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Marrying My Billionaire Boss

Page 16

by Lee, Nadia


  He stares at the bra for a few moments, then slides under the cover and turns off the light.

  We lie in the dark. I pull the sheets closer. His scent wafts from the cotton. Oh my God. My body starts to hum with electricity. Holy shit, he smells so, so good, especially when it’s mixed with a hint of laundry detergent.

  Burying my nose in the sheets, I inhale some more with the desperate neediness of a glue addict. This is like…scent porn. I’m actually getting wet, and my nipples are impossibly hard and aching. If I were alone, I might finger myself to sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fantasized about Nate.

  Evie, you are a sad, sad woman.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself to sleep, but it doesn’t work. My senses are hyperaware. I can hear the soft sound of his breathing, the heavy beat of my heart. The flesh between my thighs seems to throb, slick and oh so empty.

  The hell of it is that I have a feeling this sensation won’t be dissipating anytime soon. Certainly not in the next six weeks I’m going to be stuck with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nate

  “Visa-free entry? Ah hahahaha.” Court actually slaps his thigh. “Did you also tell her you’d pay for a reentry permit?”

  “You’re such a dick. A loud but limp dick.” He’s being overly boisterous, which is drawing attention. Ugh. Bastard. I must’ve been nuts to ask him to lunch at Virgo, a bistro near my office, on Wednesday. And to bring Yuna, because she’s in town, and she’s usually cool. I was hoping to introduce Evie to them, but she turned down my invitation. Again. Apparently my being her husband hasn’t changed her “no lunch with the boss” rule.

  “You mean a hilarious dick.”

  Yuna kicks him under the table, making him wince and hiss. “You’re being unsupportive.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “The position of ‘Nate’s best friend’ is going to become vacant anytime now. You interested?”

  “We can do better than that. I’ll be your soul sister.” She grins, then giggles.

  I laugh. She has a magical ability to make me laugh, and not with annoyance, unlike Court. She just flew in from Korea, but apparently isn’t at all affected by jet lag. Her eyes are bright and clear, and she’s listening with the attentiveness of a cat. She flips her auburn hair over one slim shoulder.

  “I’ve missed you,” I say.

  “Missed you too. And the wedding! I wish I’d been here. I’ve never been to a Vegas wedding. Yours would’ve been perfect. It’s awkward to crash some strangers’ wedding, you know?”

  “It wasn’t that special,” I say. She knows the truth about the wedding already. I trust her, and I wanted her as an ally, both for me and for Evie. I know Evie has friends of her own—like Kim—but I want her to have more. Some people from my circle, so she knows we aren’t all ogres.

  “You can have one yourself,” Court says to her.

  She ponders. “You think?”

  “Most definitely not.” I give Court a dirty look. “Unless you don’t plan to involve your mom in the ceremony.”

  “That’d get me disowned.” She leans closer. “Look, if your wife is being difficult, seduce her. Just show her your assets. No hiding.”

  “That means drop the towel,” Court adds helpfully.

  “Do you honestly think I’ve never thought of that?” I say. “But it’s too clichéd.”

  “It’s a cliché because it works,” he says.

  Yuna shakes her head. “Too obvious. Towels don’t just drop to the floor on their own.”

  “Yeah, but subtle is too complicated.” Court sips his drink. “Just pull a Hitler. Invade.”

  I choke on my soda. “I’m not going Nazi on her.”

  “Exactly,” Yuna agrees. “Pulling an Attila is far superior.”

  I raise my eyes to heavenward and sigh. “I’m not pulling a barbarian horde on her, either.”

  “Look, bro, I hate to state the obvious, but…it could be she’s just not that into you,” Court says.

  Yuna comes to my rescue. “Is she a lesbian? Because you’re totally hot.” Then she ruins it by adding, “If you were my type, I’d do you.”

  “Thanks, ex-friends,” I say dryly.

  “Look, she put up this Great Wall. What does that tell you?” Yuna asks.

