All That He Desires (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 2) (6 page)

LMGK was an international consulting firm with worldwide branches – and whom Connor had claimed he worked for. They were supposedly interested in buying out the much smaller company
I
worked for, Exerton Consulting.

“No, I don’t.”

My insides twisted. Though I felt like I had
known
all along – I mean, what VP has a private Bentley limo, a bodyguard, and rents penthouse suites at a moment’s notice in the most expensive and exclusive hotel in LA? – hearing the answer felt like a punch to the stomach.

“Then everything you said was a lie?!” I cried out.

Not only did I feel like a fool, but I was starting to panic. I had just let some complete stranger rifle through confidential company files, never bothering to check out his story.

I might not just lose my job; I might be facing a lawsuit. Or criminal charges. Or both.

He started laughing, which infuriated me. I got up out of my seat.

“Hey – hey,” he said, catching my arm and stopping me. “I wasn’t lying to
you,
‘Lily Ross’ – I was using a cover story to get past the gatekeepers, that’s all. Some security guard and secretary I’d never met. It wasn’t personal.”

It sure
felt
personal. And there was another, bigger problem.

“But – but I let you look at stuff you shouldn’t have seen!” I cried out in anguish.

“You’re forgetting that the CEO of your company gave me permission over the phone,” he said in a soothing voice. “You heard him. And your boss, when given the choice of doing it himself or pawning it off on you, decided to go get drunk instead.”

Oh yeah… I’d forgotten about that…

I’d heard David Westerholtz, the CEO of Everton Consulting, give Connor
carte blanche
on looking at internal company files. I was completely off the hook for anything that happened.

Theoretically.

“But… you lied to Westerholtz!” I cried out.

“I think this qualifies as more than one question.”

I shot him a few daggers with my eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “Just sit down.”

I lowered back into my chair, my knees trembling.

“I’m actually one of the primary stockholders of LMGK. I also own a small stake in Exerton. Anything beyond that, you’re going to have to infer, since it would violate that whole ‘non-disclosure’ and business deal clause I gave you earlier.”

My eyes grew wide – but it made a whole lot more sense. If he owned a ton of stock in LMGK, that meant he was pretty damn rich. And Bentleys and bodyguards and penthouses made a lot more sense for a pretty damn rich guy than for a VP of a company.

“So you’re involved in the possible acquisition of Exerton – ” I began.

“Ah,” he cautioned, holding up a hand. “Infer it
inside your head
. Not only can I
not
talk about it, but it’s boring, and I’m in the middle of playing strip poker with a beautiful woman.”

Beautiful woman.

My heart thumped again, and I blushed slightly.

“I know why I’m losing, though,” he said as he shuffled the cards. “There’s no room to bluff.”

“What?”

“Bluffing. I’m good at it. In business and in life, I’m good at taking a crap hand and making other people think it’s outstanding.”

Insanely good looks, rich, probably from a moneyed family… well-endowed…

I blushed a little thinking about it.

…I think you got dealt a pretty GOOD hand in life, Mr. Connor Brooks.

“I can’t bluff with the way the game’s set up,” he continued. “It’s a straight ‘best hand wins’ scenario.”

“You made up the rules,” I retorted.

“Well, how about this: before we reveal our cards, we have to decide whether to stay in or fold. If you fold, you automatically lose, but only one piece of clothing…”

“…or one question,” I reminded him.

“Or one question,” he agreed. “But if you decide to stay in and you lose, you lose
two
pieces of clothing.”

“Or two questions.”

“Or one question, one piece of clothing.”

Hmmmm… ask a question, AND get to see some skin… that could be good…

I was learning a lot about Connor, but I
did
want to see him naked again.

“But you’re good at bluffing. I’m not,” I protested.

“You need to give me a chance to catch up.”

“You have just as much clothing on as I do,” I pointed out.

“Come onnnn…” he said, and gave me ridiculously over-the-top puppy-dog eyes, like he was begging for a treat.

I want a treat, too,
I thought.

“Fine.”

10

I lost right off the bat. And I stayed in, which was stupid. But I thought I was fine – I had two pair, and I’d won with that earlier.

He, unfortunately, had three of a kind.

“I don’t suppose you want to ask two questions,” I said, already knowing the answer.

“Nope,” he grinned. “Start taking it off.”

I grimaced… then kicked off my high heels. “One, two,” I smiled sweetly.

“Oh well, we’ve got to start somewhere.”

Then I lost again. This time I folded, though, so I only lost a bracelet I was wearing.

“This is not going well.”

“It’s going great for me,” he grinned.

Then he won
again.

I was sure I had him beat – a low straight! – but he had a flush.

Damn it!

“I’d like to see a little something more come off than just jewelry.”

“Too bad,” I said, removing my earrings.

Next hand, I got nothing. I was trying for a straight… but I didn’t get it. 5,6,7,8… and a Jack.

But the bluffing thing might work…

“I’m in,” I said, staring him down.

He grinned. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You absolutely sure?” he grinned, enjoying himself immensely.

“Yes,” I insisted, trying not to let my voice falter.

