Billionaire's Secret: The Complete Series
Page 17
Jay hadn’t given me any sort of indication. A dress? Casual? What? In the end I went for comfort, selecting a pair of black jeans and a burgundy sweater.
* * *
I found Jay in the breakfast room, dressed in a tailored gray suit and waiting for me with coffee and a croissant. Maybe I should have worn a dress.
“You look stunning,” he said, raking his eyes over my body.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the cup and filling myself with caffeine. “So what are our plans?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Drink up and let’s go.”
He took my hand and led me out the front door. A silver Rolls-Royce was waiting for us. A man held open the door for us and I climbed in and was hit with the strong scent of leather. Jay slid in after me and the car pulled away.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To your condo to get your passport.”
“Now?” Holy cow, my passport. I hoped I could find it. It’s not like I’d ever used it before, I’d probably shoved it in some box somewhere. I searched my memory, trying to remember where it was.
The car pulled up in front of my condo. I hopped out.
“Do you need any help?” Jay asked.
“No, it’s okay.”
He stayed in the car and I hurried upstairs. It felt strange when I put my key in the lock. I hadn’t been here in days. Not since the night of the date rape drug. Not since before Jay and I were back together.
I went through all my kitchen drawers with no luck. Perhaps it was in the bedroom. I riffled through my clothes drawers with no luck, but I found a shoebox in the bottom of my closet. Normally I put photographs and keepsakes in it. I dumped the contents onto my bed, sending bits and pieces everywhere. My passport landed on my pillow. I grabbed it and returned to the car.
“Here,” I said handing it to Jay.
“Great.” He took it and put it in his inside suit jacket.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”
“Nope.”
What on earth was going on?
He grasped my hand and squeezed it, but he looked out his window, away from me. We sat in silence holding hands while the car drove along. We turned off the highway and passed a sign, “Welcome to Chicago Midway Airport.”
I’d figured we were going somewhere with my passport. But I hadn’t expected it to be on a private jet. Where the hell was he taking me? For a day trip to New York?
* * *
The car stopped in front on a small jet, and the driver opened the car door.
“Thanks Tony,” Jay said to the driver.
He took my elbow and ushered me up the steps and into the jet.
Inside was all cream leather with shiny wood trim. Wide, plush leather seats divided by an aisle. Jay sat me down on one, hung his suit jacket in a wood cupboard and took the seat across the aisle.
“Buckle up,” he said, a dazzling smile on his face.
I was speechless and in a daze at what was happening. Was I really about to take off on a private jet? He still hadn’t told me where we were going. I wonder how long it would take to get there.
My body pressed back into the plush seat as the plane left the runway. Once we had leveled off, a woman appeared with a tray and coffee for each of us.
“Thanks,” I said as I took the drink from her.
She set Jay’s drink on the tray fixed to the wall beside him. He pushed a button, and the window blinds closed. He pressed another button and a large screen came down from the ceiling.
“I’ve arranged a little in-flight entertainment,” he said.
“Okay.” I was far too stunned to comprehend what was happening, let alone reply in a coherent way.
A movie started, one I instantly recognized as Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. I looked at Jay and smiled. He reached his hand out for mine, and we watched the moving holding hands, the aisle between us far too wide.
It’s one of my favorite romances, as much for the stunning scenery of Rome as for the amazing performance of Audrey Hepburn. And those stunning dresses. I could watch it over and over, dreaming of twirling around in one of her gowns.
The movie credits started to come up on the screen, but then cut out. It went directly into another film, To Catch a Thief with Grace Kelly and Cary Grant. Wow. What was going on?
“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” I looked at Jay.
“You’ll find out. If you don’t figure it out first.”
We watched the movie. Each time I saw it and watched Grace Kelly speeding along the winding roads of the French Riviera, I felt a pang of lose at her real-life death on those same roads.
When the movie finished, Jay pushed the buttons. The screen retracted into the ceiling and the window blinds opened. I looked out and saw water far below.
“Is that the ocean?” I asked, sitting up and perching on the edge of my seat.
“The Atlantic.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re looking at it. What do you think?” he laughed.
“Oh my God, how far are we going?”
“Far enough for a few more movies.”
The woman appeared with a tray of food.
“Hold on, are we going to Europe?”
Jay laughed and took a plate of food from her. A thick cut sandwich of roast chicken and tomatoes.
I placed my hand on the woman’s arm. “Are we going to Europe?”
“You’ll have to ask Mr. McAllister that.”
“We are, aren’t we?” I said to Jay, my eyes pleading for an answer.
“It’s a long flight, eat up.”
Shell-shocked, I sat back in my seat and took a bite of my sandwich but chewed without tasting. I’d never been to Europe. I’d never been outside the States, other than that time my father took us camping in Canada when I was little. This was crazy exciting. Though I felt a little odd, I didn’t bring my toothbrush. Or anything.
