The Billionaire's Demands (A Boardrooms and Billionaires Series Book) (Entangled Indulgence)

by Fox, Addison

  But here? In her personal life?

  She was an unholy mess.

  The light buzz of her phone pulled her attention from the mirror—and off the dress—and Camryn reached for the device as though it was a life preserver. “Camryn McBride.”

  “Are you wearing the green dress like you promised me you would?”

  A hard laugh burst from her chest as Sinclair’s voice pummeled her ear. “Of course I am.”

  “I’m three thousand miles away and I can hear the wheels turning in your head that the dress is inappropriate.”

  Camryn fought the urge to pull the phone from her ear and give it a goggle-eyed stare. How did he know? “There are no wheels in my head, turning or otherwise.”

  “There are wheels and your nose is growing, but I’m not going to quibble. Switch to video so I can see how beautiful you look.”

  Camryn made the quick adjustment on her phone as Sinclair’s slender features came up on the flat screen. A light sigh escaped his lips before they spread in a broad smile. “Gorgeous. Abso-fricking-lutely gorgeous, woman. Pull the phone back and give me the full view.”

  She did as he ordered, oddly bolstered by his sweet words and wolf whistles.

  “What shoes are you wearing?”

  “The strappy Pradas. Just like we discussed.”

  “Oh Lord.” Sinclair fanned his face. “Gorgeous and sexy. If I weren’t so in love with my Joe you could tempt me to switch teams.”

  The nerves were back, only this time a rising note of panic joined them. “This is a business dinner, Sinclair. I’m not supposed to look like some tramp.”

  “As if.” Sinclair let out a heavy snort. “You look like you could conquer the world, and in that ensemble you’re going to look damn fine doing it.”

  The frustrated tears she’d barely held back earlier flooded her eyes once more, but this time they were layered with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of relief. The appreciative coos still echoing through her phone flashed over to a tone a drill sergeant would envy. “Don’t muss your makeup. You can cry later, if you must, although…”

  Sinclair left the words hang there and after a small sniff she took the bait. “Although what?”

  “I’ve known Booth Harrison a long time. He’s not a man who misses an opportunity. Ever.”

  “What does opportunity have to do with anything?”

  “Oh, darling.” Sinclair shook his head before pointing a stern finger at her. “One look at you in that dress and the man would be a fool to let you out of his sight.”

  …

  Booth paced the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, willing his raging nerves to calm. He’d interviewed heads of state who had caused him less anxiety than waiting for this one tiny slip of a woman. A quiet hum filled the elegant lobby, but he was barely aware of it as visions of their afternoon—especially that kiss on the pier—dominated his thoughts.

  She was an amazing woman, full of more facets than the most brilliant diamond. She had brains, beauty, and a subtle elegance that managed to reach up and grab him by the throat. He also couldn’t deny that he simply and unequivocally enjoyed her company. Starting with their early flight, straight through their post-lunch tourist adventure, the conversation had flowed smooth and easy. From her grasp of business to her ability to dissect the Bourne movies, to the latest thriller she’d read and couldn’t stop raving about, Camryn McBride was the whole package.

  When had he become so smitten with her?

  The elevator doors swished open and smitten ratcheted straight on to kicked-in-the-head-infatuated as she stepped off the elevator, one long, elegant leg visible through the slit in her gown.

  The air coursing through his lungs—air he’d never given much thought to—stuck in his chest and had his mouth gaping open like one of the freshly caught fish he’d seen on the pier today. The urge to touch her was so intense his fingers nearly burned from wanting as he moved toward her.

  “Good evening, Booth.”

  He leaned in to kiss to her cheek, shifting at the very last moment to press his lips lightly to hers. Her mouth opened on a small O of surprise and he lingered briefly, captivated by the light rush of her breath as it fanned his lips before pulling away. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her dark eyes softened at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  “While I’d like nothing more than to skip out on this evening, I don’t think our guests would appreciate being stood up.” He settled a hand at her waist, unable to resist touching her. “Shall we go?”

  “That’s probably best.”

  Camryn looked up at him and his mouth went dry at the raw hunger he saw in her gaze. He fought to control his raging emotions, even while he’d like nothing more than to turn them both around and walk her straight back to the elevator and up to his suite. “The car’s outside.”

  Pete was waiting for them and had the door open and ready for them as they approached. “Mr. Harrison. Ms. McBride.”

  “Good evening, Pete.” Camryn’s warm smile lit up her face and Booth was struck once more by yet another facet of her. She was such a warm woman. Reserved, yes, but even the quiet exterior couldn’t hide her innate warmth.

  He watched, captivated, as she gathered the material of her dress to slide into the limo. The simple peek he’d had of her legs in the hotel lobby broadened as he caught a fuller glimpse of her slender thighs, and erotic images punched him in the gut with swift fists.

  Camryn, naked in his arms, those long, toned legs wrapped around his waist.

  Camryn, writhing beneath him as he kissed a path down her inner thigh.

  Camryn, wrapped in his arms as they fell into a deep sleep after making love.

