The Billionaire's Seduction

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The Billionaire's Seduction Page 9

by Jay S. Wilder


  “Kelly, can you come to my office?” I ask as I pass her open doorway, never breaking my stride or even turning my head. Her rapid footsteps can be heard coming down the hall as I sit behind my desk.

  “Have a seat,” I say when she enters. She looks wary. I realize my tone is much more business-like than usual, probably because I’m disgusted by her. I made it a point to add a little more warmth.

  “So how was your night?” I ask, folding my hands and leaning toward her in a conspiratorial manner. She looks surprised, taken aback at the idea I would ask so personal a question. We’ve never exactly been friends, after all. I hardly know her.

  “Um…it was fine, I guess,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, broader than usual thanks to the shoulder pads in her jumpsuit. I guess the military/mannish look is back in. “I spent it at home, relaxing. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I say with a smile. “I thought it would be nice to catch up with you since we’re, ya know, dating and everything.” I watch the smile slide from her face with relish.

  “Excuse me?” she manages to stutter. “What did you say?”

  “Dating,” I repeat. “I mean, aren’t we? It’s all anybody can talk about around here, you know.”

  “It is?” she squeaks.

  “Oh, sure,” I say, leaning back with my hands behind my head. “We’re the hot couple around here. I guess the word got out somehow. You know how rumors can spread.” I’m loving watching her squirm. Part of me thinks it might be a good idea to let her off the hook and just fire her outright, but the sadistic side of my personality wants to draw things out a little further.

  “That’s neither here nor there,” I remark dismissively. “I mean, anyone with half a brain would know we could never be an item.” I laugh as if this is the most absurd idea in the world. “What do they think you are? A cougar? A cradle robber?”

  She’s stung by this, I can tell. I love it. My chest clenched in fury I heard she was spreading rumors of our “relationship”, even if it was only to Anna. The way I thought about Anna hadn’t diminished even a little bit since I was forced to fire her. Knowing Kelly deliberately drove her stiletto heel deeper into Anna’s heart by pretending we were dating only lowered my opinion of her even further.

  “This isn’t the reason I called you in here, of course,” I say. “I love gossip as much as the next guy but it’s time to get down to business. I wanted to give you the heads up on a retraction we’ll be including in our next issue, going to print later today. I’ll also need you to include it in your social media updates.”

  “Oh?” she asks, shifting in her seat. “It sounds pretty important.”

  “It is,” I agree, nodding sagely. “It’s an apology to Anna Nash, along with an admission stating we were in the wrong when we accused her of plagiarism.” I’m rewarded by the sight of Kelly’s already fair skin turning white as a sheet.

  “What—what are you saying?” she asks. “Apology? The magazine wasn’t in the wrong at all! She blatantly copied from those articles on the Italian Vogue website!”

  “No, you blatantly copied them,” I correct her, as I slide a hand into my pocket and pull out the flash drive. I hold it high. “You left the evidence right here.”

  I watch as she processes this, then finally comprehends the situation. “This is theft! The little bitch stole my flash drive!” She leaps to her feet and tries to snatch the device from my hand, but I keep it out of her reach.

  I laugh harshly. “Are you seriously pretending you’re the one who was hurt? You cost Anna her job, her reputation, any hope of a future career. For Christ’s sake, you weren’t even clever about it. Then you made up lies about a promotion and our so-called relationship. You’re beyond hope.”

  She sits back down defeated. I see the way her face sags, making her look years older. I’d be sorry for her if this wasn’t all her fault.

  “You’re lucky there aren’t going to be charges pressed against you,” I tell her. “It’s also lucky since Wilhelm doesn’t want to have another scandal break out, your little trick won’t be publicly broadcast. You’re most definitely fired.”

  “What am I going to do?” she asks quietly, her voice barely a whisper. “This magazine…it’s my life.”

  I shrug. “You should have thought twice before you did what you did.”