  Court squints like he’s trying to multiply five-digit numbers in his head. “No nookie?”

  “No! She wants you to smash it down. Or scale it. The Great Wall isn’t impregnable. It didn’t stop the Mongols. You can do this. Impress her. Give her something she wants. Appeal to her heart as well as her libido. And most of all, let her know she’s safe with you. Women worry about that all the time, you know.”

  “Safe?” I ask, stupefied. “Why would she not think she’s safe with me? I’d never do anything to hurt her.” And I haven’t done anything to hurt her, have I?

  Yuna props her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand. “You’re a billionaire. You’re her boss. You’re related to way too many powerful people. You have all the power, while she has none. That’s a scary place for a woman to be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Evie

  Something definitely happened to Nate at lunch. He’s been pensive ever since he came back. And he’s sighed seven times while looking at me. I counted. But I have no clue what’s going on in his head. I haven’t done anything out of character, as far as know, and the meetings were productive. I even double-checked today’s notes, wondering if I made an error, but everything looks great.

  He starts acting more normal during dinner. Blanche makes conversation like she doesn’t notice anything off about her son, and wouldn’t she know?

  Maybe I’m being overly sensitive.

  When it’s bedtime, I change in the bathroom and do my evening routine. I brace myself mentally—and hormonally—for his tempting, gorgeous, nearly nude body. Although I’ve said very clearly that I don’t want to have sex with him, there’s a deep, illicit and perverse side of me that does enjoy looking.

  Well. It’s a spectacular view to go to sleep to, even though it gets me so hot and bothered that I stay awake a lot longer than I should.

  Licking my lips, I come out of the bathroom. Then immediately stop.

  Nate’s on his side of the bed, the Great Wall fully assembled and erected. But instead of just boxers, he’s in a white T-shirt and boxers. The shirt is fitted and molds to his stunning body, but there’s something very wrong about having the precise definition and planes hidden from my view.

  Except I can’t tell him to take off his shirt. That’d be totally unprofessional. And wrong.

  Well, you’re married, so it’s not that unprofessional.

  Shut up if you’re going to be unhelpful.

  When did I start taking his nearly nude body for granted or use it to… I don’t know. Fuel my lurid fantasies? Stoke my libido? Yeah, I’ve been having some dirty thoughts about him in bed. Impossible not to, when I’m enveloped in his scent. It feels like I’m surrounded by him, like his pheromones are settling on my skin, penetra—

  Okay, stop. I’m really relieved he’s covered. Yes, I am. I repeat that to myself as I slip under the covers.

  Suddenly, Nate pulls his shirt over his head and flings it across the room. I should keep my head on the pillow with my eyes shut, but I can’t. I lift my head just a little… Just enough to check him out.

  Oh yes. Those muscles. The beautiful, lean, hard lines. The flexing of his abs. The powerful shoulders.

  He starts to turn toward me.

  Shit. I plop back down and shut my eyes. Then, with some effort, I inhale and exhale slow and deep.

  Fake date. Fake marriage. Fake sleep.

  God. My life is more fake than Georgette’s breasts.

  * * *

  Nate

  It takes all my willpower not to cross the Great Wall and invade her like Court suggested. Actually invade her like the Huns and plunder that gorgeous body hidden underneath the prim shirt and shorts. />
  I only put on the shirt because of what Yuna said. I thought maybe my being topless was making her feel awkward or threatened. Well, technically Yuna said it was my money, position and relatives and family that make it threatening for Evie, but I can’t do anything about that. But this…

  I always thought Evie never noticed or cared what I wore or didn’t wear. But no. There was definitely a hint of disappointment in her eyes before she stoically controlled her expression and walked to her side of the bed. It was all I could do not to start jumping up and down on the bed, arms in an overhead victory pose and screaming, “Yes! Yes!”

  Instead, I waited for her to say something. Anything. Hell, all she had to do was smile or crook a finger, and I’d take off my shirt and more. Then eat her out until she rips the bedsheets, my name—my first name—on her beautiful lips as she comes again and again and again.

