The Complete Bad Boy Billionaire Boxed Set

by Amelia Wilde

  “That’ll be a relief.”

  Jett wraps his arm around my shoulder. “In the meantime, I might need a distraction.”

  I nuzzle into him. “I can help with that.”

  He lifts my chin with one of his fingers and kisses me, this time deeper and softer. “Do you think it’s odd?”

  “The stuff with your accounts? That can’t be normal.”

  “No,” he says, wrinkling his brow. “The fact that a month ago we didn’t know each other at all.”

  I force a satisfied smile onto my face, but my heart is thudding so hard that it feels like it might fly out of my chest and onto the floor of the Town Car. Blood rushes in my ears. It takes two full breaths until I can answer.

  “It’s hard to imagine life without you.”

  The moment the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back in. That’s way too heavy a statement for right now, especially when we’re on the verge of....

  Oh, God. What the fuck am I going to do?

  I turn toward Jett, preparing to play it off like I was teasing, joking, but it’s the damn truth...and then Jett throws me a life preserver.

  “I feel the same way.”

  He says the words, but there’s something reserved in his expression. He’s trying hard to move past whatever is in his head, but either he doesn’t really want to, or he’s just failing.

  “Good,” I say softly, kissing his smooth cheek.

  “Three weeks ago,” he says, almost under his breath, and I shudder involuntarily.

  Jett could find out what I’ve done before I have a chance to tell him, and that would be the worst-case scenario.

  I open my mouth to tell him. I don’t know what I’m going to say. There’s no way to make this seem less bad than it is. Do I start by telling him that I’ve fallen for him, hard? Do I start by telling him about how the guilt keeps me awake at night? That I’m doing all of this because I’m afraid my brother—and now my mom—might get hurt?

  I know where they are, and you know what I’ll do.

  I close my mouth again.

  I know I’m being a coward. I know it.

  I take a breath.

  Say it, Angelica.

  “Something on your mind?” Jett says.

  Elsie, where your mother lives. Your brother’s visiting her right now.

  I want to tell him so badly that it hurts.

  I want him to think the best of me so badly that I can’t.

  I want my mother and my brother to be safe....

  “No,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “Just another long day.”

  And every time I lie to you, it gets worse.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jett

  For the first time since she arrived, Angelica and I have an off night.

  Not “off,” per se, but...quiet. A little strained.

  Her boss must be pushing her, still, and I can’t stop thinking about what Cook said. Three weeks ago, three weeks ago....

  I look at Angelica, curled up in one of the massive armchairs in the living room, nose buried in a first edition of Through the Looking-Glass.

  None of this can have anything to do with her.

  Can it?

  I think about the first time I saw her in the elevator. I’ve never asked her about who lives on the eighth floor, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. People deliver things here all the time. It would be a bizarre move to start questioning her about that now.

  “Is it good?”

  She looks up at me and grins tiredly. “It was one of my favorites as a kid. I don’t know if I love it as much now.”

  “Lewis Carroll was a weird bastard.”

  She laughs out loud, closing the book. “Yeah. That’s about right.”

  “I have a different idea.”

  “What’s that?” Angelica glances toward my office, which is where I also keep a small portion of my book collection. I’ve never read most of them.

  “It doesn’t have to do with reading.”

  Angelica unfolds herself from the chair and stands up to her full height, stretching her arms above her head. I take the opportunity to cross the room and slide my hands over her waist, feeling her body work and turn. She drops her arms around my neck and kisses me just below my jaw.

  “I bet I can guess what your idea is.”

  “Is that so?” I bend down and nip at her earlobe.

  “Yes. In fact....” She leans up like she’s going to whisper something dirty in my ear. “Race you!”

  Then she’s tearing through the penthouse, feet soft on the carpet. I stay close on her heels and catch her right inside the doorway to the master suite, letting the momentum carry us both onto the bed, her laughing and gasping and fumbling for my face to draw it in and kiss my lips so hard I think one might bleed, and in between kisses she says,

  “It feels so good to be caught.”

  That moment is on my mind all day at work on Wednesday—Angelica, pink cheeks and laughter that turned to sex as if it was meant to be. The memory battles for supremacy with the ongoing thought of wanting to resolve this shit with my accounts as soon as possible.

  That’s what I’m going to do the second we get back to the penthouse—take twenty minutes in my office and go over everything with Cook one more time. There has to be something he’s missing...or maybe he hasn’t found it yet. Either way, I want to know.

  I’m damn thrilled to see Angelica when Stuart pulls the car up to the curb outside the Sisterspark offices. For the millionth time, I scoff inwardly at the name of that website. No wonder they’re losing ad revenue.

  But those thoughts are body-checked by her presence on the sidewalk. I hop out of the car before Stuart can even move and hold the door open for her. She slides in, and the moment I have the door shut she’s kissing the side of my neck, breathing me in.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, sweet thing.”

  There’s a little bit of a wild look in her eyes. Lust or nervousness? It’s hard to pin down.

