The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

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The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1 Page 7

by Danielle Stewart


  “I’m not going to some kid’s bar mitzvah in California tonight.” James was looking at her as though she’d just handed him a clown nose and told him to juggle.

  “Why not?”

  “For starters, I’m not a thirteen-year-old Jewish boy.”

  She tried to channel her disappointment over his reaction into assertiveness. “It’s tonight or ten days from now when they get back from vacation. When you and I discussed this it sounded as though the meeting couldn’t wait.”

  “It can’t,” he cut back.

  “I had a friend in junior high who was Jewish. I remember his bar mitzvah. I can make you a list of notes you need and have them ready for when you get on the jet.”

  “You’re coming,” he asserted, and she could see a glimmer of desperation in his eyes.

  “You’ll need to leave in an hour. I can’t get home and back with a bag in time. I can’t go dressed like this.”

  “Go buy something. You can use the company card, and I’ll have a car pick you up.” He was already back to work, tapping away at his computer and shuffling around a pile of paperwork.

  “You really want me to go with you?” A knot in her stomach tightened at the idea of his invitation. It was one thing to keep her desires at bay in an office full of other people. But traveling together, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay in control.

  He didn’t answer, instead just picked up the phone on his desk. “Susan get the jet fueled up and ready to leave in an hour. Make sure there’s a suit on there for me. We’ll be flying through dinner so make sure the flight crew has a meal prepared and some champagne. Oh, and the suit needs to be something appropriate for a bar mitzvah.” He sighed as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Yes. A bar mitzvah.”

  “I’ll run out and grab a dress then,” Libby said as he hung up the phone.

  “Make it short.”

  “The dress?” she asked, her heart pumping harder in her chest, her body sizzling with desire.

  “Ha,” he barked a laugh. “I was talking about the trip to the store. But the dress can be short too. Though I’m not sure a room full of thirteen-year-old boys will be able to keep their heads from exploding at the sight of your thighs.”

  “Oh.” She blushed with hot red embers. “Of course I didn’t think you meant—”

  “Yes, you did. That’s exactly what you thought.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I like the way you think.”

  She nibbled nervously at her lip as she thought of how to respond. “I’ll come,” she stuttered out. “I mean, I’ll come back here right after.”

  As she disappeared around the corner in a hurried walk he watched her body flush pink. He was not going to be able to keep this up. He couldn’t keep teasing her. Smelling her scent. Brushing close enough to feel her silky blouse against his skin. This game would need to end soon.

  Chapter 9

  James had to start using the label masochist soon if he kept torturing himself this way. He wanted Liberty more than any woman he’d ever desired in his life. There had been very few things he deprived himself of over the years, and his willpower was waning. Watching her saunter into his office every day only heightened his craving. For a man who always took what he wanted, he was finding this push and pull between them both exhilarating and torturous. Every time he thrust closer to her, she backed away, the familiar conflict raging in her face. Every time he moved an inch away, showing some restraint against his longing, she was right there begging for it subtly again.

  Liberty was hell-bent on keeping this job even though he could see desire smoldering in her eyes. The way her breasts perked up every time they were close made it clear. But she wouldn’t crack. He’d pegged her as weak, but she kept showing her willpower. And it was driving him mad. Deep down he knew if he pressed her, if he really wanted this to end with her in his bed, she’d be there. He was still in control.

  “So that’s basically all you need to know about the party tonight,” she said, and he cursed her plump lips for being so delicious looking. A waft of her perfume carried in the air as she moved her arms.

  “You look like you’ve never been on a plane before,” he said, raking his eyes over the unease that had spread across her face upon take off.

  “Of course I have,” she retorted, waving him off. “I’ve just never been sitting next to a man whose name was written on the side of it.”

  “There are some perks to being a West.” He sighed, checking his watch to see how much longer before they landed.

  “Some?” she challenged, staring down at his gold watch. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like.” She fiddled mindlessly with the small plain gold chain around her neck.

  “My grandfather built this company from nothing. It’s in my genes to work hard and keep the success going. But you won’t hear me complaining about the four thousand dollar suits and the bath towels that feel like you’re drying yourself with a fuzzy lamb.”

  “Like I said, I can’t even imagine. I’m pretty sure my bath towels were a wedding present for my parents a lifetime ago. But I wouldn’t want the hassle that comes with all that money.”

  “Money doesn’t buy happiness,” James said in agreement. “But it buys these.” He slid a small wooden box over toward her. “These are $450 per pound, made from the finest dark chocolate from Venezuela and the second best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  She looked him over skeptically as he gestured for her to take a chocolate. “If this is the second best thing you’ve ever tasted, what’s the first?”

  He grinned devilishly, preparing to tell a playfully dirty joke about his favorite thing to eat not being food at all, but she cut him off with a wild reaction.

  “Holy shit,” she said, closing her eyes as though that would make the chocolate taste even better.

