Taken Over by the Billionaire

by Miranda Lee

  ‘Is the weather forecast good for tomorrow?’ Jess asked, worried that Murphy’s Law might raise its ugly head again at the last minute. She was beginning to be a serious believer.

  ‘Perfect. Warm, with no rain in sight. Okay, let’s get ourselves downstairs and I’ll reassure Mum whilst you drop Ben back at Andy’s. But don’t be away too long,’ she added, flashing Jess a knowing smile. ‘No hanky panky, now. Keep that till after the wedding.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘ARE YOU SURE you can do this, Jess?’ Ben said as Jess sped down the driveway. ‘I mean, altering a dress can’t be the same as making one from scratch.’

  ‘It won’t be any trouble. Gran did a lot of alterations and I used to help her. I earned my first pocket money that way.’

  ‘You are full of surprises, aren’t you?’ he said, smiling over at her. ‘A good person to have around, I would imagine. I dare say you can cook as well.’

  Jess shrugged. ‘I’m not bad. Mum’s better, though. Can you cook? Or is that a silly question?’

  ‘Not at all. I think all men should be able to cook a bit, especially ones who live alone. I can make a mean omelette, and my mushroom risotto has received several compliments.’

  Jess laughed. ‘I dare say it has.’ She could imagine Amber gushing over every single thing he did. She could hear her now: Oh, Ben, darling, you are so clever. And talented. And handsome. And rich.

  No, no, Amber wouldn’t actually say that last bit. She would not be as obvious as Leanne. Or as envious. Because Amber would have money of her own. Jess was sure of it.

  His sideways glance was sharp. ‘Do I detect some sarcasm in that remark?’

  Her returning glance was brilliantly po-faced. Or so she thought.

  ‘Not at all.’

  He chuckled. ‘You little liar, you. You enjoy taking the Mickey out of me.’

  ‘That’s a very Aussie saying. Maybe you’re not as American as you sound.’

  ‘What’s wrong with being American?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’ It was his being a filthy rich American that was the problem.

  ‘You’re not going to sleep the night at Catherine’s place, are you?’ he asked abruptly.

  Jess frowned at this question. ‘I wasn’t planning to, but what difference would it make if I did? You’re going out and from what I gather you’ll be home very late.’

  ‘I just want you to be there in the morning. I want to have breakfast with you and talk to you some more.’

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘But do try to be quiet when you get in. I’m going to be tired after doing that dress. I don’t want to be woken by drunken revellers.’

  ‘I have no intention of getting drunk tonight,’ he surprised her by saying. ‘I don’t want to be hung-over tomorrow, thank you very much. I have plans for tomorrow night which require me to be fit and well.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, and for the first time in her life Jess blushed. But it wasn’t the blush of embarrassment, it was the blush of heat. Sexual heat.

  ‘Don’t miss Andy’s place,’ he said.

  ‘What? Oh, God, I forgot where I was for a moment.’ She glanced in the rear-view mirror as she braked sharply before turning into Andy’s driveway.

  ‘Thinking of tomorrow night?’ he asked in a low, oh, so sexy voice.

  Jess refused to act rattled by him, even though she was. ‘But of course,’ she said, her cool tone a total contrast to the inferno raging inside her.

  Ben should not have been surprised by her bald honesty. Jess didn’t play games. But Ben had games very much in mind for tomorrow night. He didn’t want sex with her to be over quickly. He wanted to savour it. To savour her. He also wanted the love-making to last and last and last.

  ‘How many lovers have you had, Jess?’

  ‘Not as many as you’ve had, I’ll bet,’ she countered, thinking he had a hide to ask her that. ‘Now, could we stop talking about sex?’ She reefed the car to a ragged halt. ‘You sit here whilst I go get Andy, and I’ll explain things, then find out where this guest cottage is. And, before you object, you’re not fooling me by pretending you can get in and out of your seat without some pain in your shoulder because I know differently. So just be a good boy and sit still for a while.’