  I bet she’s tasty. Hotter than lava. And when I drive into her sexy little body…

  But she just slid under the covers. Then inhaled deeply and let out some small sighs.

  Oh well, then. I can be generous. I’m an accommodating guy.

  The expression on her face when I stripped off the shirt… Ah yes. Priceless. Her eyes flared, interest sparking. I don’t know if she realized it, but her little pink tongue swept across the seam of her mouth like she was hungry.

  She said no entry. But all I need is a yes from her lips to change that. And now that I know she’s definitely interested in me—or at least in my body—I plan to launch a full assault on the Great Fucking Wall.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Evie

  Nate is acting strangely. Although Miguel’s supposed to be back, Nate gives him even more time off, saying he deserves it. He insists on driving me to and from work. He also insists on having fresh flowers delivered to my desk every morning.

  Except the flowers don’t die immediately, so I have more flowers than a funeral home, and twelve oversized vases. I tell him, but he just says, “If I can’t buy my wife flowers, who can I buy them for? Rosie?”

  I grind my teeth at the continual personification of his palm, but say nothing. My coworkers also say nothing, not even super-chatty Melissa, who occupies a cubicle a few feet away. They don’t seem to know what to make of my new position as Nate’s wife. I don’t say anything either, since I also have no idea what to make of my new position.

  Mornings are the worst. He’s topless, as usual, but his towel is now perched so low, the fold so loose, that I swear it’s going to slip right off his hips any second. Sometimes I can see one hipbone, and more and more of the goodie trail is getting revealed. But somehow the towel manages to stay.

  I can’t decide if I’m happy or sad about that. And every night I fantasize about him losing his towel and me unceremoniously replacing Rosie. Taking his cock in my hand. Then in my mouth. Then in—

  I need some serious therapy.

  Much to my guilt and horror, Blanche has started to make breakfast and dinner. She insists, saying she’s entitled to cook for her son and new daughter-in-law. I’m going to go to hell for sure. And then there’s the matter of the morning shakes. Nate eats the bacon and eggs his mom makes with an outward gusto, but I can tell he’s hurting for his blended kale and antioxidants.

  The day before the welcome party, I work like a demon to clear everything off my to-do list. I’m certain I won’t be allowed to do any work. Not with Barron around. I take a quick look at the stack of papers on my desk. Must plow through them before Nate’s done reviewing the reports on his desk. The floor’s already empty except for us because everyone else left already. They took advantage of the generous policy of letting workers off at three on Fridays, except when we’re on a deadline.

  My cell phone rings, and I answer it automatically. “Hello?”

  “Evie, babe!”

  The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I frown. “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Chad! Remember me?”

  Irritation and annoyance surge in equal parts. I do not have time for this. Or him. “How can I ever forget? What do you want?”

  “When I saw the news, I couldn’t believe it’s really you. I had to look into it to make sure it really is the Evie Parker I know.”

  The nerve of him, calling me out of the blue like this! I never, ever wanted to hear his voice again. I just never expected that the fake marriage also comes with having to talk to the ex I hate more than mold on my favorite chocolate. The bastard did his best to ruin my life! “Well. He is very handsome. And a gentleman.” Unlike you.

  “I’m sure. I’m so glad you married well. I really am.”

  The egomaniac is clueless. Why am I wasting my time with him? “I have a meeting to prep for. Bye.”

  “Just give me thirty seconds. Look, my team is bidding on a project at Sterling & Wilson. It’s really important we win it, so could you put in a good word with the family?”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it. Is he serious? He not only dumped me, but told everyone that I was crass enough to use sex to get ahead. He’s the biggest reason people in Dillington were so nasty and I had to leave.

  “My husband doesn’t like it when I try to use him that way,” I say coldly.

  “Look, I know you don’t have good feelings about our whole…thing. And honestly, I can’t really blame you. But think of my team. They’re good people. They deserve this job.”

