The Billionaire's Disgraced Virgin (Billionaire Knights Book 2) (6 page)

H
er face had gone
bone white, Mike saw with a twinge of alarm, and her lips were quivering, her eyes wide and haunted and focused on the other side of the room, where a new arrival had just entered. He looked over and caught the recognition in the other man’s eyes as he regarded Chloe. Lewis Dixon, Holmes’s creative director, was a tall and spindly man, his hair descending to his shoulders and John Lennon glasses perched artfully on a hawk’s nose, fashionably adorned with a diamond stud. His wide mouth had twisted into a grin, revealing a gold front tooth, and it struck Mike that there was something cruel about his expression, something that instinctively made him dislike the other man. Nevertheless, he shook his hand when he joined them.

“So you’re the man responsible for Men’s Monthly,” he grated out.

Lewis Dixon had given Press Corp a new lease on life a couple of years ago, he knew. Infusing the group’s publications with a populist and rather lurid tenor. Most of them were now loaded with scantily-clad young women practically jumping off the page. It had given circulation numbers a boost, and Press Corp now dominated the market. And then there was Men’s Monthly, of course, the magazine that held an even more despicable reputation, its masthead the image of the kind of woman its readers obviously craved: young and innocent and having fallen prey to the kind of men he personally despised. Men like Dixon.

Something of his censoriousness must have rung through in his voice, for Dixon’s lips twisted into a grin. “I take it you’re not a fan, Mr. Knight?”

“Whether I’m a fan or not isn’t relevant,” he riposted. No, he wasn’t a fan, but he wasn’t about to get into an argument about morality or the lack thereof in the group he was about to acquire. Once he was in charge of Press Corp there would be plenty of time to implement some necessary changes and put the entire group’s portfolio on a different and less misogynistic footing.

“Knight doesn’t care about the content, Dixon,” Holmes interjected. “For him it’s all about sales and the sales are going through the roof at the moment.”

“Sales are great,” Dixon acknowledged with a leery smirk. “And as long as I’m in charge of editorial and creative direction they will stay that way.”

Mike didn’t deem it wise to respond to that challenge. He merely bowed his head in deference to Holmes, and told him, “We’ll have a closer look at those numbers tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” agreed Holmes, licking his lips. “You can have access to anything my CFO here has drawn up.”

Mike turned around to include Chloe in the conversation. He’d mainly wanted to introduce her to Holmes’s chief financial officer, with whom she would be working closely together. When he sought her out, however, he found that she was no longer amongst those present. Muttering an imprecation under his breath he had to acknowledge that on the first day of the negotiations Chloe Ross already was a no-show.

Chloe was racing along the corridors. The sight of recognition in Dixon’s eyes had been too much for her. Coming so soon upon the gratifying discovery that Holmes didn’t know who she was it was like a blow to her already feeble nervous system. She couldn’t possibly stay here in this place. She had to leave—get back to London. She didn’t care about her job anymore. She didn’t care that Mike would lash out furiously and make her pay for abandoning him like this—she simply needed to get away from here, needed to get away from Dixon!

Oh, God, she thought as tears streamed down her face. He would certainly ask Mike what her name was, which meant she’d have to start life all over again or be forced to suffer the consequences when Dixon informed the whole world of her whereabouts. Over the years her status as Men’s Monthly masthead girl had become iconic. Now there were even fan clubs devoted to her and the study of her pictures, as disgusting as that prospect was to her, and one of the highlights was the discussion of where she was now. What had happened to her? Why had she so suddenly disappeared? There were even rewards offered to anyone who could shed light on her present circumstances and offer pictorial proof of who’d she become and what she looked like these days.

She was quite certain that Dixon would revel in the fact that he’d found her again and would milk this as much as he could, plastering her face all over the front pages of his newspapers and magazines! Her life was over!

And she was hurtling along the corridors, blinded by her tears, when suddenly she ran into a wall—only it wasn’t a wall but Mike’s towering body!

