TheBillionairesPilot (3 page)

He lifted a single brow. “Was that your
original plan for the night?”

She nodded. “Something like that.”

“Then you must be glad Dan convinced you
to join me,” he said it as if she should be grateful to him when, in reality,
she was the one honoring
his
request for a dinner companion. The man certainly
knew how to do arrogant, and she absolutely refused to give in to the weaker
side of herself that responded with a tingle between her legs.

“Mr. Jacobs led me to believe this was of
the utmost importance to the company. Though, I can’t imagine why having dinner
with your helicopter pilot could be so important.” Her fingers fidgeted with
the napkin in her lap, the only outward sign of her nervous energy, she hoped.

“As the president of a multi-billion
dollar conglomerate, it is very important who I have dinner with—just as
it is important who I take with me on my upcoming business trip.”

Forget arrogant, this guy had reached the
highest altitude of egotistical, and unfortunately, her inner sub was
responding by waving her hands and yelling, “Pick me, pick me. I want to be
important.”

Damn girl, get yourself under control.
She squeezed her thighs tighter together.

“But I need to get to know you better
before I go into those details,” Evan continued.

“Mr. Mitchell, I only agreed to this
dinner because your assistant insisted you had a business proposal for me that
had to do with a trip to San Miguel. I don’t see why getting to know me better
should influence when you get to the details.”

“To begin with, you need to call me Evan.
And this isn’t just about business. There’s also a personal side to it.”

Red flags waved in front of Cassie’s
eyes. She absolutely could not get personal with her boss…
again
. “In
that case, I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake in coming here,
Evan
.” She set
her napkin on the table next to her plate and pushed back her chair, but before
she could stand he reached for her hand and firmly grasped it. His palm was
rough, as if he engaged in physical labor, which surprised her. Why would a man
of his position bother to exert himself when he could just pay someone to do
the work for him? Could those possibly be calluses from a wielding a whip? She
shivered with the thought and immediately dismissed the idea as crazy thinking.

“Miss Maynard, please stay long enough
for me to explain the situation.” He held her gaze as if challenging her to
stay.

She waited a moment for her pulse rate to
slow. It wasn’t fair that his touch should send her blood pounding so hard
through her veins, or that she found it nearly impossible to back down from a
challenge, especially one from a man who was behaving like a Dom.

She drew in a breath and released it
slowly. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I would have preferred we went over the
details after becoming better acquaint—”

“It’s now or never, Evan,” she cut him
off, using her captain voice and shifting back into her safe vanilla persona.

“I see that.” He withdrew his hand from
hers, and she strongly reminded herself that was for the best, even as she
regretted the loss of his warm contact.

“I’m proposing a paid weekend vacation on
a Caribbean island with light social duties. You get to dress up, meet
interesting people, and professionally represent Mitchell Industries at my
side.”

“Sex?” she asked, wanting all the cards
laid out on the table.

Both his brows shot up as his eyes
widened. Then his lips slanted to a cocky angle as his eyes scanned her open
neckline appraisingly. “If you’d like.”

“No,” she firmly stated.

For a moment, she thought he’d push her
further to agree, but then he settled back in his chair with a resigned look.
“As you wish.”

“And if I don’t agree to go with you?”

“I’m not threatening to take your job
away if you’re worried about that. But having you accompany me would be a great
help to the company you now work for, and you’ll be compensated for it
accordingly.”

Thinking about the very real threat of
being evicted from her apartment before she could cash her first paycheck at
the end of the month, she scooted her chair forward. “How well compensated?”

Tilting his head slightly, he looked
thoughtful. “What do you earn an hour?”

“I’m salaried.”

“Give me a number to work with.”

Having been forced to count every penny
as she planned how to get out of debt, she knew her salary broke down to
twenty-six dollars an hour, but she was going to shoot higher. She had to catch
up on Jeff’s car payment, or his family was going to lose their only vehicle.
“Forty dollars an hour,” she bluffed.

His measured gaze didn’t reveal whether
he believed her or not. “Okay. We’re talking about forty-eight hours of weekend
employment, which I’ll round up to fifty to make it easier to calculate.”

Had he just insulted her? Did he think
she was mathematically incompetent and couldn’t multiply forty times
forty-eight? What a conceited ass.

“At forty dollars an hour,” he continued,
“that’ll be two thousand dollars, plus whatever clothes you’ll require.”

Damn. Even if he was an ass, he was
offering her two thousand dollars for a weekend on a Caribbean island. Her
shaky financial ground was starting to feel a little more solid.

