My Wounded Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 5)

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My Wounded Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 5) Page 12

by Serenity Woods


  For the second time in as many minutes, my heart skips a beat. I feel a stab of jealousy at the thought of him taking her out, and have to stop myself giving him a right hook.

  Ashton looks at me, sees my glare, and looks startled. “Oh, shit. Are you and she… you know…?”

  “Not officially but, yeah, kinda.”

  “Crap. I’m so sorry.”

  I push my jealousy away. How was he supposed to know? “It’s not your fault. We’re flying under the radar, so to speak. Nobody knows.”

  “Well, you’re a lucky man.” He clears his throat. “Did you see the All Blacks game last Saturday?”

  Relieved he’s changed the subject, I nod, and we start talking about the lineup, and what it means for the upcoming game against the Aussies next month.

  I scold myself, though, for acting like a caveman. Poppy isn’t mine, and I don’t have the right to act as if I own her.

  And yet… we are sleeping together. I’m trying to get her pregnant. Doesn’t that give me any rights?

  Maybe, maybe not.

  “Just gonna visit the Gents’,” Ashton says, and he disappears inside. I push the rest of the sandwich away, and finish off my beer. I want to get back to the Ark. I feel uncomfortable here, out of place, out of time. I miss the bay, the comfort of our own Ark, the Kings and the others I work with, and Jack, who’s always at my side. And I wish Poppy was here with me.

  “Fitz?”

  I freeze, then turn slowly at the woman’s voice. Mel’s standing in the doorway to the bar, shading her eyes with her hand. Her other hand rests on her very pregnant bump. She’s two years older than me, so she must be thirty-four now. Despite the bump, she’s lost quite a lot of weight, and her face is gaunt. She’s also cut her hair; the long blonde locks are gone, replaced with a short bob. I don’t like her new look. It makes her look beautiful but hard.

  “Hey, Mel.” I stand reluctantly as she approaches and slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

  “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t look upset or angry, just curious.

  “I’m visiting the animal sanctuary up the road.”

  “The Ark? Oh, are you involved in that?”

  “I help run its sister Ark in the Bay of Islands.”

  “So that’s where you ended up,” she says softly. “You vanished off the face of the Earth.”

  I don’t reply. It’s hard, seeing her again. I’d wondered whether this would ever happen, and how I’d react. I thought I might get angry or upset, but I just feel numb.

  “How long are you here for?” she asks.

  “Not long.”

  “What’s life like in the bay?”

  “Great.”

  “Effusive as ever,” she says, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

  I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t want to talk to her. It twists me up inside. I used to love this woman. I thought we had a future together. But she turned her back on me when I needed her most, and she walked away.

  I don’t want to congratulate her on her marriage and her kids. On being pregnant. On having a wonderful life without me. Fuck her. She hurt me, and I’m not over it. I thought I was, but maybe the wound she gave me will never heal the way my back has. It’s buried deep within me like shrapnel, slicing through me whenever I think it’s gone.

  “How’s your back?” she asks.

  “Do you care?” I snap.

  She studies my face. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell her. “Thanks for your concern.”

  Her brow furrows. “Don’t be like that.”

  “It’s difficult not to be, Mel, when you left me because of the injury. It’s a bit hypocritical to be asking about it now, don’t you think?”

  “I didn’t leave you because of your injury,” she says.

  “Oh, yeah, right. You left because it ‘changed me.’” I put sarcastic air quotes around the words. “As if I was expected to come through it all unscathed.”

  “I left because you didn’t want me anymore,” she replies, a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

  I glare at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You shut yourself off from me after the accident. You withdrew completely. You wouldn’t talk to me about it, about anything, in fact.” She’s gone pale. “I wanted to help you; I could see you were in pain, but I felt so alone. I was scared of marrying you when I wasn’t sure if we could go back to the way things were.”

  “You hardly gave us time to find out,” I say harshly, my stomach churning.