  After she leaves the office to pack her things, I get to thinking about the role I played in this. I know I pushed her aside when Anna came along. I realize she felt threatened. My understanding had played a big part in my indecision as to how to move forward with this. I didn’t want to publicly humiliate her, not just for the sake of the magazine but because I had already humiliated her enough.

  Maybe I was finally growing up, after all. Just like my father always wanted. I would never admit it to him, of course.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, you’re not coming back?”

  I had called Anna to ask her to come see me the Monday following my firing of Kelly. The retraction I issued to clear Anna’s name had spread like wildfire. I hoped she’d be happy.

  She was, of course. When I offer her old job back, she turns me down.

  “Why?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t you want to work here again?”

  She smiles. It strikes me how much wiser she seems to have become in just the last month. She even looks more mature. It could be the Gucci suit she purchased on one of our shopping trips in Paris, but there’s more. Her character is more fully formed. Forged in fire, as they say. “Since the rest of the publishing world knows I’m not a thief, they want me to work for them. I can command a better job title, better pay and an office larger than a janitor’s closet, all thanks to the work I did here.”

  I can’t help laughing out loud at her blunt reply. “Who said you couldn’t command much more if you were to come back to Trendsetter?” I ask. “I’m open to negotiating with you. Like you just said, you’ve proven your worth to the magazine.”

  She smiles at me, a little sadly now. “Right,” she says. “I’ve proven my worth. Is it just my excellent worth ethic you’ll be considering? Or something else?”

  “You have a pretty low opinion of me, don’t you?” I ask. “Honestly, I wanna know.”

  “Honestly? Yes, I do,” she replies, her voice flat. “I can’t help feeling like you turned your back on me, even though you’re offering me my job again. Maybe it’s for the best, being cut off from Trendsetter. Now I can move on. I do appreciate you issuing the retraction. Now I can get my life back together.”

  Then she stands while extending her hand to shake. I’m numb. This isn’t how I’d expected things to go at all. I imagined she’d be thrilled, maybe even throw herself into my arms out of gratitude and a month of being apart. No such luck. As usual, I underestimated her.

  I stand to shake her hand, then watch as she walks out the door. I know I didn’t imagine the jolt of electricity which went through me when we touched. I wonder if she felt it, too.

  Chapter 17

  Anna

  I’m sitting in my father’s office, negotiating. In the past we’ve had many such talks. Usually they were over some stupid trouble I’d gotten into. He would bawl me out. I would be careless, cavalier, sarcastic. I would always do my best not to reveal the ache in my heart, knowing my own father was perpetually disappointed in me.

  Now it’s different. Now we’re playing hardball.

  “As you can see, the asking price is a joke compared to the money we could make on it,” I’m explaining. “The owners have no idea the goldmine they’re sitting on. I swear, people who don’t understand shit about publishing shouldn’t be allowed to buy a magazine.”

  Wilhelm has the good grace not to laugh in my face, but he does look amused. “This is very interesting,” he admits, looking over the report I’ve handed him. “So you’re saying we should take, rebrand and relaunch? With the target audience better established?”

  “Exactly,” I say. “Right now, Yuppie
is being run by people who were yuppies in the eighties, for god’s sake. They’re not today’s young, urban professionals. Sure, there are plenty of young people working there, but if the editors are all waiting for their AARP cards to come in the mail, nothing young or hip is going to make it to print. Simple.”

  This time he chuckles. I can see I’m getting through to him. “I like the way you’re thinking about this, Adam. I really do.” He puts down the sheaf of papers and folds his hands, looking me right in the eye. “Now why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re so set on buying the magazine? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact Anna Nash is working there, would it?”

  My eyes widen before I can stop them. Not only am I surprised he knew about Anna taking the job they offered, but I can’t believe he made the connection.

  I consider lying, defending myself, pretending to be offended by such an assumption. Instead, for once, I come clean without putting up a fight. “Yes, you’re right,” I admit. “A lot of this has to do with Anna.”

