The Billionaire Possession Series: The Complete Boxed Set

by Amelia Wilde

  “Don’t I know it.” A sentimental expression comes over his face.

  I raise my eyebrows. “You’re still that head over heels?” Jasper was not one to get sentimental about women when we were in college together. Then he went and cried at his wedding, tears slipping down his cheeks.

  He leans in. “Have you seen my wife? I’m still head over heels.”

  I look toward the ceiling, pretending to rein in a mild disgust. “This is—this is all too much, Jasper. Let’s get back to the original topic.”

  “Your sexual interest in these vases?”

  I put an arm around his shoulders and steer him in the opposite direction. “Your mind is in the gutter, my friend. Luckily, I’ve been thinking about business, so I’ve come up with the perfect piece for you.”

  Forty-five minutes later—Jasper never decides anything quickly—he’s paying for some sketches of pendant designs by one of the Renaissance greats—jewelry that was ultimately worn by the cream of the crop and even royalty. “Where is she, by the way?” I lean against the polished mahogany counter while Clarissa wraps up the sketches in their protective case.

  “Isabella?” Jasper signs the slip and pushes it across the counter toward Clarissa. “She’s home.” There’s a wicked glint in his eye.

  “As long as she’s not at work on a Saturday.”

  “You’re at work on a Saturday. Since when do you personally assist clients in choosing pieces?”

  I give him a look. “Since always.” Although lately I’ve been spending more time in the warehouse, sifting through shipments from estate sales. Clarissa is always shaking her head when she finds me in there, but what the hell is the point of running your own business if you can’t do the parts you like? Yes, there’s a certain thrill in strolling into an estate sale and taking the whole thing, a certain cold lust that runs through my veins when I pull it off, but I like to get my hands dirty.

  In a sense.

  “I’m back from an estate sale. I was on my way to the warehouse and got…caught up in a few things down here.”

  Jasper nods. “How’d it go?”

  “Terrible. The representative rejected me.”

  Jasper faux-gasps. “Who would ever reject the callous and unfeeling Levi Blake, notorious dealmaker and haggler?”

  Jasper should talk, but now more images of Ruby are flashing through my mind, one by one, still pictures of her lips, the curve of her waist, those blue eyes aching for… “Ruby Ashworth. Of the Conyers Farm Ashworths.”

  He narrows his eyes. “I’ve heard that name. Frank Ashworth was big into biotech?”

  “Yeah. The company went under. A scandal. And then the son had some kind of accident—I don’t know many details. I went to the sale.”

  “Ruby’s the wife?”

  “Ruby’s the daughter.”

  Jasper’s eyes crinkle in a conspiratorial smile. “What’s she like? Obviously savvy enough to reject you.”

  “She’s…” God, why can’t I think of her without every inch of me aching to get back to that house, to get back to her? “She’s something else.”

  Jasper nods, looking me in the eye. “Sounds like she’s worth the chase.”

  5

  Ruby

  I’m trapped, suffocating, and I can’t get out. I can’t get out...

  “Shit!” I shout the word into the pitch-dark of my own apartment, struggling to untangle myself from the comforter. It’s caught over my face like it’s being held there by invisible hands, and I can’t get it off, I can’t get it off—

  Finally, with one last violent tug, it comes free. I jump out of the bed, anxious for space, and stub my toe on the narrow desk that’s wedged between the bed and the wall, not enough room for a chair between them. The pain, sharp and pure, sends me tumbling back onto the bed, clutching my toe.

  “Fuck.” At least this time it’s muffled by the pillow.

  I grit my teeth, waiting for the pain to subside, holding onto that toe for dear life. It seems like a thousand years before it recedes, but my heart still races.

  My toe wouldn’t be throbbing if I hadn’t taken things to this extreme. I could have rented a slightly bigger place, dipped into my savings a little—but no. No, I can’t afford to do that now.