He gripped her tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arms. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he thundered.

A wail of despair escaped her lips. “I can’t go through with this, Mike. I can’t—I simply can’t!”

He shook her, adding, “Why? Give me one good reason.”

He’d turned her around and was leading her back to the reception hall. Back to Dixon! She fought him. “No! I can’t go back there!”

“I’m not taking you back,” he grunted. “I’m taking you to your room, where you can get your act together and explain to me exactly what’s going on.”

Relief flooded her at the prospect of Mike taking her away from the man who’d tortured her and turned her life into a living hell, but it was short-lived, as he told her, “I need you to get a grip, Chloe. I need you to make sense of the numbers for me, you hear?”

She shook her head in dismay. “Just—just let me go, Mike. You can fire me, I don’t care. Just don’t keep me here.”

He cursed loudly. “Christ, who do you think I am? Henry the Eighth? Of course I’m not going to keep you here if you don’t want to be here.”

They’d started up the stairs, and she was glad for every foot she put between herself and Lewis Dixon. Once Mike was gone she’d simply pack up her meager belongings and get out of here. She’d call a cab and head back to London, to pick up the pieces of her life again.

They’d arrived on the landing and he was steering her toward a corridor, several doors leading off to what she supposed were guest bedrooms. He opened the first one on the right and led her inside, then closed the door behind him and eyed her furiously. “Now you’re going to tell me what’s going on between you and this Lewis Dixon guy and you’re going to tell me right now.”

He’d folded his arms across his chest and stood guard in front of the door. She saw there was no way to escape the inevitable. She needed to tell him what was going on. But for some reason the fear of him regarding her as most men had since those horrid pictures had appeared was even more alarming than the prospect of facing Dixon again. She didn’t know why but she simply couldn’t bear it for Mike to know the truth about her. To know that she was that girl. So she dithered, and told him, “Dixon and I were an item, a long time ago.”

He eyed her incredulously. “You and Lewis Dixon?”

There was a note of something in his eyes. If she hadn’t known any better she would have thought it was disappointment, but that was impossible. He didn’t care enough about her to warrant such a response. She nodded miserably, biting her lower lip. “Yes. We used to date. And then he dumped me and broke my heart.” It was the truth, after all, or at least a watered-down version of it.

Mike regarded her coldly. “So all this fuss over an old boyfriend. Must have been some love affair if you’re still so broken up about it.”

“It was,” she admitted, though not in the sense he thought.

He raked his fingers through his dark mane and emitted a humorless laugh. “So that’s why you didn’t want to come. Afraid to run into your old lover.”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice still shaky. “So you see, I can’t stay here,” she pleaded again. “I simply can’t be in the same room with him. Not after… not after what happened between us.”

Mike thought he’d never seen so much despair in a woman’s eyes. And he hated to admit it but the fact that she’d loved this Lewis Dixon so much provoked a response in himself that he didn’t quite know how to place. Anger, perhaps, and if he was being absolutely honest he might have called it jealousy, but that wasn’t possible, of course. Still, he was glad he’d finally discovered the source of Chloe’s reluctance, and that his suspicions about the other man had so obviously been justified. He really must have done a number on her, for her to still feel so torn up about him. “Look,” he told her, “why don’t you work from your room on this one? I’ll set up an office in here and will deliver you all the material I need you to go over.” He held up his hands when she started to protest. “You won’t have to come near the guy. I can even have your food brought up to you here if that’s what you want.”

She glanced at him hesitatingly. “I don’t know…”

“Christ, Chloe, need I remind you again of the importance of these negotiations? And of my power to make things very difficult for you?”

She inclined her head. “All right,” she responded softly. “I’ll stay… But I don’t know how useful I’ll be to you holed up here in this room.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure you’re plenty useful,” he told her in a low voice. Was that relief he felt? Relief she was staying on? Of course it was. Obviously he was relieved she wasn’t a corporate spy after all. That she could be trusted to see this deal through. He needed her here. Needed her at his beck and call. Professionally speaking, of course. Nothing more.