He must have mistaken the shock on her
face for disappointment because he added, “Of course, with after-hours’
overtime factored in, I’d make that twenty-five hundred.”

To escort him to a tropical island and
not have sex with him, he was willing to pay her
twenty-five hundred dollars
?
That would give her enough to keep Jeff’s minivan from being repossessed and
maybe appease her landlord for a while until she could come up with the rest of
her overdue rent.

She studied the man across the table.
Would he go higher with his offer? A little more and she might be able to put a
stop to the harassing phone calls from the credit card company.

She did some quick mental
math—which he apparently hadn’t thought she was capable of—before
making her counteroffer. “Technically, since I will be working all weekend, all
my time should be reimbursed at the overtime rate, which is usually time and a
half for wage workers. In addition, the fifty hours only covers Saturday and
Sunday. What about Friday night’s hours? Plus, you’ve got my time at this
dinner tonight.”

She made a show of checking her watch,
then looked up to meet his dark stare. She nearly faltered at the intensity in
his gaze, but the threat of homelessness kept her pushing on. “So, let’s add
another ten hours, which would give us sixty hours at sixty dollars an hour for
thirty-six hundred.”

The candlelight flickered in his eyes,
giving him an unreadable expression. Had she pushed him too far? How badly did
he need her to go with him? She held her breath, waiting for his answer. She
knew in negotiations that keeping silent could lead to big payoffs.

He inhaled deeply and his chest swelled
under his navy dress shirt, drawing her attention to his breadth and firing up
her girl parts. Oh, why couldn’t she have a preference for thin, scrawny men?

Slowly, he let the air out. And still she
kept her mouth closed, anticipating his response.

“So,” he finally spoke, “if I rounded up
to a nice even four grand, you would accompany me on this weekend trip?”

Her stomach somersaulted. Swallowing
hard, she tried not to toss the sparkling water she’d sipped earlier. “Yes. For
four thousand dollars, I will be your date
without sex
this weekend.”

“You’re asking for twice the amount of my
original offer?”

“Yes, I am.” She clenched her hands together
in her lap to still any twitches, refusing to reveal her tell.

He studied her, as if to appraise her
worth.

She pasted a Mona Lisa smile on her face
and hoped her years of playing poker with her dad’s Navy buddies would pay off.

“Fine,” he conceded. “An even four
grand.”

She let out a mental whoop while keeping
a benign smile on her face. “Then you have a deal, Mr. Mitchell. Shall we shake
on it?” She leaned forward and held her hand out over the table toward him.

“Yes, but you must call me Evan, as we
are supposed to be a couple.” His fingers caressed her palm as he released her
handshake.

Unwanted shivers scattered her senses for
a moment. “Yes. Evan,” she managed to say, hoping she didn’t sound as
breathless as she felt.

It was at that moment she knew she was
playing with explosive ordnances here, and her only experience in the past had
ended with her getting badly burnt. She would need to work extra hard to keep
herself at a safe distance from Evan’s potent sensuality.

The corners of his lips rose in a
self-congratulatory smile. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with
you.”

Cassie fought the urge to flee as he
placed the first land mine.

Chapter Three

The following
afternoon, dressed comfortably in khakis and a black linen shirt for San
Miguel, Evan settled next to Cassie in a leather seat on the company jet.

“Do you need anything before we take
off?” he asked her.

“You mean like a preflight cocktail?” She
looked up after buckling her belt.

“It’s only two o’clock. Do you always
drink this early in the day?”

She grinned. “No, I was just teasing. I’m
fine. Thanks.” She wriggled in her seat as if to find the most comfortable spot
then looked out the window.

He studied her profile while pretending
to watch the busyness of the Boston airport over her shoulder. Their dinner the
previous night had been unexpectedly entertaining. Not only had she cleaned up
nicely in a sexy dress, she’d turned out be a gutsy negotiator, even though
he’d easily been able to read her face and body language, a skill he’d honed
through his years as a Dom.

He’d gotten a kick out of her bargaining
strategy and had willingly given in to her demand for more money. He would have
paid her twice what she’d asked if he’d needed to. Hell, he’d spent at least
that much on jewelry for his last girlfriend’s Christmas present.

Although he’d enjoyed the interplay with
Cassie, he hadn’t wanted to push her too far. It was too important to have her
with him this weekend. For the health of Mitchell Industries, he needed this deal
to go through with Xavier and having a woman at his side was Xavier’s
requirement.