  She didn’t give him a chance to come back with some witty riposte because she was off in a flash, running up the side steps of the house, leaving Ben to ponder just how good a boy he was going to be tonight. And he wasn’t talking about at the stag party.

  The temptation to come home early was acute. He could easily make some excuse pertaining to his car accident—claim a crippling headache from the concussion, or an appallingly painful shoulder. It was sore, but nothing to write home about.

  No, he decided in the end. He would wait. Waiting often made the sex better. And Jess would be even more inclined to be thoroughly seduced.

  Tomorrow night would be a first for him in more ways than one. His first wedding. His first brunette. The first girl in a decade who didn’t seem overly impressed with his being Morgan De Silva’s son and heir.

  Now, that really would be a first!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE GUEST COTTAGE was cute and quite a long way from the main house, set on a smaller hill and surrounded by trees. Made of weatherboard, it had a pitched iron roof, covered porches front and back and a hallway which cut the cottage in two. On the left on entering was a lounge followed by a dining room and then the kitchen. On the right were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom, followed by a utility room and walk-in pantry. All the rooms were delightfully furnished in comfy, country-style furniture which was probably newer than it looked. Apparently, it had once been a miner’s cottage, and had been on the property when Andy’s parents had bought the place.

  Andy had shown them the way to the cottage personally, which was a relief to Jess. Nothing like a third person being present to prevent Ben doing something which she didn’t want him to do. Not yet, anyway. If truth be told, she was terrified of that moment when he would stop the talk and walk the walk, so to speak. She’d always thought herself quite good at sex but, on a scale of one to ten, she doubted she came much above a five. She would hate it if he found her a disappointment.

  She quickly put her overnight bag in the smaller of the two bedrooms, insisting that Ben have the front room with the queen-sized bed, since he was too big for a single bed. He didn’t argue, just sat down on the side of the bed and bounced up and down, as though testing it for comfort. Andy carried Ben’s things into the room whilst Jess hovered in the doorway.

  ‘I’ll come back with some more provisions shortly,’ Andy told them. ‘Some stuff for breakfast. There’s already white wine in the fridge, and red wine in the cupboards, along with coffee, tea and biscuits, etc. But I’ll bring down some fresh bread, eggs and bacon.’

  ‘Well, I won’t be here,’ Jess returned before he could escape. ‘I have to get back to Catherine’s. I won’t be back till late tonight.’

  ‘Oh, right. I forgot. I also forgot to thank you for what you’re doing, Jess. Catherine rang me and told me about the dress. You are one clever girl, isn’t she, Ben? Fancy being able to sew like that.’

  ‘She’s amazing,’ Ben said.

  Jess just smiled, awake to his many compliments.

  The moment they were alone Ben gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘You won’t be staying in that bedroom tomorrow night.’

  She glowered at him, never being at her best when men started ordering her around. ‘Maybe I will,’ she bit out. ‘If you start acting like some jerk.’

  That sent him back in his heels. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I run my own race, Ben. I don’t like men telling me what to do and when to do it.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  Ben stood up and strode over to her, taking her firmly by the shoulders and pulling her hard against him. She didn’t struggle, or protest. Just stared up at him with wide, dilated eyes. Ben could actually feel her galloping heartbeat. She tho
ught she didn’t like to be ordered around, but he knew that a lot of strong-minded women liked their lovers to take charge.

  It came to him that she’d probably never had a dominant lover before. What an exciting thought!

  He could hardly wait for tomorrow night to come.

  ‘When the time is right, Jess,’ he said quietly, his eyes intense on hers, ‘you will like me telling you what to do. Trust me on this. But, for now, perhaps you should get going. Because if you stay I won’t be responsible for what might happen.’

  Jess left the cottage in a fluster, her body cruelly turned on and her thoughts totally scattered.

  Trust him, he’d said. To do what? Turn her into some kind of mindless sex slave?

  At this moment she didn’t doubt he could do it. If she let him.

  Did she want that to happen?

  The answer to that question lay in her thudding heart and rock-hard nipples.

