The Billionaire's Desire: The Complete Series

by Cassie Cross

  Pete nodded and turned toward the door.

  “We’ll see you in two weeks, Pete.” Abby’s voice was firm as she met Cole’s stare. He’d promised her a security free wedding and a bodyguard-free honeymoon. She’d be damned if he was going to back out of that promise now. “Enjoy your vacation.”

  She could see Cole swallow his argument, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his crisp, white collar. They’d had this argument before, and Abby wasn’t going to concede to Cole’s overly developed case of paranoia.

  Cole turned his head and nodded at Pete, admitting defeat.

  She sighed happily as she turned off the lights and then walked to the door, where Cole waited for her, his hand outstretched. She slid her fingers between his, relishing in the warmth of his touch and the way his palm fit against hers. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, pressing her mouth softly against his.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, before fishing her keys out of her purse. “C’mon. We’ve got a wedding to get ready for.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  COLE RELAXED into the fluffy, overstuffed cushions of the chair that took up most of the corner of their living room. A piece of furniture like this never would’ve fit into his old apartment, but he’d given Abby carte blanche to decorate this new penthouse to her liking. He’d bought the place shortly after he decided to propose to her, wanting to start their life together with a place of their own, untainted by his bachelor past.

  He surprised her with it the night he proposed. He proposed to her here, actually, just outside on the huge balcony that spanned the length of the apartment and wrapped around the eastern side. That night Cole told Abby he was taking her out to dinner, but when he picked her up, he brought her here under the guise that this was an investment property he was thinking about purchasing.

  Cole had given a lot of thought to how he’d propose to her. Abby was a woman who appreciated simplicity, someone who was wholly unimpressed by his wealth. He knew that she would be far more touched by something he spent a lot of time and effort on, rather than spent a lot of money on. So, he went to that diner down the street from his office that she liked so much, and he asked the chef to show him how to make her favorite burger and fries. Cole wasn’t much of a cook, and it took him ten visits to finally get it right.

  That night they ate her favorite burgers and fries out on the patio under the stars. Throughout the night, Cole told Abby all the things he loved about her, without repeating a single one. The way you laugh, he said, before popping a fry into his mouth. The way the bathroom smells after you shower, he whispered as he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. He walked her to the far side of the patio, which was bathed in candlelight and covered in pink and purple tulips—her favorite. As he slid his arm across the small of her back, he held her close and told her how much he loved her, how much she changed his life. How she made him a better man. He told her he wanted to give her everything she ever needed, everything she ever wanted. He told her he wanted to give her the world, but he wanted to start by giving her his last name. He got down on one knee with tears shining in his eyes as he slipped an antique diamond ring onto her finger. “Marry me,” he said, not really a question, more like a plea. Like he wouldn’t be able to breathe until she said yes (he didn’t, and she did).

  It didn’t even take Abby a second to cup Cole’s face in her hands and answer him with a soft, tender kiss. Afterwards, they christened their new home, beginning with a rousing session of the hottest sex they’d ever had, right here in this very spot. Cole would never tell Abby that was why he liked sitting in this chair so much, but he suspected she knew. She always seemed to know pretty much everything about him. And the day after tomorrow, he would finally, finally make her his wife. He looked down at the empty ring finger on his left hand, anxious to feel the weight of the platinum ring he’d be wearing around it.

  Cole was drawn out of his reverie by an incredibly loud, angry swear, let loose by his bride in their bedroom.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help in there?” he asked. He’d been banished out into the living room about an hour ago, after Abby swatted his greedy hands away from her waist, admonishing him for distracting her while she was preparing for their big day.

  “No,” she shouted. “I mean yes, I’m sure. No help!”

  He couldn’t help but smile.

