The Big Billionaire

by Lexi Aurora

  While Alison had a formidable, take-charge air about her, Teresa Oliver seemed more a figurehead, like the Queen of England. She didn’t seem to have much real power –that was all mostly Alison– but she did many public appearances and charity events to represent their good name. She had been married four times, giving birth to Adrian and Alison later in life with her second husband, the original Mr. Oliver. He’d passed away a few years prior to my introduction to the family, but from what I understood, Teresa’s subsequent marriages had all failed rather quickly. She refused to change her name when the father of her children died, and if the men had married her for her money, they hadn’t seen much of it. Rumors had circulated a few times that Adrian, at nineteen, punched his first stepfather in the face after seeing the man give Teresa an ultimatum regarding money and their marriage. This had only endeared the public to him more as they dubbed him a rich bad-boy with a heart of gold and soft spot for his mother.

  Right.

  “Doctor Quinnes, lovely to meet you, thank you for your willingness to work with us and for coming out on such short notice.” Teresa Oliver spoke rapidly, as though at any moment I might interject and inform her that something she was so happy about was incorrect. She shook my hand with a vigor that surprised me coming from a rather frail-looking woman.

  “I – oh, yes, of course. You’re quite welcome.” Before I could say anything else, Teresa was pouncing on me again.

  “You must be tired from your flight. And that drive! We’ll get you something drink, something to eat, and perhaps you’d like to take a quick cat-nap upstairs, hmm? It’s no problem, take your time, we want you to be comfortable, after all, you’re here doing us a favor-”

  “Mom.” Adrian spoke the single word firmly, in a voice that commanded everyone’s attention. It was the same voice that had gripped me over the phone. With the added visual of the man in front of me, holding an unlit cigarette between his teeth, it was almost too much for my senses to handle at once.

  “I think you’re freaking Scarlett out a little.” I noticed he didn’t add my title to it, or address me by my last name. If it was some kind of power play –I knew these rich types were famous for that – he would have to try a little harder.

  “Don’t worry yourself, Adrian, I can handle myself quite alright,” I answered smoothly, only feeling less self-assured when he looked up at me without raising his head, his eyes glimmering with the smile his lips didn’t hold while he raised the lighter to a cigarette.

  “Adrian!” Alison barked out his name. “Smoke that outside, for God’s sake. You know I can’t stand tobacco.”

  “Sure thing.” Adrian sauntered away towards the door, and I had a feeling that his smoking was, in this instance, just a convenient way to get out of negotiations. Before he closed the front door behind him, he glanced from his mother, to me, to Alison, and took a drag. “And, Alison, don’t worry. It’s not tobacco.”

  Chapter Four

  ADRIAN

  I had a laugh at my sister’s expense as I stepped outside with my joint. Scarlett had looked on in confusion while my mother just seemed tired, like she’d come to expect it. What I smoked was a pretty weak strain, and I’d only recently taken the habit back up again outside of a “party” environment in order to alleviate the building stress. But no one else needed to know that.

  I stayed outside for a while, eventually using the back door to come in the house again, which allowed me to get up to my rooms without seeing anyone else already there, minus a few disinterested butlers. I slipped into my bathroom, shedding my shabby “civilian” clothes and getting into a hot shower. If only for my own amusement, I thought of Scarlett while I lathered shampoo into my hair and let the suds run down my body.

  I wondered how much she’d seen of me before this. Did she ever see those pictures of me, naked, that had been floating around for a while from when I went to Monaco? Surely, she must have some idea of what I looked like undressed. I’d done a few Calvin Klein shoots in the past, and my bare chest had been plastered over a number of billboards across the world for a while.

  That could be a good jumping off point. It leaves us in a rather unsatisfactory position, Doctor. You see, you know much more about me than I do about you. We’ll get to know each other better over some Bombay Sapphire over ice; clothing is optional but strongly discouraged. What made the idea even more exciting to me was the knowledge that outside of the fantasy, Scarlett would almost certainly never entertain the idea of taking me up on the offer. But the fantasy was another story. It continued in my head as I stepped out of the shower, drying off with no real rush.

