Sinfully Rich: A Steamy Billionaire Box Set

by Vivian Wood

  Of course.

  Of course my parents bribed the National Parks Service in order to gain more control over me.

  Heading to my cabin, I dial my father as soon as I grab my cell phone. He answers after two rings. He has obviously been waiting for my call.

  “Graham Black here.”

  “Don’t even pretend like you weren’t expecting my call,” I fire off.

  He sounds smug, which makes me hate him a little. “It’s nice to hear your voice too, Rachel. How is your little vacation?”

  Ugh. He really knows just how to get me. “Why in the world did you feel the need to poke your nose into what I’m doing?”

  He huffs a laugh. “Your mother and I have invested a lot in you, my dear. We are not just about to let our investment slip away for the summer.” I can hear him smiling. “You have so much potential, if only you would get out of your own way.”

  “Do you hear yourself when you talk? You sound like a crazy person.”

  He doesn’t take kindly to that. “Now I’ve heard about enough from you. You think that you can just flit off to Seattle for the summer and not tell your mother and I that you’re going? Well, as it turns out, we have a certain amount of sway in all matters that pertain to you. There is no running away from your life, Rachel. There is no escape.”

  “I don’t even understand what you want!”

  He exhales loudly. “I don’t know what it is that you want either, so that makes two of us. But if you are really going to go through with this—”

  “I am,” I growl.

  “Then I want some water samples. Who knows when we might need them. Maybe there will be something interesting in the results. Maybe not. Maybe it’s just a great way for someone from Civicore to keep up with you while you’re out gallivanting around Washington.”

  My stomach flip flops. “Goodbye, Dad.”

  I disconnect the call, feeling a little sick. Not a few seconds go by before there is an impatient pounding on my door. When I get up and open it, there is Grayson, looking like I’m responsible for his anger.

  I cock my hip. “Just what I need. Another man to tell me how I’m to blame.”

  There is no hesitation. He just lays right into me.

  “What are you people trying to get from testing the groundwater, huh?”

  I roll my eyes. “Like I know. Civicore sponsoring me this summer is as much a surprise to me as it is to you.”

  He looks offended. “Yeah right. You and your family are in on this together, whatever it is. And while Nate may be blind, I’m not. I know how the Black family works. It hasn’t been that long since the chemical spill in West Orange.”

  Wrapping my arms across my chest, I suck in a breath. I do not approve of the way he is flinging this in my face, even though I basically had the same conversation with my father only a minute earlier. There is a lot of sensitive family politics at work here, none of which Grayson even knows.

  He just can’t understand. Not anymore.

  “You’re talking about a Civicore accident that I had nothing to with. I was still in high school back then!”

  “Yeah, and even though your family knew me personally, that had zero effect on them when they denied culpability. That spill wiped out my whole neighborhood, Rachel. It killed three people for god’s sake.”

  I glare at him. “I know that. What I don’t know is why you are suddenly confusing me for my family. You never used to blame me for their decisions.”

  He levels a look at me. “You just told Nate that you are on the board of directors. That makes everything they do your responsibility.”

  God, he is just so arrogant. What’s worse is the fact that I can’t help letting my gaze dip down to his mouth for a split second as he rails at me. For the briefest moment, my mouth waters and I feel a little weak in the knees.

  What is it about men being mean to me that turns me on?

  Shaking my head, I snap myself out of it and shoot back. “I’ve been on the board since I graduated college. It means nothing. Not that you would have any idea of what my life is like these days.”

  That only seems to make him more angry. “Rachel, I cannot live with Civicore monitoring my every move.”

  “Neither can I!” I throw my hands up. “Why do you think I ran away from Manhattan? Hmm? I had my choice of parks. Why do you think I picked this one on the other side of the country? I might as well have joined the circus for all everybody back in New York is concerned.”

  God, why is he pushing me so hard? Does he really think I’m somehow to blame for Civicore’s meddling?

  His heated glare intensifies. He leans closer to threaten me. “I don’t know why you’re here. But I do know this. I don’t trust your motives. And I don’t trust Civicore. If I have to shadow you to make sure you’re not up to anything nefarious, I will. I’ll stop whatever plan you guys have cooked up.”

  Grayson has the nerve to look a little surprised as I plant my hand in the middle of his chest. Giving him a shove, I slam the cabin door in his face.

  I don’t know what Civicore is doing, but this whole day has only made me more determined to do what I was meant to do in the first place. Grayson, my father, my mother, and everyone else in the world can wait with bated breath for me to mess up.

  I don’t know what my family is up to. And I will definitely keep my eyes on them. But that is my responsibility, not Grayson’s. I will not make any accommodations on that fact.

  Straightening my spine, I turn my phone off for the final time.

  16

  Rachel

  Five Years Earlier

  “You still haven’t heard from Grayson either?” I ask, frowning. I shift in my seat, looking around the light pink walls of my bedroom. I’m at my parent’s summer house in the Hamptons for the time being, staying in my childhood room, and it is already shockingly old fashioned. There is an actual Victorian dollhouse in the corner of the room and white starched linens on the bed. “I mean, you’re his sister. I assume that if something happened to him in combat, the Navy would call you…”

  Olivia sighs on the other end of the phone. “I’ve called everyone I can think of. I’ve flown down to the Navy’s Pentagon offices. I’ve talked to just about everyone that I can talk to… and no one has any information. He’s just… gone.”

