The Billionaire’s Pet (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance)

by Ivy Layne

  The Billionaire’s Pet

  A Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires Novel

  Ivy Layne

  Contents

  About

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Your Free Books!

  Thank You

  Also by Ivy Layne

  About Ivy Layne

  Copyright

  ABOUT

  THE BILLIONAIRE’S PET

  Abigail

  I was in big trouble. The biggest. Running out of time, I turned to him. Jacob Winters promised he'd solve all my problems. All I had to do was become his pet. With some men, that kind of deal might have been a nightmare. Jacob Winters was a dream come true.

  I was raised to be a lady, not a man's plaything. But with Jacob, I almost had it all; pleasure like I'd never known and protection from the danger stalking me. Was it greedy to want more? I had his body, but I wanted his heart.

  I told myself it was just sex. We were providing each other a mutual service, nothing more. Right? I couldn't possibly be foolish enough to fall in love with him.

  Jacob

  I must have been crazy. I'd wanted Abigail for years, I won't deny it. But I don't pursue married women, and her husband was a disaster waiting to happen. Everything about Abigail warned me to steer clear, including the lady herself. Some women might cheat, but not her. Abigail was too noble for her own good. Beautiful and untouchable. Then her husband was murdered and every dark shadow he'd held back came after Abigail at once.

  She was on the run, and I was the only man who could save her. The best things come to men who wait, and I'd been waiting. Abigail was mine. I didn't want a girlfriend. I definitely didn't need a wife. I just wanted her. In my home. In my bed. I was going to own every inch of her elegantly curved body. I'd keep her for as long as I wanted her, and then we'd both walk away. What could possibly go wrong?

  CHAPTER ONE

  ABIGAIL

  * * *

  I sat on the plush leather sofa and stared at the thick wool carpet, trying not to count the scuffs on my shoes. John would have been so disappointed. The soft leather of my beige sling-backs was marked from walking through the wet grass before sunrise. Small flecks of grass stuck to the soles. John loved for me to look nice. He always bragged that he had the prettiest wife in town. But John was gone, and I was doing the best I could. Lately, my best had not included polishing my shoes.

  This morning, my best had included a pre-dawn trek through the field behind the house I'd shared with John, a half-mile hike through the woods separating the house from my cousin-in-law's small cabin, then a clandestine ride to the bus station two towns east. I hoped no one found out that Tina had helped me get to Atlanta. If I'd had another way, I'd never have put her at risk. But I'd had to reach Jacob Winters. He was the only one who could help me. I'd called his office from the bus station, arguing and pleading with the receptionist, then his assistant, to tell him I was on the line. After ten humiliating minutes, Jacob had clicked on, verified I was me, and told me he could fit me in at eleven for fifteen minutes. I'd spent the time in between lurking in a bookstore, knowing that would be the last place the people looking for me would think to search.

  Jacob's office wasn't what I'd expected. I don't know where I got the image in my head, but I'd pictured it as slick and modern, filled with sleek black leather and chrome, his assistant as a svelte blonde Valkyrie. The couch was leather. I'd gotten that part right. But instead of cold black, it was a deep espresso, punctuated with dull brass tacks. The rug was a Persian design, the furniture not sharp and shiny, but antique, polished wood. And the woman at the desk, guarding the door to his office with disapproving eyes, was older than my mother, with a neat, chin-length bob of grey hair that was heartbreakingly familiar.

  An ugly irony that his assistant reminded me of my mother. My mother was the reason I was here. The reason I'd made almost every one of the disastrous mistakes I'd made in the last five years. If Anne Louise Wainright had any idea I was sitting in Jacob Winters's office, prepared to make him an offer I hoped he wouldn't refuse, she'd have passed out from the shock. Ladies did not consort with men not their husband.

  I'd been raised to be a lady, first, last, and always. It was why John had married me. But my mother no longer recognized me and my husband was dead. I'd made more than my share of bad decisions since my father had died and my mother had fallen ill. This would likely be one more. I was prepared to live with that. If Jacob could give me what I needed, I could find a way to live with anything.

  A tone sounded at the assistant's desk. She pressed a button, then murmured something I couldn't hear. My stomach clenched. I still had time to change my mind. I could stand up, make some flimsy excuse, and be out on the city streets in no more than a few minutes. But what then? I couldn't go home.

  When Big John discovered me gone this morning, he would have been furious. I didn't want to imagine what he would do to me if I came crawling back. His first proposal had been so appalling, my imagination recoiled from trying to picture what my father-in-law would consider an appropriate punishment for my defiance. If Jacob turned me away, I would lose everything. Not just my home and my mother, but my life as well.

  "Mrs. Jordan?" The assistant stood in front of me, waiting with expressionless patience. The tension in my stomach congealed into a frozen ball of fear. I stood, wobbling only a little on my narrow heels. They were the sexiest pair I owned, a gift from John in the early days of our marriage. They pinched my toes and were the worst shoes to wear when I'd spent a good part of my morning walking, but paired with my cream linen shift, they made my legs look a mile long. I needed every advantage I could get.

