fast. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked forward and hoped and prayed he liked what he saw, but overheard him chuckling. Kate wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that chuckle. She looked over her shoulder at him and an idea flashed in her head. She decided to try a different tact.
“Are you sure you can manage? Need to lean on me?” she asked in a light lilting voice, a sweet, kind, caring expression on her face. “I feel so bad that you’ve been hurt.”
“Just keep walking, Princess” he said, a wry grin crossing his handsome face.
It didn’t help a bit. His demeanor didn’t change at all and she didn't feel any less unnerved.
When they reached the bathroom they found it filled with steam. Kate stepped in, turned on the overhead fan and leaned over the large tub to turn off the faucets. Behind her Dante was unbuttoning his very wet, red checked shirt, and smiled as he admired her full, round, pert bottom. He was in the final stages of peeling the soaked sleeves off his arms when Kate turned to face him. He flicked his eyes up, though he didn’t mind a bit if she’d seen where his eyes had been cast.
He was shirtless an
d it caught her off guard. His chest was smooth with a smattering of curly black hair, and his washboard stomach and muscled arms were evidence of his physical lifestyle. Not even the jocks she’d dated looked like him. Too late she realized she was staring.
“From climbing trees all day,” he said, winking at her.
She felt a brand new crimson flush move across her face.
“Really!” she exclaimed. “And just why do you climb trees all day?” she replied, thinking it witty comeback, though still feeling completely awkward. It didn’t help that he was so calculating and cool. It was almost as if he had some kind of deep, dark secret.
“I climb trees for many reasons,” he answered calmly. “Today was a favor for your father. One of them may have an issue with a certain kind of bug and I’ve been meaning to get out here and check it for him. Finally got around to it. Does that answer your question?”
“I guess. Seems a bit silly to be climbing trees when a storm is coming,” she commented, thinking it was a very clever thing to say. “I mean - really! Crazy winds and you’re up a tree looking for bugs?”
He shook his head and sighed.
“You’re very pretty,” he said, moving closer, ignoring her comment. “But you’re still the spoiled girl who caused all kinds of mischief. I’ll bet that hasn’t changed a bit. I’ll bet you’re still getting yourself into all kinds of trouble.”
He was very close to her and she could smell him. An incredible combination of a spicy cologne she couldn’t place, and wet hair. It was intoxicating and she was aware of the growing dampness between her legs. She folded her arms in a feeble attempt to hide her prominent stiffened nipples.
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