The Billionaire's Seduction (Billionaire Bodyguards Book 5)

by Avalon,Kristi

  Eyes still watering, her lungs gasped for the luxury of fresh air. Once she could breathe normally, she nodded.

  Drawing close, he whispered in her ear, “I set that cap on the table for a reason. It can serve a purpose for both of us, not for the cameras to see. Move it to the right if you’re speaking the truth. To the left, if the answer is no. Keep it in the middle, if you don’t want to talk about it. No matter what, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  The effect of his words created a soothing balm she needed.

  His hand lingered on her back a moment longer than necessary, before he returned to his side of the table. On her side, she sat forward, ready to answer his questions to clear her name. She took another deep drink, then placed her hand discreetly over the cap. She drew it close like the tiny piece of plastic offered salvation. Maybe it did.

  The stranger—no, Liam—resumed his former relaxed pose, ankle crossed over his knee. Those boots, she couldn’t get over them. Amusement gathered at the back of her throat to form a laugh, but she tamped it down. Did he wear those boots everywhere? That looked to be the case. If he seemed more comfortable in worn out boots, why did he also dress in an expensive suit?

  “Sophia.”

  She snapped to attention, unsure why his boots offered such a distraction. Along with his eyes. And his hair. She couldn’t figure him out. He intrigued her.

  “Have you ever secretly felt anger toward your boss?”

  She sat back, startled by the question. “No, never.”

  When he deliberately glanced at the bottle cap, she moved it far left, to indicate not ever even once.

  “Have you ever watched a patron win money? A lot of money?”

  That made her smile. “I happened to be on the first floor, heading to the garage where I park my car. This woman jumped up and screamed so loud, the card dealers stopped and turned around. She won something like fifty-thousand dollars on a jackpot. Those bells were still ringing in my ears long after I left.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  Sophia shrugged. “Happy for her. She resembled a regular I’d seen often enough. She’d poured plenty of money into those slots. She deserved that win.”

  “Do you believe in the randomness of the slot machines?”

  Sliding the cap to the left again, she sent him an as-if look. “I’ve learned enough on the job to recognize things are rigged in the casino’s favor. That favoritism is what has kept me gainfully employed for nine years. Do I think some people are lucky? Sure. At random, a big win can happen, but those odds are slim, next to none.”

  “You know about odds, don’t you?”

  She slid the cap right, for yes. “I’m an accountant by trade. I took plenty of statistics courses in college. I’ve based my whole life on numbers.”

  Liam shifted an inch forward in his seat. Since every subtlety held meaning, as part of their unusual communication, she wondered if this was a more important question. “When you’ve seen a random win, have you ever felt…jealous?”

  “What? No.” She scoffed. “It’s all part of playing the game.”

  “Have you ever gambled?”

  “Sure,” she admitted, sliding the cap right again. “On a girls’ night out, when friends and I had a little extra cash to spend on a Friday payday.” She sighed, reminiscing on those pleasurable days, now years in the past. “But since all my friends moved to the suburbs, and then moved out of town, I don’t have them to hang out with, so I don’t spend my Fridays at the casino anymore.”

  Liam spread his arms and seemed to bear down on her. “What if you came across a situation, where you didn’t have to gamble and could make money on a ‘sure thing?’”

  “Is anything ever a ‘sure thing?’” she replied, keeping the cap at the center. She thought of Todd, and her heart sank. No, nothing was a sure thing. Sadly.

  Reaching out his hand, he lightly cupped his long fingers over hers. An act of empathy? Camaraderie, like he’d been through a similar experience himself? “Nothing’s ever assured,” he agreed in a kind voice.

  As he withdrew his hand, she found she missed its warmth. She shivered slightly, in the overly air-conditioned room.

  He straightened in his chair, getting back to business. “If you had an opportunity to achieve great wealth, with little effort, would you go for it?”

  “What?” She couldn’t imagine what he meant. “Be more specific.”

