The Billionaire's Heart (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 1)
Page 6
My chin lifts and we stare at each other., the room heating up around us. She blinks once and I’m out of my chair, pulling her from hers without another word. Our lips crush together, and our fingers do their work. Hers loosen my tie and attack the buttons on my shirt, while mine slide her skirt up and pull her underwear to the side. I’m thankful she’s not wearing stockings. I spin around and shove paper off the side of my desk, lifting her knees at the same time that her hands drop to my belt. We kiss the entire time, until fabric pools around my ankles and a second later I’m buried inside her.
Kendra leans back and I push deeper, her legs wrapping tightly around me. I slide my hand inside her jacket and yank her bra down, my fingers seeking the soft peak that will respond so well to my touch. She moans into my mouth and I join her, thrusting, her folds holding me tight.
We’re done too soon, her soft cry drowned in my louder shout, our mouths moving against each other, biting and tasting, as our hips crush together in a final release. I hold her against me, not wanting to let go, needing more from her.
I want every part of her. Want to stamp my name on her skin. Want to share every part of me. Every idiosyncrasy, every secret.
I only have one big secret, but do I want to share that with her so early? I’m convinced she’s the one for me, but is she convinced? What else do I need to do to make her take a chance on us for the future?
KENDRA
Lunch with Jacqueline is not nearly as awful as I expected. For one, she’s strangely compliant, almost like she wants us to be friends. The thought is comforting, though a little scary. I’d like to be on speaking terms with Sayer’s mother, but I don’t want to be sharing our secrets like girlfriends. Secrets like what just happened upstairs in his office.
Our food arrives before she raises the point of today’s meetup.
“So, Kendra. I wanted to apologize for the other day at the club. I was shocked to see you with Sayer, and obviously so intimate. I had no idea you were interested in him like that.”
“I was.” I choke a little. “I am. I’ve felt this way since our trip to China, which is why I resigned.”
“I guess I should be impressed that you chose to leave instead of making your feelings known. Many women would not do that.” She purses her lips and looks like she swallowed something bad. “I guess he took it as a green light.”
“He told me he’s been interested in me for years.” I can’t resist telling her this. “Maybe it was our time.”
“Maybe.”
She clicks her fingers and motions the waiter for more wine. When he appears with the bottle, I cover my glass with my hand. “Not for me. I have to go back to work.”
Jacqueline is watching me, but I have no idea if I’m making the right impression. I don’t care that much, but I also don’t want to make my life difficult if I’m going to be around her more. I chew my chicken, wondering if I should tell her that I know about her husband. She beats me to it, though.
“I’m sure it’s unusual to be having this talk.”
I laugh. “Yes. I haven’t had to justify myself to a prospective boyfriend’s mother before. That torture usually comes much later in the relationship.” My hand shoots to my mouth, my eyes wide. “Ooh, sorry!”
It’s her turn to laugh and she nods at me. “I know what you mean. It’s odd, but have you dated someone with Sayer’s lifestyle before?”
“His lifestyle?” Oh no. What does she mean? Is there something kinky I’m yet to learn about him? Surely after three days spent between the sheets, I’d have seen a sign if he’s hiding something?
“I mean his wealth, dear.” I don’t laugh in her face as she makes this announcement. I want to, though. I so want to. She uses her most serious voice, as though his bank account is the most important part of being with a man. She’s blunt, I’ll give her that. The only way to be more direct would be to come right out and ask me if I’m a gold digger. Which I’m not. Lucky for her.
“Oh, that.” I wave my hand and finish my wine. “It’s not something I’ve thought about. And, no I haven’t dated anyone with that kind of lifestyle.” She opens her mouth, but I continue, “I have experienced it with him for three years, though. I’m aware of how people can sometimes behave when they have more money than god, and my eyes are open going into this. If you’re worried about protecting his fortune, I’ll happily sign a prenup.”
Now she does choke, for real, and I shove her drink toward her. “Are we at that stage already? Marriage?” Her voice ends on a high pitched squeal and I want to roll around laughing at her expression. If only Sayer were here to see this.