  Suddenly, Jess was overwhelmed by a wave of desire so strong that she almost ran off the road. Giving herself a savage mental shake, she slowed down to a crawl, then turned shakily into Catherine’s driveway, proceeding very carefully up the cement road, grateful now that she had a job to do which would take her most of the evening; very grateful that she had no reason to go back to that seductive cottage till well after Ben had left with Andy for their night on the town. Thank heavens he wouldn’t get home till the small hours of the morning. By which time she would be sound asleep.

  Jess had to laugh over that one. There would be no sleeping for her tonight.

  But at least she could pretend she was asleep.

  * * *

  Things didn’t turn out quite like that, however. Jess finished the dress around nine-thirty, after which she refused all offers of wine, saying she was tired, then drove back to the cottage. In actual fact she’d only just remembered that she’d promised to give her mother a ring. This she did whilst she opened a bottle of the white wine resting in the door of the fridge. She poured herself a large glass, sipping it as she sat at the kitchen table, and gave her mother an edited version of what had happened, telling her the truth about the dramas over the wedding and how she’d fixed the dress tonight, plus the plan for her to be a substitute matron of honour the next day. Naturally, she didn’t mention anything about her being thought of as Ben’s girlfriend or that she was staying with him, alone, in this cottage. She admitted staying as a guest at the winery but that was all.

  ‘It sounds like it’s been a rather surprising trip so far,’ her mother said.

  ‘It certainly has,’ Jess agreed with considerable irony as she poured herself a second glass of wine.

  ‘You’ll have to ring me tomorrow night and tell me all about the wedding.’

  Jess winced. She could hardly tell her mother why that wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘Mum, the wedding’s not till late in the afternoon. By the time the reception is over and I get to bed, it’s going to be very late and I’m going to be exhausted. I’ll call you on Sunday morning. But not too early, mind. I might sleep in.’ Jess was grateful that her mother couldn’t see inside her head at this moment, as the images in there were not fit for a caring mother’s consumption.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ her mother said. ‘But don’t forget to take some photos. I’d love to see what you looked like. What you all looked like, actually. Which reminds me. What does this Ben fellow look like? You said he was nice but I have a feeling he’s good-looking, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, he’s very good-looking,’ she admitted, struggling to keep her voice calm in the face of a looming panic attack over her sexual inadequacies. ‘And very tall.’

  ‘Tall, dark and handsome, eh?’

  ‘No, he’s actually fair-haired, with blue eyes.’

  ‘And how old, did you say?’

  ‘I don’t know. Early thirties, perhaps.’

  ‘And rich?’

  ‘Filthy rich, Mum. His father’s a billionaire.’

  ‘Goodness. And did you tell him that you lost your job at Fab Fashions because of him?’

  ‘I did mention it. And he promised to see what he could do.’

  ‘Well, that was nice of him. But did he mean it?’

  The jury was still out on that score. ‘Maybe. I guess we’ll have to wait and see, Mum. Now, I really must go. I’m tired.’ That was a lie. She had so much adrenaline flowing through her body at the moment that she had no hope of sleeping. That was why she was downing all this wine; sometimes wine made her sleepy. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working.

  ‘Driving can be very tiring,’ her mother said. ‘Goodnight, darling. Sleep tight. Love you.’

  Jess suddenly came over all emotional.

  ‘Love you too, Mum,’ she choked out, then hung up.

  Jess decided after her third glass of wine that it definitely wasn’t working. So she put the half-drunk bottle back in the fridge and headed for the bathroom. A long, hot bath filled in another hour but didn’t relax her one iota. She’d just emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a nightie, when she heard a car screech to a stop in front of the cottage. Running to the front living room, Jess peered through the curtains in time to see Ben climb out of the back of a taxi.

  Flustered—what on earth was he doing home this early?—she whirled to make a dash for the bedroom, in her haste catching her left foot under the curled up corner of a rug. She cried out as she fell, her hands bracing themselves to protect her face whilst her knees hit the wooden floorboards with a painful thud.

