by Jane Fox
Curves for the Billionaire
Richmond Brothers Love Curves Book 1
Jane Fox
Copyright © 2019 by Jane Fox
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Emma
2. Colton
3. Emma
4. Colton
5. Emma
6. Colton
7. Emma
8. Colton
Also by Jane Fox
About the Author
1
Emma
I was raised to believe that there was no shame in good, hard work. So, when I got my first job out of college, I showed up ready to give it my all.
But that was never good enough for my boss, George LaPointe. He seemed to find fault with every little thing I did and treated every mistake like it was a federal crime. All while trying to sneak a peek down my shirt.
So by the time of The Incident, I was pretty much on-edge the entire time I was at work. Not that that’s an excuse. Maybe more of an explanation.
It certainly didn’t help that the man Mr. LaPointe was meeting with was drop-dead gorgeous. When he walked into the office, I pretty much had to force myself to keep from staring. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and I could tell that he was built, even through his suit jacket. His hair was black, flecked with gray around the temples, although he didn’t look old enough for gray hair. He had laugh lines around his blue-gray eyes, even though he appeared to be all business. But nothing could have prepared me for his voice.
“Good morning. Colton Richmond to see George LaPointe,” he said to me in a British accent. His voice was deep, rich, and sounded dipped in chocolate. I had to resist the urge to ask him to repeat himself just to hear it again.
“Certainly, Mr. Richmond. Just one moment,” I said, comporting myself fairly well. It was only after I’d gotten up to go to Mr. LaPointe’s office that I remembered I had a run in the back of my black stockings. I’d discovered it after I got to work, and I figured that it was better to wear them with a run than to violate Mr. LaPointe’s “no bare legs” rule. I’d resigned myself to staying in my seat for the rest of the day.
So much for that.
“Mr. Richmond to see you, sir,” I said, peeking into Mr. LaPointe’s office.
“Very good, Emma,” he said to my breasts. “Send Mr. Richmond in and bring us coffee.”
I complied, and I even resisted checking out Mr. Richmond’s butt as he walked into the office. I was sort of proud of myself.
Before the door closed, Colton Richmond turned around and gave me an appraising look. His eyes lingered on my face, and I felt my cheeks redden as I rushed off to get coffee.
All in all, not my finest morning.
2
Colton
How George LaPointe managed to get a girl that adorable as his secretary, I’ll never know. I detested the man, but sometimes you have to put that aside to get business done.
Although, to be honest, I wasn’t thinking of business as I walked into LaPointe’s office. My mind kept returning to the sweet young thing that sat at the desk outside. She was nothing like the women that I normally dated—they were poised, elegant, aloof. Emma seemed to almost to vibrate with nervous energy. But it was the snag in her stocking that really caught my attention. Sometimes you need a little imperfection to highlight the perfection all around it.
My mind kept returning to what it would be like to roll those stockings down Emma’s voluptuous legs.
Luckily for me, LaPointe liked to prattle on about his latest round of golf for a good ten minutes before he got down to business. Usually, it was a nuisance, but this time, it let me get myself back into the right headspace.
Until the door opened and Emma entered, carrying a tray of coffee and mugs.
The sway of her hips mesmerized me, even as she held the tray oh-so-carefully to keep anything from spilling. She set it on the side of LaPointe’s desk, and I watched with barely concealed anger as he practically felt her up with his eyes. Like a woman of her caliber could ever be interested in doughy, balding George LaPointe.
Or me, for that matter. I kept in shape, but I suspected I had twenty years on Emma. I was old enough to be her father. There’s no way she’d be interested in someone my age.
But when she turned to ask me how I took my coffee, all those thoughts looked out the window. Her big, brown eyes locked with mine and I was done for. Good thing my poker face has had plenty of practice.
“Just black, thanks,” I said.
She nodded and handed the saucer towards me. As I took it, I couldn’t resist brushing my finger against her wrist. Emma jumped as if she’d been bitten and the coffee sloshed backwards, landing on her cream-colored blouse.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, blushing a bright red.
“Clumsy girl,” LaPointe said from behind her. I’d almost forgotten he was in the room.
“George, it was entirely my fault,” I said. “I bumped the saucer.”
“Well, she should have been more careful in handing it to you,” LaPointe glowered. “I can’t have my secretary looking like a slob. Set the phones to voicemail and take an early lunch to go home and change, Emma. Fix your stockings while you’re at it.”
Her eyes went wide, and she just nodded before turning to almost run out of the room.
3
Emma
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’d been so shocked when his fingers brushed my wrist that I’d reacted like an idiot and made a complete fool out of myself in front of the hottest man I’d ever seen.
