Shameless Kiss: A Billionaire Possession Novel

by Amelia Wilde

  “Very tricky.”

  Juliet crosses her arms over her chest. “You didn’t tell me you were in the business of buying retirement homes. I thought you were only in the business of fleecing people for their money in exchange for the drugs they need to survive.”

  I frown at her. “I wouldn’t put it that way. I would say…I make a profit from the new discoveries my company is backing. And I’m persistent to a fault, as you know, so we’ve been taking over lots of spaces in the health care market. But this won’t be a branch of the business that looks for profit.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “In fact, it’ll be funded by profits from some of my other branches of the company. People who apply to live at one of my facilities won’t be taken for a ride. They’ll be assisted every step of the way. And they’ll never have to worry that they’re making a bad deal. They can feel comfortable getting the help they need.”

  Juliet’s chin quivers again. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I did. Because Juliet…every moment without you has been hell. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to prove that I’m not in this to gain anything but more time with you. And if that means buying twenty-five retirement facilities in the last two days with plans for a hundred more across the country, then so be it.”

  Her jaw drops again. “You’re serious about this?”

  “I’m serious. And—” I take a deep breath. “That’s not all I’ve done.”

  “What else?”

  “I’ve started a series of new scholarships for students at Anderson who are family caretakers or need extra assistance when it comes to tuition.”

  She shakes her head, smiling so wide it lights up the entire building.

  “I’m only sorry to tell you that you’re not eligible for it.”

  Chapter 47

  Juliet

  Weston’s face has gone deadly serious, and some of the heat that’s been building in my core leaches out and onto the ground. “I didn’t ask—what?”

  “You won’t be eligible for the scholarship.”

  “Why not? I wasn’t going to apply for it anyway. That would be unfair as hell, given the circumstances, and I can pay—” His slow grin, the sparkle in his green eyes, stops the words short.

  “You won’t be eligible because I came here to ask you something else.”

  My heart leaps into my throat. If he only knew how many times I’ve picked my phone up, ready to call him back and tell him how sorry I am for being so dismissive, how much I regret second-guessing him...

  It’s too good to be true.

  It has to be.

  “Ask away.”

  Weston steps forward, and I inhale the scent of him, all soap and spice and determination. “Be mine.”

  I suck in a deep breath. This is how it all started, only now there’s so much more between us that it hangs heavy in the air. Weston’s hands on my hips, Weston’s grip around my hair, pulling me back into position, Weston taking me, claiming me, filling me in every way I could have wished for.

  “I don’t—” I take a minute to steady myself, squaring my shoulders. All of this tumbled toward disaster because I jumped in with both feet, not knowing all the details, not knowing how far I could fall. And I fell hard. “I don’t think I can accept—”

  “Oh, just wait and—”

  “—without knowing what the catch is.”

  Weston’s smile is radiating hope, and when the words hit him it turns into a sexy grin that has me melting right there in the Anderson Law entrance hall, with all my classmates walking by, hurrying to get to the class I’m about to be late for.

  I couldn’t care any less.

  “Here’s the catch.” He spreads his hands wide, grinning even wider.

  “You’re the catch?”

  “The catch is, you’d have to be prepared to spend your days with a man who doesn’t know when to quit. With a man who wants what he wants and goes after it, even if it’s risky, even if some might call it shameless. You’d have to be ready to be on my arm in public. And you’d have to be ready to accept the perks.”

  “There are perks?”

  “No more law school tuition, for one.”

  “I’m not quitting law school.”

  “I said no more tuition. I’m not letting you saddle yourself with loans when I have more than enough money to handle all of that. Plus…” He looks to the side, like he’s tallying it up. “Everything I have will be yours.”

  “All of it?” I gasp.

  “All of it.”

  “You know what, Weston Grant?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve never cared about those things.”

  He looks deeply into my eyes, the smile turning back to seriousness. “I know. That’s why I can’t let you waste your life lazing about on tropical islands.”

  “Even though you have more money than God?”

  “I don’t think Juliet James could ever be satisfied unless she was doing something worthwhile.”

  It hits me then that I won’t have to apply for the biggest firms, working for clients who are only interested in lawsuits that can make them the most money. My paycheck won’t have to be my first consideration.

  “I could still have a law career?”

  “I’d insist on it.” He frowns a little, considering. “Unless there’s something else you’d rather do.”

  “I wouldn’t have to settle for the highest bidder.” The words that come out of my mouth are almost a whisper. Weston hears them anyway.

  “You won’t have to settle for anything. Ever again.”

  I burst out laughing, my voice ringing through the entrance hall. Heads swivel toward us, and I can see from my fleeting glances at their expressions that most of the people who are rushing by recognize Weston Grant from his big appearance for the first years.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s tempting,” I say between giggles. “It’s so tempting. But Weston—”

  “Yes?”