  I sit up and flick on the lamp on my even tinier bedside table, bathing the room in its warm yellow glow. My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t know what time it is. All I know is that I’ve made a horrible mistake.

  I came back to the city, back to my postage stamp of an apartment, and gorged myself on takeout Chinese until I’d successfully numbed the failure of the estate sale. And then, like any powerful, self-possessed woman, I’d climbed into bed fully dressed and fallen asleep.

  Shit. Shit.

  I grab for my phone, wrenching it off the charger. It’s three in the morning, and I’m wide awake.

  There’s a single text message from my mother. It came in a little after eleven.

  How’d things go?

  I never answered.

  I never called, and I never sent a reply, because I was too chickenshit to call and too full of Chinese food to stay awake long enough to get that text.

  I’ve made a horrible mistake.

  My heartbeat is so loud it drowns out the shouts from outside. In this neighborhood, it’s relatively quiet during the day, but at night there’s always some degree of…general unrest, I guess. I never know what people are shouting about.

  All I can think about right now is Levi Blake.

  I throw my hands up above my head in frustration. All that food wasn’t enough to erase the memory of his gray eyes burning into mine, the way his suit jacket hugged muscular shoulders, the way he smelled, clean and sexy with a hint of spice...

  Heat rushes to my cheeks, and then ricochets down between my legs. Here I am, sick to my stomach at the thought of letting my family down and fantasizing about the man who embarrassed me at our estate sale. At least in the privacy of my own apartment I can admit that he was gorgeous. He was so hot. And if it had been anywhere else, at any other time, I might have flirted with him a little, talked to him, tried to stay by his side...

  If we were alone he could wrap those powerful arms around me and sweep me off my feet, taking me to a bed or, who the hell cares, even the floor. I wouldn’t be able to struggle in those arms. I wouldn’t want to. I’d want him to take control. I’d want him to spread my legs wide with those hands of his and force me to look into his eyes while he dipped his finger into my folds, rubbing my clit until—

  I slip my own hand down between my legs, shoving past my pants and underneath my panties. As soon as my own fingertips make contact with my already swollen clit the muscles in my shoulders relax. A man like Levi Blake would want me open for him, exposed to him, so that the lightning in his eyes could settle on my most private skin, making it his—

  I want it so badly that I can’t hold back. It’s a furious attempt to wipe away the last of the pain from my foot and the rest of the panic from my chest, and my fingers are slick with my own juices when I come a moment later, hips jerking away from the surface of the bed. I ride the wave as long as I can, then turn over onto my side, catching my breath.

  What a bastard. Levi Blake is nothing but—

  I sit bolt upright in the bed, my heart in my throat.

  Oh, my god.

  Levi Blake is the solution. The mortifying, sexy, arrogant solution I never wanted.

  But he’s the only option I’ve got.

  I’ve got to go back and get that card. And call Levi Blake.

  I don’t want to—Jesus, it’s going to be embarrassing—but he’s my best option for a solution right now, and we need one. After that disaster of an estate sale, there’s no other solution. At least, there’s not a solution that won’t take another few weeks to put into play.

  I made this mess, and now I’m going to clean it up.

  I won’t be able to stand looking up Levi Blake’s offices on the internet and dialing through
some receptionist. I’d have to explain who I am, what I’m calling about. The number on that card—private, unlisted, unavailable to everyone else—that’s the one I need.

  This can’t wait until Monday.

  I shove myself off the end of the bed and strip off my clothes, dropping them to the floor next to my dresser. Yoga pants and a hoodie will do—they’re clean, at least—and while I get dressed I call a car, cursing myself for not putting that stupid little card into my purse. It’s an hour there and an hour back.

  Shit. Was the cleaning staff going to come after the sale?

  I take the stairs down to the lobby two at a time, praying fervently that they’re not going to show up until tomorrow.

  The car is waiting outside, and I throw myself in, giving the address in the same breath.

  The driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror. “That’s going to be a hefty—”

  “I know. I’ll pay now, if you want.” There’s a scanner in the back seat, and I’m already reaching for my card.

