Taming the Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle

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Taming the Bad Boy Billionaire Bundle Page 34

by Sierra Rose


  The elevator dinged open somewhere beneath me, and before I could even pull myself out of bed—Nick was thundering up the stairs.

  “Well look who’s finally awake!”

  With a mighty leap, he landed in the center of the bed—running shoes and all.

  I covered my eyes with a little groan, as if somehow, the pre-sunrise exercise might rub off on me. “You know, I’ve always hated how cheerful you are in the morning.”

  He bounced the mattress with a little grin.

  “Blame it on boarding school. I never fully got off English time.”

  I pressed a pillow over my face, mumbling sleepily all the while.

  “I blame it on you...”

  A second later, the pillow disappeared. Two sets of fingers clamped down over my wrists, and the next thing I knew, Nick was slinging me over his shoulder—carrying me off to the shower for his post-run rinse.

  “Hey!” I pounded on his lower back, still trying to wake up enough to understand why I was suddenly hanging upside-down. His shirt was damp with sweat, and a delicious sandalwood aroma was drifting off his skin. “Not everyone has to do things according to your damn schedule, Hunter—has anyone ever told you that! It’s six in the fucking morning! I’ll shower when I’m good and ready.”

  He completely ignored me, going about his morning routine with only one hand. Heating up the shower. Brushing his teeth. Every now and then, he would slap my ass for good measure.

  “Hey!” I shrieked again, trying to control my giggling. “This is not funny, Nick! I’m serious—put me down!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he spat out a mouth of peppermint foam, straightening up to grin at me in the mirror, “in just one second.”

  Exactly one second later, he started heading for the shower.

  My muscles stiffened up and I clung to him like some kind of deranged monkey, trying to keep my balance, while trying to break away at the same time.

  “You better not put me in there!” I warned. He didn’t stop moving. “Nick—I’m not kidding! I’m still in my clothes!”

  He opened up the glass door and gave my legs a little squeeze.

  “Don’t worry—so am I.”

  A wall of steam blanketed over us, and I gave it one last good scream.

  “Nick, dooooooon’t!”

  It was too late. Without a care in the world, Nick stepped underneath the streaming jets of water—taking me right along with him. They soaked through my hair, just a second before they soaked through my clothes. My tiny pajamas clung to me in shock, as I coughed and spluttered and laughed—still pounding away at him all the while.

  “Abby,” he swung me upright and lowered me to the floor, looking me up and down with a very serious frown, “do you realize that you’re still wearing clothes?”

  “Oh...you bastard!”

  Even though he’d finally set me down, I jumped on top of him once more. Flying through the air with an enraged little shriek, before scrambling around to get on top of his back.

  “You think it’s funny?!” I demanded, yanking the nozzle off the stand and spraying it directly in his face. My hand groped blindly for the wall dials, and managed to turn the whole thing ice cold. “Well, I think this is funny! How do you like that?!”

  A burst of wet laughter echoed off the tiled walls, as he shielded his face as best he could with me swinging wildly from his shoulders. A second later, the temperature was readjusted and he had wrestled the thing free.

  I slid down with a smug sort of satisfaction. Then promptly began showering as if the whole thing had been my idea all along. Nick watched my progress with a bemused grin, and handed me a bottle of shampoo when asked.

  “You know,” he panted, still a little breathless from the sudden assault, “I’ve never seen this side of you before.”

  “The side of me that would jump on you in the shower?” I repeated with a wry grin, lathering up the sides of my hair. “No, I’m pretty sure that would have been frowned upon back at the office.”

  Like it was being professionally frowned upon right now...

  An image of my shell-shocked office flashed back through my mind. A dozen pairs of wide-eyes staring incredulously back into mine. A hundred or more newspapers scattered across the tables behind them. The way that Allison and Jake had tried to shield me from the worst of it.

  For once, even Harold’s judgement wasn’t an exaggeration.

