The Bad Boy Billionaire's Girl Gone Wild (8 page)

BOOK: The Bad Boy Billionaire's Girl Gone Wild
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Roxanna laughed and I bit back a grin.

“Are you done yet?”

“For the moment.”

“So in spite of my best intentions, I didn’t avoid him. He wants me to give up my writing and just be his . . . secret mistress of pleasure.”

“There’s the title for your next book.”

“I was thinking
Wallflower Gone Wild,
actually.”

“I like it. Even better, I like the research it will require.” Roxanna then grinned and listed some historically appropriate wild behavior. “What are we going to do? Show some ankle? Spike the punch? Ravish some handsome gentlemen? You know, for research.”

“That’s what the other night was. Research. I was experimenting with breaking all the rules, ignoring my better judgment, being spontaneous and listening to my desire instead of my brain.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

“It was good at the time. The silence that has followed? Not so good. I really have to avoid him, Roxanna. And
my
definition of avoid, not yours.”

A
FTER DINNER, WE
made our way over to the party, walking slowly so that we could check out all the shop windows on Elizabeth and Mulberry streets.

“So listen . . .” Roxanna began. “If a devastatingly handsome British guy starts talking to us, I need you to disappear.”

“Who is this devastatingly handsome British guy?”

“My boss.”

“Roxanna . . .” I nudged her and grinned and she actually blushed and looked away.

“My boss’s boss, technically.”

“I suppose you have an urgent business matter that must be discussed tonight or else a global catastrophe will result.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“And by business matter I mean—”

“OK, stop talking. We’re here, and I cannot have anyone overhear this conversation,” Roxanna said. She pushed open a non-descript door and we started climbing three incredibly steep flights of stairs. We passed through amazingly sleek and modern offices before continuing up another flight of stairs. And then onward to the roof.

It was a warm and bright city night and we could see it all from the roof deck. Hundreds of people were crowded in. A DJ was spinning and a few people were dancing though most stood around in conversation.

We fought the crowd at the bar and got drinks—whisky for Roxanna and a vodka tonic for me. I eyed the guys standing around us. Like Duke, they all wore T-shirts advertising their startups, or plaid shirts and skinny jeans. I bet they all worked in tech and many of them were probably developers.

“C’mon, let’s go chat to hot guys with stock options,” Roxanna said, drawing us over to a group standing near the edge of the roof. They were cute. Definitely cute. I realized that I had gotten so used to being a wallflower and a nobody that I was taken aback when these guys recognized me after Roxanna performed introductions.

“You’re Jane Sparks?
The
Jane Sparks?” A guy named Adam asked incredulously.

“The one who wrote that smutty book about Duke Austen?” asked a brainy guy with thick black-framed glasses.

I hesitated. Then I answered. “Yes.”

To my surprise they all had tons of questions about what was real and what wasn’t, how much research I did, how it was selling, what self-publishing was like, and a dozen other questions about writing the book. That lasted five minutes; then they asked me questions about Duke and Project-TK. As I tried to answer, I noticed Roxanna’s gaze roaming around the roof deck.

When she stood up straighter, smiled and tossed her red hair over her shoulder, I followed her gaze to a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman. He came over toward us and Roxanna performed the introductions.

“Jane, this is Damien Knightly. This is my friend Jane.”

“How do you do?” He asked politely in a British accent. I could see why Roxanna was smitten. He was handsome, mysterious and had a sexy accent.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied. “If you excuse me, I need to find the ladies room.”

I wandered off through the crowds, trying to keep my gaze low. And then the crowd parted and there was no way I could miss him. Duke: beer in hand, wearing a black T-shirt that said “Feel my Chartbeat” with dark, broken in jeans, and chatting with a bunch of people. Then he turned, saw me, and smiled, and the sight of him took my breath away.

He stepped away from the group and walked over to me.

“Hey there, Sweater Set.”

“Hello, Duke.”

“So is your father a thief?” Duke asked, apropos of nothing.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, utterly confused. Duke just grinned and said, “Because he must have taken the sparkle from the stars and put them in your eyes.”