T
he moment Mike
had left Chloe felt a strange sense of bereavement, as if he’d taken a part of her with him. That was nonsense, she decided as she moved nervously over to the window, staring out across the grounds. She felt torn, she admitted. On the one hand she wanted nothing more than to stay here—for no other reason than that she could use the sojourn away from the stress and strife of the city and the loneliness of her small apartment. And on the other hand she couldn’t wait to flee this place, for she already knew that very soon now her new life would come crumbling down around her. It was only matter of time before Lewis informed his employer who Chloe Ross really was, and for Mike to learn the truth about her past. She imagined the contempt with which those dark eyes would sweep over her and pain lanced through her gut. She couldn’t bear it!

For now, she was safe, but how long before the news spread? With social media it would only take a second for Lewis to leak the news he’d found the Men’s Monthly girl, providing his millions of followers with juicy updates about her new life as they all lapped it up eagerly. She shivered, terrified of the future as it stretched out before her, cold and bleak.

She started violently when a knock sounded on the door. Then, expelling a tremulous breath, she called out, “Come in!” Her heart leaped at the prospect of Mike returning so soon after he left. But instead of Mike it was the loathsome form of Lewis Dixon who filled the doorframe, and she suddenly felt sick.

“So this is where you’re holed up,” he announced, quickly closing the door.

“Get out,” she managed once she’d regained control over her vocal chords. “Get out now!”

“Calm down, Gwen,” he said with a foul grin. “Or should I call you Chloe? Chloe Ross. Nice name.” He stood staring at her for a beat, drinking her in, and the sensation of his eyes as they crawled over her from head to foot had her trembling violently. “Look, the only reason I came up here is because I want to propose a deal,” Lewis finally said when he’d drunk his fill. “You look great, by the way. Haven’t changed a bit.” He gestured to her hair. “Well, except for the color, of course. I think I liked you better as a brunette.” He glanced nervously at the door, and it was obvious he wasn’t keen on being discovered by Mike.

This knowledge gave her the power to cry out, “If you don’t leave this instance I’m calling Mike!”

He grinned. “So it’s Mike, huh? On a first name basis with the boss already. Nice work, Gwen. Now, listen, I’m pretty sure this Mike character doesn’t know who you really are, and I’m willing to let it stay that way. Are you listening to me? I’ll keep my mouth shut about what happened between us five years ago.”

“What happened was that you betrayed me in the worst possible way!”

“That’s not how I remember it, but anyhoo, like I said I’m willing to keep this all under wraps, providing…”

Dread filled her. For some reason she knew what he was going to suggest even before he told her.

He was rubbing his goatee, and she noticed the ‘mummy’ tattoo on the knuckles of his right hand. “You’re Mike’s financial point person on this deal if I understood him correctly. Well, let’s just say it’s in both our best interests if you give him the right information. That is to say, the information I’ll supply.”

This wasn’t really happening. “You want me to deceive Mike?”

“Of course not,” he said with a smirk. “I just want to make sure he’s got all the right data to make an informed decision about the purchase price. Do that little thing for me and I’ll conveniently forget all about Gwen Parker.”

“You’re disgusting,” she spat.

“You didn’t seem to think I was disgusting the last time we met.”

“I was a different person then. And I didn’t know you like I do now.”

He yawned. “You know, whatever, right? Just make sure you feed him my numbers and as far as I’m concerned all is forgotten.”

She wanted to tell him there was no way she was going to deceive Mike. That she wasn’t going to lend herself to this kind of blackmail. But she knew there was no other way. If she didn’t agree, Lewis would expose her, and then her life was over. Her shoulders sagged, and the look of triumph on his face told her all she needed to know about the kind of man Lewis Dixon had become. Back then he’d been an ambitious photographer, willing to tread over others to make a name for himself. Now he was a corporate stooge who didn’t mind stooping to blackmail to further his paymaster’s financial gain. He’d beaten her. And the moment he’d left she sank onto the bed, and was reduced to tears.

