Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (19 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

Olivia

I
woke up early on Friday morning, made a pot of coffee, showered, and then spent
the next several hours trying to figure out what to wear. Since Linc had not
told me where we'd be going or what we were doing, I'd had to figure it all out
for myself. I'd deduced that it would be casual since he'd said the car would arrive
at ten, but beyond that, I had not a clue. I finally decided that the best bet
would be a soft green sweater with a scoop neck, black jeans, and a pair of
black Chelsea boots that would be comfortable for walking. I left my hair loose
and free and applied the minimal amount of cosmetics necessary for a date,
which, for me, was a coat of mascara, a swipe of blush, and a dab of lipstick
so that I didn't look washed out. I surveyed my efforts in the mirror and was
satisfied with the outcome. Hopefully, Linc would be, too.

At precisely ten o'clock,
my buzzer rang and I descend to the lobby to find a driver waiting to escort me
to a long, black limo parked at the curb. I had expected to find Linc waiting
for me inside the limo, but instead, there was a bottle of champagne on ice
with a note that read, "Drink Me." I laughed as I poured myself a
glass and then sat back and watched the city speed by as the limo took me to my
destination. There was something exciting about not knowing exactly where I was
going or what Linc had planned.

Around the time I
finished my second glass of champagne, we pulled up on an airstrip next to a private
plane. The driver got out and opened my door, and as I exited the limo, I saw
Linc descending the stairs of the plane.

"Good morning,
Olivia!" he called as he crossed the tarmac. "I'm glad you could make
it. I've got an exciting day planned for us."

"Good morning, Redding,"
I said as I tried to will my pulse to slow down. He looked like he had stepped
out of the pages of a magazine, dressed in a deep blue sweater that matched his
eyes and a pair of jeans that looked so soft I ached to run my hands down them.
I shifted my gaze to the plane. "This is quite the surprise."

"I wanted to do
something unique and adventurous," he said as he turned and gestured
toward the plane. "What do you think?"

"Nice plane?" I
said unsure of what kind of response he was hoping for.

"I mean, what
do you
think about an adventure?" he laughed as he
turned and walked toward the plane gesturing for me to follow him.

"I think adventure
is highly overrated," I said as we climbed the stairs and stepped into the
body of the plane.

"Lighten up, Moore,"
he said with a smile. "You never know, you might have fun."

"And again, I will
ask," I said as I shot him a wary look. "What the hell happened to
you, Redding? Did you hit your head? You're being way too agreeable and not
nearly stubborn enough."

"I'm trying to be a
good host," he said. The smile stayed on his lips but it faded a bit in
his eyes. "Don't you like it when people are polite?"

"No, actually, I
don't," I said. "Or at least, not when it's you. When you're polite,
I assume you're up to something and I get suspicious."

"Olivia..." he
said. I watched the frustration begin to rise to the surface and I smiled
sweetly, waiting for him to let loose. But something shifted and he took a deep
breath before he spoke again. "Would you like something to drink before we
take off?"

"Okay, now I'm
getting scared," I said. "This is like a creepier version of the
Stepford Wives
and you're going all
Stepfordy on me."

"Jesus, woman!"
he shouted. "I'm just trying to have some manners so that we don't end up
ripping each other to shreds! Can't you reciprocate?"

"Ah ha, there you
are!" I said in a bright voice. "I knew you were in there somewhere,
dying to get out."

"It must be
extremely tiring to live so defensively all the time," Linc said as he
stood inches away from me, staring straight into my eyes. To say I was
surprised would have been an understatement, and the expression on my face gave
me away. He smiled a little as he gestured to a seat in the luxurious cabin.

I'd never been on a
private plane before, and as I looked around, I realized that money did make a
difference in the way people moved about. The cabin of the aircraft looked like
a comfortable living room, albeit with more seating than the average den. The
floor was covered in a thick, Berber carpeting that made me feel like I was
walking on pillows. The walls were painted a soft shade of taupe and edged in
off white, giving the room a cozy feel. But it was the furniture that really
stood out. The microfiber couches that were wide and welcoming looked like a
place where you could curl up under a blanket and read a book while you moved
around the world. There was a seating area that, in a normal home, would have
been centered
around
a fireplace, but here was
designed so that a table could be raised and lowered, making it a dining area
or a conference table. It felt homey and warm.

"Now, can I get you
something to drink?" Linc offered again. His smile was warm and genuine
and I returned it as I nodded. "Champagne or something stronger?"