  “No, that’s fine, miss.” He steers the car away from the curb. As we drive past the building two doors down, I see what the shouting was about. It’s a big party, people dancing on the stoop.

  I don’t have time to think of them for long, because Levi Blake is back at the forefront of my thoughts. What if he doesn’t take my call? What if he laughs at me, and I have to explain to my parents that I’m the one who royally screwed up the estate sale that was supposed to save them? I remember the look in his eyes, the heated, piercing look, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  What if my only chance is already gone?

  6

  Levi

  I drag my mouth down the line of Ruby’s collarbone, working down inch by inch until my mouth closes over her nipple. One swirl of my tongue and she’s arching back, a gasp escaping from between her pretty lips. My cock throbs in anticipation. I’m so close to claiming her.

  I work one hand between her legs, putting a gentle pressure on her inner thighs. “Spread for me.” The words, growled into her ears, make her tense—but only a little, and then she’s opening wide for me, slick and hot and—

  An alarm rings nearby, an insistent buzz, and Ruby’s eyes widen. I take my fingers away from her slit to grab for the phone and she mewls in frustration. “What is that?” Her voice is breathless, tinged with irritation.

  The buzzing gets louder as I fumble with the phone. Where the hell is the button to stop all this, to silence it? Nothing on the screen makes any sense. Something must have gone wrong with it in the middle of the night, because I can’t read anything on the screen or even on the casing. Ruby pushes herself up on her elbows, a frown on her face, and I flip it over. There are no buttons, and now the buzzing is accompanied by a shrill ring. Damn it. Damn it.

  I surface from the dream with a cold rush of reality down my spine and groan into my pillow.

  Who the hell is calling right now, and why?

  The light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master bedroom is a dusky gray, tinged with pink. It’s early as hell, and yet my phone is still ringing on the bedside table. I want to throw the stupid thing to the floor, shatter it into a thousand pieces, and go back to that dream, but it’s already fading.

  “Fine.” I snatch the phone from the table and squint at the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognize. Wonderful. Someone privileged enough to have my number has cost me the most vivid dream of the last decade.

  I swipe angrily across the screen and slap the phone to my ear. “Hello?” At this hour of the morning, I’m not about niceties.

  “Oh, thank god.” The voice on the other end of the line, low and sweet, is filled with relief. “This—is this Levi Blake?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “It’s—” The woman breaks off and takes in a big breath. Hopefully she’s realizing that this hour of the morning is hardly appropriate for phone calls, much less a full conversation. “This is Ruby Ashworth.”

  I’m up on my elbow in an instant, trying to stifle a laugh. “No, it’s not. Who is this?”

  “Ruby Ashworth.” Her voice is a little uncertain, and a moment later I find out why. “I’m—” She swallows audibly. “I didn’t realize how early it was. I can call back later.”

  “No.” I snap my lips shut, listening for the click of the line going dead. “I’m awake. Is something the matter?”

  I can’t believe she’s calling. For one thing, it is five thirty in the morning. For another, I was trying to call her bluff back at the estate sale. Most times, when I start to walk out the door, whoever it is will rush after me, and then we can get to the real negotiating. For Ruby to hold out for almost a full day means… I’m not totally sure what it means, but I’m impressed.

  Ruby lets out a laugh, short and on the edge of being bitter. “My estate sale was a total flop.”

  “Aha.” I fall back against the pillows, running a hand through my hair. “So you do need me after all.”

  She sighs, and there’s a pause—one heartbeat, then two. “Yes. I guess there’s no other way to put it.” There’s another short pause, like she’s busy swallowing her pride. “I wanted to talk to you about the offer you made on the contents of the house.”

  “At five thirty in the morning?”

  “I was in a little bit of a rush.”

  “I’m dying to know why.” I really am. I gave her that card yesterday. There was plenty of time to call at any one of the decent hours between then and now.

