Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (11 page)

I push the last few months to the back of my head and
take only the positives from it. The ridiculous amount of money I've
earned. The reawakening of the dream I've had since I was a little
girl.

I even think about the great sex I enjoyed. With Brett,
and Britney, and the others in the show room. I think about how wild
that entire experience was, how it's set my life up in a way I could
never have expected and given me amazing pleasure along the way.

But, most of all, I think about the sex with Gray, his
perfect form, the way our bodies reacted to each other in a way I've
never experienced.

But I don't think about him with a heavy heart this
time. I look back on the experience with a smile on my face, thankful
for everything I got out of it.

And when I go to sleep that night, my mind is filled
with the promise of the future. I see my name in lights, my designs
sold all over the world. I wake to new ideas, new creations. And I
know that my creative side, long overpowered by my melancholy, is
beginning to fire up again.

On Sunday, I take lunch with my parents, and we take
another walk in the late summer sunshine. As we go I let my mind run
wild, the promise of the future completely awake in me once more.

I smile and watch the kids playing in the park and look
at the leaves as they gradually shed their green coats and prepare
for Fall.

My mom comments on my change of state, asking me what's
changed. My answer is merely: “me, mom. I've changed.”

And then I tell her I love her.

And throughout the entire weekend, I don't look at my
phone. My time staring at it, hoping for Gray to call, has now
passed. So I shut it down, keep it locked deep inside my purse, and
forget I even have it.

When Sunday evening dawns, I go to my room and prepare
to leave. A part of me wants to stay, to spend some more time with my
mom and dad and enjoy my regression to my childhood days.

But another part of me is desperate to ride the wave of
this renewed feeling of enthusiasm inside me. To go back to my
apartment and studio and set about changing my life, taking the bull
by the horns and directing its path without any outside influences.

So I pack the small bag I came with, go downstairs, and
kiss my mom and dad goodbye.

“
You will visit again soon?” asks my mom, hope in
her eyes.

I shake my head.

“
No, mom, you're coming to me next time!”

And so I leave, feeling more positive than I have in
months, with a new spring in my step and a conviction hardening
inside me.

I step out of the house on the front lawn, walk down the
short path to the gate, and lift my eyes to the cab I ordered to pick
me up.

Only it's not there.

In its place, sits a luxury Mercedes, the vision of a
driver with a black hat behind the wheel. And standing by the
passenger door at the back, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing
the sharpest suit I've ever seen, is the man I've been trying to
forget.

Gray steps forward, his eyes never leaving me, and stops
a few feet short.

I'm stuck to the ground, my feet growing roots at the
sudden sight of him.

“
What...are you doing here?” I mumble.

He holds the flowers almost awkwardly, his poise
seemingly lost for a moment.

“
Randall told me you lived her. I've been trying to
get hold of you, Ashley, but I couldn't get through.”

“
My phone's been turned off.”

“
Ah, I see.”

He inches forward, and passes the beautiful bouquet to
me, the scent of the flowers drifting up my nose.

“
These are for you. I...I missed you.”

My stoney visage threatens to crumble, my heart pulsing
hard behind my ribs. But I don't say a word.

“
I'm sorry about how we left things. I didn't think
about how it might make you feel. But...I've been really busy working
recently and...”

“
And you didn't have time to call,” I cut in
bluntly.

He takes another half step toward me.

“
I was a coward, Ashley. But I want you to let me make
it up to you.”

No... I can't let him get inside me again. I won't...

He takes my hand, his large fingers gripping me softly,
delicately, tenderly.

“
You were never a whore to me, Ashley. I only paid you
because I didn't want you going back to the show room. I couldn't
bare the thought that you might do that, with all that easy money
available.”

“
I wasn't going back, Gray...”

“
I understand that now. But, if you'll let me, I want
you to be something else to me.”

My heart hammers, and I can't resist his magnetic pull.

“
I want you to be mine.”

I hesitate, thinking of all the strides I've made in the
last couple of days, all the promises I told myself I'd stick to.
That I'd focus only on myself, on my work, on my family...

“
No, Gray,” I tell him. “I can't just be your
plaything. I have to think about myself here...”

“
No, no, not just a plaything.”

He eyes are earnest, his expression full of truth.

“
I want you to be my girlfriend, Ashley. I don't care
about any of the past. I just want you. No tricks, no deceit. Just
you and me, together.”

He gently tugs at my hand, pulling me toward him, and
his lips descend onto mine. We kiss softly, the contract in my mind
being signed and sealed once more.

“
OK,” I say, pulling back. “I'll be yours, if
you'll be mine.”

He smiles, and we kiss again, and I let just one more
thing slip into my priority list.

The man I can't say no to. The man who's the greatest
I've ever had. The man who, I hope, will stick to his word.

Because I'm his, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Prologue

I wake from a hazy dream with a heavy jolt.

“
Sorry for the disturbance, folks. We're just hitting
a patch of turbulence, so buckle up tight because this one's looking
rough.”

The blasé tone of the pilot helps put me at ease, but
I'm still clutching tight at the arm of my chair. I suppose he's been
through this a million times before.

Stay calm, Libby, you're more likely to win the
lottery than die in a plane crash.

Around me I see a few alarmed expressions, but most look
pretty relaxed. The private jet is small, only carrying a capacity of
20 excluding staff, and we're just about maxed out.