"If you've got more
of that champagne, I'll have a glass," I said quietly.

"I've got several
bottles!" he laughed as he headed to the back of the cabin and pulled open
a door that looked like a closet, revealing a fully stocked fridge. He pulled
out a bottle and popped it open, pouring two glasses and bringing one to me.
"Here you go! Let's toast to an adventure."

"To adventure,"
I smiled as we clinked glasses and then sipped. As we waited for the crew to
complete their final check of the aircraft, Linc sat down next to me. I looked
at him and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Do you want to know
or do you want to be surprised?" he offered.

"I think I would
like to know, I'm not a big fan of surprises." I tried to move away from
him enough to give me some breathing room. There was something about his
proximity that made it extremely difficult to catch my breath, and I found
myself having to fight back the urge to run my fingers through is dark curls.

"I'm surprised that
a reporter is adverse to surprise," he said as he moved a little closer. I
felt my breath catch in my chest as he leaned toward me.

"I'm...we...I just
like to be informed," I stammered, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.

"You like knowing
everything," he remarked softly as he raised his hand and traced a line
down my cheek with his finger. My eyes darted from his eyes to his lips as he
slowly stroked the side of my face. I could feel myself getting lightheaded as
desire flooded my brain and spread out through my body. There was no denying
that I felt an animal attraction to this man.

"Mmm hmmm," I
nodded as he cupped my face and ran his thumb across my lower lip.

"But you should know
by now that you can't know everything," he whispered as he leaned forward
and lightly brushed his lips across mind before kissing a trail down my jaw to
my neck. I groaned as he ran his tongue down the side of my neck, sending a
jolt to the millions of nerves throughout my body. He kissed his way back up to
my ear where he spoke quietly, "I'm going to surprise you, Olivia."

And with that, he sat up,
backed away a short distance, and smiled like a Cheshire cat. My eyes widened
as I watched him, I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but the pounding of
my pulse told me that whatever it was, it was exciting, and the wetness between
my legs told me that I wanted more.

"Are you going to
tell me where we're going, then?" I asked as I swallowed hard and tried to
regain my composure.

"No, I think I'll
let you be surprised," he smiled. "But I think you'll like where
we're headed."

In that moment, I chose
to believe him.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

Linc

It
was a short ride
from D.C. to JFK, but it gave us plenty of time to talk. "What's happening
with the gun bill?" Olivia asked once she'd regained control of her
senses. I'd liked seeing her a little out of control, but I didn't want to push
things too far too fast and scare her off.

"Let's agree not to
talk Washington business this afternoon, shall we?" I replied. She nodded
slowly, as if she wasn't sure of my intentions. I smiled and said, "Look,
I just want us to have a good time and relax a little. If we spend the whole
time talking business, then we might as well have holed up in my office and not
come here at all, right?"

"Right," she
said hesitantly. "But you still haven't told me where we're going."

"Why don't you look
out your window?" I said gesturing towards the window behind her. The
skyline gave it away as we headed in for a landing.

 
She looked out the window, then back at me,
then back out the window smiling as she exclaimed, "New York City at
Christmas is one of my favorite places!"

"I'm glad I picked
the right place, then," I said. Once off the plane, we hopped into a limo
and headed downtown. "I thought we'd head over to SoHo for lunch then back
up to Fifth Avenue to see the Christmas windows."

"That sounds like a
great plan," she smiled, and for a moment I felt like maybe she'd give me
a chance.

We headed to Broome
Street and Despaña for lunch. Inside, we were surrounded by the sights and
smells that reminded me of the summer I'd spent in Madrid. We were taken to a
table where we ordered plates full of sea urchin pate, peppers stuffed with
chorizo, manchego, and lightly sautéed asparagus with jamon Serrano. I asked
the server to bring us a bottle of Rioja and once our glasses were filled, I
sat back and watched as Olivia dug into the food. She wasn't afraid to eat with
her hands, and I smiled when she grabbed a stem of asparagus and held it with
her fingers licking the juice from her wrist when it dripped down her hand.

"You look a little
more relaxed," I observed.

"This is
delicious!" she said as she grabbed a stuffed pepper and popped it in her
mouth. "And the wine is wonderful, though it seems that you're trying to
get me drunk, Redding."

"Nah, I just want
you to relax and enjoy yourself. After lunch, we'll walk up Fifth Avenue and
see if we can't find something fun to do."