After his negotiations with Cassie,
they’d enjoyed a delicious dinner and lively conversation. She’d entertained
him with amusing stories of growing up a Navy brat, but he couldn’t help
noticing the hint of sadness in her tone the few times she’d mentioned growing
up without a mother’s influence. There’d also been an underlying tension in her
words when she mentioned her father, and for some reason, he’d wanted to push her
into telling him why.

Evan had delayed their departure for San
Miguel until this afternoon, so Cassie could do some emergency shopping for the
weekend. He scanned her from head to toe. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d gone for
a complete makeover, and the results were impressive. She looked every inch the
part of his socialite girlfriend.

Her hair was cut shorter in a way that
stylishly curled around her shoulders. Her fingernails were polished, as were
the toenails peeking out of her strappy heels, and they matched the bright pink
sundress she wore under her white cardigan.

When they reached San Miguel, she wasn’t
going to need that sweater anymore, and he was anticipating the opportunity to
brush his fingers along the soft skin of her bared shoulders as he helped to
slide it off her.

He’d been taken aback by his enflamed
reaction when she’d opened her hotel room door last night. She’d changed so
completely from the androgynous helicopter pilot into a sexy woman, he almost
hadn’t believed it was the same person.

Her brown hair had fanned around her
heart-shaped face and hung just below her shoulders. Her skin had looked soft
and smooth, but it was her eyes that had really caught his attention. The
startling blue sparked with life and a touch of heat that his body responded to
with an answering burn.

It wasn’t just the way she looked because
he was used to being around sexy, sophisticated women. There was something else
about Cassie that got his blood running hotter. Maybe it was the spicy floral
scent with the Asian undertone swirling around her that put his senses on full
alert, but his instincts whispered it was something deeper.

Whatever it was, he was glad to have
three days to immerse himself in it. He was looking forward to this weekend
reprieve from the long hours he’d been putting in at the office, though he was
expecting a tough negotiation with Xavier tomorrow.

Once they were airborne, Dan appeared at
Evan’s elbow and handed him a stack of printouts. “I think you should look
through these before your meeting with Xavier.”

“What are they?” Evan asked, while next
to him, Cassie pulled a paperback novel out of the handbag resting at her feet.
He caught a glimpse of a dark cover with red letters. It looked like a murder
mystery, the kind of book he used to enjoy when he had time to read something
other than business reports.

“I told you Linders was going after
Xavier too,” Dan said, “but there’s no way he can match what we can offer.
These are his financials.”

Evan stared at the older man, debating
whether or not he wanted to know how Dan had got his hands on this information.
He decided some things were best left unspoken. “Thanks, Dan.”

As the older man returned to his seat at
the rear of the plane, Evan bent his head over the columns of numbers and
silently thanked his father for having such a useful assistant. Evan’s
negotiating position would be so much stronger with this information.

After nearly an hour of deciphering
Linders’ financials, Evan stuck the papers in his briefcase under his seat.
Then he stretched his arms above his head and arched his back to work out the
kinks.

Cassie had remained at his side, silently
reading her book the entire time. Now, she glanced at him and smiled. “Ready to
talk?” she asked.

“Talk?” he repeated dumbly, dropping his
arms to his sides.

Her eyes widened as she studied him.
“Don’t you think we need to work out the back story of our relationship before
we meet your business associate?”

“Right. Do you have any suggestions?” He
bent his head to the left and right, stretching out his tight neck muscles. He
hated how this business made his body so stressed, but it was a small sacrifice
to pay after neglecting his family for so many years. That was something he was
never going to be able to make up for.

She nodded. “The only sticky part is why
did you just hire me as your helicopter pilot if we’re supposed to have been in
a relationship for a number of weeks.”

He rubbed at a knot in his shoulder while
he thought. “You resisted working for the company until you saw where our relationship
was heading.”

“Where is it heading?”

He shrugged, wincing at the stiffness in
his muscles. “More than casual, but neither one of us is looking for a lifetime
commitment yet.”

“Okay,” she looked away for a bit before
continuing, “now for the hard question.”

He glanced at her. “Shoot.”

Without hesitating, she faced him and
asked, “Why did you break up with your last girlfriend?”

His answer came easily. “She broke up
with me because she got engaged to another guy.”

“Ouch.”

He shook his head. “It was okay. She
wasn’t the love of my life, but she put me in this awkward position for the
weekend…”

“In which you had to hire a companion,”
she finished for him.

He decided it was time to turn the
tables. “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?”

Her eyebrows rose in a mock innocent
expression. “Who says I had a boyfriend?”

“Because you’re what twenty-five years
old? I’m pretty damn sure you’ve had a boyfriend or two in your life.”

