Seduced by the American Millionaire

Seduced by the American Millionaire

by

Lynda Chance

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SMASHWORDS EDITION

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

Seduced by the American Millionaire

Copyright © 2010 by Lynda Chance

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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To Clayton,

The Only Inspiration I need

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Chapter One

Jenny sat at the bar and nervously twirled the ice in her glass with the straw. She studiously watched the condensation drip down the edges as she desperately tried to keep her eyes off the man in the booth at the end of the room. The first time she looked around after ordering a drink, she caught him looking right at her. Caught probably wasn't the correct word, since he made no effort to look away when her eyes found his. The bottom literally fell out of her stomach when she finally lowered her eyes to break contact.

In the ten minutes since then, she sat with a growing sense of unease and discomfort. She knew his eyes were on her. The look he gave her had been punishing, accusatory.

Jenny felt a warmth she couldn't quite explain as she felt his gaze on her profile.

Where the hell were Renee and Amy? She couldn't believe they picked a place like this for their night out. Dim and subdued, it had a dark, quiet atmosphere. It's just a restaurant, for God's sake. They would be here soon. Since her divorce two years ago, she had been making good strides at being more than just a mom and bookkeeper. Last year, she had met the other two divorced women at a school meeting, and instantly bonded. They too felt the need to get out in the world and experience things that had been missing while staying at home and raising kids for the better part of twenty years. So, as anxious as they had been this morning to try the new lobster and wine bar in the city, where the hell were they?

Richard watched the woman at the bar with irritation and interest. She was obviously ill at ease and probably knew she was in the wrong place. He ran a tight operation, and females like her had no reason to be here. She wasn't dressed like the forty-something women that usually frequented his club. No, she didn't look like she had picking up a stranger on her agenda tonight. Since opening this place five years ago, Richard knew his clientele pretty well. Single women, usually in their forties, dressed to kill and made-up enough to look like a beautiful corpse. All in the name of hooking up with the sixty to seventy-year-old "gentlemen " who came in most evenings. The men were looking for some strange, and the women didn't mind supplying it for a gold trinket or even the age-old commodity of cold, hard cash. Pretty and romantic it wasn't, and the hot little soccer mom was definitely in the wrong place.

Confusion and curiosity crawled through Jenny as she watched the people begin to fill the bar. This didn't look like the type of place her friends had been dragging her to for the past few months. Sixties classic rock played in the background. The mood was hushed with a quiet anticipation hanging in the air. Something like fear slid down her spine as she surreptitiously glanced back at the man in the booth. He was scanning the room and seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

He had a black leather binder spread out on the table in front of him, and two cell phones sitting next to it. Two cell phones? Her apprehension and suspicion increased. She saw the maitre d' come to his table and lean down and speak to him. She looked more closely. Maitre d', hell. The guy was a bouncer. Or a bodyguard. Holy crap.

He glanced back at her with a scowl and picked up his drink. For the first time, she noticed how good-looking he was.

His hair was dark with hints of grey, cut severely around his skull. He wasn't wearing a beard, but he looked as if he hadn't shaved in two or three days. There was a scar under his left eye about two inches long that looked like he had been in a fight years before and never had it properly stitched up. The same for his bottom lip. There was a jagged whiteness in the middle and a small puffiness that told Jenny it had been split open at one time. His clothes said something different about him. His suit looked expensive and like it was hand tailored just for him. Jesus Christ, he was a mobster in Armani.

Jenny swiveled back and grabbed her drink to steady her hand and give her something solid to do. Her nerves were pinched tight. She recognized the excitement running through her veins as sexual. Oh my God, did her hormones have to kick in now? She had been perfectly content since her divorce doing the alone thing. Why did the thug in the corner booth have to make her legs itch to cross and re-cross every few seconds? She had to get control of herself. She pulled her phone from her bag and begged the Almighty Father for a few bars. Please, just one. Just one bar to get a text through. No service. Still. Oh Christ. All alone. To wait, or not to wait.

