The TROUBLE With BILLIONAIRES: Book 1 (10 page)

It was Rawn Jackman.

I stayed under the blanket, unwilling to move, hoping Annie would take it as a sign I wasn’t in the mood for any man I had recently humiliated myself in front of.

Sadly, she didn’t.

“Come in,” she said. “She’s the blob under the blanket.”

Someone just had their name taken off the guest list for the launch
, I thought, irritated.

Slowly, I pulled my head out. “I’m not feeling too well, Rawn.” It was hard to lie. I hadn’t seen him in over a day. I’d almost forgotten how drop dead gorgeous he was.

Almost.

“So you’re Mr. Jackman,” Annie said. “It’s all starting to make sense. Perhaps I judged you too early. I’ll leave you two alone, but if you act like a jerk towards my friend again, remember, I’m a black belt in karate.”

No, she wasn’t. One day, I might appreciate the gesture, but not tonight. I did not want to be left alone with Rawn, knowing that after the incident with Luke, I had no control over my willpower, not when it came to Rawn.

But Annie was gone.

“Would you like to sit?” I asked, removing the blankets completely, trying to pretend I was more sophisticated than I was.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said. I couldn’t read his expression. It was as if he wore a mask. He reached his hand out. “Will you come with me?”

It was like handing a thief gold. I couldn’t resist. “Yes,” I said, standing. “I’ll go wherever you want.”

***

              “I didn’t see you at work today,” I observed, sitting next to Rawn in the back of his chauffeured car.

“I wasn’t at work today,” he told me. “I was overseeing a personal project.”

I smiled. “So you do have a life outside the office. I knew it.”

He took my hand. “No, she’s very much in the office. I heard you’ll be on the product launch team. Well done.”

It was such a plain conversation, but I knew nothing about the way Rawn and I felt about each other was plain. I could practically feel him tearing off my clothes. My mind, my heart, my will—they were all in a frenzy being so close to him. And yet we spoke plainly.

“I was afraid I was overstepping my bounds, but I’m glad that’s not the case.”

“With Conrad? No, he’s easy. He’d listen to a fly—if it could speak. Being a billionaire, he has nothing to lose.”

“He’s a billionaire? He said his company was small.”

“His company isn’t where he gets his fortune. It’s inherited. His grandfather invented the toaster or the garbage disposal or something like that.”

I had a feeling Rawn knew exactly what his grandfather had invented, but he was protecting Conrad’s privacy. “I take it he’s a friend?”

“He is, ever since Aurora joined the company. We like to shoot clay pigeons together.”

“How British,” I remarked.

Rawn laughed. “It’s therapeutic. I’ll take you sometime.”

You can take me now
, I thought.

The car stopped in front of one of the newer apartment complexes overlooking a river on the far edge of town—away from the university, away from Cepheus Scientific.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A secret,” Rawn replied. “Let me show you.”

Passing through a lobby decorated in green marble, Rawn led me to an elevator and hit the button for the top floor. The penthouse.

“Is this where you live?” I asked, my palms suddenly sweating with the anticipation of what would come next.

“No,” he said. “No more questions.”

I was disappointed, but I swallowed it, glad just to be in his company.

As it turned out, there was more than one apartment on the top floor. The one we entered was smaller than I’d imagined, but it was modern and pristine—with a breathtaking view of the river and the surrounding woodland.

“Is this our new love shack?” I joked.

“Of sorts,” he said, serious.

“Oh.”

Again, I was disappointed. Rawn had meant what he said when he’d warned me he could not offer me what I deserved. There would be no Sundays being lazy in his home, wherever that was. No sorting through his closet so that I could steal one of his shirts. We may have feelings for each other, but this was as far as it went.

Sex was just sex.

“You’re not married, are you?” I asked, feeling my temper rise out of my disappointment.

“No,” he said vehemently. “I’m not husband material. I’m selfish about my own time.”

“Then why do we have to travel all the way out here to fuck?”

His expression didn’t alter. “Because my home is like my office. Mostly, I just work there. Here is something entirely different. Here is where my heart is. Let me show you what I’ve been working on all day.” With his hand between my shoulder blades, he led me into the bedroom.

My mouth dropped open in awe.

The walls were freshly wallpapered in a lavish champagne gold—except for one wall that was almost entirely glass, looking out across the river and woodlands. Against it was a beige lounger with extensive embroidery within its cushions. At the back of the room, facing the glass, was a four poster bed with a matching beige satin comforter. Bordering the wall nearest to the bed was a wall of wardrobes built of wood so pale, it resembled sandstone.

“You’ve recreated our hotel suite in Italy,” I said, admiring the rich textures of the room, moved by the gift. “It’s wonderful.”

“There’s more,” he revealed. “And now, the secret.”

Lifting a remote from the bed, he pressed a button, causing the wardrobes to slide open.

Immediately, my body began to pulse. With all the blood rushing down to my core, I was left speechless. And turned on.

The wardrobe closest to the bed was the most tame, containing an array of lingerie on padded hangers, all in my size, from silk nightgowns to tiny fragments of leather that covered nothing, meant for visual pleasure only.

Beside it was a wall of vibrators on display as if they were Jimmy Choos. Gold ones that matched the room, small enough to hide in the palm of my hand. Big ones. Curvy ones. Popular ones. Every imaginable kind of vibrator there was.

But the vibrators were innocent compared to the final wardrobe. Lined in black velvet, it housed rows upon rows of handcuffs, whips, blindfolds, feathers, and other devices I had never seen before except in medieval paintings.

“You’ve created a sex room,” I said, trailing my hand along the lingerie. “Our own personal
Gabinetto Segreto
.”