  Then Angelica does something she’s never done with me in the car.

  “Stuart,” she says, her voice strong and clear. “There’s somewhere I need you to take us.” She rattles off an address in Chinatown. When she turns back to me, her eyes are sparkling but her smile isn’t all there.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I tease, and she gives a little shrug.

  Stuart pulls away from the curb. I can see his half-smile in the rearview mirror.

  Angelica digs into her purse and pulls out a length of deep purple fabric. “Avert your eyes.”

  “Not a chance.”

  While Stuart navigates the traffic she strips off her skirt and blouse and tugs the dress, which turns out to be skintight and gorgeous, over her head.

  “Let me help.”

  She gets a wicked look in her eyes and throws one knee across my lap, straddling me while I struggle to focus on tugging the fabric over her perfect hips. “Damn,” I say softly when I’ve finished. Angelica stops kissing the side of my neck and rolls back to her side of the car.

  “Come back here.” I try to tug her back onto my lap, but she resists playfully.

  “Not before our date.”

  “Our date?”

  “I planned a date for us.” Her eyes are wide and hopeful. “I wanted to give you a nice time.”

  I can’t wipe the silly grin off my face. I can’t tell you the last time a woman took me out and did all the planning and didn’t rest on my damn laurels to do it. “You don’t owe me a nice time.”

  “Yeah, I totally do,” she says, and kisses me on the lips for so long that the next thing I’m aware of is the car pulling up and stopping next to the curb. She breaks away, and for an instant I see an expression halfway between disappointment and fear flicker across her face.

  Then her smile is back. She steps out onto the sidewalk, taking my hand as soon as I’m next to her, and tugs on it a little.

  “Dinner first,” she says,
and we climb down the stairs and into a basement Italian restaurant that I’ve heard about but never visited. It’s a tiny hole in the wall, but every table is jammed with people. There’s one remaining. The hostess takes us to it without delay.

  “Wow,” I say, and Angelica beams. “Are you sure this isn’t some kind of sorry dinner?”

  It’s a joke, but the dark look that crosses Angelica’s face just before she laughs starts a drumbeat in my head.

  Something’s up.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Angelica

  I can’t take Adam’s call when it comes in. Hadley is literally standing over my shoulder when my phone starts buzzing inside my purse in the desk drawer. She steps away, head cocked, listening.

  “Is that yours?”

  “I think so, Hadley.”

  “Well, turn it off,” she says, tapping her foot against the carpet. While I open the desk drawer and fumble in my purse for the phone, she grumbles under her breath, “Common courtesy in the workplace. It’s not much to ask.”

  The second she retreats back into her office to ruin more lives—or whatever it is she does in there when she’s not making sure that all of my work is in tip-top shape—I reach back into the drawer to check my messages.

  Sure enough, there’s a text from Adam, as well as a missed call.

  Call me.

  I shake my head, the tension rising in my shoulders. He could leave a voicemail for once in his life.

  Then a lump comes to my throat. I haven’t talked to him since that hasty conversation we had when I was in the Hamptons. He’s probably on edge as much as I am.

  I wait until it’s just late enough to justify a lunch break, then take the elevator down to the lobby. After the frigid cool of the air conditioning, the summer heat is almost painfully pleasant on my skin. There’s no sign of anyone shady lurking outside, so I start walking down the block and call Adam.

  “Hey. Sorry I couldn’t call back sooner.”

  “It’s okay, Angie.”

  “Did something happen?” My heart pounds in the moment of silence before he answers.

  “No...but I’m worried about my place.”

  I try a joke. “What, you didn’t lock up when you left?”

  His laugh is dry, bitter. “I locked up. But it’s no guarantee that....” His voice trails off, and then he tries again. “Could you just check on it, make sure nothing’s happened? The rent is paid, but it’s going to be a real pain in the ass if somebody breaks in and takes all my stuff.”

  I roll my eyes. Adam’s Xbox is probably the only thing in there that would be worth anything. “You realize it will also be a pain in the ass for me to go to Brooklyn.”

  “I know.”

  My heart softens. I’m still pissed the hell off that Adam dragged me into this situation, but we’ve been through too much together for me to just abandon him. It almost never comes to mind when I’m awake in the middle of the night, even though telling him to fend for himself would definitely be the best option for me. “Okay. I’ll head over there after work and let you know how it goes.”

  I bask in the sun for another five minutes, then head back into the office.

  There’s nothing to do but work furiously until five o’clock, when I can probably sneak away...if everything is done.

  Hadley sequesters herself for the rest of the workday, which is a damn blessing. I glue my eyes to the computer screen and type at an incredible pace until every task in her system has the little white checkbox next to it filled.

  At five o’clock sharp, she’s still holed up behind her door, so I throw together a summary email and leave the office before she has a chance to ask me questions about it.

  My heart rate goes up during the cab ride to Sunset Park. At least this time Adam’s not in imminent danger—all I need to do is make sure his apartment is intact, and then I can head right back to the safety of Jett’s apartment.