  I tugged at the hem of my dress, smoothing the fabric as I followed the assistant to Jacob's door. I caught a whiff of her hairspray tangled with a perfume that smelled of roses and baby powder. She seemed too normal to be working for a man as magnetic as Jacob.

  The assistant turned the brass handle, and the door swung open on silent hinges. With a gesture, she indicated I should enter, then closed the door behind me. The click of the handle sent my heart thudding. No turning back now. All I could do was hope Jacob didn't throw me out when he heard what I had to say.

  He walked toward me, his hand extended, a distant, vaguely curious expression in his arresting silver eyes. Not a good sign. The way he looked at me was most of the reason I was here. That and the fact that he was the only man I could think of with the power to untangle my troubles.

  The power was the how, but the way he'd looked at me was the why. Or I'd hoped it would be. I hadn't met Jacob many times in the five years I'd been married to John. Only a handful of encounters, but each time, I'd come away shaken. He was always controlled, gracious, and reserved . . . except when I caught him watching me on the sl
y. Then, his cool silver eyes had burned with desire and intention.

  Jacob Winters wanted me. Not enough to risk his business with my in-laws, or maybe he'd known I'd never have cheated on John. Our marriage was so far from perfect. It had devolved into a nightmare, but I still owed John too much to think about cheating. He hadn't deserved that kind of betrayal.

  Steeling myself, I raised my hand to take Jacob's. His fingers were firm around mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I did my best to pretend confidence as I smiled up at him. He smiled back, his eyes warming a shade. A lock of thick, dark hair fell over his forehead, softening his sculpted face. Jacob Winters had the kind of looks that stopped a room. I'd seen it happen at a cocktail party when John and I had been early and Jacob had been uncharacteristically late. He'd walked in and conversation had literally stopped, all eyes on Jacob handing off his coat as he brushed raindrops from his dark hair.

  He was taller than most men, at least a few inches over six feet. Broad shoulders, narrow torso, muscled but lean, and every woman who caught sight of him knew that without his trademark grey suits, he'd look even better. Smug gossip from the women who'd been there affirmed that as hot as he was when dressed, a naked Jacob Winters would ruin you for all other men.

  Hard to tell how much of that was bragging from women who wanted everyone to know they'd captured his elusive attention, even if it was only for a short time. I'd always thought they were understating his appeal. I never would have cheated on my husband, but if Jacob had asked, I would have been painfully tempted.

  "Thank you for seeing me," I said, following Jacob deeper into his office. The space was divided into two sections, including a sitting area with a couch, love seat and coffee table in the same style as the front room. Further into the long room was a huge desk of warm, caramel toned wood. A dark leather desk chair sat on the far side, two smaller leather armchairs opposite.

  To my surprise, Jacob led me to the desk. I'd thought that with my being the widow of a former business associate, he'd treat this more like a social visit. Wrong. There was no bullshitting Jacob that this was a social call. He'd sent flowers when John died. The niceties had been covered. The last-minute call this morning and my insistence that I had to see him today told him this was business. So, the desk.

  I took a seat in one of the armchairs, crossed my legs, and pasted a polite smile on my face. The training of my marriage. Don't show anything but what they want to see. Hide the panic. Hide the desperation. Slow, even breaths. Hands lightly clasped in my lap. I was the picture of calm elegance. Always.

  "What's wrong?" Jacob asked, his sharp eyes pulling apart my facade. The instinctive protest that nothing was wrong jumped to my lips. I beat it back. Ridiculous to say nothing was wrong when everything was wrong.

  "I'm in some trouble." I sat up straighter, tugging on the hem of my dress. It was just a hair shorter than it should be, making it an alluring combination of classy and sexy. I'd worn it hoping it would sway Jacob in my favor. Now that I was sitting here in front of him, the amount of leg the cream linen exposed made me feel more vulnerable than confident.

  "Do you know why I married John?" I asked, deciding to get straight to the point. It was a long story, and he'd only given me fifteen minutes. Jacob sat back in his chair and shook his head.

  "I'd always wondered. You never seemed like a good fit to me."

  It was funny that Jacob would say that. Everyone else seemed to think we were the perfect fit. Me, the sweet, spoiled banker's daughter and John, the son of one of our small town's most powerful men. His family hadn't exactly been above-board, but John was supposed to change all that. Marriage to me had cemented the image that his family was moving in more legitimate directions. Shortly after our wedding, he'd been invited to join the country club. In the beginning, I'd taken over for my mother as a lady who lunched. No one had seen beneath the surface because we hadn't let them.

  "No," I said. "We really weren't." Taking a breath, I prepared for the confession I had to make. Five years later, and I was still ashamed of what I'd done. "When I was sixteen, my mother began to develop early onset Alzheimer’s. By the time I graduated high school, she needed round-the-clock care. The summer after my sophomore year in college, my father had a fatal heart attack."