  It was the last image that caught him up short. When had he begun thinking of waking up with her?

  Booth didn’t miss Pete’s knowing gaze—even as the man’s face remained stoically polite—before he climbed into the car. Nor did he miss Camryn’s subtle scent that filled his senses as he slid in next to her.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” Booth fought the urge to drag at his tie. “I’m fine. Why?”

  A slight frown marred the corners of her mouth. “I don’t know. You looked stricken, all of a sudden. Like something happened.”

  Something had happened, all right. Yes, he wanted her, but when had he begun to think of her with some degree of permanence? “Just preparing my sales pitch.”

  The frown vanished, replaced by a broad smile. “I should have known. The urge to vanquish and conquer is never all that far from your thoughts, is it?”

  He held back a choking cough—she had no idea how close she’d come to hitting the mark, even if the conquering part had nothing to do with business. “You know me. Work, work, work.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  The question caught him up short and Booth twisted from their side-by-side positions so he could really look at her. “It’s my life.”

  “That wasn’t my question.”

  “I suppose I do. I mean, it’s a living. A damn good one.”

  “And you’re still avoiding the question.”

  Booth sensed something else underneath her words and couldn’t hold back a question of his own. “Why is it so important to you?”

  “I’m curious about people. Curious about what makes them tick and why they make the choices they do.”

  “And you think I’m making the wrong choice? Working for my father? Running my own business interests?”

  “Hardly. I was just curious if you had any fun doing it.”

  …

  Camryn wasn’t sure why she kept pressing the issue—Booth’s daily job satisfaction was hardly her concern—but now that she had the bit between her teeth she wasn’t willing to let go until he answered.

  “Work isn’t exactly fun but it does have its moments. This week’s meeting in Hawaii is a perfect example of that.”

  “No, it’s not always fun. But it’s not drudgery, either. Or it shouldn’t be.” She
smoothed the fabric of her dress, well aware this evening fully constituted one of the things she loved about her job.

  His smile—the one she thought of as his glamorous flash for the media—was firmly in place. “Perhaps that’s the difference between working for my father and working with your sisters.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Silence wrapped around them, the only noise the low purr of the limousine, and Camryn thought she’d overstepped. So it was a surprise when Booth spoke once again. “My father’s a difficult man, which I’m sure you’re well aware of since he tried to sabotage the relationship between my brother and your sister. Hell, you had to spend two hours with him at dinner a few weeks ago. You got a face-to-face preview.”

  “And a follow-up phone call.”

  “What?”

  She’d wanted to tell him about the call from West since she’d fielded it, but something had held her back. Any time she thought to bring it up it felt out of place and she didn’t want to make more of it than it was.

  Yet not saying anything had begun to feel like something, too.

  “It wasn’t that big a deal. He just called me and gave me some instructions for how I should handle my speech to your sales team.”

  “He had no right.”

  “I suspect your father pokes into many things that aren’t really his right.”

  “You’re spot on the mark with that one.” He nodded and she saw some of the tension fade out of the brackets around his eyes. “What did he say, though?”

  “He’s threatened by the two of us, though I don’t know why.” She’d originally resisted the idea that West saw her that way, but after a call full of innuendo and accusation, she didn’t think she was off the mark.

  “I can give you two reasons. Your sister and my brother.”

  “What do they have to do with it?”

  “My father hates anything he can’t control. And Nathan’s always sat at the top of that list. Add on the fact that he tried to sabotage their relationship, and you have a situation that he wasn’t able to control, influence, or bully his way through.”

  “Yes, but he and Nathan had no relationship to speak of. Why suddenly start butting in now?”

  “Who knows what his reasons are.” Although his tone was casual, Camryn didn’t miss the way Booth’s fingers tightened against his thighs. “Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s just an innate need to go in and screw things up. Whatever the reason, his inability to influence Nathan is a thorn in his side.”

  Although she knew she kept her personal feelings close to the vest and normally allowed others their own counsel for the same reason, Camryn sensed there was something Booth was trying to articulate. “You seem to get along with him just fine and you handle him pretty well, despite all his stubborn, headstrong behavior.”

  “I’ve spent my life working for him. Even before I ever graduated, I was a part of the company. I’ve got a love for it—the pace and the energy and that electricity in the air as we output work every day. It gets in your blood and doesn’t let you go.”

  “I understand that. There’s a definite rush seeing a new project get off the ground or holding a brand-new issue of a magazine, fresh off the presses. You get to do that every day with a major daily newspaper.”

  “Exactly. There’s nowhere in the world I can go that people don’t know the Financial Journal. Nowhere in business the name isn’t respected. Do you know our journalism has exposed scandals that could have cost shareholders billions of dollars? Or that we act as a public watchdog to the SEC and other governmental financial organizations globally?”

  “Few understand the real power of the fourth estate.”

  “That’s the real reason I put up with my father. Why I continue to put up with him even though I’ve expanded to other businesses. Nathan’s accused me more than once of being under his thumb, but I’d have left long ago and not looked back if that were the only reason to stay. I have a real contribution to make to the FJ and I won’t walk away.”