  I had crossed the line. That hard line, that in my profession, you don’t ever cross. I was literally showering on the other side of it right now.

  “Hey,” he said gently, spinning me around so he could see my eyes.

  The two of us hadn’t talked about the news blitz on our new ‘relationship’ since it had happened yesterday morning. He’d tried to breach the subject back at Barneys, but by that point, I was too wound up to go there myself. Then he’d pulled out that ring, and the rest of the day had promptly fallen to pieces.

  “This is going to be okay—you know that, don’t you?” He bent down so that we were on the same level, looking calmly into my eyes. “In three months, the board is going to be satisfied, my father will surrender that flash-drive, and everything will go back to normal.”

  One: I wasn’t sure I wanted everything to go back to normal.

  And two: I wasn’t sure it ever could.

  “For you, maybe,” I said quietly. A handful of bubbles slid down the side of my face, and my shoulders wilted with a tired sigh. “You can walk away from something like this, Nick, I can’t. I’m a publicist who fucked one of her clients. There’s no coming back from that.”

  For one of the first times since I’d met him, he could think of nothing to say. He simply bowed his head, standing beside me as the water crashed over our heads.

  “I called my father, you know.”

  I looked up in surprise. Yes—Mitchell was the man who had leaked the story just to punish us. He was the man directly responsible for my subsequent career suicide. But at the same time, he was the man who was still holding all the chips. I didn’t think there was a way in hell Nick would cross him now. Not when those photographs were still hanging over our heads.

  “You did?” I asked softly, absolutely stunned by the gesture. “What did you say?”

  A stab of tension tightened all Nick’s features, darkening his eyes as he recounted the tale. “Well I never call him, so on the random occasion that I do—his secretary always puts me directly through. She didn’t this time. Said he was in a meeting, and couldn’t be disturbed. I didn’t believe that...so I went over there myself.”

  Nick Hunter set foot inside the Hunter Corporation? While it might have seemed like a rather natural turn of events—I couldn’t remember the last time it had happened. He avoided the place like the plague. Only ever visiting when forced.

  I couldn’t believe that he would voluntarily go there now.

  “So what happened?” I pressed quietly, trying to keep the tension from my voice.

  Nick let out a sigh just as tired as mine.

  “I threatened to tell the entire company what was happening. Tell them that my own father was blackmailing me into perpetrating a fraud just to secure a merger that shouldn’t be happening in the first place. Said I’d hold a press conference right there in Central Park. The truth would come out. He would be finished.”

  I simply could not imagine a world in which someone said that to Mitchell Hunter’s face.

  “And he didn’t...shoot you or something?” I tried half-heartedly for humor. Anything to lighten the mood. Anything to get that despondent look off Nick’s face. “Have you drawn and quartered? Hauled off in chains?”

  The humor missed the mark. But he flashed me a tight, obliging smile.

  “He simply reaffirmed our original terms. Said that I could hold a press conference if I wished, but that he would still release the pictures. They were still as damming as ever. They would still follow you around for the rest of your days.”

  A belated shiver ran through
his shoulders, and he turned his eyes away.

  “Then he told me to go out and get a ring.”

  And now here we were.

  Trapped inside to avoid the relentless pursuit of the press. Doing our very best to grapple with genuine feelings springing from the worst of circumstances, while at the same time, trying as hard as we could to keep up that glass barrier around us.

  A single tremor, and it could come crashing down. And no matter how hard we tried to out run it, no matter how deep we chose to hide...neither of us was getting away unscathed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, staring up at him. “I’m sorry about...all of it.”

  The very public death of my career wasn’t the only thing the two of us hadn’t talked about. There was another subject, a far darker subject that we had taken great care to avoid.

  Threats and blackmail weren’t the only ways Mitchell had found to hurt his son.

  It was quite possibly the only thing in the world that we had neglected to discuss at dinner the previous night. And after having fallen asleep in the man’s arms, it was quite possibly the single greatest tragedy I could imagine.