I burst out laughing. “Really? Is this how you chat up girls at parties?”

He just grinned and kept going with the bad pickup lines. “Hey, Jane. Can you give me directions?”

“To where?” I asked nervously.

“To your heart,” he said half sweetly, half joking. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Is it not on Google maps?” I inquired.

“I tried using Apple Maps. Maybe that’s the problem,” he said.

“I’m sure you can find the way,” I said softly.

“I wondered if I might see you here,” he said, smiling down at me.

“I’m with Roxanna.”

“Your gossipy friend.”

“She’s not the only one gossiping,” I said as I became aware of a hush stealing over the rooftop. Everyone was staring. I dropped my voice and said, “I think everyone else is talking about us right now.”

“Fuck ’em,” he muttered in that devil-may-care manner of his that I admired and envied—and that caused him a lot of trouble.

“What happened to your reputation above all else?” I asked. “What happened to Project-TK needing you to be at work 24/7?”

I was achingly aware of the distance between us—a few feet, very respectable. I was also achingly aware of how much I wanted to close that distance. “Wanted” wasn’t quite the right word, though. I had never really understood magnetism until this moment. I was helplessly drawn to him and it took all of my strength to fight the inevitable.

“So it’s not working out like I planned,” he said.

“That’s a bummer. I’ve found I sometimes need to delete a few pages.”

“Same with code,” he replied. “But I mean you, Jane, and this.” He gestured vaguely to the distance between us and I understood.

He was securing his fortune and his glory. I was writing another book that would cause another scandal when I published it. Professionally, we were both achieving more than we’d ever dreamed. This was exactly what we wanted, wasn’t it?

“Too bad we can’t cut and rewrite in real life,” I said.

“How much would you delete?”

“Hmm . . . I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“God, I just want to touch you,” he said softly.

“If you touch me now . . .” I said warningly.

“Then everyone will start talking and tweeting about it and they’ll forget about that other thing you do.”

“But if I walk away . . .”

“Then I’ll be lonely tonight,” he said softly, with a sad smile. More than anything, I wanted to run my fingers through his dark, tousled hair and press my lips to his. “But I know, it’s for my own good. So see you later, Sweater Set.”

This time, when he said the words, his voice sounded bittersweet. We both faded back into the crowds. I wandered around looking for Roxanna, but she must have left with that guy. It was a lovely night and I wasn’t quite ready to go home, so I got another drink. And just as I was stepping back from the bar, I bumped into Duke, spilling my drink.

“If you spill on your shirt, you should probably remove said shirt,” he suggested with a naughty smile. “Right here. Right now.”

“Or I’d have to go home immediately. Alone,” I replied.

“And then take your shirt off,” Duke said. Relentless. “So let’s condense those lines of code and get to the end result. You, and your shirt off.”

“You are ridiculous,” I said. But God, I missed him. And this is why it was dangerous for me to see him: because I forgot about love and thought only about lust. And really, I couldn’t give up on my career for a guy.

For a moment we just stood there. Gazes locked. There was so much to
say.
All sorts of heartfelt feelings and intense, relentless longing for his touch. My gaze dropped to his mouth and then I only thought of one thing.

“What were you thinking about?” Duke asked.

“Oh, silly female thoughts about feelings.”

“Is that all?” he asked, as if he could read my mind.

“And kissing,” I answered softly. Even though I was thinking of more than that: I compared his kiss to Sam’s. There was no comparison. But Sam’s kiss was the last on my lips—again—and I wanted the memory of Duke’s touch instead.

“Kissing is not a silly female thought,” Duke answered.

“No?”

“You should do it more often,” he said, his voice grave. “Do you know what’s even better than thinking about it?” the question was punctuated with a lift of his brow and a slight upturn of his lips.

“Actually kissing.” When I answered my voice was breathless. His gaze dropped to my mouth.

“Exactly,” he murmured.

At that moment, someone stepped in to talk to Duke—that’s how it was being out with him. Everyone wanted to be his friend, pitch their startup, inquire about a job at Project-TK or ask his advice. I remembered the way he moved through the crowd at a party on the first night I saw him—everyone reached out to talk to him and he swaggered through like he was Someone. As always, he was generous with his time and thoughts, always willing to engage in conversation with new people. I admired that.