Not that there was any reason besides my job to impress Colton Richmond. I was sure he was surrounded by gorgeous women all the time; he probably dated models. He’d no more consider dating me than he would Mr. LaPointe.
Mr. LaPointe’s parting words came back to me and I blushed all over again remembering how he’d basically called me a slob. Even hard work couldn’t help me if I kept making dumb mistakes.
My mind drifted as I looked out the window of the public bus I had to take to get to my apartment. I imagined what it would feel like to run my hand down Colton Richmond’s chest, feeling the definition in his abs. He wasn’t someone I could have, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t dream. And it made the ride go a lot faster.
By the time I arrived at my apartment, I had just enough time to change before I had to rush out the door to get back on the bus.
So much for lunch.
I’d planned on using my lunch hour to go to an adorable bistro right down the street from the office. I sighed as I looked out the window. Maybe I could find some almonds in my desk.
Imagine my surprise when I returned to the office to find a paper bag from the very bistro I’d been thinking of sitting on my desk. I couldn’t hear voices from Mr. LaPointe’s office, so I assumed that his meeting with Colton Richmond was finished. Tentatively, I opened the bag. I mean, it was on my desk, right?
In the bag was a container filled with what looked like a Cobb salad. There was a note on top. I grabbed it, eager to see if it provided me with any clues to my benefactor. After the way he’d chastised me, I didn’t think that Mr. LaPointe would have been thoughtful enough to order me lunch.
Emma,
I didn’t want you to miss lunch due to my inexcusable clumsiness.
C.R.
Short and to the point—but it made my heart leap, nonetheless. The fact that he’d thought about me for even a second gave me excited flutters in my stomach.
It’s lunch, not an engagement ring, I chastised myself.
Still, it was enough to raise my mood for the rest of the afternoon. At around two, a very stylish blond woman waltzed through the door of the office, her arms laden with bags showing the logo of a posh downtown boutique.
“You must be Emma,” she said, with a smile.
“Y-yes?” I responded lamely.
“Oh, he described you just perfectly. I’m certain that I chose the right size.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. LaPointe?”
She laughed, but it was light and friendly. “No, I have an appointment with you. Mr. Richmond sent me. He said something about a ruined blouse?”
I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Mr. Richmond?
“He had me choose a few things for you. I’ll just leave them with you, and you can try them on at your leisure. If you’d like to exchange anything, just give me a ring and I’ll drop by at your convenience.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, my cheeks now burning. “Mr. Richmond sent me clothes?”
“Well, he just went on and on about how sorry he was to have been the cause of your ruined blouse. Such a charming man!”
I mumbled something unintelligible in response, and took her card as she implored me to call her “for any reason, any reason at all!”
And then she swept out the door, all perfume and high heels, and I was left with several large boutique bags behind my desk. I resisted the urge to rifle through them, especially when I felt eyes on my back. I turned around to see Mr. LaPointe looking at me from the doorway of his office.
“Going to model them for me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. The shock on my face must have showed, because he immediately changed gears and snapped, “Get me more coffee, girl! And try not to spill it this time.”
I took a deep breath to steady myself and then got back to work.
4
Colton
“George LaPointe’s office, how may I help you?” said the sweet voice on the other end of the line.
“Emma, it’s Colton Richmond.”
A quick intake of breath on the other end of the line, then silence. She recovered fairly quickly. “Mr. Richmond, thank you so much for the lunch and the blouses. You really didn’t have to.”
“I most certainly did,” I said. “It was the least I could do.”
Another pause, before she said, “Would you like to speak with Mr. LaPointe?”
Never again in my life, if I can help it.
“No, Emma, I called to speak to you.”
“To me?” she squeaked.
“Indeed. Were the blouses to your liking?”
“Oh, very much, sir,” she said, an almost childlike exuberance sneaking into her voice. “They’re the nicest things I’ve ever owned.”
“Are you wearing one today?” My heart beat faster at the idea of something that I picked out molding to those perfect curves of hers.
“Yes,” she said shyly.
“Would it be possible for me to take you to lunch so I can see the result?”
This time, she let out a full-on gasp. The sound did things to me; I adjusted in my seat, willing myself to calm down, but all I wanted to do was make her gasp like that again.
“Emma?”
“Of course, Mr. Richmond. Whatever you’d like.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon, then. Oh, and Emma?”
“Yes, sir?”
“It’s Colton,” I said, gently hanging up the phone and beginning the almost interminable wait until lunch.
When I walked into her office later, I found her almost shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement; it better not be because her ungrateful boss said something to her.
As if I’d blown a whistle that only jerks could hear, LaPointe came strolling out of his office.
“Colton, good to see you again! Did my girl forget to remind me we have a meeting?” he said, leering as he gave Emma a full-body onceover.