  She flushed, her hair loose around her shoulders and glasses slipping down her nose. “Mr. Oliver, please, I’m just here on business…” She would protest weakly, of course, but her hands would already be working at the buttons of her blouse, mine coming up quickly to help her…

  There was a knock on the bathroom door that startled me from the daydream seconds before I could decide what kind of bra Scarlett would wear, and how I would subsequently take it off. I tucked my towel in front of me, just enough to cover the important parts, knowing it was probably Alison coming to scold me for any number of wrongdoings I’d committed in the past twenty-four hours. The list was long, and even then, those were only the ones she knew about.

  I opened the door halfway, ready to match whatever snarky comment my sister was about to make, and stopped dead in my tracks when the eyes looking back up at me were definitely not my sister’s.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod, I’m so sorry,” Scarlett mumbled, turning her reddening face away from me and towards the floor.

  I was both aroused and horrified when I saw her – she looked so much like she had in my fantasy. Her hair had been partially let down, her face was covered in a warm pink blush, and her glasses were slowly sliding down her face as she strived to look anywhere but at me. The cool, collected vibe she’d had going on earlier was completely gone now, and it was this look at her raw vulnerability that made her even sexier to me.

  Knowing that someone so intelligent and self-assured could also be reduced to a sexually-excited mess by me only strengthened my desire for her. It suddenly became a kind of predator/prey dynamic in my mind… in the short while we’d known each other, our mutual attraction had become blatantly obvious, and we’d already switched positions in the dynamic more than once. Now, we were on my territory, but I knew Scarlett wouldn’t be backing down so easily. All the more reason for a chase. I hadn’t had a good one of those in quite a while.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s indecent here.” I opened the door a little further, letting more steam out of the bathroom. The cold air from the hall hit my skin, sending a shiver down my spine and causing me to grip the doorframe harder.

  “I was, um, I was looking for the room, fourth on the left, Alison said…” Scarlett stumbled over her words, unable to meet my eyes.

  “Yeah, no, that’s one door further down that way,” I said nonchalantly, gesturing towards the proper room. I leaned against the doorframe, keeping the towel in front of me, but letting it fall a little lower, so Scarlett could see the sharp “V” of my hips meeting my torso. Water droplets made tracks down my firm abs, collecting when they hit the towel, and Scarlett looked anywhere but at me.

  “Oh, right, I didn’t see that door there on the…” Scarlett cleared her throat, collected herself, and straightened up a little. She forced her gaze onto my face, locking her eyes with mine so she wasn’t tempted to look anywhere else.

  I smirked. “So, how’d it go down there?” My wording was completely intentional, but Scarlett held her ground with me.

  “Your family is lovely,” she said. “I can’t figure out what might’ve happened to you.”

  “It’s usually just the men,” I shrugged. “We can’t help ourselves.”

  “Seems a pathetic excuse for being a jerk.” Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest and stood with a hip jutted out to one side, her eyebrow raised
. “Anyway, that really doesn’t matter. I hope you’re prepared for an early morning tomorrow.”

  I groaned. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m more a fan of late nights. Did you know things actually heat up a lot when the sun goes down?” I leaned closer to her. “Does your job even give you a chance to learn that? Do you give yourself a chance?”

  “I know plenty,” she snapped. “I know we’ll be making our way back to the airport tomorrow. I know we’re catching an 8 a.m. flight to Barcelona, Spain. I know that I’m stuck with you for the next few days while I get to the bottom of what looks to be a trade deal gone wrong.” The more she spoke, the angrier she sounded.

  “What? Why do I have to go?”

  “That’s as good a question as any, considering you’re pretty much useless.” Scarlett was getting her footing back with me. “But your lawyers insist that someone from the family accompany me, and it can’t be your mother or your sister. They actually have jobs.”