She watched the mirror behind the bar as two more beautiful women came in dressed in slinky dresses and sling-backs. One blonde, one brunette, they seemed to work the room with one swift glance. She watched as they slid onto stools down the bar. They ordered something far more sophisticated than Jen's own screwdriver. She watched, quite dumbstruck as one woman turned to her friend and pushed the hair off the other girl's face. Jenny felt her stomach tingle as she watched the blonde's fingers drift down her friends shoulder and minutely adjust her shoulder strap. Was this for real or was she watching some kind of performance? And for what? Jenny's question was answered as she glanced around and saw several men staring at the girls sitting at the bar. One man was already getting up to make his move. Jenny sucked in a breath and grabbed her drink and immediately started choking.

"Are you all right? " The female bartender inquired with gentle eyes. She had been sweet to Jenny before when she couldn't even think of what drink to order.

Jenny cleared her throat and tried to relax. "Yes, thanks, I'm fine. It's kind of hot in here, isn't it? "

"It always starts to heat up about this time of night. I've worked here for six months and still can't believe some of the stuff I see. Why in the world are you in here? " The girl looked puzzled.

"Well, my friend Amy heard that the lobster in here is fantastic and- "

The girl behind the bar gave a gentle laugh. "Lobster? Are you serious? Don't let Richard hear me say this, but the best food served here is the shrimp basket. We aren't really famous for the food, if you know what I mean. "

Jenny didn't. She was just about to say so, when the bouncer guy came up and spoke in the bartender's ear and pointed to a closed door behind the bar.

The bartender looked in Jenny's direction and frowned a bit. "The boss wants to see you in the office, Miss. "

Shock hit Jenny. "What for? "

"I don't know. You've probably got a phone call. "

Richard had had enough of this bullshit. Anger and lust burned through his system. He didn't need any trouble tonight. After the altercation with the cops last week, and almost being busted for prostitution, he wasn't feeling in a very receptive mood. If the little piece at the bar was just in the wrong place, he needed to get her out of here before some old geezer tried to make it with her. He had been watching them, watching her, for the past half hour. Not that she had noticed. She was too busy watching the performance the sluts at the bar were putting on. It seemed unlikely that she could be a cop. A cop, even a smart one, could never look that innocent. He knew one thing. It was time to find out.

Jenny cautiously slid off the barstool. Even though she had only taken a few sips of her drink, the vodka was very definitely making its way to her head. A phone call! Thank God. Her friends were trying to get in touch with her. As she rounded the bar, she noticed the mobster was not looking in her direction for once. She walked around the bar and through a door that the girl opened for her. "The phone's over there. "

"Thanks. " The office was small and dark, with only a small lamp lit on a side table next to a couch. The only other furniture was a huge desk and the black leather chair that sat behind it. On the desk there was a laptop and a phone. She crossed the room and picked up the phone.

Richard followed her into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. As always, it locked automatically. He watched her drop the phone and turn all in one movement. Holy shit, this close up she was a babe. She looked good from across a room, but this close up she was walking sex. Everything about her was feminine. About five foot four or five, she was slim and tempting. Her shirt was tight across the chest, and her tits were small and totally succulent. Succulent. Yeah, he wanted to suck them, for sure. His brain seemed to shut down as his body took over. He felt the blood flow to his cock, and his hands fisted in anticipation. One thing his brain had told him before it shut down, was that she wasn't a cop. A cop would never look scared shitless.

The phone slid from Jenny's hand and the dial-tone sounded loud and out of place. She reached for the desk with one hand to balance herself as she tried to take in what she was seeing. She stopped breathing altogether as she saw the mobster leaning against the closed door. Fear slithered down her spine. Oh my God, he was huge. Just huge. He was tall and broad. He was wide. Wide shoulders like a line-backer. Jenny's brain felt scrambled and confused as she took a huge breath and began dragging oxygen into her starved lungs.

"What the hell are you doing with my phone? " Jenny flinched from his bark and felt her limbs stiffen as he walked toward her. She stood there, numb, as he put the phone back on its cradle. He was six inches away from her. She could smell him. He smelled good. An intoxicating mixture of male aggression and hot sexuality enveloped her senses. He smelled male, powerful, and dangerous. He smelled like she wanted to have sex with him. What the hell? Where had that come from? She never imagined having sex with strangers. Kissing them? Kissing them, yes. She thought about that a lot. But her mind shied away from anything more. But now this. This man, big and mean and scaring the shit out of her. And she was thinking about sex?

