Besting the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys)

by Alison Aimes

  “How do I know you’re not the one playing me? Screwing me in an attempt to soften me up?”

  Every muscle in his wide shoulders went taut. “You’re dredging this up again. Why? Paul?”

  She refused to let her gaze skitter away. “Just answer the damn question.”

  He stepped closer, his hand grasping her chin as his thumb brushed across her lower lip. “I won’t deny I play dirty in the boardroom and even dirtier in the bedroom. But I never mix the two.” His hold tightened. “I’m not fucking you to change your mind. And you better not pretend you fucked me for that reason.”

  “I’m not.” Though, Lord, she wished she could, at least to herself.

  His triumphant nod was pure male arrogance. “It’s settled.”

  “Far from it.” Jerking from his hold, she shoved past him, desperate to get away before his words began to make sense.

  He caught her wrist, checking her in place. “I won’t stop thinking of those hot-as-hell noises you make when I’m deep inside of you. Or of how much I want to hear them again.”

  Her heart gave a little leap but she squelched it and shook off his touch. “Let’s see if you still feel that way after I steal a few more board members over to my side.”

  “You can try and fight me. But I always win, mishka.” His gaze softened. “Yes, I’ll take the company, but we’ll find you suitable compensation, something you can live with. A job at my firm? Enough money to keep you in comfort until you die? Whatever it is you want, within limits.”

  “I don’t need your limits.” That single word was enough to set her off all over again. “I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime. I don’t need money. I don’t need another job. I’ve got the one I want.”

  “For now.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m game.” Hunger flared in his gaze. Anger, too. “That does seem like the only time we’re on the same page.” He reached for her again. “Why fight it?”

  “Because sometimes the fight is all you have left.” Dodging his touch, she shoved the door wide and fled, refusing to look back.

  Alexi Kazankov tempted her. No question.

  But she’d risked everything before and ended up losing all, including her self-respect.

  She wasn’t about to do that again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I’ll see if they’re ready for us.” Eaton’s gaze locked on the perky receptionist whose desk sat beneath the office sign of their newest quarry, Winslow board member and marketing guru Donald Jacobs. His support would go a long way toward making up for the advantage they’d lost when they kicked Don Pierson to the curb. “Maybe while I’m gone you could try to look less like you want to knife the next person you see. We’re trying to win Jacobs over, after all.”

  “Just go check us the fuck in.” Alexi shoved his ass into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs and grabbed a magazine.

  “Well, at least what I said really sunk it,” snarked Eaton, already scuttling away.

  Probably for the better.

  Alexi was in a bear of a mood.

  He flipped to a random page of the magazine. Must Read Tips for Hot Sex.

  Fuck him.

  He flipped again. How to Keep Them Coming Back for More.

  He tossed the magazine on the coffee table. It skittered across the glass tabletop and careened to the floor. Is an Office Romance Ever a Good Idea?

  “All okay?” Morales was at his usual position by the main entranceway, a knowing smirk on his face. Sadly, there were no secrets from your security head.

  “Yup.” Leaning over, Alexi scooped up the magazine and smacked it, face down, onto the table. “Never better.”

  “Good.” Morales’s tone was heavy with mockery. “I’d hate to think you were out of sorts.”

  “Well, you can rest easy then—and concentrate on doing your job.”

  “Like you’ve been doing?”

  “Watch it, Morales. I give a lot of latitude, but some things are off-limits.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you knew the expression off-limits.”

  Alexi leapt from his seat, his voice low and tight. “Is this about Lena?”

  A muscle flexed in his friend’s jaw. “Of course it’s about Lena. And you. And me and Eaton. We’ve spent years closing in on Winslow Industries. Now you’re risking it for some pussy?”

  Alexi lurched forward, his pointer finger inches from the man’s nose. “Refer to her like that again, and you and I will have a serious problem.”

  Morales kept his arms by his side, the sympathy in his stare a far worse blow. “You’re the one with the serious problem, friend. A man can’t serve two mistresses.”

  “Good thing I’m not the serving kind.”

  “No? I’ve seen you screw a lot of women over the years, but I haven’t seen that caveman look in your eyes since Anastasia—and we all know how well that worked out for you.”

  “I appreciate the concern, Mom.” He bit the words out. “But it’s a nonissue. She”—he was careful not to use names—“made it clear she wasn’t interested in a repeat.”

  “She kicked you to the curb?”

  “You could tone down the smile a bit, asshole.”

  “You’re right.” Morales’s smile only grew. “But the fact is this is for the better. I mean, where the hell did you see it going?”

  Alexi locked his hands by his sides to keep from swinging. He was getting pretty fucking sick of that question.

  Morales, though, wasn’t taking Alexi’s silence as a hint. Instead, he was relishing beating the subject to death. “You hate her late husband. You all but promised Lena you’d destroy anyone who stands in the way of returning her family company to her. Someone else is clearly gunning for your rival to go down as well. Now is not the time to rediscover you actually have a heart.”

  Alexi lurched closer. “I know better than anyone what’s at stake.”

  Retrieving the company had given not only Lena a purpose, but Eaton and Morales as well. Him, too, if he were honest.