  “I know.” She bites her lip. “I met Terry, and I fell in love with him. He’s an open book, and it was so refreshing after being with you. You have padlock after padlock around your heart Fitz—you always did have, even before the accident. You said you loved me, but you always kept a large piece of yourself hidden from me.”

  “I don’t even know what that means. I never kept any secrets from you.”

  “I don’t mean secrets. I mean your feelings, what was in your heart.”

  “So I don’t go around blurting out my emotions. Sue me!”

  I’m aware that I’m raising my voice to a pregnant woman, and I force myself to lower it, to calm down. This is a pointless conversation. I don’t know what she’s trying to say, and she doesn’t understand that I didn’t make any conscious effort to keep anything from her. I don’t feel the need to discuss every thought that goes through my head. That’s just who I am. Poppy seems to understand that. Why didn’t Mel?

  “I don’t want to argue,” she says. “I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Well, you’ve said it.” Ashton comes out, so I say, “Good luck with the baby. Gotta go now.”

  “Hey, Mel,” Ashton says, coming over to kiss her cheek. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thanks.” She looks a bit upset and glances my way, but I turn and walk off, back to the car.

  I’m breathing heavily, struggling to contain my emotion. I wish Poppy was here, with her mad hair and her calm manner. I think of the way she stood behind me in the shower this morning and slid her arms around me. She didn’t have to say anything; that brief touch demonstrated her sympathy, and her affection for me.

  I wish she was mine. I wish I had someone of my own. I’m lonely, and bitter, and I don’t want to continue living that way. But Poppy’s not looking for a companion. I think I’m destined to be lonely and bitter for the rest of my life.

  Clouds are moving over the sun, promising rain. Carpe diem, Fitz. Forget about anything else.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Poppy

  I arrive back at the Ark mid-afternoon. I park out front, walk past the half-built veterinary center, cross to the new office building, and go inside. It smells of paint and varnish—the smell of promise and excitement. Or is it just me, looking forward to seeing Marc again?

  “Hey,” Ashton calls out as I pass the meeting room, and I stop in the doorway.

  “Hi.” I lift up the tray of takeaway coffees in my hand. “I called in at the Riverbank on the way past.”

  “Excellent. We were just ready for a break.”

  I go into the room and see Marc sitting on the floor, his back to the wall. Papers and plans lie all over the carpet in front of him, some covered in his neat, round handwriting. He looks up as I walk in, his eyes meeting mine, and I feel an electric shock hit me and run all the way down my body.

  I go over, sit beside him, and pass him a coffee.

  “Thanks,” he says. He gives a smile, but it’s half-hearted, and he drops his gaze afterward. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was upset about something.

  “I’m just going to check on the delivery of the building materials that’s coming this afternoon,” Ashton says. “I won’t be long and then you can tell me all about your petting farm.” He takes his coffee and leaves the room.

  I lean back against the wall and sip my coffee. “How are you doing?” I ask Marc. “Got much done?”

 
“Yeah, quite a lot actually. It’s been a busy morning. You?”

  I nod. “I had great fun. Found a petting farm and spent the morning with the woman who runs it. I picked up quite a few tips.”

  “Great.” He smiles, then swigs his coffee.

  “You okay?” I ask. “Something on your mind?”

  He gives me a curious look. “I thought you said you weren’t any good at reading people?”

  “I’m not, normally. But you seem… I don’t know. Sad.”

  He drops his gaze back to his coffee cup and sighs. “I bumped into Mel.”

  My jaw drops. “Oh no. Where?”

  “At the Riverbank. You might have seen her if you went in there for the coffees. Blonde. Pregnant.”

  “She served me.” Holy shit, that was his ex? Ouch, the bump must have been painful to see. Oddly, she didn’t look like what I expected. It’s funny how you always imagine other women to be younger and prettier than yourself.

  “Ashton says she has two kids already,” he says.

  “I’m sorry.” I reach out and take his hand.

  He curls his fingers around mine, looking at them as if surprised to see them there. “It was a shock, that’s all,” he says softly.