  My anxiety threatens to crawl up my throat and choke me.

  “Can you hold on?”

  Putting the phone against my chest to muffle the sound, I stand up and walk to the door of my bedroom, peeking out into the hall. Everything is still and silent, all polished hardwoods and not a speck of dust. My mother has always instructed the house staff like a drill sergeant would, screaming at them for the slightest infraction.

  They make sure that the house is shiny and clean. They are also cutthroat spies.

  I close the door softly, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I’m not supposed to be on the phone with Olivia. My mother doesn’t approve of Grayson, his family, or my mourning about his disappearance.

  She hasn’t been exactly quiet about the fact that she would rather I just moved on. She has suggested that I ought to be infatuated with one of the young men at my father’s yacht club.

  Sighing, I put the phone back to my ear.

  “Sorry, Olivia. I know you’re doing all you can do. I have been looking for Grayson, too. The secretary to the Chief of Naval personnel finally called me back.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. But he just said what other people have said. There is no information about Grayson’s deployment or schedule at this time.”

  She draws a breath. I can tell she’s been crying. “I have heard that recited word for word so many times from so many different mouths.”

  Exhaling loudly, I try to make my tone comforting.

  “It’s not like he could’ve just disappeared. He has to be somewhere. Someone has to know something!”

  I get choked up, just thinking about what it means if no one knows where he is.r />
  He could be dead in a ditch somewhere.

  He could be held captive by someone.

  He could have lost his memory and is currently living on an island somewhere, having some sexy native nursing him back to health.

  My mind runs in circles, trying to come up with answers that just aren’t there.

  Olivia blows out a breath.

  “But that’s what they are implying. There’s no information.” She sounds like she’s struggling for breath on the other end of the phone. “It’s been two months since I’ve heard from him. What if he is gone? What if he’s…”

  Don’t say it. But of course, she does.

  “What if he’s dead?” she asks. Then she breaks down in tears, sobbing.

  On my end, I press the heel of my hand over my phone. I press a knuckle to my mouth, determined to regain control of myself. After a moment, I uncover the phone. Olivia still sobs.

  “Olivia…”

  She cries even louder.

  “Olivia, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just—” I hear a door open somewhere downstairs. My mother, coming in from the beach. I cringe. “Sorry, I have to go. Call me if you hear anything?”

  “Of course,” Olivia says.

  Wishing her goodbye, I hang up the phone. I put the cordless phone down beside me with a sigh.

  Two months. Two months and not a single word from Grayson.

  Where is he?

  What is he doing?

  When is he coming back?

  A knock on my door startles me. I look up to find my mother poking her head inside my room. She looks perfect as always, her bright blonde hair tied up in a pink scarf, her arms and torso looking perfectly tanned against the white bikini she is wearing.

  “You should really go outside today, darling. You’re so pale that you look like an absolute ghoul.”

  I try to make my face expressionless, like she taught me. “I’ll think about it, Mother.”

  She pushes the door open wider. “What have you been doing in here? Moping?”

  “I was just… umm…” My eyes travel to a copy of Sherman Alexie’s The Lone Ranger and Tanto Fistfight In Heaven. “I was catching up on some summer reading. I want to be prepared for next semester.”

  My mother’s eyes narrow on me, making me want to squirm. “I don’t know why you are staying in your room. People are asking about you down at the club, you know. ‘Where is Rachel? Why isn’t she here?’ You’re letting them down, you know.”

  As if letting people that I don’t even really know down is a sin.

  She frowns a little, which lets me know that she is the one being let down by my behavior. I stand up, tossing my head. “Did you tell them I’m trying to get ahead in my college classes?”

  That only makes her frown more. “No, I did not.” She sighs. “I expect you to come down for the regatta tomorrow. All day. None of this slipping off to mope business.”

  I shoot her a look. “I’m not moping. I’m worried about Grayson.”

  She arches a brow. “Still? When are you going to realize that he probably met some other woman and he’s…” She waves her hand. “Doing whatever, wherever he is. Men are like that, you know. The only thing that makes them stay—”

  “Please don’t say something smart about wedding rings.”

  She gives me a saccharine smile. “You know it’s true, dear. You two weren’t married, thank god. You should just move on.” She pauses. “You know, I was talking to May Halmstadt — that’s Derrick Halmstadt’s mother — and she was saying that he just became single…”

  I can’t roll my eyes hard enough. “Barf. Mother, please don’t play matchmaker for me. I literally cannot think of anything worse.”

  She looks at her French-tipped nails and purses her lips. “I think you’ve had enough time in your lair. Let me set you up with a nice boy—”

  “That’s it!” I throw my hands up. “Out. Out of my room, right this second.”