  Eaton had been a brilliant student when they met, but he’d also been isolated, awkward, and bored. A dangerous combination that had gotten him into trouble with the law and some criminal elements. Neither side happy with his ability to break into allegedly secure networks and mess with their finances.

  Morales hadn’t been in trouble, but he’d been struggling. The sole bread earner of a huge family back home in Mexico, he’d been working three jobs and studying, all while trying to keep himself and those he loved from sinking into the world of violence and drugs where he’d been born.

  And Alexi himself…he’d been drowning. Reeling from Anastasia’s increasing dependence on drugs and her refusal to understand he wasn’t abandoning her, but attending a university to ensure he could care for her forever. Because he might have come from aristocracy and spent his childhood in a castle, but that’s where the grandeur ended. The rooms had been drafty and cold and every few days he’d been treated to the removal of another precious family heirloom so his father could have the money to drink himself to death. He’d wanted better for him and Anastasia—and Lena.

  Then, during the end of his first year at university, he’d gotten word that his asshole of a father had died and what was left of the decrepit estate was his. His first impulse was to burn it to the ground, and all the ugly memories with it. Two seconds later, he’d smartened up and come up with a plan. He’d liquidated everything that was left and used it to start his own business. To turn a negative into a positive and find the means to take care of Anastasia, Lena, and his friends.

  And it had worked. Sort of. He’d brought all but one back to the land of the living.

  He just hadn’t calculated on Lily Bennett.

  “What?” The pity stare he was getting from Morales was really starting to irk.

  “How do you know she isn’t playing you? Sleeping with you to soften you up? She wouldn’t be the first to try that tactic.”

  “Beca
use I can’t be softened. Not when it comes to Lena or my business goals.”

  “You used to have a heart.” It wasn’t clear if Morales meant that as a warning or an accusation, but Alexi took it as the former.

  “That part of me died a long time ago.” The day Anastasia had been wheeled into the emergency room and never left.

  “You sure about that?” Morales wasn’t backing down. “Because there’s going to come a point very soon when you have to choose. When a decision has to be made. A line crossed. You ready for that?”

  “Fuck you. I was born ready.”

  “What if she continues to reject your offers to buy the company?”

  “She won’t. Eventually, once the votes don’t materialize, she’ll realize it’s the only real choice she has.”

  “But if she doesn’t come around to your way of thinking? Will you still be willing to do what has to be done? Even having slept with her?”

  Alexi’s jaw clenched tight. “Enough. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. It’s a nonissue. It’s over.”

  “We’ll see,” sniped Morales.

  “What in the name of ducks are you two doing?” Out of nowhere, Eaton appeared, his accent more pronounced than ever, along with his tendency to sputter idiotic sayings when he was nervous. He shot a false smile toward the receptionist. “This is not the time for a he-man scene. Jacobs will be out in two minutes.”

  “Great. We’re done here anyway.” Alexi shot Morales a warning look before heading back to his chair.

  He only got to the count of two before his CFO, settling into the next chair, launched into a long speech on friendship and smart business tactics, his English accent making everything ten times more boring.

  Sometimes penance was a bitch.

  Alexi knocked the back of his head against the wall.

  This thing between us is going to be a problem.

  He’d known it from the start. And like an addict who tells himself one more hit won’t make a difference, he’d done it anyway.

  Though he hated to admit it, Morales was right. You’d think he would have learned from Anastasia’s example.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Eaton’s voice was a hissed whisper.

  “No.”

  He’d known he and Lily Bennett would tear up the sheets. What he hadn’t expected was the way she’d nudge awake a part of him he’d thought long dead.

  He should be thrilled it had ended when it had.

  “Kazankov, glad you could make it.” Donald Jacobs marched through the frosted glass doors, hand outstretched. Like any good PR guy, his teeth were whiter than a talk show host’s, his sixty-year-old tanned skin barely moving thanks to a hell of a lot of Botox.

  As with many of the board members Russell had surrounded himself with, Jacobs was old school. The guy had been a big deal in PR and marketing a while back, but his star had waned as he continued to pitch the same ad ideas and the marketing world moved on.

  Still, his vote would help Alexi take the company.

  Which is why he offered his hand in return. “Thanks for making the time.”

  “I’ve been a supporter of Russell’s for a long time, but his last act as president? I can’t stomach that.” Jacob’s smarmy smile grew wider as he gestured for them to follow him out of the waiting room. “Sure, with that gorgeous face and ass I’d put his bimbo in one of my ads in an instant, but to actually head the company?” His laugh was disbelieving. “Come on.”

  Alexi stopped short. Eaton slammed into him with a muffled umph.

  Lily Bennett’s competent, fierce gaze flared in Alexi’s mind, the urge to plow his fist through Jacobs’s pearly white teeth almost more than he could control.

  His gaze locked with Morales’s. His friend raised a single eyebrow.

  “Through here?” Eaton, hand pressed to his red cheek, maneuvered around until he was standing between Alexi and Jacobs, a not-too-subtle blockade. “Did you just redo the place? It looks great.”

  “Oh yeah.” Oblivious to the rising tension, Jacobs rattled on. “Had wife number four take care of it for me. She was great for that and blow jobs, but not much else.”