  “If you must know…”

  “I must.”

  “If you must know,” Ruby begins again, “I was worried I’d lost your number.”

  “Did you lose my card?”

  “I didn’t…lose it so much as throw it away.”

  “But you got it back?” An image of Ruby digging through some dumpster hidden on her family property’s grounds makes laughter bubble up in my chest.

  “The cleaning crew hasn’t been through yet.”

  “Let me get this straight.” This conversation is not at all what I was expecting when I realized Ruby was the person on the other end of the line. It’s too familiar, like we’re not perfect strangers, and a wave of heat moves through my chest. Maybe it’s the early hour of the morning, but what the hell do I care? I’m going to go with it. I’ll go with it until she decides she hates me again. “You rushed downstairs and dug through a waste bin to find the card I gave you, and then you called me immediately…in case I’d disappeared?”

  Ruby laughs again, and this time it’s not bitter. It’s disbelieving. “It wasn’t that simple.”

  “You rushed…outside?”

  “I’m not living at my parents’ house anymore, Mr. Blake.”

  “I think we’re at the point where you can call me Levi.”

  “Oh, are we?” I can hear the amusement in her voice.

  “You did call me and wake me up at five thirty. That must mean we’re close acquaintances, at least.”

  Her sigh is a little heavier. “I’m not sure I want to be close…acquaintances with the man who…never mind. It looks like I might not have much of a choice.”

  “Like I said. You need me.”

  “I need to talk to you, yes.”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “At—” I can practically see her shaking her head. “I’m at my apartment. Where are you?”

  “At my penthouse. I can meet you in forty-five minutes, if you want to discuss the estate.”

  There’s a silence. “You really don’t have to do that. I’m assuming you have an office, or a…a showroom of some kind. I could stop by on my lunch break tomorrow or Tuesday, and—”

  “Ruby Ashworth, you woke me up at this ungodly hour, and now you won’t even meet me for breakfast?”

  Another laugh that sends a jolt of pure joy through my veins. “You have a fair point. Where should we meet?”

  I name my favorite breakfast place.

  “Okay. Forty-five minut
es?”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  The line goes dead, and I climb out of bed and head for the master bathroom.

  Next on my agenda: find out how badly she needs me.

  7

  Ruby

  I wrap my hands around the delicate coffee mug, inhaling the steam rising from the top, and steel myself to be stood up.

  It’s so stupidly early that I can’t believe I dialed that number. I can’t believe I didn’t hang up on the first ring. And most of all, I can’t believe that Levi Blake actually picked up. I sure as hell wouldn’t have. I don’t take calls from unknown numbers as a general rule, and if one woke me up before six in the morning...

  I’d probably already be awake. Sleep hasn’t been my forte since Henry’s accident. Since everything started caving in around us. No matter how hard I try, I can’t quite connect the dots. The company my father founded with his best college friend was a massive success...until it wasn’t. One drug trial gone wrong—and admittedly, it went very wrong, with one woman dying and another left needing extensive surgery to repair the nerve damage done by the experimental cancer drug—and the whole thing went belly up.

  Worse, my father didn’t reveal to anyone—not even my mother—that he’d been leveraging their combined personal assets in order to try to keep the company afloat. Every penny he’d paid to the best PR firms in the country couldn’t keep the investors coming back, though, and by the time Henry’s accident happened, there wasn’t much left. That was the last straw. But Henry, that reckless brother of mine, hadn’t exactly planned in advance for a catastrophe either.

  There should have been a plan. Something to bail them out in case everything went south.

  “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

  I look up from the coffee mug and into those same startling gray eyes, dotted with silver flecks that catch the early morning light spilling in from the cafe’s windows. Not that this is much of a cafe in any traditional—or TV—sense. It’s not some greasy spoon. Sunrise, tucked in on the ground floor of a building on the Upper East Side, is more high-end dinner establishment than diner. If it weren’t six thirty in the morning, I’d feel underdressed.