Chapter 2
“Cannes? We’re actually in Cannes?” I tried to keep my voice from squealing. And my feet from jumping up and down. My insides hopped with excitement. This certainly wasn’t what I’d expected when I woke up this morning.
Jay looked at me, a broad smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy my reaction a lot.
Another driver held a car door open for us, and we climbed into the back of yet another Rolls-Royce, this one black.
We pulled away, my eyes fixed out the window, scanning through the darkness for every little detail of France. France! I couldn’t wait to hear them speak. Except I couldn’t speak a word of French. I hoped Jay did.
We drove along the Mediterranean. Too exciting. I had to calm myself down, it was getting embarrassing. The car pulled up in front of a massive white art deco building. The diver got out and held the door open for me.
I looked walked back, to get a good look at the building. Martinez glowed in big letters across the top of the building. I turned around and looked out at the moonlight reflecting in the sea.
“This way, beautiful,” Jay said, motioning towards the door.
I followed him through the lobby and to a desk. He pulled a chair back for me and I sat. Jay sat in the seat beside me. A clerk typed in some details and handed Jay a key card. We walked past a grand staircase and into an elevator.
Our suite was enormous, three times the size of my condo. And decadent in a modern way. I ran through the sitting room to the window and looked out at our sea view. I couldn’t wait to see it in daylight.
“We should sleep,” Jay said, coming up and putting his arm around me.
“I’m too excited! There’s no way I can sleep. Plus it’s only,” I looked at my watch, “nine o’clock.”
“In Chicago. Here it’s three in the morning.”
“Holy cow.”
“Yes, and you’ll want to get up early and enjoy it.”
I flung my arms around him.
“Thank you for bringing me here.” I went up on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.
* * *
We ate breakfast in our suite’s dining room. Room service brought up a trolley full of fresh fruit and pastries. Never in my life had I ever tasted such an amazing croissant. I ate three.
“What are we going to see today?” Though I was groggy from the jet lag, my excitement had me raring to go.
“A surprise.”
“Another surprise?” I laughed.
“Get dressed, let’s go.” He stood and kissed the top of my head as he walked across the room.
My left eyebrow rose. “Let me guess, you’ve brought me some clothes to wear, I hope?”
“Your things are in the dressing room.”
I found the suitcase empty. Someone, I’m assuming not Jay, put away all the clothes. And there were lots of clothes to put away. I selected a tawny jersey dress, hoping it was appropriate for the weather.
I followed Jay through the hotel lobby and out the doors. A classic two-seater car was parked in front. Jay went over to it and opened the door for me.
“This car is so cute!”
“Do you recognize it?”
“It looks familiar,” I said. Though all old cars looked the same to me.
“It’s a Sunbeam Alpine.”
“A what?” I asked as I sat in it. Jay playfully tapped my shoulder.
“It’s the car from To Catch A Thief.”
My eyes widened and my breath caught. I couldn’t respond straight away. While I gathered my thoughts, I surveyed the wood grain interior. This was really happening. I was really sitting in a Sunbeam something or other in the French Riviera.
Jay shut my door and got into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and he whipped out on the busy street. I had to hold my head from snapping back since there weren’t any headrests. But I was quickly distracted by the beauty of the Mediterranean. I had to go dip my toes in it later.
Our little car sped along the windy roads, always with the Med on my right and mountains on my left.
The wind was too loud to have a conversation, instead I placed my hand on his knee and enjoyed the ride.
The scenery was incredible, even better in person than in the film. Stunning hilltop villages were framed against a clear blue sky. Cliffs on the side of the road plunged straight down into the sea.
We passed Nice, and I spotted a sign for Monaco. Princess Grace! I was a real-life Princess Grace, in an amazing car with an amazing man and speeding along the French Riviera towards Monaco.
We rounded a corner and Monaco came into view. Unlike the French towns, Monaco was covered in high rises. Not as pretty, but hey, it was freaking Monaco. Okay, I was calming down.
Instead of going into the city, Jay turned the car onto a smaller road that wound its way up the mountain. On a hairpin bend near the top, he pulled the car to the side of the road and shut off the engine. I sat in silence, staring at the stunning view of Monaco and the Med below.
Jay got out of the car and took a huge picnic basket out of the trunk. The penny dropped.
“This is the Cary Grant and Grace Kelly picnic spot, isn’t it?” I said.
A broad smile spread out across Jay’s face. “You’re getting it.”
My cheeks flushed. He had gone to all this trouble to recreate one of my favorite movies, and I was barely clueing into the fact. I was too excited by being in Europe. The movie scene re-creation was almost too much to comprehend.
“Jay, this is unbelievable.”
“Abbie, I would do anything for you. Anything.” His fingers brushed down my arm and came to a rest on my hand.
I took hold of his hand and brought it to my face, inhaling his scent as I kissed his fingers. He tugged my hand and pulled me into him. He held my head against his chest as we looked out at the view.