  Camryn looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the passion he spoke of in each and every line of his body. “You love it.”

  “God yes. Don’t you?”

  She thought about what she and her sisters had built—or rebuilt, as it were—and realized that what she truly loved was how her work life had more deeply cemented the relationship with her sisters. “Yes, I love what we do. But for me, the work became synonymous with my relationships with my sisters. I found a way to be with my family while also exploiting my talents. Sort of a professional and personal win-win.”

  “Has it changed?”

  “Has what changed?”

  “The work. Now that Keira and Mayson are both married.”

  “No.” Camryn was quick to brush the question off before she stopped herself. “Actually, that’s not quite true.”

  How did she explain it?

  She was happy for her sisters. Happy for their lives and the new direction both were moving. So how did she explain the feelings of being left behind without making it seem as if she begrudged the two women she loved more than her own life?

  “Things are different, but fortunately, our core relationship is the same. And I’ve just had to come to understand that the things we used to do like shopping or lunch at the drop of a hat or standing weekly dinners aren’t so spontaneous anymore. They need a bit more planning than they used to.”

  “There are some that argue spontaneity is overrated.”

  The slight overtones of melancholy faded at his words and Camryn couldn’t hold back her grin. “Then they’ve never been spontaneous.”

  “Is that so?”

  Camryn saw the light in his eyes—and his intent—for the briefest moment before he moved. And then she was wrapped in strong arms and pulled against a broad chest that was deliciously impressive, even through the layers of his suit jacket and crisp white dress shirt. “I…I think so.”

  “Well, then. Maybe you can show me.” His words were a murmured whisper against her lips before he claimed her for his own.

  The heated moments earlier on the pier had nothing on this kiss, Camryn realized abstractly before she stopped thinking and allowed Booth to drag them both into the abyss. For the life of her, she couldn’t quite understand how moments that were long and languid with need could be so insistent.

  So urgent.

  With his mouth pressed to hers, Booth’s tongue slipped through her parted lips as one hand shifted to caress her jaw. The intimacy of the moment—and their merged breath—only reinforced that strange understanding that had seemed to beat between them from the first.

  Although their interactions had been limited, every moment in his company was comfortable. Familiar. Even while the distinct notes of discomfort played underneath, making her fully aware of the increasing attraction she couldn’t deny.

  As his lips moved with masterful precision over hers, Camryn had to admit she was quickly coming not to care. Why deny something that felt so damn good?

  With that thought foremost in her thoughts, she shifted her hands from where they lay pressed to his chest to slip underneath his suit jacket, fisting the material of his dress shirt above the waistband of his slacks. Hard muscle bunched underneath her fingertips, thick and ropy with strength. Desire flooded her limbs at his hard, masculine frame, and need burned her blood. She wanted this man.

  The subtle arguments she’d made to herself over the last several weeks—that anything physical would be too complicated or messy or ultimately heartbreaking—seemed very far away at the reality of being in his arms. His strong, clever fingers floated over her body before coming to rest against the side of her breasts. With determined movements, his thumbs ranged over the achy fullness of her breasts before teasing her nipples into hard points.

  Fire burned under her skin where his body tempted hers through the layers of material, and she abstractly wondered where these sensations had been all her life. Yes, she’d been touched before, but ne
ver had her body reacted with such abandon.

  With such desperate craving for the man who touched her.

  Booth’s lips curved over hers and she couldn’t hold back the corresponding smile. “I think we’re here.”

  “What?” She scrambled back, her brain desperate to catch up with her pounding heart. The sheer disorientation—and that very hard transition from hot and bothered to grown-up and responsible—pounded through her with flustered panic.

  “We’re at the restaurant. I think Pete just knocked on the door.”

  The pleasure that had suffused every inch of her body faded at the reality that she was making out with Booth in a restaurant parking lot. With potential business partners waiting inside.

  “Oh, God.” She scrambled for her clutch, digging for a small packet of tissues she kept inside. “Wipe your mouth.”

  “My mouth is fine.” He cracked a rather large grin as if to prove his point.

  “We were making out and I had on lipstick.”

  “A beautiful shade to be sure, but I rather like the way your lips look right now. And for the record”—he smiled and chucked her under the chin—“I don’t think I’ve made out in a car since I was eighteen.”

  She brushed off the sweet words, that confused, sexy disorientation still riding her hard. “How do my lips look?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh no.” She kept one hand on his body, holding him at bay as she flipped open the small mirror of her compact with her free hand. The abundantly clear evidence she’d just been thoroughly kissed reflected back at her. “We can’t do that again.”

  “Oh, yes we can.”

  Before she could protest, Booth dragged her back against him, that same crazy urgency smacking her square in the head once more as he pressed a hard, possessive kiss to her lips.

  When he pulled back, the teasing grin had faded, replaced with a predatory glint in his eyes that was nearly feral. “Now we both have something to think about through dinner.”

  …

  Booth couldn’t stop thinking about her. Or her mouth. Or the gorgeous, lithe lines of her body.