  I see the amusement on his face. Now I’m fired up. I need to defend myself. “Dad, this isn’t just some girl I picked up at a bar and decided to hire. She’s much higher quality. Honestly, she wouldn’t even take her job back when I offered it to her. She has…character.” I cringe when I say it, and Wilhelm laughs.

  “You mean a woman actually rejected the great Adam Gerome?” he asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. I scowl, though I also can’t help but laugh at myself a little bit. Because, as always, he manages to sum me up.

  “You see why I’m having a tough time letting it go,” I say.

  “You’re determined to, what? Be her boss?” he asks.

  “I’m determined to keep her in my life, somehow. I have to.” It’s as simple as that.

  I can’t let her go. We’ve been through too much together. I’ve never loved another woman. I know how rare it is. I know how rare she is. There isn’t a chance I’ll ever find somebody like her if I spend the rest of my life looking.

  I think about those wide, innocent eyes. They were what hooked me first, I think. Then her goodness and kindness, then the strange mix of maturity and naiveté she has. How could I help myself?

  Dad thinks over my words, weighing them, trying to decide whether or not I mean what I say. I wait as patiently as I can for his decision.

  “You know something,” he says, as he rises from his chair to pour two drinks. “It’s not often I get the chance to say this to another person.”

  “Say what?” I ask, wondering what he could be driving at, just wanting an answer already.

  He hands me a glass of vodka on the rocks then takes a sip of his whiskey. I’m amazed. I didn’t know he paid attention to what I drink.

  “I’m impressed with you,” he finally replies. Those four words are enough to make my heart nearly burst from my chest. “You’ve grown. I have to admit, I didn’t have high hopes for the way any of this would turn out, but you rose to the challenge. The magazine’s doing better than it has in years, readership’s up, advertising too. Under your leadership, it’s all turned around. And I sense a difference in you, too. A maturity. I hope this means you’re finally discovering what’s really important to you.”

  “I am.” I assure him.

  * * *

  “I thought I’d come to tell you first, rather than leave it a surprise,” I tell Anna later the same day. I’m standing in the hall outside her apartment. She has yet to invite me inside. When she answered the door she looked irritated to see me here. Now she looks downright furious.

  “Are you fucking serious?” she asks, her eyes wide, her face flushed deep red.

  I nod shortly. I thought she might be pissed, but this was worse than I’d expected. All I know is I can’t let her go, no matter how pissed she is at me.

  “Why can’t you just let me have my own life?” she asks, those beautiful eyes boring holes in me. “Why do you insist on…I don’t know…telling me what to do? Being in charge? Butting in? I don’t know what to call it, but it’s really crappy.”

  “I guess I didn’t look at it that way,” I admit. “All I know is I can’t be without you.” There’s no point in playing games, in trying to be cool about it. “I need you, Anna.”

  Her eyes well up with tears. “I wish I could believe you. I really, really do.”

  “What’s stopping you?” I whisper. “I’ll do anything to make you believe me. I swear.”

  She looks unsure, uneasy. Her weight shifts from one foot to the other, one arm crossed over her torso so her hand holds the other elbow. As though she’s shielding herself somehow.

  I realize I’ll have to play my trump card now. I’d hoped for something a bit more romantic than this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I reach into the pocket of my trench coat to pull out the little velvet box I just picked up this afternoon. As I remove it, I go down on one knee.

  “What are you doing?” she gasps, her hand leaving her elbow to find its way to her chest. She stands there, wide-eyed, as I open the box to reveal the diamond ring I purchased in hopes she’d agree to marry me.

  “I’m asking to you marry me, Anna,” I whisper in the desperate hope she’ll accept. “I was hoping to do this in a less…well, I was hoping to do it somewhere other than the hallway of your apartment building…but the fact is, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Please. Be my wife.”

  She doesn’t say yes, though she does nod emphatically.

  “Are you saying yes?” I ask.