Mike saw that creepy Lewis Dixon fellow exit Chloe’s room just as he was mounting the stairs, and his eyes narrowed even as a fresh wave of anger tore through him, obliterating the goodwill with which he’d started to view Chloe. Immediately all his old suspicions returned to the fore. Had she been playing him? Was she secretly colluding with this guy, giving him information about Knight Enterprises so that he could report back to his boss? If she was she was even more manipulative and devious than he’d thought. Feeding him her sob story about a lost love and then inviting that same ex-boyfriend into her room?

Then it struck him. She’d never gotten over him. She was still pining for the guy. A sudden burst of jealousy was added to the unstable mix that was his emotional state. Instinctively he knew he was right. Dixon was using her to spy on him—to supply Press Corp with vital information on Knight Enterprises.

He would have knocked but under the circumstances he’d lost any sympathy he might have had for her. And as he stepped into the room, fully intent on telling her to clear out, he was struck by the sight of her sobbing on the bed, crying as if her world had just ended. His lips tightened. It was obvious she was still crazy about Lewis Dixon. So why then did he suddenly find himself cradling her in his arms, rocking her gently, her tears wetting his shirt?

It felt good to be in Mike’s arms, she thought, even as a fresh burst of tears came at the thought of her position, embarrassment keeping her mum. But then she clung to him, enveloped in his warmth, pressed firmly against his hard musculature. And as she placed a hand on his chest, she could feel the thumping of his heart sound out a heavy beat, and desire suddenly kickstarted into existence. The arid wasteland of her sensuous nature, having been deprived of nourishment for so long, suddenly rose up and asserted itself. The telltale tightening of her breasts was almost painful, the sudden need churning in her core impossible to ignore. And even as her tears dried, the whirlwind of desire swept through her veins, causing her to lift her head, her lips still trembling, her eyes still wet, and before she could stop herself she brushed against his throat, the urgent need to feel him, to taste him, overpowering all restraint.

Mike knew the exact moment the nature of his embrace changed to one charged with eroticism. It was when Chloe pressed up against him, her soft curves mashing against his chest, her hand placed between them, fingers trembling. And when she lifted her head, her face a vision of fragility and vulnerability, he focused on her lips, open and inviting and pink. And then she was kissing his jawline and his hand cupped her face and their eyes met, hers deep and blue and swaddled in shadows, his ignited with a primal fury. His lips descended upon hers, and he was surprised to find her mouth warm, wet and inviting. His desire kicked up another notch when her tongue stole out and stroked against his with deft little jabs that were so erotic the next moment found him diving in deep, penetrating the hot wetness, deeply exploring the mystery within.

Velvet slashes of hot arousal swept through her with each flick of his tongue, with each thrust into the welcoming hollow of her mouth, and the need that had erupted inside her lower body became a forest fire, ablaze with urgent yearning to feel his hands on her, to experience his lips on the aching peaks of her breasts, her nipples throbbing painfully. With a soft groan she unbuttoned his shirt, and the moment her fingers curled into his bare chest a keening moan escaped her throat even as she arched back, wantonly offering herself to him.

His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers kneading the soft globes through the silky material covering them. With a desperate cry she tore at the blouse, causing buttons to skitter away like the last vestiges of her self-imposed celibacy, her body on fire. Mike’s kisses were igniting a trail of fire along her neck to her collarbone even as his strong fingers made short shrift of the clasp of her bra.

His lips found and closed over her aching nipple, sucking the puckered pink flesh voraciously, his fingers splaying against her lower back as she pressed herself against him with a yearning she’d never before experienced. The dry timber of her sexuality was suddenly ablaze with a fire that threatened to engulf her and throw her headlong into the path of Mike’s heated caress. What was happening to her? Where was the unassuming woman who dressed demurely in a bid to avoid male attention at all cost? Gone, obliterated under the combined onslaught of Mike’s potent sexual appeal and her own traitorous response.