“I guess you should ask him that. I’m definitely not, I guarantee you.”
Jacqueline turns serious, seizing my hand and leaning forward to stare into my eyes. “Promise me you won’t elope.”
I give a belly laugh that I just can’t hold in. “What? No! I promise.”
She releases my fingers and picks up her cutlery, again. “Thank goodness. In return I promise not to be an ogre with wedding planning when the time comes. I want him to be happy. I want him to choose his own bride and know in his heart it’s right for him. What I don’t want,” she scowls as she says the next words, “is to be the mummy-dearest who pushes him into something, so that he decides he has to cheat to be happy.”
I don’t dare let on that I’m aware she’s referring to her own marriage, but we both know that’s what she means. We reach neutral territory when our conversation moves to my family and what I like to do in my spare time. I relent and try to give her a glimpse into my own life.
My apartment didn’t mortgage itself. My car wasn’t given to me by a sugar daddy. I got myself a job at an amazing law firm without needing Sayer for a reference. When lunch is finished, she’s calmer, and I consider how we might get through this without hating each other.
What more can a personal assistant who’s being pursued by her millionaire boss expect from his interfering mother? I guess the promise to be the perfect wedding assistant at some time in the distant future, and the reassurance she doesn’t want him to fuck his next secretary, is a good start.
Chapter Eighteen - Kendra
Sayer hands me a glass of champagne, his eyes roving over my face. He’s turned so serious since I returned from lunch that I can’t help but wonder what’s changed. Did Jacqueline play nice to my face then call him and make trouble? Or is it something else?
Instead of waiting for disaster to fall on my shoulders, I dive head first into my questions. “What’s the occasion?”
“The evening spent in the presence of my favourite beautiful woman isn’t cause for champagne?” He tips the glass toward me and then takes a sip. It makes a scraping sound on the ornate coffee table when he puts it down. When he settles himself, I search his eyes, trying to decide where I should start the speech I have prepared.
“I’m not sure it is.” I put my own glass down, untouched. I need a clear head for this conversation. It’s bad enough that he can distract me with those eyes. “I need to tell you some things.”
A sardonic eyebrow lifts. “Really?”
“Really. No secrets, remember? Though I can’t even remember when that became our motto, can you? Why wouldn’t there be secrets between an employee and her boss?”
“It was when I dated that princess.” He laughs as I nod. “You thought I’d been kidnapped by pirates when I was overdue coming home from wherever we were.”
“You don’t even know where you were to this day! I had reason to worry. Most of all because I was going to have to call your mother and alert her.”
We both laugh and he settles against the couch, his arm along the back, his fingers inches from touching me. “So, spill.”
My mouth is dry. I’m not looking forward to disappointing him. He’s watching me like he wants to lick me all over and some traitorous part of me wants to shut up and let him do it. He needs to understand where I stand before we go any further down this path, though. I don’t want
any shocks later.
“You never asked me about my new job.”
“I didn’t. I’d hoped to change your mind.”
“Well, you need to know. I’ll be working for Wallace & Stone.”
“Lawyers?” His face shows the surprise I knew it would. “As assistant to who? Wallace? I hate that guy.”
I smirk. “I’m well aware that you don’t like Wallace. I won’t be an assistant, though. I’ll be second-in-charge for their acquisitions team. Rustling up business. Luring clients away from other firms.”
“Well, you’re very alluring. You’ll be great.” He smiles and my insides heat up. I have so much to get through before I can give in to that look.
“There’s more. I need you to stop talking about our future and the Mr. & Mrs. stuff.”
“I heard you shouldn’t use that word too often. Stuff.” He’s laughing at me and his hand moves to touch my hair, before I slide forward on the couch, annoyed.