  Abby walked out into the living room and through to the foyer, opening the door to the coat closet and staring inside, all the while tapping her foot on the floor. Apparently she hadn’t found what she was looking for, because she shut the door a little too forcefully, her tiny feet padding along the hardwood floor as she passed by Cole. He could hear her muttering to herself back in their bedroom, could hear the shuffling of fabric and the zipping of bags. Then there was a long stretch of quiet before she made another appearance in the living room, walking the same path to the coat closet.

  When Abby walked past Cole yet again, hands still empty, he gently caught her wrist. “Hey,” he said quietly. “What’s the matter?”

  Abby took a deep breath and sighed before her eyes finally met his. “We’re getting married in two days,” she replied, like that explained everything.

  “I know.” The hint of a smile teased the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t dare laugh, not until he knew she was okay.

  “And you’re just sitting here.”

  He really couldn’t help the full-on smile this time. “I asked if you needed help, and you said no.”

  “Don’t you have things to do?”

  He let his fingertips slide across the length of her wrist, skimming across the bone. He enjoyed watching the way the goosebumps bloomed over her skin from his touch. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of that reaction.

  “I packed yesterday,” he told her. Of course he was already packed; he’d been ready for this. Been ready for it ever since he first slipped that diamond ring on her finger, probably even before that.

  “I hate you,” Abby huffed, letting out a puff of air that made her side-swept bangs fly away from her face. Cole carefully tugged her towards him, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her onto the chair until she was straddling him, knees planted on either side of his thighs. His hands slid across the delicate skin of her arms, until he cradled her head in his hands, the pads of his thumbs lightly brushing her pink-tinged cheeks.

  “I thought you wanted to have a small wedding specifically to avoid this stress,” he reminded her, his voice soothing.

  Abby shrugged, looking down at him. “It’s still a wedding. It’s the only one I’m ever going to have. There’s bound to be some stress involved, regardless.”

  There was something about the way she said ‘the only one’ that reverberated through him, made his whole body taut with anticipation. Then he noticed how every muscle in Abby’s body was tense to the point of snapping, and he thought that he should do what he could to help her unwind. It would be his pleasure, after all.

  Cole gently brought his lips to Abby’s and kissed her. She melted into him almost immediately, and the knowledge that he had such an instant effect on her made him smile as his tongue traced her bottom lip and he licked into her mouth, drawing a soft moan from her. His hands slid down to the heels of her feet, and he kneaded his fingertips into her skin, loosening the tension. He moved up her calves to her thighs, taking his time, enjoying the friction as Abby ground her hips against him, making him hard.

  “Relax,” he whispered, his lips brushing the soft shell of her ear.

  Abby lifted her skirt, then fumbled with Cole’s belt, clumsily undoing it as the brass buckle clanged against itself and echoed through the room. She pulled down his zipper and pulled his cock out through his boxers, running the palm of her hand along the rigid length of him, drawing a hiss from his lips.

  Normally he would tease her, slide her underwear to the side and thumb her clit, make her ache and beg for him before he finally slid home. Tonight, he just wanted to be inside her, to f
eel the soft slide of her skin on his as she rocked back and forth, pushing them both towards ecstasy.

  Cole felt Abby’s heated breath on his cheek, then on his neck as she licked and nipped at the skin there. He reached down between them and tore the gauzy lace of her panties, ripping them clean off. If Abby even noticed, she didn’t make a sound, just guided his cock along the wetness of her slit before she sunk down onto him. Cole breathed in a short gasp, still not used to the tightness of her, the way she felt around him. He hoped he never would be.

  They were both still fully dressed, and there was something incredibly hot about that, Cole thought, but he wanted to feel the soft swell of her breasts between his teeth. So he lazily unbuttoned Abby’s blouse, his half-hooded eyes following every slow, lust-filled movement she made as she rode him, fingers digging into his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. Once Abby’s blouse was halfway unbuttoned, Cole slid the collar over her shoulders, letting it drape across the middle of her back. He pulled down the lacy cup of her bra and slid her nipple into his mouth. He bit down ever-so-gently, then laved at the delicate skin with his tongue to soften the sting. Abby gripped the short hair at the crown of his head between her fingers, pulling his head to the other breast so he could lavish it with attention. When she pulled him away to plant a kiss on his lips, he cupped her breasts in his hands, letting his thumb graze the valley between them as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

  “Cole,” she whispered, her movements kind of erratic as he kneaded the backs of her thighs, working out the knots.