  “And I don’t? I mean, I’ve been reduced to a babysitter?”

  “Well, if even half of what your mother says about your affinity for a good Spanish red is true, I doubt you’ll be the one left feeling like a babysitter.” She stepped closer to me, and I knew she could feel the heat radiating off my still-wet skin.

  “Just remember.” She lowered her voice in a way that I assume she meant to be threatening, but only served to turn me on faster than I could comprehend. “This is business to me. This is my job, my career. I have worked too long and too hard to get here for some spoiled prince to jeopardize it. I clawed my way up to the top, fighting sexism, doubt, and everyone’s preconceived notions of me.” At this, she faltered, realizing she might be revealing too much, but she recovered and continued. “All of that may mean nothing to you, but it is everything to me. And I swear to you, if I suspect for one minute you might put my livelihood at risk, I will catch the first flight back home and leave you to figure this mess out on your own.”

  I was holding the towel with a looser grip, and it was coming dangerously close to not covering anything. But I was staring into Scarlett’s eyes, watching the fire burn inside them match her fierce promise, and the rest of the world was only background noise to me. I stepped closer to her, and though I could have towered over her, I didn’t want to appear intimidating. I just wanted her to know I was serious about what I said, and of course ready to have sex with her at a moment’s notice.

  “This is my family we’re talking about. I’m not going to do anything to hurt them, and I’m not going to do anything that might hurt you. I’ll work with you on this, and I’ll teach you to have a little fun. Both can happen, you know.” One corner of my mouth came up in a smirk. “Now you have two choices. You can either go to your room over there, or you can come to my room over here.”

  Scarlett took a deep breath and stepped back.

  I’d never had a door slammed in my face so hard.

  Chapter Five

  SCARLETT

  I was livid. Mostly at myself. But also at Adrian. Who the hell does he think he is? Just when it seems like I’m getting through to him, he’s got to go and be a dick about it, I was griping to myself internally as I paced around the guest room that the Olivers had been gracious enough to lend me for the night. Though I’d insisted I didn’t mind staying at a hotel, and might even prefer it, they were ever the perfectly-presenting host family, and I didn’t want to offend them.

  Still, it was frustrating to know I would have taken Adrian up on his offer, had it been any other situation. I was stupidly, furiously attracted to him, and any outward hatred I showed was only serving to cover up how badly I wanted to feel him on me. He annoyed me, sure, but there was something about his challenging, bad-boy behavior that made me want to fuck him senseless.

  It had been so long since I’d felt like that about anyone. I never had much time for dating, or even interest. Most people I could meet through friends were already colleagues, and to use a very crude phrase: I don’t shit where I eat.

  Ugh, I thought. This must be Adrian’s influence. I’m talking like some crass college student.

  I also could never bring myself to sign up for any kind of online dating or match-finder programs. I had tried that, once, at the behest of my cousin, who was two years older than me and already married with a child. She’d made a profile for me without my knowledge, but I’d agreed to go out with a guy from the site who’d shown some interest in me. We weren’t more than thirty minutes into dinner when he confessed that he was a writer for a network morning show, and he was given an assignment for a “flashback” episode. Apparently, it had been almost twenty years since I first appeared on that same show as a child, showing off my prodigious violin skills in front of the world. He admitted he wanted to interview me, and no, he wasn’t interested in dating me.

  I distinctly remember slapping two twenty-dollar bills on the table, grabbing my purse, and walking out of the restaurant without looking back. That was two years before Adrian Oliver came into my life, and nothing had happened for me with any man since.

  I stewed over my memories, opening and re-opening old wounds, for most of the night. I eventually did fall asleep, because damn, rich people sure do know how to make a nice bed. It must have been the thread count of the sheets and the stuffing of the pillows, because I didn’t remember actually falling asleep, but I woke up feeling like I was resting on a perfect cloud.