Jay released me and laid out a checkered picnic blanket and opened a half bottle of Champagne. He handed me a flute, and I sipped it while watching the city far below. He spread out food from the basket. Pâté. Sausages. Cheese. More cheese. Grapes. My body didn’t know what time of day it was or what meal it was having. Starved, I polished off an impressive amount of food.
I leaned my body against his, my eyes shifting between the stunning scenery and his gorgeous face. Cary Grant couldn’t hold a candle to Jay.
“This is surreal. I cannot believe I’m here.”
“Better get used to it, beautiful. This is the life I’m going to give you.”
I shook my head, trying to comprehend his words.
“Thank you.”
“You never have to thank me for anything. I want to share all of this with you. When you left me, my life was empty. I need you, Abbie. I never plan to lose you again.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks to hold back tears and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I’ll never leave you.”
“Good, because I plan to bring you back here when you’re eighty.”
Jay put his arm around me and pulled me tight, my back to his chest. I clasped his arm, never wanting it to leave me. We stayed like that, drinking our glasses of Champagne and soaking up the sunlight.
He slid his arm along my leg and up my side, his fingers squeezing me as he went. I wanted nothing more than him to take me right here, in the To Catch A Thief location, but it was too busy with cars.
Our picnic finished, we stood and gathered the bits back into the basket. Jay drew me into him and wrapped his arms around me. I put my arms around his waist, never wanting him to leave.
“I hope you enjoyed your picnic,” he said looking down at me.
My eyes searched his face, not knowing how to thank him. There were no words to convey the last twenty-four hours of my life. A private jet. The French Riviera. A movie site picnic. Him.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice a mere whisper.
“Stop thanking me. I should be thanking you, for being here with me.”
“But…”
“There is no but. Nothing in the world is more important than making you happy.”
I tilted my head toward him, longing for his lips.
Jay kissed me, a long, lingering kiss that set my insides alight. I burrowed myself closer into him, huddling my shoulders up into his body. He pulled his arms from me. Cupped my cheeks in his palms and he devoured me.
I wanted more of him but I was conscious of where we were. At a picnic site at the side of a mountain road.
He slid my feet out from under me, cradling my back as he laid us down on the picnic blanket. Our mouths locked together, his hand found my knee and made its way up my leg to the hem of my skirt. He pushed past, finding its way to the inside of my thigh until it reached my panties.
I held my breath, and his hand shoved aside my panties. His fingers made contact with my mound, flicking their way across my slit.
I broke the kiss and gasped.
“Not here, it’s too busy.”
“It’s fine, no one’s stopping. They’re driving past, looking at the road and not us.” He pushed himself into me, into the ground, as if to solidify his words.
He kissed my neck and collarbone, at the same time his fingers entered me. They pressed into me, scissoring out against my walls. Each second, my pussy became wetter and my body tingled more.
My pulse raced in excitement. Jay pulled his hand away, taking my panties with it. He rolled on top of me, and I pulled the dress up to my hips so I could open my legs to let him in between.
I gripped his biceps through his shirt, enjoying the sensation of them harden and relax as he worked his hands over me. He fumbled with his pants and rolled tight against me, his tip at my opening.
I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to me, to kiss him. With his lips locked on mine, he hollowed his back and pushed his cock into me, sending masses of tingles down my legs and arms.
We moved slowly, him kissing me. Every once in a while I would remember where I was, and glance out at Monaco below us.<
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His pace quickened, and he pulled his lips away. My body climbed higher and higher with each of his thrusts, until it was screaming. Another thrust and the screaming inside my body turned into a scream outside my body, as a vocal orgasm ripped through me.
Jay groaned and released his cum into me and his cock throbbed against my pussy walls.
As the orgasmic waves faded, I regained my consciousness of our public location.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” I said.
“Why, didn’t you enjoy it?”
I squeezed his ass cheeks. “Oh yes.” I didn’t get the rest of my sentence out, his lips were on mine, kissing me once more.
He broke the kiss and rolled off me. I pulled my panties up, tight against me, glad he hadn’t ripped them this time.
“Let’s go back to Cannes, I have some work to do before dinner.”
“Work.” That sucks. “What am I going to do?”
“Go walk around the town. It’s only little, you won’t get lost.”
“Can’t you do it tomorrow?” I rested my hands on his arms, pleading with him.
“I have to take this meeting. I should really be there, in Chicago, but you’re more important. It’s the best I can do.”
I nodded, letting his words sink in. He put me above his company. I trembled at the idea.
We loaded up the car and drove back along the route hugging the Mediterranean.
“Where are you taking me tomorrow?” I asked, half joking.
“St Tropez.”
St Tropez. Right. I should have guessed.
Part Three
Exposing Jay
Chapter 1
“Dammit!” I’d caught my leg on the door as I pushed through the crowd and snagged my nylons. Now there was a massive run up the side of my leg, a go-fast racing stripe.
Of course something like this would happen on my first day at CQ Francis. Oh well, nothing I could do about it.