  Is this the best he can come up with? If so, he needs to do better. “What they are is bullies. I haven’t forgotten the message they left on my desk the day after we broke up. ‘Slut’ was the kindest word they used.”

  “Well, okay, they were a little harsh. And I guess you’re right to be angry. It’s just, you know, a lot of them have kids and all. But I guess I could still tell them…”

  Oh, fuck him and his manipulation. I can’t believe I never saw how he really was. On the other hand, I don’t want to rehash our past. It’s not worth it, and he’ll never admit he wronged me. I need to make him feel so small that he won’t bother me ever again.

  What would Barron do?

  Finally inspiration strikes, and I turn my voice cold and hard. “Never call me Evie again, Chad. It’s Mrs. Sterling to you.”

  “But—”

  I hang up, then block his number. I thought I’d already done that, damn it.

  Claps come from the door to Nate’s office, and I turn around with a start. He’s standing there, one shoulder propped against the doorframe.

  “Bravo,” Nate says. He’s smiling, but his eyes are frigidly controlled. I haven’t seen him looking like this since the time he had to make an example out of the embezzlers in Houston. “Who was that on the phone?”

  “My former boss,” I say, wondering how much he heard. Then I decide I don’t care. I didn’t do anything bad. My only crime was being young and stupid.

  “Let me guess. He wants something from you, now that you’re married to me.”

  I nod jerkily, feeling a little awkward about the circumstances. It surprises me for a second that he guessed correctly, until I remember he’s probably used to people trying to use him and his connections.

  Nate considers. “I haven’t given you a wedding present.”

  Ooooo-kay. What’s up with the sudden change in topic?

  “I’ll give you one. Well, the first of many.” He smiles sweetly.

  Somehow this is scarier than a threat. “What would that be?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I jump to my feet. “Wait. Don’t beat him up, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s not worth it.”

  “I’d never dirty my hands that way. He’ll simply be bankrupted. He’ll never be anybody’s boss again.”

  My jaw slackens at his cool, matter-of-fact tone. I’d love some revenge, but do I want Chadwick ruined forever? “Can you really do that?”

  “Oh, quite easily. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

  My heart flutters, and emotio
ns I can’t name grow in my chest. I can’t remember the last time a man made me feel this protected and cared for. Well, no man has ever made me feel like this before, period. Then I remind myself not to read too much into it.

  “Right,” I say, sitting down. “It wouldn’t look good to have your wife be disrespected.”

  Nate pushes himself off the doorframe and comes closer. I stay seated, utterly mute and still, like a small bird eyeing an approaching cat, my heart beating rapidly.

  The backs of his fingers brush against my cheek, the touch feather-light. “Nobody gets to disrespect you. Regardless of who you’re married to.” His voice is like granite, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. “Six weeks from now, six years from now, it doesn’t matter.”

  My stomach is jittery. It’s difficult to draw air into my lungs. So many thoughts jumble in my head, and I want to lean into him so bad, just lay my hand over his and gently kiss the fingers on my cheek.

  Except that’s way, way too intimate. And not part of my plan.

  With great difficulty, I pull back, breaking the contact, and force a smile. “Well, thank you. Now, we have to go over the women’s health initiative report from the Sterling Medical Center. Let’s get started so we can go home,” I say. All the while, my heart calls me a coward.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Evie

  “So. What do you think would be good to wear? Really formal or semi-formal?” I ask as I sort through the dresses in the suitcases. I’m so frazzled that I only had a single slice of toasted white bread for breakfast and haven’t bothered with lunch yet. No time to think about that right now. I’m just grateful Nate is taking care of the details of Mom’s trip to the party. I initially volunteered, but he said he’d do it like a dutiful son-in-law.

  “Ideally? Formal,” Kim says, her voice loud and clear on the phone. “Something a bit on the traditional side. Nothing too risqué or flamboyant. I mean, you can do that, but later, without Barron or the other old folks around.”

 

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