  He replied with that slow blink of encouragement, that clever smile hovering at the edges of his lips—admittedly a little sexy, almost intimate, now that she thought about it. Though she was sure he didn’t mean it like that. He had a job to do.

  He said, “If you could, without getting caught, siphon funds away from some entitled rich guy, would you?”

  “Why?” she asked honestly. “I make good money. I hope I’ll do well on my own, too. Why would I take something from someone else? Especially if they’ve earned it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sophia, do you think Alex Atlas has earned his wealth?”

  “Of course I do.” She huffed, insulted. “As a future entrepreneur, I know how hard it is to create your own business. To work your ass off for little reward upfront. You have to think about things in the long run. It’s not easy, but in the end, it’s worth it.”

  A strange thing happened with Liam’s eyes. The colors seemed to swirl, like a tropical hurricane had hit those dreamy depths. Then the calm came, and they settled into a perfect balance of green and blue. “You’re a wise woman, Sophia. You’ll do well, whatever you put your mind to achieving.”

  She blinked, feeling strangely shy. Okay… “Thanks?”

  “But I have to ask you another couple of questions.”

  “Sure,” she said, exhaling, expecting nothing less.

  “Sophia, have you ever lied to someone you respect? Someone you love?”

  This question made her eyelashes flutter down. She stared at the cap. Which way could she move it?

  She’d lied to Todd, when he’d asked her to understand if he didn’t keep in constant contact with her during his visit to his dying mother. She hadn’t been thrilled by his request, like he’d arranged upfront to use it as an excuse to avoid contacting her. Not one call or text—not one?

  In her own similar situation, she would’ve given anything to have someone who supported her completely and unconditionally, to send heartfelt thoughts. Understandably, her friends who’d moved out from the city had been busy with their own lives, creating families, raising babies. But one—just one person, who had been there for her through everything, taking her calls at one a.m., because she’d just needed to cry her eyes out—would’ve meant the world.

  On her mother’s deathbed, she’d lied.

  She’d told the woman who’d sacrificed everything for her, that she’d start her own business, become her own boss, because she wanted to. But she hadn’t.

  Mom had been obsessed with the notion. Sohpia was here, today, in this abysmal room, because of that unwavering dedication to Mom’s dream.

  “Sophia,” Liam prodded gently. “Have you ever lied to someone you respect? Someone you love—?”

  “Stop. I have,” she interrupted his repetition. As she moved the cap to the middle, closest to her heart, she felt remorse. An innate internal failing that she couldn’t grasp or explain.

  “I see.” His hand touched hers, and she would’ve given anything for that warmth to stay. “Can you tell me about that experience?”

  A hard shiver came over her. “Actually, I wish anyone had asked me that. Years ago.” Unexpected tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. She focused on the cap beneath her forefinger, making figure-eight patterns with it. “Mom wanted me to start my own business. She’d encouraged me toward that for as long as I can remember. She’d worked for other people all her life. She’d tried to take out a loan to buy a house when I was a kid, but she was denied for lack of credit. So I’ve spent my life making my credit spotless. I am about
to make her dream—our dream—come true,” she said.

  Her heart lay heavy in her chest.

  She stared Liam straight in the eye. “If the price I pay for following a dream is why you’re here, then you can tell Mr. Atlas I’m guilty.”

  His eyes widened.

  “I’m guilty of wanting to be my own woman. To have my own business. To make my own money, independent of anyone else.” She was done with this interrogation. “Tell Mr. Atlas, if he’s mad about me leaving his company, we could’ve solved this over a drink.” She crossed her arms defiantly. “I have nothing more to say.”

  A broad smile spread across Liam’s lips.

  The effect dazzled her to the point of dizziness. He stood abruptly. “I’ll let him know. We’re done here.”

  Oh. Okay. About time.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He looked deeply into her eyes as if he could see her soul. Those tropical eyes were stormy, roiling, unfathomable. They took her breath away. “We’ll see each other again, Sophia.”

  I hope so.