  Begrudgingly, I got out of bed and packed up all my things, making sure the room was spotless before I left. I had to wait on Adrian, because of course I had too, and Alison, claiming she’d always been an early riser, made me some coffee before we left.

  Less than a minute before our car was supposed to leave for the airport, Adrian stumbled his way downstairs in a pair of dark jeans and a grey Henley. He wore sunglasses, but at least there was no ridiculous pseudo-disguise today.

  “Try not to shame this family any more than you already have, Ade.” Alison sighed, sounding exhausted. Adrian nodded wordlessly before picking up my bag and his –apparently that kind of behavior was just ingrained in him– without a second thought.

  “Take care of yourself, Dr. Quinnes. Bring us back good news,” Alison said, smiling at me hopefully.

  “I’ll do what I can. Give your mother my best, and thank you both for the hospitality.” I shook Alison’s hand and hurried out the door, climbing into the car swiftly as Adrian was still taking his time. We had barely gotten onto the freeway on the road to the airport when I heard him snoring faintly next to me. I rolled my eyes.

  Despite who I was stuck with, I was excited about our mission. I’d never really had the opportunity to do field work, since I’d thrown myself into academia from the beginning of my career and hadn’t emerged since. I didn’t mind being cooped up in libraries and lecture halls, but even I knew the benefits of getting out of the old comfort zone. Besides, I could always lean on the fact that I would never be the least knowledgeable person in the room.

  That, of course, would be Adrian.

  We made it to the airport and got through security without any complications. I turned to Adrian once we were in the main terminal, standing at a cross-section of gates.

  “Alright, which gate are we flying out of?”

  “Not any of these.” Adrian lowered his sunglasses a bit to look around. “God, you didn’t think we’d be flying commercial, did you?”

  “I…” So much for being the most knowledgeable person in the room.

  Adrian chuckled, deep and throaty. “Scarlett, I have, like, four private jets.” He stopped, frowned, and continued. “Well, I did. Two are in repair and the other two are, uh, being loaned out for some of my buddies. This one is my mother’s, which would explain the heinous departure time.”

  “Heinous. Didn’t really expect that to be in your vocabulary,” I grumbled, unsure of what to say when I was once again reminded of just how different our two worlds really were.

  “I did go to some very good schoo
ls,” he said. “And when I did badly there, I had some very good tutors. Of course, they couldn’t figure out what was going on when it was very clear I didn’t need them.”

  “Let me guess. You knew everything, but pretended you didn’t, because doing otherwise wouldn’t have worked for your image?” I replied, snarky.

  “No. I knew everything but I never showed up to class or did the homework. If I already knew what I needed to know, what was the point of anything else? I got by acing tests, and I graduated, and, you know, what else could I do?”

  By this point, Adrian and I had shown our I.D. cards to a security officer and were being led down to the plane. We stopped talking every so often when our bags were being loaded on and when Adrian stopped to talk to the pilots. I was already on the plane and seated on a plush couch with a mimosa in my hand when Adrian got on and took a seat on a leather armchair across from me.

  “So, telling you all that, here’s what I don’t get.” Adrian had taken off his sunglasses and seemed a little more awake but still relaxed.

  “How in the hell did you survive school the way you did?” he asked me. “And then kept going into more school? And, what, just never stopped?”

  “What do you mean? I was – am – good at school. When I found my niche in academia, I stuck with it, and used what I could to my advantage so I’d be able to keep going and excel in my field,” I told him.

  I didn’t like being reminded that while the classes were easy, the overall experience of school wasn’t. Skipping grades made me feel like even more of an outsider, and even as an accomplished adult scholar I faced skepticism from people because of my age and background. I’d spent the better part of my conscious childhood trying desperately to live up to expectations, and it took me years of study (and some therapy) to become confident enough in my own abilities that I could ignore the rest of the annoying buzz around me.

  “You didn’t just want to finish and get out? That’s what I did.”