  “Yes it’s yes!” she laughs. I jump to my feet and wrap my arms around her. I’ve missed having her in my arms. She belongs here. She fits perfectly against me.

  “I love you so much,” I whisper in her ear, my face pressed against the side of her head.

  “I love you,” she replies. Her arms tighten around me. I know my heart is racing just as hers is, welling up with all the love I have for her. She pulls away slightly so I can look in her eyes. I had missed them, just as I’d missed her body next to mine.

  Our lips touch. It’s as though everything’s perfect. This is how it’s supposed to be. All of the pent-up need for her I’ve been holding back for weeks comes pouring out of me as we kiss. She responds just as she used to—immediately, passionately. I run my hands along her back, remembering every inch of her body all over again.

  We finally stumble into the apartment. I kick the door closed, already working at her clothes. I pull off her sweater, so glad to see she’s not wearing a bra. Immediately my mouth closes over one nipple. She cries out softly as she pushes the coat from my shoulders, following by my suit jacket. I let go of her long enough to take off my tie then unbutton my shirt, which she removes as I work on my pants. We both laugh at our urgency, even as we burn to be close to each other.

  Her pants come off as mine do, leaving us both in our underwear. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. We kiss as I carry her to the bedroom. I’m too desperate to be inside her to bother with preambles. The wetness already evident between her legs is a godsend.

  “Take me,” she whispers, writhing beneath me. I slide into her. It’s like I’m home again. She’s so hot, so tight I almost come right then, but manage to hold on until the urgency passes.

  I start to move, slowly, relishing the way she gripped every inch of me. “So good,” I whisper. She moans as I move my hips forward to bury myself in her. I know she’s been missing my body as much as I’ve missed hers.

  She opens her eyes, then turns her head to gaze up at me. “I love you,” she whispers, then arches her back as I drive myself forward again.

  “I love you,” I whisper back, the truth of it in my heart as well as throughout my body. Her cries grow louder the longer we go. Her heels are against my ass, allowing her to pull me against her over and over, begging me without words to go deeper.

  I cover her mouth with my own, muffling her cries, then take her lower lip between my own so I can suck on it. She moans louder, urging me on, t
he passion sweeping over both of us.

  I roll over, then, taking her with me. “Ride me,” I whisper, taking her hips in my hands. I want to watch her while she gets herself off. Her tits bounce, matching her motions as she slams herself down on me. She impales herself again and again, grinding her clit against me when she comes down.

  “That’s right, baby,” I whisper. “Come for me. Come all over me.” She moans loudly in response. Her sheath tightens around me, bearing down on me, as her climax approaches. Then she screams. Her muscles clench, then I watch as she shakes and gasps for air.

  Not for long, as I take her hips in my hands so I can begin thrusting rapidly upward into her. My head snaps back when my balls tighten against me, then explode. I cry out as I empty my need into her. She collapses against me. We’re both completely spent.

  It takes a few minutes, during which time we both catch our breath, to remember I never slid the ring onto her finger. “Hey, fiancée,” I murmur, my eyes still closed. She giggles from her position on top of me, where she’s still stretched out.

  “Yes, fiancé?” she asks, giggling again. I’ve missed the sound of her laughter so much. I stroke the sweaty hair back from her forehead so I can place my lips against it.

  “You never took the ring,” I say. She gasps, her head popping up from my chest.

  “Dang!” she says, jumping from the bed to dash back into the living room. I can’t help but laugh. I’m still chuckling when she returns, box in hand.

  “I thought you should do it,” she whispers, suddenly shy. My heart warms as I take the ring from the box. She sits down beside, left hand held out expectantly, allowing me to slide the ring over her third finger.

  “It’s beautiful,” she marvels, moving her hand back and forth, watching the stones sparkle.

  “You’re beautiful,” I reply, never taking my eyes from her face. “I love you.”

  She looks at me, the beaming smile stretched from ear to ear telling me she loves me, too. I take her in my arms again, already wanting more of her. I will for the rest of my life.

 

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