"You do realize that
I'm not really impressed by all your money, don't you?" she blurted out as
she took another sip of wine and looked across the table expectantly.

"What the
hell?" I said sitting up and grabbing the edge of the table with both
hands. "Are you always so rude to people who are trying to be nice to
you?"

"Maybe, but I'm just
saying that I don't care about all the money," she repeated.

"I'm not trying to
impress you!"

"Could have fooled
me," she shrugged as she speared a piece of sea urchin and slipped it
between her lips.

"Why do you always
have to be so difficult?" I could feel my blood pressure rising and my
frustration level elevating. She was rude, that's all there was to it.

"Why do you always
have to be in charge of everything?"

"When am I in charge
of everything?"

"You don't like
being out of control. You like orchestrating everything so that you don't have
any surprises," she said. "But you don't want anyone else to be like
you, do you?"

"Are you calling me
a control freak?" I asked.

"If the shoe
fits," she shrugged again as she lifted the wine glass to her lips and
drank from it.

"So, what am I
supposed to do? If I'd waited for you to return my call, I'd never have spoken
to you again!" I shot back. "You don't want anyone making you feel
out of control, why?"

"Now, that's a good
question," she said as she turned her emerald green eyes on me and held me
in her gaze. I could feel my heart racing and I wasn't entirely sure that it
had anything to do with being mad. "Do you really want to know or do you
prefer to hear the socially acceptable story designed for public
consumption?"

"No, lie to me,
that's a great way for us to build solid communication," I said
sarcastically.

"Temper, temper,
Redding," she said with an amused grin. The anger returned as she mocked
me, but it was mixed with an extraordinarily strong attraction.

"Fine, then just
tell me whatever you want to tell me," I grumbled. "I don't
care."

"Oh, but I think you
do," she said as she leaned across the table and laid her hand on top of
mine. "I think you care very much."

"What do you want,
Olivia?" I asked. "It's like you want to piss me off. Like you want
me to get up and walk out and leave you here alone. Is that what you want?
Because I can't figure out any other explanation for why you do this push-pull
routine with me."

She looked surprised for
a moment, and then looked down and quietly said, "I don't know what I want
from you. You confuse me."

"Well, the feeling
is entirely mutual, lady," I muttered as I reached into my pocket, pulled
out a handful of cash and threw it on the table. I looked up and saw her
smiling at me as she reached out and grabbed my hand.

"C'mon, let's walk
up Spring Street and see what's decorated!" she cried as she pulled me out
of the cafe. "Dismiss the limo, we're taking the subway today,
Redding."

For the rest of the
afternoon, Olivia led me on a tour of the city unlike any I'd ever been on
before. We walked up Broome Street to Wooster where we stopped in several art
galleries before heading toward Spring Street and checking out the holiday
windows at Chanel and stopping for hot chocolate at Vosges. There was a light
snow falling and it covered the city in a white blanket that seemed special
ordered for the holiday. Olivia's eyes shined as she pulled me from one store
to the next, pointing out the beautiful decorations and chattering about how
the city always looked so welcoming in winter.

As I watched her, I felt
like I was experiencing real Christmas joy for the first time since my parents
died. I recalled what Mo and Brant had both said about taking chances, and as
Olivia excitedly pointed out the beautiful decorations at the MoMA Design Store,
I reached out and took her hand. She looked up at me with surprise, but then
laced her fingers with mine and squeezed them before pulling me onward. I
wanted to ask her a hundred questions and find out everything there was to know
about her, but I had started to realize that getting to know Olivia Moore was
going to be like peeling back an onion, not taking out a knife and slicing it
in two, so I took a deep breath and followed her lead.

We talked about college
experiences, books we loved, people we didn't like, and a host of things that
made me find her even more interesting and intriguing than I had before. She
loved Shakespeare and
’
60s
pulp fiction equally, and had never seen a reality television program. I told
her that I was a big fan of nineteenth century fiction, but that I could
tolerate some twentieth century writing, and she called me a snob. I laughed
and when I shot back that she was a damn hippie, she wrapped a hand around the
back of my head and pulled me down for a quick kiss. It was unexpected, but not
unwelcome, and it left me feeling a little less confused.

Around four o'clock, I
said, "We'd better be getting back to my place so we have time to get
ready and make our dinner reservations."

"Wait, I didn't pack
any clothes," she said. "I'm not sure how I'm going to get ready for
anything."

