The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) Read online

  “I thought if I sat awhile, it’d come to me.” She liked his dry sense of humor, but beneath it was another emotion. One she couldn’t place. He wrenched his eyes to hers when she came closer.

  “You really want to see it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice husky.

  He rested his palms on his suit pants, fingers splayed, chin up as he kept his gaze fused with hers. He did. She could feel that need vibrating from him.

  “You might be disappointed.” She fingered a delicate button on her shirt and watched his fingertips dig into his legs. “It’s not much.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Purposefully, slowly, he leaned back in his leather chair and watched as she undid first one button, then the second. One more open button over the center of her bra gave her enough clearance to show him.

  “You’re going to kind of get flashed,” she said, the quiet ticking of the clock and Reese’s face in shadow making her heart hammer. She pulled the shirt open, moonbeams highlighting the bit of ink she’d added to her body five years ago.

  Reese reached up, fingers brushing from the tip of the arrow, down the shaft, and over the flames that made up the fletching. He moved quickly, standing and lashing an arm low around her waist and pulling her against him.

  She braced herself on the desk with one hand, her other flattening against his chest. They lingered there and listened as the clock in the room ticked three times. She swiped her fingertip along his neck, the touch of her bare skin to his setting him off.

  Like a rocket.

  He kissed her. A punishing and exciting kiss, a kiss she’d wanted more of since they locked lips on the deck of the Luna. But this time, there was no one watching.

  * * *

  Merina’s shirt was open, her mouth on his, and Reese forgot about the speech he’d been intending to give her the moment she set foot in his house. He’d been in this room mulling it over for a very long time. He’d decided on a clear set of rules for their marriage. Rules involving him and her and separations so that they wouldn’t muddy the waters with sex. It made sense until she’d come in here, smooth skin cool in the moonlight, amber eyes shining. Then she’d unbuttoned her shirt, and his speech was buried under the only two words he’d thought before he sprang out of his chair.

  “Fuck it,” he said against her mouth after a devouring kiss.

  “Fuck what?” she breathed.

  “Fuck you. Preferably on this desk. Preferably two minutes ago.” He felt the curve of her smile all the way down to his rigid cock.

  She panted as he moved his mouth to her jaw, then to the side of her neck. He pushed her hair aside to give himself room as she squirmed beneath his insistence. He enjoyed the dance. She couldn’t help herself when it came to him and he couldn’t do anything about wanting her whenever she was near.

  “Futile,” he said, tugging at her shirt to bare one shoulder.

  “What is?” Her voice was a wisp in the dark room, a breathy siren’s call steering him right into the rocks.

  “Resistance.” He worked the buttons on her shirt, pulled it from her arms, then tossed it aside. He pressed his lips to her tattoo. A flaming arrow he wanted to know the meaning behind, but now was not the time. Any questions he had could be asked later. Now they were lost under the pounding of blood passing by his eardrums. He had to have her. No more delays.

  “I can’t wait to take this off,” she said, pulling on the knot of his tie. He raised his head and saw the heat in her eyes mirroring his and couldn’t help smiling.

  “The tie?”

  “I like you in it, but I like you out of it more.” She slipped the silk knot loose. “And the shirt.” She flattened her hands on his chest and pushed. He sat obediently, which was new. If she were any other woman, he’d have had her completely nude and spread across his desk before his tie was off. He preferred control. With Merina, he’d become insatiably curious. He was willing to give in to her for the moment, if only to satisfy his lingering curiosity.

  She reached behind her to unhook her black lace bra, pushing her breasts out. He admired the swells, the mystery tattoo. Delicate but aggressive, the flames licking across her chest. Then she unzipped her slim skirt and shimmied out of it—taking her time until the material fell to her feet. She left her tall black heels on, which saved him stopping her from taking them off. She was just how he wanted her.

  “Ready?” He reached for her hips and her eyes widened, her chest lifting with each hectic breath.