  “You didn’t have to make me an offer at all.” I swallow hard. “I missed you so…so damn much.” A single tear squeezes out from the corner of my eye, and I reach up to flick it away. I’m not going to fall apart here—not now, not after I’ve kept it together so well since Monday night. “Four days!” I laugh. “It seems ridiculous, to feel this horrible, but—”

  Then Weston’s hands are wrapped around me, tilting my face up to his. “The last four days have been the longest days in my life.” His tone is fierce, unrelenting. “I’ve been on two benders in four days, and do you know what? None of it made me feel any better. I feel like shit without you. And this isn’t even about me. I’d feel like shit forever if that’s what would make you happy. I just couldn’t bear the thought of not being next to you. If this is the last time I see you, then I—”

  I throw my arms around his neck, pulling his face toward mine, and kiss him—hard and hot and with everything I have. Everything.

  Weston Grant tastes like home. He tastes like the future. He tastes like he’s mine.

  When I finally pull back, there’s a strange silence in the entrance hall, but I dismiss it. It’s not important. I suck in a breath. “Please, don’t ever leave me, Weston. I don’t want to be without you. I don’t know what came over me, but I’m done living a life without you in it. I don’t want that for another day. Another hour. Another minute.”

  “Another second?” He grins again, and then I’m lost in his kiss, lost in the heat between the two of us.

  I never want to find my way out.

  Weston is the one to break the kiss. He lingers with his arms around my waist for another long moment, his green eyes becoming my entire universe, and then he pulls back, straightening his tie.

  “Now that that’s settled—”

  I laugh out loud. “How romantic.”

  “I think you’re late for class.”

  “I can miss it.”

  Weston shakes his head. “Oh, no. You can’t mi
ss this. It’s the first class of your new life.” He curls his fingers through mine and raises my hand to his lips. “But I want you to know one thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ll be waiting for you when you get done.”

  Sweet relief unfolds in my chest. “Good.”

  Weston leans in. “You belong to me now, angel. For always.”

  Heaven doesn’t begin to describe it.

  Chapter 48

  Weston, three years later

  The auditorium is sweltering, even though the air conditioning is working at maximum capacity.

  I sit in the front row, angling myself toward one of the portable coolers at the base of the stage. Monday morning, I’m putting in an order for an upgraded system. For sure.

  “Are they going to start soon, or is this going to take all day?” Don James’ voice is disgruntled, but only mildly.

  “Oh, all day. I made sure they pulled out all the stops.”

  He laughs at my joke. “As long as there’ll be food.”

  Juliet’s dad sits next to me in the very front row. President Wilson wanted us to sit up on stage with the rest of the faculty, but Juliet wouldn’t have it. “Not a chance, Wes,” she’d told me again last night while she was getting undressed—ostensibly for bed, but it turned into something heated the moment we slipped under the covers. Almost three years, and she’s just as ravenous for me as she ever was. It’s a good sign, if I do say so myself.

  “There’ll be food, Don. Did you think I’d ask you here without reservations?” I teased.

  Things are on the upswing for Don, thanks to the diligent work of his personal aide and the staff at Belle Park. There were some wrinkles to be smoothed out at first, when I was just getting into the venture, but in the spring Belle Park was named New York’s best rehabilitation facility and retirement community.

  I’d like to think it was because of my influence—and I have had more influence than I would normally—but I have to give most of the credit to Shoshanna Evers, the woman I hired to oversee the whole enterprise as my second in command. She is ruthless about hiring only the best staff, and it shows.

  Juliet’s dad is a prime example.

  I don’t know what the hell they thought they were doing at Overbrook, which is supposed to be pretty top-notch. Well, was. After Juliet was done with them, they had to do some serious reorganizing to stay in business. Last I heard, the place was in a free-fall. It’s very nearly time for me to step in and acquire it. I know Shoshanna can whip it into shape.

  But to Juliet’s enormous relief, he’s actually stabilized over the past few years instead of sliding deeper into the depression that got the better of him what seems like forever ago. He’s spending far less time in his room and far more time socializing, and for the past year, his outbursts have been kept to a minimum. So much so that he’s able to be here today, to attend her graduation.

  My heart aches with pride.

  Juliet moved into the penthouse after the first year of law school was finished. She insisted on maintaining her own place until it was obvious that she could use the extra support going into her second year, and with that behind her, she’s a rocket ship.

  She’s had prestigious internships with New York’s most powerful firms lined up every summer. There’s already talk around the city that no matter what she does, nobody will be able to topple her.

  I know what they don’t—that Juliet won’t be joining one of those firms when she passes the bar in the fall. She’s starting her own firm, and it’s going to focus on representing victims of domestic violence in cases against their abusers.

  She wouldn’t have it any other way.

  There are offers on the table from at least five big-name firms, but Juliet put the letters into her desk drawer one by one and hasn’t taken them out again. When the last one came, she waited until we turned out the light to talk to me about it.

  “I just can’t.” Her voice was soft in the darkness.

  “You don’t have to take any of those offers.”

  “I know.” She had gone quiet for a moment. “I don’t want you to think I’m not pulling my weight.”

  I pulled her close to me under the covers. “I have other thoughts about you.”

  “Oh?” I could hear the grin in her voice even in the dark. “Tell me about them.”