"Oh, I've taken care
of that," I smiled as I hailed a cab and instructed the driver where to
go.

When we pulled up in
front of my building in the Financial District, Olivia gasped, "You live
here?"

"I've got an
apartment here, I'm not sure I would call it living here," I said as I
helped her out of the cab and paid the driver. We entered the lobby and were
quickly whisked up to the thirtieth floor where my apartment spread out over
half the floor.

"This is
amazing," she said as she looked out of the floor to ceiling windows in
the living room over the city. The sun had set and the lights of the city were
starting to shine brightly.

"That's the view
that made me buy the place," I said as I moved next to her and put my arm
around her waist.

She turned and looked up
at me before she stepped around to face me and, resting the palms of her hands
on my chest, she looked into my eyes and said, "Thank you for a wonderful
day, Linc. I've enjoyed it all."

"Don't thank me
yet," I said as I held her gaze. "It's not over."

"Mmmm hmmm,"
she smiled as she slid her hands up around my neck and pulled me down so she
could kiss me deeply. She pressed her body against mine as she kissed me harder
and I could feel her intense need as she gripped a handful of my hair.

"Olivia..." I murmured
as she let go of my hair and ran her hands down my chest.

"Shhh, just let
go," she whispered as she slid her hands under my shirt.
"Please?"

For a moment, I wanted to
rebel and take control, but something in her voice told me that she needed this,
so I let her take the lead. My nod set her desires free as she grasped the hem
of my shirt and tugged until she'd pulled it up over my head. She kissed my
bare chest as her hands explored my skin, and I slid my fingers into her thick
red hair and pulled her face up so I could kiss her again. She raked her nails
down my back and I moaned into her lips. I could feel her smiling as she did it
again, and then again.

She made quick work of my
belt and zipper, and before I knew it, she had yanked my pants down around my
ankles and pushed me backwards on to the couch. Dropping to her knees, she
pulled my jeans away and spread my legs so that she could fit between them.

"Not fair," I
said as I looked up at her. "You're still dressed."

She moved up, resting her
hands on my shoulders and smiled as she ran her tongue across my lips and then
said, "Patience, Redding; have patience. Good things come to those who
wait." She ran her hand down the length of my body and wrapped her fingers
around my throbbing erection. Another groan escaped my lips as she stroked it
for a few moments before she stood up and began slowly removing her clothes.

I watched as she slid her
hands down to the bottom of her sweater and peeled it off like a second skin, revealing
a black lace bra that barely covered her nipples. She tossed the sweater aside
and began unbuttoning her jeans. Then, she turned around and pushed them to the
floor as she bent over, exposing the fact that she was wearing matching black
panties that covered her perfect, round curves.

"Oh God," I
breathed as she turned back around to face me with a hungry look while she slid
her panties down to her ankles and kicked them aside. "I'm in trouble
now."

"Indeed, you
are," she grinned as she dropped to her knees between my legs and grasped
my achingly hard shaft. I watched as she leaned forward and lightly ran her
tongue across the tip as she looked up at me with a mischievous grin.

"Jesus, lady,"
I moaned as she slid me between her lips and gently sucked as she flicked the
tip with her tongue. I reached out to grab her hair, but she smacked my hand
and shook her head, a motion that sent waves of pleasure crashing out into the
rest of my body.

"Uh, uh, uh,"
she said as she sat back and looked at me. "You do it my way or you don't
do it at all."

"You're going to
kill me, woman," I said as she grinned and bent forward to take me in her
mouth again. She turned the teasing into an achingly delicious kind of foreplay
I'd never felt before, and soon I was groaning as she bent her head and took me
all the way into the back of her throat. The sensation was almost more than I
could bear as she slid me in and out of her mouth, and as she pulled up and
began teasing the tip of my throbbing member, I reached out and stroked her
face.

"Mmmm?" she
said with her mouth full.

"Olivia,
please," I said. I knew better than to beg and I didn't want to. I wanted
her to understand what I was saying without having to say it. She smiled as she
sat up and looked at me. I gently stroked her cheek and willed her to
understand. She stood up and then kneeled on the couch, straddling my legs as
she reached down between her legs and grasped my shaft. She slid it between her
slippery wet lips and positioned it so that I was pressed just at the edge of
her opening. I wanted to thrust up inside of her hard and fast, but as I
watched her moving her hips, I was entranced by the movement and wanted to see
what she would do next.