“For you,” he told me, coming up behind me, moving my hair off my neck so that he could kiss it. “For your pleasure.”

“And yours, I’m sure,” I murmured, enjoying his kisses on my neck, hoping his lips would soon find their way to where my body pulsed the most.

“And mine,” he concurred.

“Then please me,” I cooed. “I’m here.”

“Not now,” he stated. “Rest here tonight. Explore the room. Explore yourself. I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t leave. Wait for me.”

“What about work?” I asked. “I can’t miss the first meeting for the product launch.”

He tensed and moved away. “The meeting isn’t until the end of the day. I’ll have you back by then. But there is something I’d like to talk to you about. Will you join me in the living room for a drink?”

Rawn was asking nicely. It unnerved me. Knowing him only as a cool, confident, passionate man, this mild side sent warning bells ringing in my head.

“Okay,” I said, not sure if everything was okay.

Taking a seat on the plush couch in the living room, I waited as he poured two glasses of champagne. When he joined me on the couch, he was back to the Rawn I knew—relaxed and in control.

“My assistant called me today from Fiji. She’s pregnant, so she’s decided to find employment less demanding of her time. She won’t be returning. It’s her choice, and I respect her decision.”

“Does that mean I get to keep her laptop?” I joked, afraid of where the conversation was headed.

“No. When her honeymoon is over, she’ll come to collect her stuff. Madison, I want you to be my new assistant.”

I no longer had to be afraid of where the conversation was headed. It was already there. I couldn’t escape it.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said, wishing I could throw a blanket over my head again. “I don’t think being so close to you will be good.”

“But you agreed to come with me here.”

“You know as much as I that I was never going to stay away forever. That’s why you created the secret room. It’s something we can share—in private. Away from everyone. Here, we can pretend that what we have isn’t dangerous, that neither of us is going to walk away from this brokenhearted. We can’t do that if we carry this…relationship into the office.”

Contemplative, he took a drink of his champagne. “Do you consider me incapable of love?”

I was taken aback. “Isn’t that what you’ve been warning me against?”

“I am very much capable of love,” he revealed. “It’s commitment I have an issue with.”

“You want to sleep with other girls?”

“No. I just don’t want to hurt the woman I’m sleeping with when I can’t give her everything she deserves. When she needs companionship but I’m at the office for a week straight. Or visiting my family. Commitment is a responsibility, and I’m tired of responsibilities. Love, on the other hand…that I enter into freely.”

Was Rawn telling me he loved me? It was impossible. We barely knew each other.

My heart was torn in a thousand different directions. If I understood correctly, I could have his bed, I could even have his heart, but I couldn’t have him.

It should have been reassurance. I was as dangerous for Rawn as he was for me. But I knew, deep down, it wasn’t enough. When it came to Rawn, I wanted it all. The only way I could stay sane trapped within my conflicting emotions was if we set boundaries…illusions that helped me forget what we could not share by focusing on what we could.

We could not share a lifetime. But we could share a few blissful hours each day, hours of forgetting.

“I prefer to work for Ms. Goldstein,” I said firmly. “It’s for the best.”

He was hurt. I knew because, for once, he didn’t try to hide it. In fact, he looked more than hurt. He was angry. He stood from the couch. “What is it that you are hiding? Is it your sister?”

It was, but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him.

In my silence, he continued. “Don’t live like this. Free yourself to me.”

“I have!” I claimed, my voice rising. “I’m here. Right now. I’m present. But don’t ask of me what you are not willing to give me in return.”

He looked just as conflicted as I was. “Are
you
capable of love, Madison?”

“Yes,” I said. “I am. And it’s because of my capacity to love that I say what I do. In the office—in the outside world—we’re colleagues. In the beautiful room you’ve created, we’re lovers. It’s the only way we’ll both survive this.”

He sat next to me once more. “I can’t change your mind regarding being my assistant, can I?”

“No. Is that what angers you? That I won’t do as you say?”

“I told you, dominance is about pleasing you. Anything I command of you is for your own good. Being my assistant is a promotion, a step up. It could be advantageous for you.”

Accepting that he was working in my best interest, I relaxed into the couch. “I think I’m doing just fine.”

He smiled, weary but proud. “Yes, you are.”

I leaned my head towards him. “Promise me you’ll still visit before work tomorrow.”

“I don’t need to promise. Nothing could keep me away.”

***

The rain was back. It pounded steadily against the window. This time, I took comfort in the melody it created. Without Rawn, the apartment felt quiet and empty, lacking some of its thrill.

I returned to the bedroom, and, intrigued, I went to the wardrobe with the lingerie. Immersing myself into the opulence Rawn had created, I chose a black satin camisole and shorts, over which I wore a fuchsia robe that cocooned my skin with its softness.

Dressed more appropriately for my environment, my curiosity propelled me to the last wardrobe—particularity to the row of whips. They looked like they belonged in an equestrian center, not a bedroom. I felt the leather tassels of one of the whips, wondering how it would feel if beat against my skin.

My phone buzzed on the bookshelf. It was a text message from Annie.

If he’s kidnapped you and is holding you prisoner in some dungeon, I need to know.

It was kind of true.

I’m a willing prisoner. He is free to tie me up as he wishes.

Too much information. Save the sexting for your man.

Fair enough. Thanks for being my girl.

Setting the phone down, I scanned the books on the shelf. They were all erotic, of course. Some of Kama Sutra. Others a lot more devious. The one that held my attention was a history book on the
Gabinetto Segreto
. It was heavy and laminated, like a picture book for the indecent.