  I showed her instead.

  There’s a fanfare from the orchestra pit, and the lights in the auditorium flicker, then dim. I clap Don on the back. “Right on time!”

  Together, we watch the processional and the valedictorian’s speech—it’s one of Juliet’s best friends in her year—and then we wait for her to take her trip across the stage.

  “Juliet James,” intones President Wilson, and Juliet, beaming, floats across, somehow graceful in her black robe. Don snaps pictures with the digital camera she bought him for Christmas.

  In the lobby afterward, it’s a crush of friends and family, and Juliet bursts out of the crowd and throws her arms around my neck. “I’m free! I’m finally free!”

  I kiss her on the cheek, then let her greet her father. He recaps the entire ceremony for her, and she never once interrupts.

  Outside on the sidewalk, the town car is parked at the curb. “Oh—Juliet,” I call.

  She pauses, her hand on her father’s arm. “Did you forget something inside?”

  “No.”

  Her nose wrinkles with a smile. “Then what—”

  I take a step closer to her. “There was one more thing I wanted to do.”

  She grins at me, raising her eyebrows.

  I drop to one knee in the center of the sidewalk, and Juliet’s mouth drops open.

  “You’re very nearly a lawyer now,” I start out, and my throat tightens. I’m so damn proud of her. I love her so much. “And this is the place where everything began. Only now we’re at a new beginning.”

  “Ask the question, son!” Don’s voice is brimming with joy.

  “Juliet James, will you be mine for the rest of our days? Will you marry me?”

  She extends her hand to me, making me stand up like a newly knighted lord, and then she’s kissing me, so hard that a cheer goes up around us. I let it go on until Don clears his throat, and then I step back to slip the ring onto her finger.

  “I guess I’m tied down now.” Juliet watches the diamond sparkle in the sunlight, then looks up into my eyes, the light in her face something entirely wicked.

  “In more ways than one,” I murmur into her ear. “I’ve never been happier.”

  I move us toward the car, toward the lunch reservations, toward our official life together. “Never?” Juliet beams up at me. “Wait and see.”

  Epilogue

  Juliet, one year later

  The flowers on my desk are a surprise, not least because my head is buried in all the client meetings I have for the afternoon. The Lawrence case in particular is one that’s been bothering me, but I’m not going to let that get in the way.

  No.

  My firm is known for being aggressive, for being unrelenting, and I’m not going to let this one slip through my fingers.

  “Who sent these?” I call out to my secretary, Vanessa, and she comes to the door of my office, peering in.

  “Who do you think?” She laughs. “It wasn’t a client…unless you two have some kind of kinky client—lawyer thing going on at home.”

  It’s a gorgeous bouquet of roses, a rainbow of them arranged artfully in a vase that’s so large it takes over most of my desk. Not one of them is white.

  I step toward them, breathing in the scent, and laugh. “These cannot stay in here.”

  “No, I didn’t think so. But I wanted you to be surprised,” Vanessa says. “So, what’s the occasion?”

  I raise my eyebrows and sift through the flowers to find the card. “Let’s find out.”

  The tiny envelope pops open in my hand, and I slide the card out. This isn’t some printed message from the flower shop—it’s hand
written on Weston’s personal stationery. Even the sight of it has me wet between the legs. He touched it with his strong, dominant hands, scrawling his name at the bottom...

  “Hey, boss. Snap out of it and tell me what’s on the card!” Vanessa’s dark eyes dance from the entrance to my office.

  “‘Four years ago today, I saw you for the first time,’” I read aloud, my throat tightening at the words. “‘After that moment, nothing was the same. You’ve brought more color into my life than all of these roses.” Then, in true Weston fashion, the note turns highly naughty. I cover the fact that there’s more by clearing my throat and fanning at my eyes. “‘I love you more each day. Wes.’”

  “Awww. That’s sweet.” Vanessa bustles forward, taking the bouquet from my desk and carrying it out to reception, where there’s more room for it to breathe. There’s no way I could hold client meetings with it in my office, but maybe people will get something out of it in the waiting area.

  I flip the card over in my hand. P.S. To celebrate, I’ve planned a little getaway. The destination is a surprise, but we’ll be leaving next Friday at the stroke of midnight. Don’t worry—I’ve already packed your bags.

  Next Friday. A big grin spreads across my face. Weston is always coordinating with Vanessa to find little gaps in my schedule and spirit us away on his private plane.

  I can’t say I hate it.

  That gives me just enough time to plan a surprise for him.

  The images that flash into my mind are dirty, and no surprise—being with Weston has meant exploring all of my darkest fantasies. A shiver of pleasure runs down my spine.

  Vanessa knocks at the door. “Your first afternoon appointment is here.”

  I lift my chin and straighten my back, adrenaline rushing through me like I haven’t done this a million times before. When the client walks through my door, she’ll know I’m ready for anything. She’ll know from the look in my eyes that I’ll never let her down.

  The woman who appears in the doorway has her shoulders rolled forward like she’s bracing for another blow, her eyes brimming with fear.