  “For?”

  His answer was to spin her to face the desk, place her hands on the surface, and stroke one palm down her spine. Then he bent and took a gentle bite of one ass cheek.

  “Oh!” She whipped her hair and glared over her shoulder at him.

  Behind her, he ground his erection into a pair of matching black lace panties he considered tearing off with his teeth.

  “Oh.” Her glare faded into a heavy-lidded gaze.

  “Do you like this, Merina?” She did. He could see it. “What’s your pleasure?” Her bent over the desk, balanced on her elbows was definitely his pleasure, but he wanted their first time to be what she wanted as well.

  “What do you think?” She backed her lush ass into his crotch and moved in an erotic sway.

  The attraction between them was like flames spreading to the carpet and climbing the walls. He didn’t delay another second. He released her hips to remove his belt, a quick slide of leather through buckle. Halfway to his goal of freeing himself from his pants, he had an incredibly important, if not unfortunate thought. He swore, the word an incoherent growl.

  “Condom?” Merina’s voice was filled with hope. But Reese couldn’t give her the answer they both wanted.

  “Not until we find the bedroom.” He stepped away from her, propping his hands on his hips and regarding the ceiling. One deep breath turned into two as Merina stood and tugged on her clothes. She offered his shirt.

  He snatched it, lowered his head, and kissed her, tasting her mouth and wishing they’d started this in a room where prophylactics were in reach.

  When she opened her eyes, she was looking smug, if not a little proud at causing his massive lack of control.

  “Vixen.” He smoothed his hand over her skirt, then gave her a slap on the ass. For a second they stood in a clinch smiling at each other like idiots. “Follow me.”

  Several wrong turns later, Merina giggled from beside him. He stopped in a corridor and pressed her flat to the wall with his body. Much as he wanted to kiss her, he hovered inches from her tempting lips.

  “Something funny?” he asked.

  Her high heels dangled from her fingers. She reached up and pushed her hair from her face with her free hand.

  “You mean besides you getting lost in your own house?” She grinned.

  “Your mouth.”

  Lips pursed, she purred, “What about my mouth?”

  He leaned closer, closer until the only thing separating them was a breath. “I can think of better ways to put it to use.”

  Her sharp exhale tickled his lower lip, but he forced himself to back away. “We’re close. Trust me.” He took her hand.

  “You need a bloodhound,” she offered. The smart-ass.

  “Merina.” His blood had gone from boiling to simmering, but his cock hadn’t received the memo. If she didn’t stop teasing him, he’d throw her down right here in the…Where the hell were they, anyway?

  “You have two kitchens?”

  “Apparently.” He blinked around at the smaller kitchen area, which, of course, he knew he had. Then he tightened his hold on Merina’s hand and dragged her with him, picking up the pace as her laughter echoed through another open, empty room.

  The moment they passed a downstairs bedroom, the one overlooking the pool, he had his bearings. But those bearings had come with a memory of the last time he’d set foot in that room.

  Five years ago…

  “I’m not sleeping in the same house as you. You can fucking keep it!” Reese sh
outed as Gwyneth tossed her clothes from the closet to the bed. She was sobbing and part of him wanted to go to her. He refused. He was the one whose world had been torn to shreds. He was the one who had been betrayed. It was Gwyneth who chose to take their four years together and throw them into the incinerator.

  “You’re being unfair!” She pointed at him with a dress on a hanger.

  “Me?” He stepped back into their shared bedroom, the one overlooking the pool because she liked to swim in the morning. “Hayes, Gwyneth?” His voice rose, but pain had eked into his tone. “You could have chosen anyone to fuck me over for, and you chose goddamn Hayes Lerner?”

  Her lip trembled but he didn’t let himself care what she was feeling. He couldn’t. If he gave her an opening, she’d talk her way back into his life and he couldn’t afford to be this wrong. Not ever again. Whatever she was going through paled in comparison to the earthquake now splitting his entire being in two.