He laid down his cards. He didn’t have anything, either.

“Tie,” I said, as I laid down mine.

“High card wins,” he said, tapping his Ace of Hearts. “Two pieces of clothing.”

Crap. Crap, crap, CRAP.

I didn’t have anything else ‘harmless’ to take off.

I guess I
could
slip off my underwear and keep on my clothes…

Don’t be silly. He’s already seen you naked.

And liked what he saw, apparently.

But my cheeks were still scorching hot as I tried to decide what to do.

“I’m waaaaiiiiiting.”

I glared at him, then began to unbutton my blouse.

Thank God the lights were already down low. I was hoping the candlelight would be forgiving.

His eyebrows rose slightly, and his eyes stared at my breasts and bra.

Like he was starving, and somebody was putting food right in front of him – but not letting him touch.

To tell the truth, despite my embarrassment at being half-naked and on display, his open show of desire was turning me on.

I peeled off the blouse and stood up. I unzipped my skirt a little.

He just watched, mesmerized… but his lips parted slightly, and I could see him swallow.

I was so turned on – I loved the idea that this gorgeous, rich, powerful man really, actually wanted
me
– that I tried to make it a little sexier. I worked my hips back and forth a little, slowly tugging the skirt down, bit by bit, over and over, until the skirt fell to the floor.

He couldn’t peel his eyes away.

In fact, he crossed his legs, and I saw his hand move down to his fly as he rearranged himself.

I was making him hard.

Heat flushed through my entire body.

I wanted to go over there right now and make him
do
things to me…

…but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

Not yet.

“Enjoy the show?” I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice.

He took a second to answer… and for his eyes to raise to meet mine.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely.

A shiver went up and down my body.

I smiled. “Just so you know, I’m winning the next hand.”

11

And I did. He even tried to bluff me – or maybe he thought he could win. But my three queens beat his two pair.

“Damn it, I wanted to see more,” he growled, staring at my breasts again.

“There’ll be time.”

“So… two pieces of clothing?” he asked, both hopeful and mocking at once.

I considered.

“One question, one piece of clothing.”

“Which one first?” he asked with a seductive little smile.

“The question.”

“Go for it.”

I knew I shouldn’t ask it… I
knew
I was asking for trouble, for heartache, for a swift kick to the gut…

…but I had to know. And it was going to keep on driving me crazy if I didn’t ask.

“How many women have you slept with?”

He stared at me, sphinx-like, and didn’t answer for a second. When he did, his face was a blank slate, and his voice was carefully controlled. “Are you sure you want to ask that?”

“Yes,” I said in a quavering voice, when the truth was actually
No
. I wasn’t sure at all.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you do.”

“Just tell me.”

“The truth?”

When he said that, it was confirmation I should have never asked. I most definitely wasn’t going to like the answer.

Still, I’m stupid that way.

“Yes.”

His face relaxed into something like resignation, and he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I frowned. “You don’t know?!”

“No.”

“Well – give me an estimate, then.”

“It’s over fifty for sure. Probably closer to a hundred.”

I felt like I was going to be sick. My stomach twisted and churned with nausea.

I was just one more in a long line of conquests.

This was nothing special… I was just bimbo #97 to him.

How stupid was I, exactly? Handsome, rich, smart, funny, charming… he’d probably had women throwing themselves at him his entire life. Hell,
I’d
slept with him right away, and I never, never,
never
did that, not ever. And I was thinking this was going to be a fairytale?

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID –

His voice broke into my interior monologue of abuse and self-loathing.

“I told you you didn’t want to know,” he said as he leaned the side of his face on one balled-up fist.

He was right.

I didn’t answer.

My internal struggle was obviously playing out on my face, so he just kept talking.

“I get to pick the piece of clothing, right?” he asked, reaching up for his top button. He could tell I wasn’t happy – in fact, that I was miserable – and was basically going through the charade to keep the situation from becoming any more uncomfortable than it already was. “I think I’ll – ”

“How many in the last six months?” I blurted out, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He tensed slightly. In fact, he looked more uncomfortable now than before. “That’s two questions. You said one question, one piece of – ”

“I changed my mind,” I answered, straining to keep my emotions in check. “I want to ask another question.”

“Because the first one was so pleasant for everyone involved.”

I ignored him. “How many in the last six months?”

He sighed. “Including tonight?”

Now I was getting angry. “
Yes,
including tonight.”

He stared into my eyes, no hint of a smile on his face.

“One.”

12

I didn’t understand at first. The math didn’t register.

But he slept with ME tonight – that’s one – but I asked about the last six months – and he still said one –
“I’m the first woman you’ve slept with in six months?!” I cried out.

Suddenly my heart lifted.

I guess I should have kept in mind that I was still #97 or whatever, but the fact that I was number one in the last six months was
something.

It let me think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t an average Friday night for him.

And it quieted the little voices in my head calling me
stupid
and
idiotic
.

“That’s three questions,” he smiled.

I think he was smiling because he knew it was back on. He’d snatched victory out of the jaws of defeat with his answer, and he knew it.