  But the second he turned his back on her and closed the door behind him, she knew Mr. Atlas would demand a full report—if he hadn’t been watching every word via the cameras—and come to his own conclusion. She feared that what little hope she dared to put in Liam might not be enough.

  She might need to demand her purse, with her cell phone in it, and finally call that lawyer.

  *

  Liam Soren had never left an interrogation speechless.

  Today was a first.

  What the hell had Alex Atlas been thinking? Asking him to travel from Denver to Las Vegas on a private jet, last minute, just so Liam could tell him that his accused had not committed a crime? Atlas had authorized him—encouraged him—to harshly interrogate the brazen thief caught red-handed.

  Only, Sophia was no thief.

  That reality had been painfully obvious the second he’d walked into the room and stopped short. The women held in the space he’d just left had nothing to do with the theft Atlas had accused her of committing. She didn’t have it in her.

  Then again, Liam had grown accustomed to noticing details about people that others missed. He’d made a good living at it during his bounty hunter days, and had perfected the ability over years of self-taught training.

  To the untrained eye, he supposed his uncanny accuracy could seem borderline spooky. The way he solidified deals with difficult clients. The way he could reach into someone’s psyche and extract their hopes and fears, discern lies from truth.

  He’d had nothing to gain by putting Sophia through the usual rounds of tactical manipulation and observation. That’s when he’d come up with the idea to use the water bottle cap to make her more comfortable communicating. She didn’t deserve to be manipulated. She was suffering enough.

  In no way shape or form had Sophia embezzled fifteen million dollars from the Atlas empire.

  The notion bordered on ludicrous. In fact, she had caught Liam off guard when he’d walked through the door, the polar opposite of what he’d expected. The first few minutes of the interview confirmed it. Her eyes were haunting…round, innocent, so stunning at first he thought she wore colored contacts. But no, her eyes were naturally a clear, burnished brown, a few shades lighter than her hair. They resembled dark amber—almost bronze—like two shining pennies, and they’d quickly solidified her innocence. She was one of the few people he’d ever come across who possessed zero guile. She couldn’t lie her way out of a paper bag, let alone cover up an outrageously bold act of grand larceny.

  Liam looked forward to setting Alex Atlas straight.

  Moving with purpose, he traveled through the hallway toward the place where he’d last seen the casino owner, holed up in his screening room.

  As he stalked the hall, ready to proclaim Sophia’s innocence, a troubling thought occurred to him.

  What if Atlas didn’t believe him? Would the man dismiss him and find someone else who would hang her out to dry, to gain Atlas’s business or favor? Atlas was a power man with billions to back his 24-carat name.

  Her tears of confusion, barely hidden behind her open face, spoke louder than words. But if not for him running subtle interference, she might’ve admitted so something she hadn’t done.

  That’s why he’d told her to hush. That’s why he’d led her through the interrogation gently, asking questions that she answered beautifully, casting her innocence in stone. If Atlas couldn’t see that, he was either blinded by vengeance or a genuine dick. Liam didn’t think the man was either of those things.

  It became evident fast, he realized, rounding a corner. Nobody was on her side. She didn’t even ask for a lawyer. So he’d instructed her to be absolutely honest. He’d handle the rest behind the scenes.

  Why she trusted him, right out of the gate, intrigued him, but she’d done the right thing. He’d led her to believe she could, and while some of his subtle tactics could be considered manipulative, they were for her benefit. That counted for something, right?

  It’s just, she’d looked lost. Alone. Sad. He’d seen few people under questioning respond so bluntly and truthfully. She’d shared personal things that neither he nor Atlas had any business prying out of her. In his opinion, they’d only helped her cause.

  No one else was stepping up to do the right thing on Sophia’s behalf.

  So Liam would.

  As a bounty hunter in Las Vegas for ten years, he’d seen miscarriages of justice play out way too often. Innocent people caught up in bad scenarios. Especially when their douchebag boyfriends or husbands or relatives skipped out on their bonds, and the Soren Team went after them. The innocents were always the ones who paid the ultimate price.

