Resisting the Billionaire

by Allie Winters

“It’s too much. I can’t- I can’t,” she sputters, a deep wrinkle between her brows.

  “You can,” I tell her, stroking more insistently. “I’ll give you everything you need. Trust me.”

  “I do. I promise, I do.” She squirms, body twitching as a keening cry escapes her, tumbling over the edge.

  I follow her quickly, unable to hold back, the groan that releases from me coming from somewhere primal, that place deep within that asserts this is the woman I’m destined to be with. The one I’ve been waiting for without ever realizing it.

  I pour myself into her, limbs shaking, kissing her with abandon, unable to stop. She wraps her arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace, her actions speaking louder than words could right now.

  I drop next to her on the bed after a moment, smoothing her hair back from her face, her temples damp as I place a gentle kiss there, and breathe in her sweet scent. Everything is finally coming together, everything right in my world.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” she whispers, almost reluctantly.

  “I don’t either.”

  “There might be backlash, especially from your dad.”

  “There might,” I agree.

  She leans back to look at me. “Aren’t you concerned?”

  I gather her close again, not ready to give up the feel of her just yet. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes, but right now I’m too happy to care.”

  She bites at her bottom lip, looking pleased. “You’re happy?”

  “Fucking ecstatic.”

  “Because you don’t have to marry Serena?”

  “Because I have you,” I clarify.

  Her face breaks out into a wide grin, snuggling further into me, her presence a balm to my soul.

  As long as I have her, I can handle all the rest.

  I wake slowly, a soft body draped over my left side. I instinctively pull it closer, running my hand down a bare back, the feel of it tempting, inviting.

  A distinctly feminine noise of displeasure sounds directly in my ear and my eyes pop open, the events of last night rushing back to me.

  Mackenzie showing up at my apartment, finally coming together in an overdue frenzy. Later in the night taking her again, the two of us desperate for one another, though we have all the time in the world now.

  She shifts next to me, burrowing further under the covers, and I watch her unobserved for a few moments before her eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep.

  “Was it a dream?” she asks, her voice scratchy before she clears her throat.

  “No.” I lean over and kiss her softly, running my hands over her nude body, unable to help myself. “What do you have planned for today?”

  “Um, work,” she says, rolling over and pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  “Can I persuade you to play hooky and stay here in bed all day with me?” I pull down the covers, reaching up to fondle her chest.

  She lets out a soft groan as I caress her, her toes curling against my lower leg underneath the sheets. “Haven’t you had enough of me?”

  “I’ll never have enough,” I whisper, nibbling now at her neck.

  Her breath catches, tone more serious as she says, “I was half afraid you wouldn’t be interested today.”

  I stop what I’m doing, taken aback. “What?”

  “You know,” she shrugs, glancing away a little too nonchalantly. “The thrill of the chase is over. You got what you want.”

  She won’t meet my gaze, so I tip her chin up till she’s forced to look me in the eye. “I want so much more with you. Anything you’ll give me. And you’ll forever be worth the wait.”

  The last of the sleepiness clears from her eyes, unabashed pleasure on her face as she leans in to kiss me.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her just how much I want her, how much she means to me, words of love that have never crossed my lips bursting to come out, when her phone rings.

  “Ugh, work,” she sighs, leaving me to grab her cell off the nightstand closest to her. She must have gone and retrieved it from her purse sometime during the night, her charger plugged into the outlet too.

  “I’ll leave you to it.”

  I slip on my boxers and hop out of bed to make my way into the adjoining bathroom to relieve myself, staring at my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands afterward. There’s a shit-eating grin on my face, my body so fucking buoyant I can practically feel my heels lifting off the ground.

  No matter what Dad throws at me today, how he tries to spin it as my fault, at least I have Mackenzie now. And like she said, I held up my end of the deal. He can’t blame me for that.

  I walk back into the bedroom, about to renew my request for her to actually take a full day off for a change, only to find her sitting up on the side of the bed, feet on the floor and fully dressed again, staring at her phone.

  She glances up as I approach, her sober expression sending a rush of ice through my veins.

  “What is it?”

  “That was Serena,” she says, her voice almost monotone. “She talked to her dad and… the wedding is still on.”

  Those buoyant heels come crashing down, so much that I nearly stumble before reaching a hand out toward the wall to steady myself. “What?”

  “You’re still engaged.”

  It takes me a moment to process her words, each individual word making sense, but put together in that order… no, it can’t be right.

  It’s only when her lower lip trembles for the briefest second before firming it that I know it’s real.

  I stagger over to kneel in front of her, cupping her face as tears pool in those beautiful hazel eyes, the green and brown blurring until I can barely make out the color. Or maybe that’s just my eyes getting blurry. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

  “It does.”

  She places her hands on my wrists and sets me away from her, slipping out from between me and the bed to stand on the other side of the room, wiping surreptitiously at her cheeks. “Last night was a… blip. We’ll go back to the way things were before.”

  Is she kidding? “Which part of before? Where we admitted how much we actually want each other? Or where we masturbated in front of each other?”