“You think this is funny, but I need you to hear me.” I scowl and stand up, peering out the window, then swinging around to face him. I have his attention, at least. “I like you. A lot.” I roll my eyes when he takes his turn to smirk. “More than a lot. But it freaks me out to hear a millionaire talking about me planning his future, buying houses with his money, joining his social circle, and all the rest. Today I deflected your mother, but we discussed a prenup, and I’m having a mild panic over it all.”
“Billionaire.”
“What?” I blink, unsure what he said.
“I’m not a millionaire. I’m a billionaire. There’s a subtle distinction.”
I stare at him. “It’s more than a subtle distinction, according to the law of math, and it doesn’t make me feel better for you to joke about this.” I grimace, a low groan slipping through my lips. “That’s why your mother raised the topic of money.”
“She did? How did that go?”
“I made some off-hand comment and waved my hand at her like I knew everything.” I close my eyes, trying to forget how confident I was over lunch. “Then I said I was happy to sign a prenup.”
Sayer lets out a burst of laughter, then he stands and moves toward me, his face calm. I step backward, wanting to finish this conversation before we peel off our clothes. Again. When my body touches the glass of the enormous windows I gazed out of a few nights ago, he places his hands either side of my head.
“My turn.” I gulp. His lips hover near mine and when he speaks, I can taste his minty breath. “I mean it about the billionaire stuff.” He gives me a smile when he says that word. “It’s my one true secret, and now you know it.”
I frown. “I don’t want your big secret. We’ve only been intimate for a few days. This is something you reveal when you’re certain about someone.” My words are almost a whisper and I look down, dazed, as he uses one hand to fiddle with the top button of my shirt.
“I am certain. I wouldn’t share with you if I wasn’t.” His fingers are making progress and he begins on the second button. “I want every part of you. No matter who you work for, whether you choose to be a stay-at-home-parent once you have my babies—” I protest but he shushes me with a brush of his lips. “If you decide you don’t want kids. No matter what decisions you make, I want you. I want to marry you. Not today. Not in a week. But I want you to understand that I’m not like my father. I make plans well into the future, and if you’ll agree to be part of them, that’s what I’ll be working toward. I won’t hurt you. I won’t be unfaithful.” Another button opens and his hand moves lower. “My dreams are sweeter now that you’re in them.”
His words tie me in knots, while his fingers undo them. “Don’t misunderstand. If it’s meant for us, I want all that, too. With you.” I allow myself a tiny kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I want children. I want to be married. I want a life full of fun and intimacy and someone to come home to. I also want you to recognize that those things don’t happen overnight. We need time to get to know each other this way. I want to be sure before I start making plans to expect a diamond. You’re rushing me and it’s too much. I want to build a career and achieve my own goals as well as support you in yours. I don’t want to be that woman who gets caught up in the romance and forgets her head.” I’m doing what I dread right now. My eyes have closed, and my fingers are curling behind his neck, as he pushes my shirt open. He kisses down my chest and pulls my bra forward, his lips seeking to please me. He sucks gently and I sigh, my need for him pooling between my legs.
We should have had this conversation over the phone.
Two hours later I’m stretched across his bed, satiated but still burdened by my thoughts. Sayer leaves the room with a finger motion for me to stay where I am. He reappears carrying the champagne and hands me a glass as I roll onto my side. He joins me on the bed, facing me, then he smiles at me, his eyes sparkling as much as the bubbles. “I’m glad I told you about the money. It’s hard keeping a secret.” He clinks his glass to mine and we both take a sip. “I heard everything you said earlier. I want what you want.”
“Can we take it slow? To be sure this isn’t lust clouding our brains?”
He laughs. “I can do that. I won’t change my mind, though.”
“In this moment I’m sure in my heart that I won’t either, but I want us to be adults about it, instead of acting like teenagers.” He nods and the weight I’ve been carrying lifts from my shoulders. It’s a lovely change and I roll onto my back, resting my glass on my ribcage. “Can I ask what bet you had with Danny about your Valentine’s Day date? I’m curious why Miss-Sable-Coat was some kind of prize.”