  Too many decent people, good girls, had just needed someone to believe them, help them. When no one did, they found themselves in tragic circumstances, emotionally and financially. Sometimes physically, if the skips were violent abusers, too. He’d tried to intervene and help them when he could.

  Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.

  The possibility of helping Sophia, who clearly needed an advocate, renewed his internal drive to protect the innocent and see justice prevail. In his new life in Denver, with a sparkling corner office overlooking peaceful mountain ranges, he’d spent four years far removed from the dirty streets and stinking back alleys. The places where the worst of humanity congregated to satisfy every vice imaginable. Some unimaginable.

  The compulsion to right the wrongs filled him with purpose, drawing him back into that old thrill, reminding him of the adrenaline rush of catching criminals and protecting the blameless who suffered because of others’ dark, selfish motives.

  Back then, he didn’t have to play by the same rules as law enforcement.

  Now, things were different. Instead of the “honor among thieves” code used in the darkest shadows of the underground, the corporate world played by its own set of rules. He’d learned them quickly, out of necessity, since becoming a CEO of a billion-dollar company.

  He needed to approach this situation carefully, keeping the end goal of Sophia’s exoneration foremost in his mind.

  Liam advanced toward Alex Atlas’s base of command, a room twice the size of the one where Sophia continued to sit in isolation, probably nervous and worried as hell. She didn’t have to be. She had truth on her side, the best defense of all.

  Dan Tiegs, Atlas’s personal bodyguard who’d led Liam up to eccentric billionaire’s private floor, turned the handle of the door to the screening room and swung it inward so Liam could enter.

  To the right, dozens of hi-def computer monitors lined the walls. The monitors were divided into six panes each. Hundreds of hidden camera images spread across the screens. To the left, the drone of server stacks running constantly to keep up with the massive technical demand hummed like white noise.

  Six security guards sat in a row in front of the images. Alex Atlas sat in the chair closest to the door, peering at the lowest screen i
n front of him as though attempting to decipher The Matrix. The bluish cast of the screens reflected off his shiny black hair, uncharacteristically rumpled, like he’d filed his hands through it a hundred times.

  The man looked beside himself, totally thrown by the theft of millions of dollars from his accounts, which he’d told Liam earlier that his IT department had tracked back to Sophia’s laptop. Atlas had given him the short-version rundown when he’d arrived. Liam understood the reasons for his severe concerns, even if they had been misplaced onto Sophia. Hell, fifteen million dollars was no chump change by anyone’s standards—even a billionaire’s.

  Liam strolled up to him, waiting for Atlas to acknowledge him. When he did, Liam stated, “She’s innocent.”

  Atlas released a constricted breath. “How can that be?”

  “Hey, man, I get your situation. It’s shitty any way you look at it. But you can’t pin blame on someone who doesn’t deserve it. No matter how good it would feel to get this resolved, blaming an innocent person isn’t the answer.”

  “I know,” Alex muttered, raking his hands through his hair, clenching his fists like he might tear out the thick strands. He sent a sidelong glance at Liam, cocking an impressed eyebrow. “You did some fancy verbal footwork in there. My cousin was right. You are one of the best—a real mentalist, like he said. How did you learn how to do that stuff, anyway?”

  “Long story.” One he had no intention of sharing. Not even his own brother knew the whole truth behind how and why he’d cultivated his “mentalist” skills.

  Considering Sophia’s circumstances, Liam was extremely glad his company’s Director of Sales, Isaac Atlas, had recommended that his cousin hire Liam to come to Vegas to sort this out. Without knowing it, Isaac had probably salvaged Sophia’s reputation, if not her career. Especially since she planned to start her own business.

  “You got her to admit a lot,” Atlas remarked, scrubbing the bristle on his chin with his fingernails. The man looked like he’d lost sleep for the past twenty-four hours. At least he hadn’t rushed to judgment too quickly, before a thorough fact-checking. He’d waited until this afternoon to call in reinforcements.