  “Anyone!” His voice cracked and he forced down a lump of misery. He would not let her see him wounded. He would come back from this. When he did, she and Hayes could fuck in public for all he cared. The problem was that right now, he did care.

  Later that night, when he escaped to Crane Hotel and the uppermost suite on the same floor as his office, he realized the mistake that had been made was his.

  He’d watched his father after his mother died. Watched him wall up and move forward. Alex’s mind was on his business, his sights honed in on profits, numbers, and facts. Things that could be measured and quantified. Things that could be counted and delegated. Alex marched onward for a decade after losing Lunette, and in the process Reese had learned an invaluable lesson.

  Women were not for keeps.

  His mother’s death had left all her boys unprepared. Scrambling. When fifteen-year-old Reese would have collapsed under the weight of grief, when Eli, just a year younger, would have beat the shit out of every kid in school for fun, and when Tag, at the tender age of eleven would have hidden from the world instead of cashing in on his big personality, Alex had stepped up and done what his family needed.

  He’d soldiered on. They didn’t call the man Big Crane for nothing. Yes, he was in charge, but it also took a big man to move past what would have put a lesser man in the grave alongside his wife.

  Reese knew that lesson but temporarily forgot it over what amounted to a pair of great tits and a swish of strawberry hair. Gwyneth had made him forget his purpose. Forget his priorities. Heartbreak was his payment, and he’d earned every shattered piece. With it came the reinforcement of that long-ago learned lesson. Women weren’t for keeps. Women didn’t stay.

  That night, he made a decision. Focus on building his future on something tangible, something that wouldn’t go anywhere. Crane Hotels. Alex would retire in the next five or ten years and the board would be looking to appoint one of his sons the new CEO. Big shoes to fill, but Reese had big feet. He was going to be the one, and he wouldn’t let a woman stand in his way.

  Not ever again.

  Merina’s aerated laughter cut into his thoughts the moment Reese opened a door and ushered them into the foyer.

  “Thank God,” Merina said, dropping his hand. “I thought we’d end up in the garage next.”

  He turned and found her smiling, her shirt buttoned wrong, the edge of her tattoo peeking out. She was tempting and made him want to bury his bad memories in every inch of her smooth skin. To forget what had happened long ago and take the reprieve.

  But his body had grown cold at the memory that had assaulted him, and he wouldn’t be put in a position of explaining it to Merina.

  Whiskey could be his bedmate tonight. It worked almost as well as sex to help him forget the past.

  “You can find your way from here, I assume,” he muttered, taking a step away from her.

  “I can.” She cocked her head inquisitively, sensing the change in him.

  “Then do it.” Moonbeams sliced across the foyer, and he backed from the light into the shadow of the kitchen.

  Chapter 10

  Reese never came to their shared bedroom last night, so when Merina woke in the morning, it was to a strange room in a strange bed by herself. Which was pretty much par for the course since her marriage. But last night was especially odd.

  She’d gone from stripping for him, to accepting his kisses, to nearly having sex on a desk, to…nothing. She’d peeled back another layer of her husband in that moonlit office. Heat had sizzled between them as per their usual, but this time he’d been almost…dare she say it? Fun.

  By the time he’d turned on her in the foyer, shooting her with a cold glare and snarling lip, she was completely confused. And the last thing she’d been willing to do was chase after him when he stomped into the kitchen. She’d instead watched his retreating figure wondering what had set him off.

  Getting lost in the house had them laughing and bantering—it was more funny than frustrating, so she didn’t think that was what turned him. After that near-kiss in the corridor, she’d expected him to haul her upstairs over his shoulder and have his wicked way with her. Instead, he’d clicked like a switch. All over her one minute and disinterested the next.

  No, not disinterested. There had been something else freezing the air between them. Something he hadn’t been willing to talk about. Something that had sent him running from her instead of to her.