Sayer laughs and crawls across the bed. He lays his head on my belly and looks at me, his eyes full of humour. “She wasn’t the prize. The prize is a holiday to the Maldives at the end of the year. We’re all going for New Year’s and whoever loses the bet has to pay for the trip for the rest of us. Anyone who didn’t even have a date on their designated weekend has to chip in for the alcohol bill for the holiday.”
“Oh.” I’m relieved they aren’t betting on who can bed the most women, or something equally awful. “When you say you’re all going, who do you mean?”
“Can you keep another secret?” He grins at me, his hair poking out the side of his head where his hand was resting earlier.
“There’s more? You billionaire-types are full of surprises. Yes, I can keep another secret.”
“Good, because these secrets aren’t mine to tell.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s nine of us.”
“Nine friends?”
“Nine billionaire friends. Somehow, through good management, or pure luck, we’ve managed to stay out of notice of those who create the rich-lists every year. It turns out, those lists aren’t super accurate. We keep our lifestyles as discrete as we can by owning assets through trusts and various shell companies.
“And you keep a low profile in public, besides the odd social outing.” I run my hand along his chin, thinking about how he doesn’t enjoy the spotlight. “So, are you all in the media?”
“Nope. We each have our way we came to be in the club.” He laughs before he says, “Danny named us The Secret Billionaire’s Club years ago. It’s become a giant game for us to keep it going as long as possible. He wants to trademark the name for a laugh.”
I sit up, and my champagne spills onto his forehead. We both laugh and Sayer uses the sheet to mop up the spill. “Wait. Danny is a billionaire? Danny Griffin, who hasn’t had a haircut in a year and always wears mismatched socks? That Danny?”
“The same. Now you know what I mean about us keeping a low profile.”
I lay back, shocked. “Wow.” Then a thought occurs to me. “Have I met any of the others?”
“You have.” He laughs as I gasp. “Want to guess?”
“No, but I hope that awful Rodney from the restaurant isn’t one of them.”
He growls and I grin to myself. “He wouldn’t survive three seconds around us.” He sits up and counts on his fingers. “So,
there’s Danny, Sam, Kent and Cole. They met one year at the Grand Prix in the private box. Had too many drinks and somehow kept in touch afterward.”
“Cole Grant, the actor who sometimes calls your office?”
“Yes. Then there’s Merek, Wyatt, Cross, Me and Everett. We went to the same school here in Melbourne. I’m convinced there are others but we’re not looking to add to the club. Oh, Everett isn’t officially one of us. He has to marry to inherit from his grandfather who passed away four years ago.”
“No wife in four years? What’s wrong with him?”
Sayer laughs. “Nothing. He refuses to marry for money. He never gets serious about anyone, and I mean never. He’s risk averse; a typical army guy.”
“Wow.” I consider how hard it must be to avoid getting attached. Ever. “It’s kind of odd for it to be a club.”
“Yeah. It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t met when we were young and stupid, before most of us had real money.”
I stare at the ceiling. “Your secret won’t last forever.”
He sighs. “I know. One day we’ll have to deal with it.”
“Isn’t your dad a billionaire?”
“He is and look how he lives. He keeps a mistress and a child in an apartment in Sydney. When that came out in the press my mother was devastated. That’s not what I want.”
“Won’t you inherit?”
“Part of it, I guess.” He pauses. “Oh, I see what you mean. Then all eyes will be on me to try to work out if I should be 47th on the rich list, or number 92.”
“Something like that.” I take his hand and look at him, and he looks genuinely upset at the idea of people trolling through his finances. “I’m sure it’s a long way off.”
“Yep. Anyway,” he talks in a loud voice, and makes a big show of rolling over and sliding on top of me. “That’s my secret out and shared.”
“You had eight others to share with.”
“Yes, but it’s different now. Like the game got better because now there’s two of us to keep it on lockdown. I promise, keeping this secret is the only thing I’ll ask of you that you might not want to do. Do you think you can keep it between us?” He kisses my eyelids, then makes his way toward my mouth where he hovers near my lips, teasing me until I answer.