“Twenty-seven,” she corrected him,
meeting his gaze. Then she bowed her head and played with a button on her
sweater. “Trent was perfectly charming until I found out what a sleaze he
really was.”

“How’d you meet?”
And why do I have
the sudden urge to plow my fists through him?

Her eyes darted up to his, but she
hesitated before saying, “He was my last boss.”

“So, you make a habit out of dating your
boss?”

“No!” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s
prohibited in the Army, and it was the first civilian job I had after leaving.
I’d never dated my boss before.” Her words were spoken fast and sharply.

He held up a palm to placate her. “Didn’t
mean to press on a sore spot.”

Shaking her head, she said in a softer
tone, “I guess the part that hurts more than I’d like to admit is that I was
such a bad judge of character. I really was fooled by him.”

Her tone made it sound like more than her
pride was bruised, perhaps her heart as well. “How’d you find out he was a
sleaze
?”
he asked, using her word.

She grimaced. “I heard from the company
gossip vine that he made a habit of bedding new female employees.”

“Sounds like sexual harassment.” His
anger rose at the idea of a man in authority mistreating women, and he didn’t
miss the irony. People who didn’t understand BDSM often accused Doms of abusing
their subs, but what they didn’t understand was that in a consensual D/s
relationship the sub held the power to end the scene at any time.

“It’d only qualify as sexual harassment
if he threatened to use his position against the women who didn’t accept his
advances, but he was too smart to do that. I told you he was a charmer.”

“A snake seems more apropos.”

She nodded. “Yeah, but he taught me an
important lesson.”

“Which is?” He thought about the lesson
he’d like to teach the man who used women solely for his own pleasure.

“Military groupies don’t only come in the
female variety,” she said dryly.

His brows rose. “Trent was a groupie?”

“Not quite, but the result was the same…a
notch in his bedpost labeled Army helicopter pilot.” Her lips turned down in
disgust.

“You think he pursued you because of your
military experience?”

“I think he pursued me because I’m
female…”

When she didn’t finish her thought, he
asked, “Is he the reason you left your last job?”

She nodded again. “Yeah.”

He studied her for a moment, noting she
was holding back part of the story, but he decided it was time to change the
subject. She’d been extremely forthcoming so far, but he didn’t want to tread
all over her privacy. “So, how did you and I meet?”

“You were being held captive in the
wicked witch’s tower, and I rescued you with my helicopter, of course.” Her
infectious laughter drew a chuckle from him.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to use that
story… How about mutual friends introduced us at a benefit concert?” he
offered.

She leaned closer to him, and he got a
fresh whiff of her spicy scent. “Who was playing?”

He resisted his growing attraction and
reminded himself this was strictly business. “Depends. Are we doing classical
or rock?”

“Classical rock,” she answered.

“That’s easy. It was—”

“Queen,” they said simultaneously.

He grinned at her, and her smile shone
brightly back at him.

“Okay, we have the same taste in music.
That’s good to know,” she said. “What else do you think we need to know about
each other?”

A list of possibilities ran through his
head. None that he would broach with her at this stage of their relationship,
but he was having a hard time keeping a question about her favorite sexual
position off the tip of his tongue, along with his need to know if she liked to
be topped.

“Favorite TV show?” he forced out a safe
topic.

“Um,” she bit her lower lip, “it would
have to be a tie between Star Trek Voyager and Battlestar Galactica.”

“I should have guessed.”

“Why’s that?”

“The whole flight thing with two strong
female pilots.”

She grinned at him. “Yep, and of course,
there’s never been a cooler nemesis than the Borg.”

“Because…” he began.

“Resistance is futile,” they finished
together and laughed.

“This is good,” he said. “We obviously
have some shared interests. What about more personal stuff?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Like what?”

“Any siblings?”

“Only child. You?” she asked.

“Same.”

“Oh, that’s going to make for a rocky
relationship,” she insisted.

“Why?”

“Birth order stuff. Only children are
super perfectionists if they’re not too busy being super rebellious.”

“So, which are you? The perfectionist or
the rebel?” He thought he already knew the answer. She had
perfectionist
written all over her.

She sat straighter. “Both, and you?”

He paused before answering, trying to
imagine what she could have done that she considered rebellious. When nothing
outside of the bedroom occurred to him, he finally answered, “I’ve moved past
the rebellion. My father’s death cured me of that.”

Her eyes softened at the corners. “I’m
sorry for your loss.”

Another topic to avoid. “So, what else do
they say about only children?”

She considered him for several heartbeats
before she continued. “Only children mature faster, are conscientious, and love
facts and details.”