  Nick looked away, purposely avoiding my eyes.

  “It’s not your fault. Of all the people involved in this twisted situation, you are the only one—Abby—who is entirely without blame.”

  “That’s not true,” I said fiercely. “You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.”

  He lifted his eyes and gazed down at me—suddenly looking years older than he was. A sad smile played about his lips, and he brushed a cluster of bubbles away from my eyes.

  “That’s a very kind assessment,” he answered softly. “But I’m not sure if it’s true.”

  We took the rest of our shower in silence—our playful mood vanishing in a heartbeat, as suddenly, neither one of us knew what to say. The second we were finished, Nick snapped off the water and handed me a towel.

  I watched out of the corner of my eye, as he dried off quickly and headed to the bedroom to dress for the party. There wasn’t a shred of emotion on his face as he went robotically through the motions. Just the resigned steadiness of a man who had long ago admitted defeat.

  I stepped out of the steam and into the cold with a silent sigh.

  Maybe I had been wrong earlier—when I said that I was the one who could never really walk away. Mitchell wasn’t my father. Maybe it was the other way around.

  Chapter 13

  AS WAS USUAL, NICK only needed a moment or two alone to compose himself. To get that mischievous smile back on his face, and make sure it stayed there—no matter the cost. By the time I joined him in the bedroom, wrapped snugly in a towel, he was already recharged, revitalized, and up to his usual tricks.

  The dress that I had laid out for the party—the white one I’d bought the previous day at Barneys—was nowhere in sight. Its empty hanger hung lonely from the door frame. The sole witness to a crime of fashion committed without remorse.

  I stared at it for a moment, then slowly turned to look at the perpetrator.

  “...Nick?”

  He glanced innocently my way, adjusting his cufflinks all the while.

  “Yes, darling?”

  I pursed my lips.

  “Where’s my dress?”

  A look of theatric confusion creased his handsome brow.

  “Dress?”

  He glanced around for a minute, as if he might spot it himself. Then his face lightened with a look of sudden understanding.

  “Oh, you mean that ugly white thing you had hanging up by the door? Yeah—I threw that away hours ago.”

  Ugly? It was a perfectly normal dress! What the hell was so...wait...WHAT?!

  My mouth dropped open, as my hands flew up in dismay.

  “You threw it away?!” I exclaimed. “It was a twelve hundred dollar dress!”

  He shrugged flippantly.

  “A dress that you happened to steal, and I happened to pay for, if you do recall...”

  But I was in no mood to play games. The party was looming closer and closer, and after our little conversation in the shower, it was clear that the stakes were higher than ever.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” I started pacing back and forth in frustration, trying to come up with a back-up plan on the fly. “The dress wasn’t ugly—it was fine! It was going to be perfect for this damn party, and now I have nothing to—”

  “Hey, hey,” he caught me by the elbow—pulling me to a halt, “relax, alright?” Those blue eyes tried to coax a smile. “I didn’t just throw away the dress...I replaced it with another.”

  It took me a minute to switch gears. Then I saw the long garment bag hanging in the corner. A feeling of instant relief washed through me.

  Withholding my forgiveness until I’d seen the replacement, I walked across the room—not even stopping when Nick ‘accidentally’ caught the edge of my towel, sliding it off to the floor. Well aware that his eyes were fixed upon me, I unzipped the bag and reached inside.

  “Damn,” he said. “You’re simply a vision, an angel from heaven.”

  That made me smile. “You’re too sweet. Thank you.”

  My fingers closed down upon a handful of gauzy silk. The frustration dissipated on the spot, and with sudden care, I pulled out the dress and lay it gently across the bed.

  It was lovely. There was no doubt about it.