  Alexi’s teeth ground together. Back to business as usual. She’d been the one to insist.

  And this…this was his usual. Dealing with entitled scumbags. Doing whatever it took to regain the company for Lena. Giving his friends and himself a worthwhile purpose.

  He broke eye contact with Morales and started forward, bumping shoulders with Eaton on his way past. “I am not interested in discussing Lily Bennett or your decorating habits,” he told Jacobs. “I am here to gain your vote.” Shoving aside images of his rival, he marched out of the waiting room and back into real life. “Let’s talk terms.”

  “Sure.” Shuffling back a few steps, Jacobs sounded a little less certain. “I’ve been looking forward to working with the notorious Iceman for a while. I think our companies could really help each other out. I’ve got some ad ideas I think you’ll like and, as you know, we’ve been looking to expand our real estate reach.”

  Alexi blew out a breath. Okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad.

  “I know,” continued Jacobs, “I’ll be way more comfortable with you at the helm than I would with some delusional, overreaching bimbo who doesn’t have the sense to recognize her true value is between her legs.”

  Alexi pinned Jacobs to the wall in the next instant.

  Turned out business as usual wasn’t going to work for him, after all.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You want a few more minutes? It’s been forty-five already.” Jessie stood a little off to the side with one of the new security guys.

  Lily brushed a tangle of leaves from the new grave marker. She’d paid a ridiculous amount to have the new marble done fast, and now it looked as if the whole ugly incident had never happened.

  But she remembered. Every. Ominous. Moment. “Yes. A few more would be nice.”

  It was a beautiful, sunny day. The kind Russell had loved to spend at his Hampton house, sitting on the deck, gin in hand, watching the sailboats go by while he told outrageous tales about the adventures he’d once had.

  He’d been a real hellion before he got sick.

  After, too, if she was being real.

  Who else would stipulate in his will that his late wife visit his grave for at least forty-five minutes once a week as part of the terms of keeping the estate?

  Her finger tightened around the bouquet of flowers she’d bought, the image of reaching through the dirt and strangling the idiot immensely satisfying.

  As if she wouldn’t have come anyway?

  But that was Russell. Always vying for control and the last word.

  She blew out a breath, the same mix of gratitude and frustration, affection and pity flooding through her that always had when it came to the man who’d been her husband for six years.

  He’d been far from perfect. The first to admit he was a stubborn ass who made mistakes. But did that include Lena Orlov and her illegitimate daughter?

  Did you really leave them high and dry?

  It was the same question she’d been asking herself for a while now, but her certainty in the answer was growing more and more hazy.

  It seemed next to impossible that the same man who saved her could do something like that. But then again…she wasn’t naive. She’d seen the damage he’d done his own kids. She’d borne the brunt of his temper more than a few times. She’d seen time and again how the capacity for good and bad could live side by side in the same man.

  Of course, her late husband’s grave offered no answer.

  But that didn’t stop her from missing the good times with him—despite the questions he’d left behind.

  “You okay?” Jessie look worried, her somber expression a striking contrast to the colorful flowers adoring the stone.

  “Fine.” She offered a brisk nod. “It’s just…” Who was she kidding? “I’m making a mess of things.”

  “They were a
mess before you became head.”

  “True.” She tried for a joke. “But I don’t think Russell would be pleased.”

  “Who cares?” Jessie’s glower was pure defiance. “I don’t even know why you come here. Your lawyer said you could contest this ridiculous stipulation and likely win.”

  Jessie had never liked Russell. Same went for most of the staff. But they’d only known the difficult boss, not the man who’d saved her from Francoise.

  “I like coming.” Lily’s hip buzzed.

  Her heart beat faster. With a quick press, she silenced her ringer.

  But Jessie had already heard.

  “Again?” Her assistant’s expression was pure speculation. “Do you think it’s him?”

  Lily didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “Who knows?”

  No one had any idea what had gone down in that bathroom or Pierson’s office, but Jessie had been privy to the many, many times Kazankov had called today.

  As well as the fact that Lily hadn’t yet called him back.

  What was there to say?

  “Could be Jim?” Her assistant suggested.

  “Could be,” she agreed.

  Truth was, she’d put off calling him back as well.

  The only one she’d been trying to get a hold of repeatedly was Paul. His recent comments about her having no clue about what was really going on wouldn’t stop haunting her. She wanted to know what the heck he’d been about to say before he saw Alexi and hightailed it away. But, in a classic case of karma, Russell’s eldest hadn’t returned any of her calls.

  In fact, no one seemed to know where the man was. According to Jim, they’d had a blowout fight the day of the conference—the same day she’d had ugly words with Paul, the same day she’d ended up in the bathroom with Kazankov—and no one had heard from Russell’s eldest since.

  She would have been worried, but if there was anyone who knew how to take care of himself, it was Paul Winslow.

  “You going to check who the caller was?” Jessie’s question jerked her back to the present.

  “Not yet. Once we’re back in the car.” Closing her eyes, Lily tilted her head back and let the sun warm her skin. “For now, I just want a few more moments away from it all.”