I resisted the urge to pick him up by the knot of his tie and shake him; it might upset her, and I didn’t want that.
“No, I’m just here to take Emma to lunch,” I said, trying to force my voice to cooperate. It didn’t work; I could feel the angry growl beneath my words.
“Emma who?” LaPointe asked.
I glanced towards the lady herself, who was staring miserably at her desk.
“Not this Emma?” LaPointe said, unpleasant, mocking humor in his voice. “My Emma?”
“I didn’t realize that your employing her made her yours,” I growled. LaPointe shrunk back as if he had just realized which of us would wind up the victor in a physical match.
I was done with him. I turned to Emma, whose trembling had gotten even more severe, and offered her my arm. She stared at it for a moment and then took it, and I led her out without a backwards glance at the neanderthal she worked for.
5
Emma
I was shaking like a leaf, and Mr. Richmond—Colton—had to feel it. I just couldn’t help it. I was already nervous about him taking me out to lunch, and, after Mr. LaPointe came out of his office to insinuate that Colton couldn’t possibly be intending to take me to lunch, I was a complete and total mess. Truth was, I didn’t even think Mr. LaPointe was all that unfair. I was shocked he was taking me out, too.
It’s not like it’s a date, I chided myself. I’m sure he goes out with different business associates every day. It’s just another way of apologizing for something that was in no way his fault.
What a strange situation. However, I couldn’t be upset about it. Not when I got to spend an entire hour with all of Colton Richmond’s attention on me.
I wasn’t sure exactly how we would get to lunch, so I floundered a bit when we got down to the street. Colton placed a hand on the small of my back and directed me towards a sleek, black, German car. He opened the door for me and held his hand out to help me in. As I placed my hand in his, his thumb rubbed my knuckles and I felt momentarily dizzy. I had to be dreaming, right? There was no way that a man like Colton Richmond was helping me into his expensive car to take me to lunch.
I could still feel the warmth from his hand on my back as I buckled myself in. When Colton got in the driver’s side, he gave me a warm smile.
“You look exceptional,” he said.
“You have good taste,” I mumbled, referring to the shirt he’d sent.
He let his eyes glance over me before responding, “Yes, I do.”
I tried not to blush. I really did. But I could feel my cheeks warming and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Luckily, we arrived at the restaurant pretty quickly, so I didn’t have to respond. I had no idea what I could have said, so I was relieved.
Colton hopped out and opened my door before the valet even got there, making sure that he was the one who helped me out of the car. This time, he twined his fingers with mine and led me, by the hand, into the cozy little Italian restaurant.
The woman at the hostess stand gave Colton a dazzling smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Richmond,” she said. “Your table is ready.”
“Thank you, Theresa,” he said, still not letting go of my hand. Before I knew it, we sat at a table covered in a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. Theresa lit the candle in between us.
“This is so lovely,” I said. “Thank you for bringing me. Although I’m not so sure about Italian food and a new white blouse.”
“It certainly is lovely,” he said, never taking his eyes off me. “And don’t worry about the blouse. I’ll buy you another.”
“You don’t have to keep buying me things!” I said. “The coffee thing wasn’t even your fault.”
He chuckled, low and deep and rich sounding. “Emma, do you really think this has anything to do with apologizing? I would have asked you to lunch anyway; this just gave me a good opportunity to do so.”
I looked up at him and his steel-blue eyes seemed to look into my very soul. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like I could breathe.
I was saved from probably saying something stupid when a deep voice said, “Colton! You never come to Mario’s on a Tuesday!”
I glanced up to see a blond man smiling at us. He looked like a toothpaste ad: all straight white teeth and artfully tousled hair. He was casually dressed, but I could tell that his jeans likely cost more than my monthly rent.
“Dom!” Colton said, jumping up and hugging the man. “Good to see you! When did you get back?”
“Just last night,” the other man said. “Trying to get over my jet lag with a solid dose of pasta.”
“It’s an excellent plan,” Colton said, with a smile. It was then that I noticed the woman behind Dom. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair and very red lips, and she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Hello, Celeste,” Colton said, his voice suddenly sounding less friendly.
“Colton,” she said with a sneer. “Babysitting today, are you?”
Colton ignored her. “Emma, this is my brother Dominic. And his wife Celeste.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand. Dominic shook it heartily. I glanced between the two of them, one dark and tanned and the other blond and fair, and said, “Brothers? Really?”
Dominic laughed. “We get that a lot,” he said.
“We’re adopted,” Colton said with a smile. “Get used to meeting my brothers, because I have a lot of them.”
That made it sound like I’d be spending more time with his family, and I felt my eyes widen just a bit.
“Like she’ll last that long,” Celeste said, not bothering to address herself to me at all.