  “Right?” James asked, loving the way he’d opened her up to something new, something she didn’t know existed before this moment. When her eyes opened she stared at him with a look of stunned joy. The act of reading someone’s expression had always been a tactical approach James took in order to dissect them. The way Liberty had her face spun up right now was having an effect on him he’d never experienced before. A flash of every indulgence he could think of moved through his mind. Liberty would love the lobster ravioli Chef Renaldo Corito made special for James every time he was in Venice. She’d lose her mind when she saw the gowns in Paris. In an instant he saw a multitude of years pass between them and felt a shock of sickness pour through him.

  “Keep these away from me. I’ll never eat a regular candy bar again without comparing it to this.”

  The elation he’d felt moments earlier at the idea of pleasing Liberty in a multitude of ways for years to come was replaced with a gut-wrenching fear. These thoughts had never weaseled their way into his mind before.

  “Nothing’s wrong with indulging,” James said, but closed the box quickly and changed the subject. “I’ll need some time aside with Elerond, and then we’ll get the hell out of there,” James said as he scanned the paper she’d handed him. “I mean a cold-hearted bastard like me shouldn’t be hanging around kids too long.” His eyes fixed on her as he said those words. Her insult had lingered between them since she’d tossed the accusation his way days earlier.

  “About that,” she said, nervously biting at her fingernail. “I shouldn’t have said it. I really hardly ever crossed your father’s path. That’s not my opinion of him.”

  “But it’s your opinion of me?” Something felt good about watching Liberty squirm in embarrassment.

  “I don’t think you and I are alike in many ways, and I guess I just don’t understand you. But it was wrong of me to call you a name.” She looked at him so earnestly he had to beat back the guilt of toying with her.

  “I do the things that need to be done. I don’t worry about being popular or understood.”

  “Then maybe I was wrong,” she giggled softly. “We might have something in common becaus
e I’ve never been popular or understood by people.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t those things. I said I don’t care if I am. Neither should you. You have so much going for you. You shouldn’t care if people like you. I find people are so busy not liking themselves they hardly have time to form an opinion about you.”

  “Oh,” she said, falling serious again. “Then we’re back to having nothing in common. I do care.”

  “It’s a waste of time. People will either like you or not. If you do the right thing, if you’re guided by the right things, that’s all that matters. I watch you. You take a lot of shit from people. You act like you don’t deserve more. You do. You aren’t doing a terrible job,” he said, feeling compelled to give her something to hold on to.

  “Gee,” she smiled whimsically, “I’m going to take that as a high compliment since it’s the first time I’ve heard anything like that from you. I can’t tell if you’re rooting for me or against me most days.”

  “I told you where I stand.” He wasn’t planning on explaining himself any further. James didn’t like where that rabbit hole would lead once he fell down it.

  “Not really,” she countered. “You wanted to sleep with me. You wanted me to quit so you could. But I told you I need the job so you backed off. But I still feel like you’re waiting for me to screw up. You’re still hoping. I think you are a very conflicted man.”

  “Like you’re not conflicted?” he joked, raising his eyebrows nearly to his hairline in accusation. “I’m a skilled judge of character. I know what most people are thinking before they do. And you, young lady, have been thinking some perfectly filthy things and then hating yourself for it.”

  She blushed again, the pinkness almost becoming her normal hue in his presence. Not seeming capable of answering, he let her off the hook.

  “What’s the dress look like?” he asked, averting his eyes from her to give her room to breathe again.

  Liberty looked at him curiously. Her eyes looked hopeful that he might actually give her more. He might open up or pry her open.

  His phone rang, robbing them both of the moment. “What?” he barked, looking annoyed as he answered the call. Listening intently to Mathew explaining a situation back in the office, he could feel Liberty’s eyes on him. “Fire him,” he growled. “He lost his shot at the severance package. I don’t care how many years he’s been with the company. And make sure there’s a crowd; make sure people see him go.”

  James slammed his phone down on the table next to him. The pain in his temple flared, but he didn’t bother trying to rub it away. It never helped. By the time he looked up, trying to remember where he and Liberty had left off in their playful banter, he realized what happened. The look in her eye, the way she turned away from him ever so slightly, made it clear. The flame that had started to burn between them had been doused by ice water. The cold-hearted beast she preferred to think of him as, probably to keep her pants on, had just reared its ugly head. Of course it was out of context. She didn’t know what happened on the other end of the line. But he could tell things had cooled between them.

  “The dress,” he said flatly. “You were talking about the dress.”

  “Oh,” she replied, unable to meet his eyes anymore as she spoke. “Yeah, it’s just kind of plain and boring, I guess.”

  Chapter 10

  What a liar. Her dress was neither plain nor boring and the way it hugged her hips and breasts made it all the more tantalizing. Somehow it was both perfectly appropriate for this child-centric event and at the same time effortlessly sexy.

  “There he is,” James said in a whisper by her ear. He didn’t need to be that close. It wasn’t important to keep his voice low, but he wanted a whiff of her scent.

  “He’s coming over,” she answered with a tiny wave and a smile in Mr. Elerond’s direction. “I think that’s his number two in the company, Milton Goldberg.”

  “Yes,” James answered, impressed Liberty had done her research.