  Jett....

  Time is running out for me to tell him, a thought that makes my stomach knot up. It’s just that every time I try to think about the right words, nothing comes to me. My mind draws a blank.

  The truth is that there’s no way to say this to him without losing him.

  And I desperately want to keep him.

  At long last, the cab driver deposits me a block away from Adam’s place.

  “Wait for me?” I press a twenty into his hand, and he gives me a surly nod and turns the radio up.

  The sidewalk is clear as I start down the block except for a mom pushing her baby in a stroller. I smile at the baby’s chunky legs. A little of the strain in my shoulders dissipates in the sunlight.

  Until I get closer.

  The sidewalk isn’t clear after all.

  The man standing there jogs my memory, but it takes a good thirty seconds to remember where I saw him last.

  On the way to the police station.

  He’s still got a CD case in his hands, and as he walks back and forth in front of the door to Adam’s building apartment, he spins it in his fingers, slaps it against his leg.

  Charlie has eyes everywhere, and he clearly hasn’t given up on taking Adam for everything he’s worth.

  My blood runs cold in my veins, but I don’t want to make a scene. He hasn’t seen me yet. So I turn toward one of the shops nearby and pretend to look in the window, then slowly turn back. I just want to get to the cab....

  My phone rings in my purse, and I grab it and answer it without looking. Jesus, Adam, have some patience.

  “Yeah?”

  “Angelica.”

  Jett.

  “Are you coming down?”

  Shit.

  “I had to check on something—I’m in Brooklyn right now, actually.”

  “What’s in Brooklyn?”

  “My brother’s apartment.”

  Jett takes a beat to answer. “Is he all right?”

  “I didn’t talk to him.” That’s as much of the truth as I can offer. “I guess he left yesterday to go visit home. He wanted me to check on his place.”

  “Do you want me to come get you?”

  “No,” I say, climbing back into the cab, moving slowly and carefully, trying my damnedest not to draw any attention. “I’m in the cab right now.”

  “Good,” he says, and then lingers in the pause like he wants to say something else. “Come home. I miss you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jett

  This business about Angelica’s brother seems to have cropped up out of nowhere, and something about it needles at my mind.

  I have Stuart drop me off at the penthouse, then send him off to a place down the block to pick up dinner. Rush hour traffic is going to make for a long trip back from Brooklyn. She’s got to be starving, and I want to know more about her brother.

  We never got around to talking about it after I surprised her the other night as she was sneaking in the door.

  Angelica comes through the door fifty minutes later, shoulders slumped, face pink from the heat.

  “Hi, sweet thing.”

  “Hey,” she says, kicking off her shoes and dropping her purse on the table in the foyer. Then she gives a little sigh.

  “Glad to be back?”

  “Glad your air conditioning never fails.”

  I shrug. “If it did, I’d go to another one of my places. Are you hungry?”

  Angelica brightens. I was right. “Do you have food?”

  I laugh at that. “Twenty-four hours a day, and I have a personal chef on standby. Do you want to stand around talking about what’s in the pantry or do you want to eat?”

  “Eat,” she says, and makes a beeline for the breakfast nook. I’ve laid out an impressive array of sushi and chicken katsu. It’s not quite Sasabune caliber, but Angelica doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. She fills her plate and digs in.

  We eat in silence for a few minutes.

  “Tell me more about your brother.” There’s no point in skirting the issue.

 
Angelica stops with a forkful of chicken katsu halfway to her mouth and looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “What about him?”

  “I’m guessing you’re close.”

  “You could say that.” She draws the bite off her fork with her teeth, chews, swallows.

  “You took care of him growing up, right?”

  “Yeah, I did.” She sips at the plum wine I had brought up to go with the meal, then leans back in her seat. “Why are you interested?”

  I follow her lead, putting down my fork.

  “He’s come up a lot lately. And now that we’re....” I make a gesture indicating the space between us. “I thought I should learn more about him. Things seem to be a little rough lately.”

  “He’ll be fine. He always makes it through.”

  Angelica looks out at the skyline.

  “You’re older, right?”

  “By three years.” She leans over her plate again, then spears a piece of sushi with her fork, dips it delicately in the soy sauce, and puts it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she lets it linger on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.

  My cock twitches inside my boxers.

  “Does he plan to be out of the city for a long time?”

  “I don’t know,” Angelica says, her brow furrowed. “He didn’t tell me exactly how long his visit was going to be.” She eats another section of the sushi roll, then looks into my eyes. “Really, Jett, why do you want to know all this?”

  “I want to know about you. And lately you’ve been pretty focused on your brother, so it’s been on my mind.” I take a stab in the dark. “You don’t have to be embarrassed if he’s got...other issues.”

  “Other issues like what?” Angelica’s eyes flash. “He’s not some kind of drug addict, if that’s what you’re saying.” Her tone is spiked with anger, but a different expression altogether flickers through her aqua blue eyes. It looks like fear.

  I give her a little nod, conceding. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help....”