  “Of course it was.”

  “I didn’t expect to see her.”

  “No, why would you? I’m not surprised it shook you up a bit.” I squeeze his fingers. “But you’ve moved on now, eh? New job, new life. You deserve better than her, Marc.”

  He meets my gaze. There’s a strange expression on his face, although I can’t decipher it this time. Then, to my surprise, he lifts a hand to cup the back of my head and pulls me toward him for a kiss.

  Conscious that Ashton could walk in, I feel my face warm, but I don’t want Marc to think I’m not interested in kissing him, so I close my eyes and give in. I know the kiss is connected with him seeing Mel—maybe he’s proving to himself that he’s still attractive to women, or probably more that he needs comfort after seeing she’s moved on. Either way, I’m happy to help, and I touch my tongue to his bottom lip, following which he slides his tongue against mine, and we indulge in a long, sensual, somewhat erotic kiss that leaves me tingling all over.

  When he eventually moves back, I press my lips together and lean against the wall. “Mmm,” I say. “Yum.”

  He gives a short laugh and swigs his coffee. “Yeah,” he says, “that about sums it up.”

  Ashton comes back in at that moment, bringing an end to the conversation, but it takes a while for me to stop tingling.

  He declares there are some other members of the Ark arriving outside, keen to meet us, so we wander out into the blustery afternoon and shake hands with the two men—Ken and Hemi, and one woman—Sally, who are founding members of the new sanctuary. Furniture is in short supply, but someone has some fold-up chairs in their car, and soon we’re all sitting on the grass, talking about Noah’s Ark and discussing similarities and differences.

  Sally asks me about the success of the petting farm, and I start telling them about it. I list a few of the studies Leon quoted in his visit to the Beehive when he did his presentation to the Prime Minister, explaining how we’re hoping that teaching children to respect animals at an early age might improve the number of incidents of violence in the family home.

  “I give a little talk at the beginning of each tour,” I tell them, “explaining about how the animals aren’t stuffed toys or cartoon characters—that they’re like people, and have feelings and emotions, and that pets especially rely on us to take care of them. It’s surprising how many children… er…”

  My voice trails off as my gaze falls on Marc. He’s watching me, and as I meet his eyes, I find his filled with a sultry desire. He’s thinking about me naked. About sex. Specifically, having sex with me. Oh. That’s thrown me. What was I saying?

  He lifts an eyebrow, and I tear my gaze away, clear my throat, and carry on. “Yes, um, it’s surprising how many children don’t think about the animal in that way.” I continue talking, keeping my gaze averted from him so he can’t distract me, but inside I have butterflies, and my heart is racing.

  The conversation continues for a while, moving on to the veterinary center, and as Hemi and Ashton tell us about their plans for creating a Ward Seven the same as at Noah’s Ark, my gaze drifts back to Marc. He’s listening to them, nodding, and adding something every now and then, but at that point he meets my gaze for a second time. He doesn’t smile, but it’s like an electric shock to my system again. How can he do that with just a look?

  We stay at the Ark for another hour, but even though I join the others in a wander around the site, and I listen to the conversation, my mind isn’t on it. I keep thinking about that morning, when Marc woke me by kissing my back before sliding into me from behind, and how he so easily, so effortlessly, coaxed me to a climax again. I want more of that. I’m hungry for him. I’m a little tender down below—Jesus, what a surprise, after having sex twice within twelve hours—but still, I want him again. Will he want to have sex with me later? Definitely, if that hot look in his eyes is anything to go by.

  Ashton stops by the fence around one of the paddocks to talk about the possible site for their own petting farm, and when I lean on the fence, Marc comes and leans beside me. He’s not touching me; his arm is half an inch away from mine. But I can feel him with every fiber of my being. I can almost smell his skin, feel his muscles beneath my fingers. I want to slide my hand beneath his T-shirt onto his back; trace his spine up to his shoulder blades. I want to feel his mouth on mine. I want him inside me.