  She glares at me as I shoo her out. “You can resist me if you really want to, but I don’t think you do. I suspect you are ready to jump ship. Move from that Navy boy’s little dinghy into a much nicer yacht—”

  I close the door on her, tears already pricking at my eyes.

  It’s been two months since I’ve heard Grayson’s voice. Four months since I’ve laid eyes on him. But I won’t give up on him.

  I will wait until I hear from him, even if it takes a lifetime.

  I will always wait for him.

  Always.

  Closing my eyes, I let my tears streak down my face.

  17

  Rachel

  Being around Grayson this whole week has been exhausting emotionally. I’m always teetering between being spitting mad at him or trying to pretend that I’m not still attracted to him, which I am. It’s giving me whiplash, honestly.

  And that’s not even paying attention to the way he makes me feel. Angry, yes. Heated, definitely. But also a little bit nostalgic, sprinkled in there.

  This week has left me a confused mess.

  By the time we reach the place where we’re meant to camp, I’m dragging. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the sun is out in full force. It’s hot in a way I can’t quite describe. My backpack somehow grew heavier with every mile I hiked and now I’m desperate to take it off.

  I trail after Grayson as he approaches a clearing with a couple of small wood cabins in it. In front of the cabins I notice a fire pit and several benches made of weathered stone.

  Grayson strides right up to one of the cabins. He shows no sign of slowing down, of course. He looks back at me, frowning.

  “You can take this cabin,” he says, sweeping the door open. “I’ll take the other one.”

  I push past him, dropping my backpack onto the bed. This cabin is even smaller than the one I had at Whiskey Bend. It’s barely big enough for a single cot and a rickety-looking nightstand. The ceiling is short too. Grayson will definitely have to duck to fit in his cabin.

  Still it’s a relief to be unburdened from my backpack. I look at Grayson and rub my right shoulder, which aches from where the backpack’s strap pressed into it.

  “What do we need to do now?”

  He shrugs. “Relax for a minute. I’ll do all the basic stuff.”

  I’m so frigging tired, but my pride won’t let me just sit back and let him do all the work.

  “Like what? I can help do things.”

  He stretches a little using the door frame to my cabin. “Uhhh… there should be a delivery of food soon. I should set up the fire pit now so we don't have to do anything later. That’s pretty much it.” He looks thoughtful. “There is a composting toilet here, lucky for you.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Great.”

  He looks amused. “I’m going to go find a couple of good trees to string up my hammock between. You really should rest a little. You look like you could use it.”

  I glare at him. My mouth opens to defend myself but he already turning away and heading back toward the tree line.

  Stupid Grayson with his stupid boundless energy. If I weren’t bone tired, I would come up with a good comeback to that.

  Instead of watching him go, I sag onto the cot. It feels incredible to sit right now. My stomach rumbles and I pull out the huge bag of trail mix that I brought from Whiskey Bend. After I spread my sleeping bag over the cot and take off my hiking boots, it’s all too easy to fall back onto the bed and munch on trail mix.

  I let myself close my eyes for a second. Listening to the sounds around me, the sound of the trees and the birds, I allow myself a little break. I think about Grayson, about how he looked today while we were hiking. He seemed very comfortable, very much in his element. And I definitely looked at his muscular thighs more than a few times while I was following him.

  When was the last time that I had an orgasm? God, it’s been months at the very least. Thinking about that, I relax a little more. I hear the sound of deep breathing and then…

  I o
pen my eyes. The door to my cabin is still wide open. The sun is much lower now, coming in my door at an angle that indicates it is early evening.

  Shit. I fell asleep.

  I crawl upright. Testing my feet, I find that they are less sore than they were a few days ago when I ran eight miles in my hiking boots. Still, to be on the safe side, I spend about ten minutes applying ointments to blisters and digging my Teva sandals out of my backpack.

  Shading my eyes against the sunlight, I step outside, careful to close the door behind me. I don't see Grayson anywhere, but I hear something.

  Cocking my head, I focus on the sound. It’s a rhythmic thwacking and it’s coming from somewhere in the trees. Following the sound, I soon find Grayson.

  Shirtless, his entire back gleaming with sweat, he’s chopping wood. He’s facing away from me which is good… because I’m unable to school my expression for a few moments.

  He looks good as he chops wood. He looks really good.

  Like… I want to run my tongue all over his body good.

  Grayson swings the axe back and then hefts it overhead in a fluid arc. Then he clears the split wood from the area on the ground and replaces it. As he continues to work at his task, every muscle in his back stands out, every ridge is defined.

  I bite my lower lip and allow my gaze to wander over his body for a moment. It’s not as if I didn’t already know that Grayson is hot. I did.

  I’ve slept with him before, for god’s sake.

  But that was five years ago. I was younger and so was he. I do the math in my head quickly.

  Already almost four years older than me, Grayson was… what, twenty three the last time I saw him? While he already had a pretty honed physique back then, it’s nothing compared to the way he looks now.

  Working as a park ranger has made him leaner than he used to be. He’s all muscle now. More adult than he was back then.

  He stiffens and turns. Then he does a double take when he sees me. He flings his axe head-first into a piece of wood and rounds on me.