  “I can’t wait to be married to you,” he said, hiding a smile in the crook of her neck. “You’ll be mine forever.”

  “I’m already yours,” she replied, placing one hand over his as he gripped her waist, bringing the other one down to play with her clit, the way he knew she liked it. “Forever.”

  He felt her orgasm come in soft, cresting waves; it was longer than it was intense, and she squeezed around him, pulling him along with her as he spent himself inside of her. Cole’s head fell back against the chair and Abby looked down at him with the soft, satisfied smile of a woman who didn’t have a care in the world. Mission accomplished.

  She pulled her shirt back up around her shoulders, and Cole felt her shiver, so he gathered her tightly to his chest and kissed the top of her head. He breathed deep, loving the smell of her shampoo. Sometimes, on the weekend mornings when she’d wake up early to head to the shop and he opened his eyes to find her side of the bed empty, he pulled her pillow into his chest and wrapped his arms around it, surrounding himself with the smell of her. She’d call him a sap if she ever found out he did that, but he was a sap. For her.

  “Are you feeling better?” Cole asked with a bit of a laugh.

  “Yes,” she mewled, stretching her arms out over his shoulders like a satisfied cat.

  Cole leaned back a bit, in order to get a better look at her beautiful face, get a read on her. In the time they’d been together, he’d learned how to read her better than anyone else. There wasn’t anything she could hide from him, really, but sometimes he just needed to coax out whatever was bothering her.

  “Are you sure you’re not having any regrets? Second thoughts?”

  “About marrying you?”

  Cole shook his head, smiling as he pressed his lips to the inside of her arm. “No, about the wedding.” It’d been the thing he’d worried about when she told him that she wanted something small. She didn’t have any family to speak of, and she kept her circle of friends pared down to only a special few. She’d almost looked ashamed when she mentioned that if they had a traditional wedding, her side of the church would be empty. No matter, he told her then as he kissed the tips of her fingers. We won’t have sides, he’d said. Everyone will sit together, and they’ll like it.

  Still, she insisted she wanted something small. Cole was okay with that; he’d never been one for society weddings, and he just wanted Abby to be happy. If standing on his parents’ back porch overlooking the ocean was how she wanted to marry him, well…that’s exactly what they were going to do. Unless…

  “It’s not too late if you’ve changed your mind,” he continued, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. “If you want something more-”

  Abby reached up and pressed her finger to his lips. “I want you. On Saturday morning, on your parents’ porch, with the sound of the waves crashing behind us. I want you, and me, and our closest friends and your family on that porch with us. I want intimate and honest and us, Cole. That’s what I want.”

  Cole took a deep breath and nodded. “And if you wanted to go even smaller-”

  “Smaller would involve going to a Justice of the Peace or doing it at City Hall.”

  “Like I said,” he repeated, a sly grin on his face. “If you wanted to go smaller…”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Abby laughed as she shook her head. “I had a hard enough time convincing your mother to go the beach house route as it is. If I tried to go minuscule, she’d have a real problem. I mentioned City Hall in passing once, as a joke, and I think she actually had a case of the vapors.”

  Cole laughed, pulling her closer. “It’s not her wedding, it’s ours.”

  “But it’s our life, and she’s going to be a part of it. And I want her there. I want your father there. And your brother and Susie and Alexandra. I want Tristan there. Becca, too. Those are the only people who matter, okay?”

  “Okay,” Cole replied, bringing her left hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss above her engagement ring.

  Abby took a deep breath and looked at Cole for a disconcertingly long time before she finally said something. The anticipation was nearly too much.