  “James,” Elerond announced as handshakes and introductions passed between all of them. “I’m glad you could make it out to celebrate with us.” Elerond looked over his shoulder at his plump red-faced wife to ensure she was out of earshot. “I’ve only got about twenty minutes before she notices I’m not making the rounds.”

  “I don’t need much time,” James said. “You’ll hear what I have to say and be begging to be a part of it before they cut the cake or whatever they do here.”

  “Your arrogance seems a bit misplaced,” Milton said, straightening his back and puffing out his chest. Younger than Mr. Elerond by about fifteen years, the two men did share a common small stature and hunched shoulders, but their commonalities ended there. Milton had jet-black curly hair that was over-styled and looked wet. His beady eyes raked over Liberty every time he was sure she wasn’t looking. But James was looking. If he could pluck Milton’s roaming eyes from his head and shove them in the pocket of his ugly, cheap, blue suit he would.

  “I have to agree with Milton,” Elerond announced as he tucked his hands into his pockets, shaking the jowls below his chin as he moved. “West Oil has never had my business in the past. Your father, JW, wouldn’t make a single concession in order to work with us. Stubborn bastard. The things I’ve heard over the last few years haven’t been favorable. Lots of issues over at West Oil. Tell me,” he said, pointing his chin over at Liberty, “why should I bother listening to your boss right now? You’re the persistent woman who made this meeting happen, even though I gave you my opinion on JW and his tactics. I’m a believer in the old saying, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Am I wrong?”

  James watched Liberty tuck her hair behind her ears and kick out her chin some. This wasn’t her place to answer. She had no clue how important Elerond was to the plan for West Oil. But before he could cut in, she was speaking.

  “Mr. Elerond, I agree the apple doesn’t usually fall far from the tree. But if you’ve been paying close enough attention, and I’m sure a man of your position keeps an ear on the industry . . .” Very clever James thought. What a complex backhanded compliment. It meant anyone of importance would already know what she was about to say, so if Elerond pleaded ignorance he’d be naming himself as unimportant. “You obviously know Mr. West hasn’t been a part of West Oil under JW’s leadership. The apple may not have fallen far from the tree, but it rolled as fast and as far away as it could. I’ve been working with Mr. West for some time,” she lied. “I can assure you his plans are drastically different than his father’s. He’s incredibly forward thinking and, with his drive, everything he has in the works is very attainable. I’m clearly far out of my depth here, but I would assume a skilled businessman like yourself would at least hear him out.”

  James wasn’t looking at Liberty. He was watching these men watch her, and it gave him a mix of pride and a thread of jealousy. How could the woman who blushed and stuttered in front of him most days come up with something like that? Libby could be so fragile, so desperate, and then moments later so strong.

  “Well then,” Elerond said, crinkling his chin up thoughtfully, “let’s talk. Milton, will you please take this beautiful young lady for a spin on the dance floor to keep my wife’s suspicions down. I’m sure she’s already assuming something is up.”

  “Of course,” Milton said, extending his hand and bowing slightly to Liberty. It took significant willpower for James to keep from shoving him backward. But he needed Elerond. He needed this meeting. Liberty had done her part, more than he expected actually. It still killed him to see her slip into another man’s arms and spin around the dance floor while wearing a smile. But he knew her well enough already. That was not her real smile. Not the one she flashed when he’d tell a joke or when she’d trip over something in the office. She was not showing this man the parts of her that were authentic. But James had seen them.

  Libby’s head was swimming. It was like a high. She’d never felt like she was good at anything in her life. She’d been an av
erage actor. A so-so teacher. But this job, even though it seemed so far out of her depth, was actually working. Spinning around the dance floor with Milton, she kept her eyes fixed on James as she tried to push out this man’s intrusive cologne. It was a sour musky scent she’d be glad to be free of when the song was over. Her thoughts were on James. Was his meeting going well? Had she really helped him? Would he want to dance with her next?

  “You’re a very impressive woman,” Milton moaned in a low voice, getting closer to her ear than she felt comfortable with. But it wouldn’t do well to be rude to him now. Not when things were going so well for James. “When you called for this meeting I was set to shoot you down. But your persistence intrigued me. Well, that and the purr in your voice. I needed to meet the woman on the other end of the phone. That’s why you got this meeting really. I had to see you.”

  “Oh,” she said, feeling a little cheated out of her victory. Had a sexy voice done the trick? She was shaking her head as though she disagreed with his compliment about being an impressive woman. “I’m really just an assistant. Mr. West is the one with the impressive plans. I think you will be very pleased you heard him out.”

  “He’s an asshole,” Milton said, stepping back slightly so he could watch her reaction. “Excuse my harsh language, but you must be able to see that. A smart woman like you surely suffers terribly under a man like him.”

  “It’s a hard business. He’s trying to do what’s best for his family’s company.” She felt a blaze of anger come over her at the thought of someone speaking ill of James. Even though it wasn’t all that foreign from what she thought of him at times. But this is different. This rat-faced little asshole was way out of line. She felt one of his hands creep up her side; his thumb rested just below her breast. She couldn’t hold back her shudder.

  “So he’s nice to you?” Milton asked. “Because a woman like you should be treated like a queen.”

 

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