  An empire waist with billows of silk and chiffon that cascaded to the floor like an iridescent waterfall. A bodice made of twisted silk ribbons that wound up into delicate straps. A shimmering pattern made of swirling crystals that sent scattered rays of light all over the rest of the room. And even though it was a floor-length gown, the whole thing was light as a feather.

  But considering Nick picked it, there was only one thing I thought was a little strange...

  “Pink?” I asked curiously, shooting him a quizzical stare. “I mean—I love it—don’t get me wrong. But...pink?”

  I had spent the last two years with Nick, and I’d never seen him buy anything pink in his entire life. It was like there was an unofficial ban on it, because even the women he escorted to various events never touched the color.

  Nick liked bold colors. Seductive reds, devilish blacks, shimmering metallics. Pink, was nowhere on the list.

  “Yes, well you see,” he took a step forward, joining me beside the bed, “I’ve recently become quite fond of a certain shade.”

  My eyes flickered back to the dress, lingering on the delicate shade of rose, before returning to him with a question. “A certain shade? What are you talking about?”

  But Nick was never one to talk. He liked to show instead.

  A mischievous grin spread up the side of his face, as we locked eyes. Then, without a moment’s pause, he ran two fingers along his tongue and slid them straight inside of me.

  “Nick!”

  I jumped back with a gasp, but he didn’t pursue. Instead, he gestured to the astonished blush blossoming in my cheeks.

  “That shade.”

  My chest was still panting, and I was having trouble closing my mouth. I thought there was nothing the man could do anymore to surprise me—but there he goes.

  “I can’t...I can’t believe you just...” I stuttered and stammered, trying to catch my breath. “Who would even know that—”

  “I’ll know,” he said unabashedly. “And now I have something to distract and amuse myself with for the rest of the night.”

  With a parting grin, he left me standing there—frozen in a state of absolute shock. Naked and wanting in the middle of the room.

  A FEW HOURS LATER, the two of us were standing hand in hand in the lobby. After my rather interesting explanation for the pink dress, I had self-exiled to my bedroom, locking the door firmly behind me. At that point, I didn’t trust myself to be around Nick for a second longer than I had to, and I most certainly didn’t trust Nick with a damn thing.

  As we waited for the car, ignoring the muted screams and cheers of the pap
arazzi barricaded off safely outside, I fidgeted restlessly by his side. My heart was pounding unevenly in my chest, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my mind off my dress. Not the dress so much...but the damn color.

  Which I happened to know was exactly Nick’s intent.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked innocently, looking down with a calm smile.

  I peered up at him, and forced myself to stop moving.

  “Not in the slightest. Just thinking of ways that I can amuse myself tonight.”

  His lips turned up in a conspiratorial grin.

  “Well I can think of one or two things that we might try—”

  “Alone.” My eyes narrowed, and I offered him a sweet smile. “I’m thinking of ways that I can amuse myself alone.”

  His eyes danced with merriment as he stared me down, hedging his bets.

  “I’d at least like to watch—”

  I smiled. “Nope not happening, Hunter.”

  The car pulled up to the front. He stared after me for a second, and then followed along with a grin.

  “We’ll see about that...”

  I laughed. “You always love a good challenge.”

  He winked and shot me a devilish smile. “And we both know I’ll always come out on top.”

  I chuckled at his pun.

  Chapter 14

  IT WAS A TESTAMENT to how utterly terrifying it was to attend one’s fake engagement party that I ended up forgiving Nick in the car. The two of us gripped each other tightly by the hand as we pulled up to the venue.

  We had showed up strategically late (the way that couples often do), so that the line of over two hundred limos had already cleared by the time we got there. Just a glimpse at Nick’s face through a crack in the window was enough to get us through security, and before I thought it was possible, we were rolling to a stop in front of a red carpet laid out for the occasion.

  “I can’t believe Harold put all of this together so fast,” I murmured, double-checking my purse for the millionth time as we prepared to make our entrance.

  Nick shot a cursory glance outside the window, and adjusted his tie.

 

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