  She presses her lips together tightly, and I swear it’s not my intention to piss her off, but I need to make her understand. “I can’t go back to how it was before. You can’t deny what’s between us. Even when we try to stay apart, we find our way to each other anyway.”

  I take a step toward her, but she holds out a hand, her arm shaky. “Gabriel, if we get caught, we’ll both lose everything. Your money. Your relationship with your family. My business. I’d bet anything your father will make sure of it. I can’t-” She pauses to sniff, then composes herself again. “It’s too risky.”

  My heart tears to shreds with each word she utters, her reasoning perfectly logical, but I’m not in the realm of logic anymore. There’s more at stake now.

  “I shouldn’t have come over here,” she continues. “I should have made sure it was a done deal before I-”

  “No. Don’t regret what happened. I don’t. Not for one second.” The memory of last night is the only thing that’ll get me through the next couple weeks if she’s serious about staying apart.

  She looks at me, desperate pleading in her eyes for just a moment before she clears it, bending down to grab her heels.

  I reach out a hand to her and she finally lets me touch her, using me for balance to finish putting on her shoes. “Tell me you don’t regret it,” I murmur.

  She closes her eyes, gripping my fingers tightly. “I don’t,” she admits. “I should, but I don’t.” She lets go of me, opening the bedroom door. “But it can’t happen again. I’ve said that before, and I hate seeming so wishy-washy, but I mean it this time.”

  “Okay, fine. We can just go back to flirting, talking dirty to each other. That’s not hurting anyone.”

  “Me,” she whispers, the fight lea
ving her momentarily. “It would hurt me. I know it was my idea, but the thought of staying on the edge like that, playing with fire… If I’m being honest, I can’t trust myself around you. It’s been so hard resisting you already.”

  “You don’t have to resist me,” I growl. When will she realize I’m hers?

  Her eyes narrow, glowering at me as she pushes my shoulder. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. Why won’t you let me do the right thing?”

  “Fuck what’s right. This is right.” I take her hand again, squeezing her fingers. “What if I called off the wedding?” My gaze flicks between her eyes, searching for the smallest bit of acceptance, anything that might give us a chance.

  But it seems she’d be one hell of a poker player.

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” she says, turning away from me and walking back out to the foyer to grab her purse.

  “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

  She whirls around to face me. “Didn’t you just hear me say all the reasons it would be bad? Money, family, business,” she ticks off on her fingers. “All gone.”

  The first two I couldn’t care less about right now. But her business? The thing she loves more than anything else? No, I can’t ask her to give that up.

  And she’s right. If Dad found out she had something to do with this broken engagement, there’d be repercussions. I’ve watched him ruthlessly tear his competitors apart. There’s no reason he wouldn’t do the same to her, especially if he perceived it as personal.

  “I have to go home and change,” she says, her tone nearly normal again, glancing down at her wrinkled dress. “You have an appointment at your tailor at eleven to make sure your tux fits right.”

  I nod, watching her transform into wedding planner Mackenzie. The woman who has it all put together and planned out. Who doesn’t need me. It kills me, but what can I do? She’s made up her mind.

  She glances back once as she opens the door, her eyes holding an apologetic resoluteness before she closes it.

  And closes me out of her life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mackenzie

  I stare at my reflection in the tiny bathroom at work, my makeup barely hiding the dark circles under my eyes. It was a sleepless night, Gabriel’s hurt fresh in my mind every time I tried to drift off.

  He said he would call off the wedding himself. So he can be with me. Forgoing his money, his family. Everything he’s ever known.

  For me.

  I’m sure as hell not worthy of that kind of loyalty. I can’t disrupt his whole life like that. What if he came to resent me for it? Or things don’t work out? He’d be ruined because of me.

  I can’t do that to him. I won’t.

  And besides, it would set me back so far too. Everything I’ve worked for gone if his father found out. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d be vindictive just for the pure pleasure of it.

  No, I made the right choice. The rational one.

  It was the only thing I could do.

  So why does it seem like a part of me has died? Some essential space inside shriveled up, dead and rotting, slowly infecting everything else.

  Jesus Christ, dramatic much?

  Still, I can’t help the tears that slip down my cheeks, the pain fresh even a day later. I told myself I’d be under control by now, ready to get back at it. I’d been too numb yesterday to be of much use to anyone. Thank God I at least didn’t have to meet with any clients.

  But today, I do. I have an initial consultation with that couple that emailed a few days ago about their wedding. And they should be here in about thirty minutes. Just enough time for the redness to fade from my eyes hopefully. The last thing anyone wants is a depressed wedding planner.

  There’s a gentle knock on the door and then Diana’s tentative voice. “Are you okay in there?”

  What, could she hear me sniffling or something? Or sense the intense melancholy seeping out from under the bathroom door?

  My first instinct is to frantically wipe it all away, any trace of sadness, any proof that anything is wrong. I’ve been so used to go, go, going non-stop, hustling, not giving myself a chance to breathe, to feel.

  And now, to grieve.