Jenny heard a phone buzz in his pocket. He put it to his ear and listened. He stared straight at her. She couldn't break eye contact. He spoke into the cell phone. "Yes. Handle it. " He paused to listen before issuing more instructions. "No, Goddamnit. We've given him all the chances he's going to get. Do it. " His words were clipped and biting. They engendered panic within her.

Richard ended the call and turned his attention to her. He reached out a hand to touch her hair. She flinched away from him.

Crap, man. Calm down. Just because he wanted to stick his dick in her didn't mean he had to scare her to death. He didn't want her to leave before he got it into her. He attempted to gentle his voice. "Sweetheart, who are you trying to call? "

Jenny took a breath and tried to think. "I was--no. Nobody. Sh--she said that I had a phone call. "

Richard looked at the woman in front of him. She was nervous. She was sexy. She was his next fuck.

"She must have been mistaken. I wanted to talk to you alone. That's all. " His voice was smooth. Deep and dark. It flowed through her veins like whiskey.

"Wh--why? I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything wrong. " Agitation laced her words.

"No. You didn't do anything wrong, " he agreed.

She looked at the door. She felt powerless and distrustful of his motivation. But she was enticed by his scent and held in place by his masculine presence.

Jenny tried to absorb the conversation. "Talk. That's all? " The mobster smiled. She watched his hand reach out in slow motion and pick up a lock of her hair. Her breathing fractured. They stood in silence as he rubbed her hair between his thumb and fingers. He tugged slightly. She stumbled. He reached out and steadied her. At the feel of his arms on hers, sexual excitement screamed through her. This could not be happening.

"Well, now that you mention it. That's probably not all I'd like to do to you. " Jenny stood motionless as he leaned against the desk and pulled her by the hair towards him. His legs splayed out and she fell into place between them. She tried to talk, but couldn't. She tried to move, but couldn't. She was immobilized by shock and need. She felt herself begin to pant. Her legs and arms were like jelly. She could feel herself shaking. Terror warred with excitement. He pulled her closer and her arms collapsed against his chest between them. His lips went to her ear and she felt his hands on her butt.

"Who are you? " Jenny got the question out just before she felt his lips move across her face and latch onto hers. His mouth was hard, and demanded something of her she didn't know if she could give.

He lifted his head. "Tell me your name. Why are you here? " He bit back at her.

He didn't give her a chance to answer. He didn't wait for permission.

His lips forced hers open and Jenny felt his tongue go deep at the same time his hand grabbed the back of her neck. He pulled his tongue out and pushed it back in again. Jenny leaned into him and let him hold her up because she had no choice. She would have fallen to the floor if it wasn't for his strength. She felt his other hand reach up between them and take hold of her breast. She couldn't get enough oxygen. She pulled her mouth from his and looked into his face. She watched him open his eyes and begin to devour her from top to bottom.

"Stop. Wait. Please stop. " Jenny tried to think and breathe. He was a stranger. He was holding her by the neck with one hand and by her boob with the other. And she couldn't step away from him. What was wrong with her?

"I'm Richard Bergeron. I own this bar. And you are in the wrong place. "

The man holding onto her so tightly growled the information at her. Then he bent his head again. He kissed her this time like he didn't want to be interrupted again. Apprehension increased the tension already flowing through Jenny. As much as she liked what he was doing to her, she had to stop him. She couldn't remember exactly why she had to stop him, but knew she had to.

Just as the strength came to her, his tactic changed. He let go of the breast he had been palming and instead found her nipple with his thumb. Jenny's mind exploded. Nothing could feel this good. Sex had never felt as good as this man just touching her nipple. Man, she was in serious danger of being a slut here. She couldn't do this. As much as she wanted to, she needed to find the strength to stop. The guy was obviously a mobster or something and that terrified her. No way could she get involved with him.