  “Poppy?”

  I jump at Sally’s voice behind me and turn. “Sorry?”

  “I just asked whether you both wanted to join us for dinner tonight? We’re all meeting up in town at a Chinese restaurant.”

  I glance at Marc. “Sure,” he says. “But we might go back to the lighthouse first to catch up on a few phone calls and then get changed.”

  “Oh, you’re staying at the lighthouse?” Sally says. “It’s a lovely little cottage, isn’t it? So picturesque.”

  “Yeah,” he says, “I got a last-minute booking due to a cancellation. What time are you meeting?”

  “Six-thirty, at the Golden Dragon.”

  “Okay, we’ll meet you there. Poppy? Shall we shoot off?”

  I nod, and we wave goodbye to the others and head back to the car.

  He glances at me as we walk. “Why are you blushing?”

  “You told them we’re staying at the lighthouse.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “It only has one bedroom.”

  “Yeah…”

  “So they all know we’re staying together,” I point out with some exasperation.

  “Of course they do. I told Ashton we were an item.”

  That surprises me. “Did you?”

  We arrive at the car, and get inside. “Yeah,” Marc says, buckling in his seat belt and starting the engine. “He told me he was thinking of asking you out for a drink this evening.”

  “Oh!”

  “I might have gotten a bit jealous and glared at him.” He turns the car around and heads off down the road. “He asked if we were together and I cleared it up by saying ‘not officially, but yeah, kinda.’” He gives me an amused look.

  My head’s whirling, and I feel a mixture of emotions.

  “Sorry,” he says. “Did I overstep the boundary?”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “Did you want to go out for a drink with Ashton?”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course not. I mean, I’m flattered he’s interested, of course, but I’m not interested in him.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  He turns his hot gaze to me. “Good. Because when we get in, I’m going to screw you senseless.”

  Heat rushes through me, and I inhale sharply. “Marc!”

  “What? Tell me you haven’t been thinking about it all afternoon.”

  I can’t deny it.
“We’re going out at six-thirty.”

  “It’s not even five o’clock yet. Plenty of time for some afternoon delight.”

  My heart’s hammering against my ribs. I want him, desperately, but equally I’m sure this is about Mel, and that gives me a funny twist in my stomach.

  “You said you ovulate tomorrow,” he reminds me when I don’t say anything. “Might as well get as many of those swimmers trying to cross the channel as possible.” He smirks as he takes the turnoff for the lighthouse.

  I bite my lip as he navigates the narrow lane, and when he eventually pulls up and parks, he turns to me and tips his head to the side. “What?”

  “Is this about Mel?” I ask softly. “Because I told you, we don’t have to have sex all the time to get pregnant.”

  He looks into my eyes, then looks away, across the ocean. I follow his gaze. The blustery breeze is whipping the sea into peaks and troughs, and the spray coats the rocks with white lace.

  “It’s not about Mel,” he says eventually, his gaze coming back to me. “Or at least, seeing her made me realize how special you are. In the few days we’ve been… intimate, I feel that you care for me more than she ever did.”

  My jaw drops; I’m incredibly touched by his words.

  “I’m not saying I expect anything when this is over,” he adds quickly. “I know this is a temporary arrangement.”

  “It’s okay.” I reach up a hand and cup his face. “I understand.” I feel anger toward the cold woman who turned her back on him when he was so vulnerable. I want to make him feel better. To prove to him that he is worthy of love and affection.

  I unbuckle my seat belt, shift closer to him, and pull his head down until his lips touch mine.

  Mmm, I’ve been thinking about this all day. He smells so good. His lips move gently across mine, and then his tongue brushes my lip, and we exchange a deep, sensual kiss.

  Ooh, it takes all of ten seconds for the tingles to pass through me, and already my nipples are tightening and I feel answering tremors deep inside. I want him, and it’s obvious he wants me. His fingers are tightening in my hair, and when he tilts his head to slant his lips across mine, the kiss turns hot and demanding.

 

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