It also gave me an excuse to wander away.

To my surprise, I stumbled into Roxanna.

“I thought you left. With that guy.”

“He left,” she said. And then, glancing around to ensure no one was listening, she said, “And I’m leaving in a few minutes.”

“Want to split a cab home?”

“You’re so sweet, but no way,” Roxanna said with a wicked grin. “I’m not going home.”

“I guess your night is only just beginning,” I said slyly. “Now remember, tonight is a school night.”

Roxanna laughed and said, “Talk to me for ten more minutes and then I’ll make my exit. And what will you do?”

I glanced into the crowd. I saw Duke. He saw me. Our gazes locked. For a moment I didn’t notice anything else—not the other people, or the city skyline all lit up. For a moment I felt like one of my heroines. Shy, always standing off to the side, and oh-so-tempted. And also stuck between my own desires, the “right” thing to do and what everyone would think.

“I’m going home, too,” I told Roxanna. A little bit later, I was just about to leave when I noticed my name. They were projecting tweets about the party up on the windowless wall of a nearby building. On another wall, they were projecting a live video stream of the party. Both were so big and bright they could surely be seen by everyone at this party as well as everyone on the street, and anyone with a view of those walls.

It was the tweets that caught my attention.

At #GawkerRoof party with @DukeAusten and his “fiancée” @Jane_Sparks. Waiting to see if sparks fly.

Amused watching @DukeAusten and his girl try to avoid each other on the #GawkerRoof.

I turned around, back to the wall. And then I saw Duke. He was leaning against the railing with the New York City skyline illuminated behind him.

There was no denying it: The sight took my breath away. There was no one like him and nothing like this city. Together they were an intoxicating combination.

I strolled over. I blamed magnetism.

“What if I changed my mind?” Duke asked.

“Did you?” I asked.

“Did
you
?” He echoed.

“I’m writing another book,” I told him.

“What’s this one about?”

“Another wallflower. She’s been far too good for far too long. It’s gotten her nothing but this awful fiancé and she’s trying desperately to get out of the engagement.”

“Why would she want to do that?” he asked softly. We weren’t just talking about my characters anymore.

“Because she wants real love,” I explained. “True love. Shout it from the rooftops love.”

“Given that we’re on a rooftop, is that a hint? Should I shout out my love from you from this rooftop, right now?”

“Only if you meant it. Or else if you didn’t . . .”

“You know, I’ve been working like crazy. We’ve started prepping for an IPO.”

“Congratulations.”

“You don’t get what that means, do you?” There was a spark in his eye that made my heart beat faster. “Once the bell rings at the stock exchange, I don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks anymore.”

I got it. Oh, I got it. Once that bell rang, he’d be a billionaire. He’d have broken the curse. He’d be free to do whatever he wanted—like be with me. For real.

“And then what will you do?” I asked, linking my finger around the belt loop of his jeans.

Duke lowered his head. I turned my face up to his. His lips claimed mine for a delicate, tentative kiss.

If I grabbed a fistful of his Chartbeat T-shirt and pulled him closer . . .

If we didn’t have to worry about what people thought anymore . . .

I’d feel his rock-hard body against mine.

If I felt his body against mine, I’d start to lose my mind and everyone at this party would start talking about it. There would be a video online of me losing control and I’d never live it down.

Duke cupped my face in his hands, holding me gently like I was the most precious thing in the world. My hands slid down the length of his chest, down along his back to rest against his ass. Urging him against me I felt just how much he wanted me. I sighed, desperate to satiate my desire for him.

My lust for Duke had a way destroying my best intentions and annihilating my better intentions.

If I went home with him now . . .

Then I’d be breaking all our rules.

Why, why, why did that have to make everything so much more appealing? The good girl thing to do would be to disentangle myself immediately and put myself in a cab.

BOOK: The Bad Boy Billionaire's Girl Gone Wild
5.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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