Still, the plane rumbles and shakes and drops
periodically in the sky, and I feel my head about to explode from the
weird changes in air pressure. I quickly fasten my belt and tuck
myself in tight as an air hostess darts for her own seat at the front
of the plane.

To my right across the aisle, my colleague Benjy sits
with a placid expression. In fact, he looks like he's almost enjoying
it, with a light in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his face.

“
You OK there, Lib?” he asks.

“
Fine, just fine, Ben. Thanks for asking.”

He laughs at the obvious fact that I'm clearly not fine.

“
I wouldn't worry, I've been through this shit a
hundred times. You kinda learn to enjoy it, you know, like a roller
coaster ride. In fact, you'd be more likely to die on one of those
probably...”

“
Um...I'd rather if you didn't use the word
die
right now if that's OK.”

“
Sure thing. I'll keep quiet.”

He runs his fingers over his mouth in a motion of
zipping his lips, and relaxes back into his chair, the plane still
bouncing and jolting around as if it's being shaken by the hand of
God.

I swear, every time I get on a fucking plane, this
happens. No wonder I don't like flying.

After a solid five minutes of impending death, the plane
begins to level out and the thick clouds outside the window begin to
thin. When we hit a patch of clean air and the plane levels out, the
captain's voice floats mellifluously back out from the speakers.

“
All done, folks. Wasn't as bad as anticipated. Just
relax and take your seat belts off. I'll call in again if we hit any
more pockets of rough air.”

My heart rate gradually deceased back to a stable level,
but still maintains a slightly raised pace at the thought that there
might be more to come.

Around me, belts are loosened and a chatter fills the
air once more, the sound of business negotiations ramping up again.
My colleague, Benjy, and I are both young legal aids, brought in to
help with the nitty gritty of a big deal involving billionaire Flint
Young.

At the far end of the small jet, I can see Flint sitting
there, surrounded by lawyers and business advisers, hashing out the
broad strokes of a new real estate deal in Sydney. He sits in the
center, the king of it all, these highly intelligent and educated
professionals bickering over this and that.

It's a sight I'm hardly used to seeing. I'm still very
new to the law profession, straight out of law school and pretty
green with regards to the dynamics of such a massive deal. For Benjy
and me, this is more about gaining experience, and right now we're
sitting at the back, watching it all unfold.

The best bit, though, is the free trip. We'd left LA
early this morning, and have been flying for hours straight across
the wide expanse of the Pacific. The deal will take us to Sydney,
where we'll get a few days to explore and enjoy the sights once the
deal has been struck and everything signed off.

I guess that's why Benjy's excited, although he's told
me he's already been to Australia twice. Once with his family when he
was young, and once when he went traveling before going to college.

From the many stories he's told me, he's been to just
about every country in the world you'd want to visit. So I guess
that's why flying doesn't seem to concern him anymore.

For me it's not quite the same, and another burst of
turbulence confirms that. The negotiations stop momentarily, and I
watch as Flint Young settles calmly into his seat, buckles up, and
casually sips on a bottle of water as he gazes out the window.

Before you meet a billionaire, you build an idea of what
one might be like in your head. Flint isn't it.

For a start, he's not old, like I'd expect him to me. In
fact, he's only 30, and pretty darn handsome too. He's got this
Southern swagger about him, this sleek accent that makes just about
everything he says sound charming. Along with it comes his wavy dark
hair, his bright blue eyes, and skin that's constantly dipped in a
nice covering of bronze.

He looks more like a movie star than a billionaire, and
from what I've read in the papers, it certainly sounds like he lives
a movie star life as well.

Flash parties. Movie premiers. Always a gorgeous model
on his arm. He's like Leo DiCaprio, only richer, better looking, and
marginally less recognizable.

The turbulence dies down again, and they all get back to
work, leaving me and Benjy to continue our discussion about what
we'll do in Sydney once it's all done.

“
Lib, it's awesome. We're gonna have such fun. You
never know, there might be a closing party when the deal's done. Mr
Young has this mansion out there, or so I've heard, that's like the
Playboy Mansion
of Australia. Maybe he'll throw a party
there.”

“
Yeah, Benjy, keep dreaming. We're just aids, he
probably won't even notice we're here.”

“
Well, whatever, there's still a great nightlife in
Sydney. I went to the Red Light District last time and had a whale of
a time...”

“
I'd rather not hear about your sordid life thanks.”

He grins and goes on to tell me, against my will, about
a particularly interesting experience he had in a sex shop.

Meanwhile my mind begins to wander and I start checking
the interactive display on the chair in front of me to see where we
are.

Somewhere over Fiji in the South Pacific...shouldn't
be too much longer now.

With Benjy finally shutting up, I try to get a bit more
sleep, my mind slowly drifting off into dreams of wild parties and
sex shops.

My mind darkens, and I slowly drift into some horrible
nightmare where it's pitch black and freezing cold and the world
around me is raging in a massive storm. I'm in the middle of a
twister, unable to escape, unable to do anything but hope...

And my eyes open.

And I see flashing lights and the sudden feeling that my
body is being thrown to one side. In my haze I still think I'm in a
nightmare, unable to catch up with what's going on. Then I see Benjy,
trying to connect his belt buckle, his face filled with fear as the
plane roars and is shaken so violently it feels like it's going to
tear apart.