  For what was, what could have been. A connection with someone I never expected. Didn’t ask for but happened all the same. The pull between us was too strong.

  I open the door and fall into Diana’s arms, her gasp of surprise soon swallowed as she soothes a palm down my back. “Mackenzie, what is it?”

  “I fell in love,” I murmur, wishing she was someone else I could cling to. A certain man with broad shoulders and dark hair that curls right at the nape of his neck. Who makes me feel both excited and safe, tormenting me with pleasure and soothing my soul.

  Will our night together one day fade to memory, the remembrance of our ill-fated relationship merely something to occasionally recall with fondness? Or will it continue to haunt me, unable to move past the wanting I have for him, the love?

  “What’re you talking about?” she asks, a deep wrinkle forming between her brows. “Who are you in love with? When did you even meet someone? You’re always here working.”

  “I-” How can I admit it to her? Especially after she was so apologetic.“Gabriel and his fiancee have an arranged marriage that neither of them wants,” I blurt out. “But you can’t tell anyone. I signed an NDA.”

  “Okay…” she says slowly, staring at me like I’ve got three heads. “But what does that have to do with…” She steps away, clapping a palm over her mouth. “You lied to me.”

  “No, no.” I reach out, grasping her free hand. “We tried to fight it, I promise. We were so good. But then Serena called off the wedding two nights ago and I… I slept with him.”

  “You slept with the groom of the biggest wedding you’ve ever landed?” If there was a picture of shock in the dictionary, it would be her face at this exact moment.

  Oh God, if anyone’s out in the shop overhearing us, what must they be thinking?

  “He was unengaged. But now it’s back on. I told him I couldn’t see him anymore, even after he offered to call off the whole thing and I…” I stare at her, her lips set in a mutinous line. “I’m heartbroken. Can you just be my friend and hug me?”

  She rolls her eyes and opens her arms again. “Come here,” she grumbles.

  I hug her tightly, relieved she doesn’t hate me at least.

  “If he feels strongly enough about you to offer to call off his wedding, why is he even still going through with it?”

  “His dad threatened to cut him off. Disown him completely and cut his brothers off too if they try to help him. I can’t be responsible for that. And I’m pretty sure Mr. Bishop would trash my business if he found out I was the reason Gabriel didn’t marry the girl he wanted. Or rather, whatever business deal didn’t go through.”

  “He can’t do that,” she huffs, indignation clear in her voice. Thank goodness she’s already on my side again.

  “I was looking online last night and found this article about a private chef he used to employ. For whatever reason, he fired her and then she couldn’t find work in the city after that. He’d blacklisted her. She tried suing him for defamation but could never definitively prove it.”

  “Maybe she just wasn’t a good chef.”

  “She’d have to be pretty talented for him to hire her in the first place. And I really can’t believe no one would want to hire the person who was a private chef for a billionaire.”

  “Mackenzie.” She sets me away from her gently, taking hold of my shoulders. “Maybe things aren’t as black and white as they first sounded, but it’s still not a good idea to get involved in all that.”

  I will my eyes not to leak, despite crying last night more than I have in the past year. You’d think I’d have run out of tears. “So you think I made the right choice?”

  “I do,” she nods somberly. “It was the responsible thing to do.”

  Responsible. It almost sounds
like an insult. Or perhaps that’s just the little devil on my shoulder processing it that way.

  The sudden urge to fling responsibility right out the window is nearly overwhelming, but I quickly suppress it as the door to the shop chimes as someone enters.

  “I’ll get that.” Diana heads out of the backroom toward the customer, the sounds of her warmly greeting and directing them to my office somewhat of a balm to my soul.

  At least I can lose myself in my work. Thanks to the Bishops, I finally have the number of clients I was first hoping for when I went off on my own. People are coming to me rather than me desperately seeking them out.

  I step back into the bathroom for a moment to make sure I don’t have raccoon eyes, and pinch my cheeks to put some color in them before pasting on a smile.

  It’s a bit wobbly, but it’ll have to do.

  Because I’m a masochist, I somehow find myself at the children’s hospital, standing at the front desk of Gabriel’s mother’s wing, the nurse on duty eyeing me skeptically.

  I thought it would be a good idea to get out of my head and focus on others for a change, rather than return home to an apartment of nothingness, but apparently, this nurse didn’t get the memo.

  “You’re not related to anyone here?” she asks, her tone indicating that I’m somewhere on the level of a simpleton. “How’d you get through security?”

  “I-” I find myself shrinking back from her accusation, a part of me wanting to turn around and admit defeat, but I already took the subway here, and I didn’t endure being stuck on there next to a contender for the worst-smelling man I’ve ever encountered just so this lady could run me off. “I came here with a friend on my last visit. You might know him. Gabriel Bishop?”

  Her expression immediately changes, taking on a deferential quality. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Holy shit. I got used to dropping Harold Bishop’s name when trying to wrangle up vendors for the wedding, but I wasn’t aware Gabriel’s held so much power too.

  “Would you like to visit Kaia?” another nurse asks, approaching us. She was here at the desk last time.