  “There is something that’s bothering me, although you knew that. It’s just not what you thought it was. It’s not the wedding.”

  “What is it then?” Cole asked, feeling the electricity in his nerves fizzle out just a bit.

  “I want to talk to you about Pete,” she said, sounding a little shy.

  A rush of dread and anger flowed through him, practically making him shake. “No, Abby.”

  “Just-”

  “Your safety is non-negotiable.”

  Abby rolled her eyes, sliding off of Cole’s lap. He leaned forward and buttoned his pants as Abby sat down on the ottoman across from him, her hands clasped and resting on her leg. She felt a hundred miles away from him, when he’d been inside of her just a minute ago.

  “Is this about Josh?” she asked, cringing a little as she mentioned his name.

  Cole took a deep, calming breath. Josh Hamilton was a person Cole would rather forget even existed, but that was impossible for so many reasons. After Abby had opened her shop, he began stopping by, buying a few candies here and there, doing his best to freak Abby out. It wasn’t until his fourth visit that he actually spoke to her, issuing a very vague threat. She called Cole and told him right after it happened, and he’d had Pete stationed in the store by the time the sun went down that day.

  Cole tracked Josh down that night, finding him at some seedy bar, feeling up a waitress. He offered Josh a quick reminder that if he went near Abby again, he’d ruin Josh’s life. It wasn’t just an idle threat, and to make sure Josh knew he was serious, Cole paid a visit to Josh’s father, who knew just where to hit Josh where it hurt. If there was one thing that fueled an entitled brat’s lifestyle more than his ego, it was his trust fund. When Josh’s father threatened to cut him off, Josh stopped bothering Abby. But the threat of something happening to Abby wouldn’t stop bothering Cole.

  So Pete stayed.

  “It’s not about Josh,” Cole replied, lying a little.

  Abby knew. She always knew.

  “Okay, it’s not just about Josh.”

  “He threatened you, not me,” she said, cheeks tinged pink. “So what’s the point of having a bodyguard? You don’t have one.”

  “Because, Abby.” Cole leaned in, gathering her hands between his. “There are other people
like Josh in this world. People worse than Josh. People who will want to get close to you because of who you are, who you married. People—like Josh—who know that the only way to hurt me is to hurt you. And I can’t, I won’t leave you vulnerable like that. Can you understand why this is important to me? Knowing you’re safe?”

  He silently pleaded with her to stop fighting him on this, to let him have this one thing; just the simple knowledge that she was safe when he was away from her.

  “And if it would make me feel better to know that someone was with you, protecting you?”

  He swallowed hard, looking down at his feet before he squeezed her hand and met her gaze again. “Then I would make that happen.”

  Abby nodded minutely. “No Pete at the wedding?”

  Cole let out a small laugh. “No Pete at the wedding.”

  “And no Pete on the honeymoon?”

  Cole gently tugged on Abby’s hands, pulling her onto his lap again. She leaned in close to him, and he teased her earlobe between his teeth as he whispered in a low rumble, “I couldn’t do all the things I want to do to you if Pete was around.”

  His words sent a shiver coursing through her, and a smile broke out across his face.

  “We’re getting married in a day and a half,” Abby said, nuzzling into the crook of Cole’s neck.

  He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. A day and a half. The longest thirty-six hours of his life.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHEN COLE maneuvered his Mercedes into the driveway of the Kerrigan family’s summer home, Abby’s heart was hammering in her chest so hard that she was certain Cole could feel it in her fingertips. Their hands were wrapped together, resting just below the gearshift, and as if he somehow knew she needed reassurance, he gave hers a gentle squeeze.

  Abby had been here a handful of times; it was the place the family usually gathered outside of the city, when they weren’t making the trek to Cole’s parents’ home in upstate New York. Situated right outside of Norwalk on a private stretch of beach, the house was stately and huge, imposing along the shoreline, breathtaking with its pristine white siding, black shutters and red door.