  "I'm sorry." Jacob leaned forward, compassion warming his demeanor. "That must have been very difficult for you at such a young age." I let out a bitter laugh, the harsh, short sound completely unlike the careful image I'd cultivated over the past few years.

  "It would have been easier if I hadn't discovered that my father had lost everything. The only miracle was that he'd kept things at the bank clean. I don't know what I would have done if I'd had to pay them restitution."

  "So you had nothing?"

  "Nothing. The house, cars, artwork, my mother's jewelry and my grandmother's engagement rings—they were all sold. If it had just been me, I could have handled it."

  "Your mother," he said. "I take it there wasn't any insurance to cover her care?"

  "No. My father had her in an excellent facility by that time, but it was too expensive for me to handle on my own. And I wasn't qualified for the kind of job that could cover the bills and pay my rent. If I'd brought her home with me, I couldn't have gone out to work. I was trapped. And terrified."

  "Let me guess. John walked in with the solution?"

  I should have known Jacob would grasp the situation with a minimum of explanation. He might have lived and worked in the city an hour from our small country town, but he made it his business to know everything about the people who might impact his interests. He knew all he needed to know about the Jordan family—far more than I had when I'd married John.

  I'd grown up the sheltered, indulged daughter of our town's two leading citizens. I wasn't one of those privileged little snots who looked down on the rest of the world for not having the newest cars and clothes. My mother had, along with lunching at the country club, spent much of her time volunteering in our community. She'd taken me with her to food drives and literacy clinics, always wanting to make sure I understood how fortunate I was, and in my good fortune, to remember to take care of those with less. While she'd managed to instill a sense of humility in me, my upbringing had not prepared me for the various ways life could turn ugly.

  I'd known about John's family. His father, Big John, was spoken of with respect and awe. Not the same kind of respect people had used when they'd spoken of my father. This was tinged with fear and a vague threat. I was never quite clear on what Big John did, or didn't do, to earn this type of regard. As far as I knew, he owned a plumbing supply company on the edge of town. When I asked, my father had told me to stay away from the Jordans. By the time I was in high school, I had the idea that some of Big John's enterprises weren't quite legal, but I hadn't understood what that meant. Not really. Not until it was too late.

  "Yes." I straightened in the chair, as if correcting my posture could pull the shreds of my dignity together. "He offered to marry me. He was just back from college, ready to settle down, and he said he'd always had his eye on me. He said that if we got married, he'd take over my mother's care. I didn't know what else to do."

  "Like a lamb among the wolves," Jacob commented, a wry smile on his face. "You had no idea what you were marrying into, did you?"

  "None." I looked away from those knowing silver eyes, afraid I'd see pity. "It was the wrong thing to do. I know that. I told him I didn't love him. And I did my best to be a good wife."

  "You played the role he married you to play. Even when you knew what he was."

  "Yes." I nodded. I'd married a man for his money. A man I liked, but would never love. The more I grew to know him, the less I even liked him. But I did my best to be what he wanted, always aware that he held my mother's life in his hands. She was far too fragile to leave The Shaded Glenn, and only John's continued goodwill kept her safe and cared for.

  "So why are you here?" Jacob leaned back in his chair, hands folded, resting on h
is chest. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Time was ticking away, and I wasn't doing a very good job of getting to the point.

  "Big John moved into the house a few days ago. He said that with John gone, my debt was transferred to him. And if I wanted to see my mother taken care of, I'd do as he said."

  "And what, exactly, did he say he wanted you to do? Sleep with him?" One dark, elegant eyebrow raised as if to ask if that was all it took to scare me off.

  "Sleeping with him and keeping his house were just the beginning," I said. "He and John fought a lot at the end. One of the things they were fighting about was me. Big John felt that I was too big a drain on their resources. That I needed to earn my keep. He wanted to trade me out to some of their associates. John refused."

  "You're kidding." Jacob's face darkened, his eyes shading from silver to a dark, forbidding gray.

  "I wish I were."

  "What did he say when you told him you wouldn't do it?"

  "He said he had ways to keep me in line. I acted like I'd go along and said I knew I owed him, but I had my period. Then I snuck out in the middle of the night." I fell silent, waiting. Jacob watched me, not speaking, for several endless minutes. Every muscle in my body was tight, tense to the point of pain. Jacob was my only chance. I had no money and no friends I'd risk to Big John's fury. Nowhere to go. Finally, he spoke.

  "What do you expect me to do?"

  This was the sticking point. The truth was, I didn't know. I wasn't asking for a job. After four years of marriage to John, I still had no marketable skills. All I had was my willingness to do anything to protect my mother.

  "I can't take my mother out of the facility she's in. I can't afford to pay the fees. And I'm not sure, even if I turned my back on my mother, that I can stay clear of Big John. I need help with all of it." Jacob remained silent, studying me. I swallowed. It was against my temperament to push, but I didn't have a choice.