  Ben heard Jess cry out as he made his way up onto the front veranda. He dashed inside, switching on the hall light and calling her name at the same time.

  He found her sitting back on her haunches in the semi-dark on the living-room floor, dressed in a red satin nightie with spaghetti straps which showed off her gorgeous figure. Her lovely hair was down, spread over her shoulders in dishevelled disarray, adding to the criminally sexy picture she presented.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, and held out his left hand to help her up.

  ‘I fell over,’ she said, but made no move to take his hand, her eyes on her ground. ‘My foot got caught under the rug.’

  ‘I see,’ he said, not seeing at all. What was she doing in this room, anyway? The lights weren’t on. Neither was the television. ‘Well, do you want to take my hand or are you going to stay there all night?’ he said, his tone betraying his inner frustration.

  She glanced up at him.

  Jess only just managed not to groan out loud. God, but he looked utterly gorgeous dressed in grey stone-washed jeans, an open-necked white shirt and a fabulous looking charcoal-grey jacket.

  Finally, she placed her hand in his, his fingers closing tightly around hers as he pulled her to her feet.

  ‘What on earth are you doing home this early?’ she asked whilst she tried to ignore the direction of his gaze. Right where her erect nipples were poking against the red satin. Maybe he would think she was cold. Though she wasn’t, having turned off the air-conditioning when she’d got home. The temperature had dropped considerably once the sun had gone down but it was a nice twenty-three degrees inside the cottage.

  ‘Do you want the truth?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I told Andy I had a vicious headache and that if he wanted me on deck tomorrow, then I should go home.’

  ‘And do you? Have a vicious headache?’

  ‘No. I simply couldn’t stop thinking about you.’

  Jess tried not to let his flattering words seduce her but it was way too late for such a futile struggle.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about you too,’ she admitted somewhat shakily.

  ‘So do I still have to wait till tomorrow night?’

  She shook her head.

  She half-expected him to kiss her then but he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled.

  ‘I need a shower,’ he said. ‘I smell of beer. Can I tempt you to join me?’

  The desire to lick her suddenly dry lips was intense but so
mehow she resisted. Jess swallowed instead, putting some moisture into her mouth. ‘I…I’ve just had a bath,’ she said, her voice thick and throaty.

  ‘Then you can come and watch.’

  Jess blinked at him, her mouth falling open briefly before snapping shut again.

  ‘All right,’ she said, wondering if this was what he’d meant earlier about her liking him telling her what to do.

  She did. Which was weird. If Colin or any of her other boyfriends had suggested the same thing to her, she would have told them to get lost. Bathrooms were private places, in her opinion. They weren’t places where you watched. Yet she wanted to watch Ben shower, didn’t she? She wanted to see him naked. Wanted to do all sorts of things she’d never done before.

  Her head spun at the thought.

  When she didn’t move, he frowned at her. ‘You’ve changed your mind already?’

  Changed her mind? Was he insane? How could she possibly change her mind when she’d already lost it?

  She shook her head.

  ‘Good,’ he said, and held out his hand to her again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BEN LIKED THE WAY Jess let him lead her meekly into the bathroom. He could tell she was turned on, the same way he was. Even the slightest touch turned him on with her. It was quite incredible, the effect she had on him. But nothing he couldn’t control, now that she was being deliciously cooperative.

  He settled her, somewhat stunned-looking, on the side of the claw-footed bath, then started undressing.

  * * *

  Jess could not believe she was doing this, sitting there watching whilst Ben took all his clothes off in front of her. But, dear heaven, it was exciting!

  After he kicked off his shoes, he removed his jacket and then his shirt, revealing an upper half which didn’t look like it spent all day seated behind a desk. He must work hard in a gym, she decided, or go swimming a lot. His light tan suggested this might be the case. He had broad shoulders, one of which carried a nasty bruise. But it didn’t seem to stop his arm working. His chest muscles were wide and well-toned, his stomach a surprising six-pack. Very little body hair, she noted, and liked.