  She tried to tell herself she didn’t care as she dressed for work. Tried to convince herself that whatever had happened between them, it was for the best that they hadn’t acted on their desires. But the moment her heels clicked from the foyer to the kitchen, she’d gone from contemplative to enraged.

  She spotted him the moment she entered the kitchen. Pressed suit, facial hair trimmed, tie in place. His profile was to her as he filled his mug with coffee.

  “Well. Look who’s up,” she said coolly.

  He turned and her heart dipped just a little. There was so much fatigue in his eyes, she almost felt bad for him. Had he slept at all? Then she remembered the shit he’d pulled last night and allowed her anger to take the driver’s seat. No matter what they should or shouldn’t be doing, his rejection and the way he’d shut her out stung.

  “Good morning,” he replied, frowning.

  What.

  Ever.

  “My bed was lonely. Care to share where you spent last night? Here at the table? On your yacht? Or did you…” She trailed off when he tipped his head subtly to the side. She heard the crinkle of a plastic bag and slowly turned to find Magda on the other side of the room, fresh trash bag in hand, cabinet door open. Merina hadn’t seen her there. And now someone else knew Reese hadn’t slept in the same bed as his wife last night.

  “I’m sorry, darling,” he replied, coming to her. “I ended up working until almost four in the morning and slept in the office.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and tipped her chin. “You were so exhausted last night, I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Her anger morphed into disappointment, which was less sharp but cut deeper. She’d washed in here on a wave of anger, ready to hash things out. Share what was really bothering her. He owed her his honesty behind closed doors. If she was expected to live here with him and pretend to be his blushing bride, the least he could do is treat her with respect.

  He offered his coffee mug. “Cream?”

  Apparently, her husband was content to carry on business as usual.

  “Not today,” she answered, covering for the fact that Reese didn’t know how she took her coffee.

  “Keeping me on my toes, I see,” he said, his voice annoyingly light.

  How long had he stayed awake turning over whatever upset him? Or had he compartmentalized it completely and not think about it at all?

  “Can I drop you at work?” he asked.

  You can drop dead, she thought, then bit her sharp tongue.

  “I’d prefer to drive,” she said, not bothering to pretend for Magda’s sake.

  “All right, then.
See you tonight.” With a nod, he walked out to the garage, perfectly unaffected as he told her to “have a nice day.”

  Mug in hand, Merina watched a sporty silver car she’d never seen speed out of the drive and out the open gate. Then she exchanged a glance with Magda and without bothering to speak to the older woman, turned on her heel and left the kitchen.

  * * *

  The next couple of weeks reminded Merina of the way she and Reese were when they’d first met. Cool and disconnected. The biggest difference was that now she shared a house with him. And a bedroom. Reese and Merina agreed that sleeping in the same room was paramount so as not to have a repeat of that morning in the kitchen and make Magda more suspicious. “I trust her,” he’d said, “but I do want to give her the benefit of plausible deniability.”

  Reese ordered a couch for the bedroom to be delivered that very day, and since then had spent his nights on it getting the few hours he did sleep after he came in from the office.

  Merina took the bed, though she didn’t sleep much more than he did now that she’d set up a work-from-home office in the room across from their bedroom. She still went to the Van Heusen to care for the day-to-day, but after hours were no longer spent in the bar with a cup of tea. Now she was expected to be here, where anyone who cared to wonder what she and Reese were up to would assume they were up to their eyes in each other.

  Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Rather than keep late hours in his office at the hotel, Reese worked from home at night so as not to raise suspicions with the board. The press hadn’t written anything new about their marriage, but Reese expected that to change after Alex Crane’s upcoming retirement party.

  Over dinner Magda prepared—lemon risotto, salmon scaloppini with truffles, and a crisp white wine—he sat at the head of the table, Merina at his left elbow. Magda had already gone home, leaving them to their meal.

  “Dad’s party will require a bit of acting,” he murmured, picking at his rice.