Alpha Billionaire

by Deborah Garland

  Grabbing her purse, Cass said, “Good luck with her. Let’s see how she feels a year from now when you tell her you’re coming back on this cruise.”

  “I’m not coming back.” He knew that for sure, beyond anything else.

  A grin formed on Cass’s pretty mouth. “I guess that will make me the alpha next year.”

  If he had to hand the mantle over to anyone, he was proud to give it to her. The human part of Tristan wanted to suggest she try falling in love. It felt fucking fantastic. Better than anything he’d ever experienced on this cruise.

  Cass would have to figure that out on her own. “This is goodbye, Tristan Hart. Good luck.”

  “Goodbye, Cassandra,” he said, wondering what her last name was, but he didn’t need it. Did he?

  When the cabin door clicked shut, he sighed with relief.

  Tristan returned to his balcony and leaned across the metal sling chair to peek into Laney’s veranda. He choked on a small laugh. Until the cruise, he’d always called them mesh chairs. Laney had taught him so much on this trip.

  He frowned, not seeing her. Her entire cabin was dark. Before he could think if she’d gone to sleep, a torrent of lights poured down, startling him. The harsh fluorescent bath, bright and shinning almost blinded him. The Verrazano Bridge! Then it hit him, where she’d be. The upper deck! The spot he’d told her she should watch the lights. She had to be there.

  When warm tears of relief squeaked out of his eyes, he pressed his wrist against his nose. Goddamn it. Cass’s scent now clung to his sleeve, extinguishing Laney’s fresh perfume. He yanked the shirt out of his pants and ripped it open. The buttons sprayed like shrapnel in many directions. He held the fabric over the water and dropped it.

  Without bothering to find a fresh shirt, he jerked his cabin door open then raced through the hallway. With his head down, he climbed the exterior metal stairs to the top deck. As if not meeting anyone’s eyes would stop him from being noticed. Especially shirtless.

  Looking for Laney, he let the sounds of churning waves manufactured by the ship’s engines calm him. So mechanical. No emotion. He had enough emotion for one week. But this week, his life had changed.

  The ship glided into the smooth waters of Upper New York Bay. The lights of Brooklyn looked to be dimming and the stars above were ready to say goodnight. The start of a new day would bring the sun and maybe some hope. Oh, how the sun had looked this week in Laney’s hair, setting the dark strands gleaming.

  The bridge twinkled far behind them now, but fate rewarded him anyway. Laney sat on a bench near the railing. He’d know her body, her silhouette, anywhere. He’d find her if he’d gone blind. Tristan had been blind long enough.

  He hated that he missed seeing the bridge with her. It was one of the many things he planned to make up for if she gave him a chance. He’d buy a yacht tomorrow and hire a captain to sail them under every bridge in Manhattan every night, while he made love to her. Every night. He also had a jet to fly around the city skyline if she so desired. Anything. She could have anything and everything.

  Tristan’s throat geared up to call out to her, except Jonathan appeared from another staircase and stumbled toward her.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Laney

  LANEY SAT ON A PROMENADE bench, letting the lights of lower Manhattan distract her from the heartache of Tristan not showing up.

  “Who do you think you are?” She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  Turning around, she watched in horror as her boss steamed toward her, looking pissed-the-fuck off. His shirt was still open and untucked. His hair was a mess.

  She detected the sour odor of his breath from hard alcohol. She’d only seen him shitfaced one other time at a Christmas party. It’d been a pretty ugly scene. Brock had probably given him a talkin-to because Jonathan had clutched a soda water at every other event since.

  This wasn’t a work-related event, though. Right?

  She didn’t bother answering his rude question. Instead, she stood and cringed at her surroundings, a long stretch of nothing, no place to duck. The idiot would protect his nuts this time.

  If she wanted to run her own company one day, she had to learn how to handle jerks. In the textile world, she’d met plenty of slick salesmen and saucy line managers in the mills.

  “How was Cass?” she asked Jonathan to distract him, hit him where it would probably hurt.

  “She told me to go to hell,” Jonathan spit out. “You looked for Tris after you left me? Even though I told you she was with him? What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Laney blurted, using the bench between them as a shield. “Jonathan, are you crazy? You’ve already tried to assault me. And you’re my boss.”

  “Not for long,” he slurred, drunk and pissed.

  She straightened. “You’d be an idiot to fire me considering how much money I make you.”

  He sloppily attempted to pommel horse over the bench, only he was so drunk, his foot caught and his face slammed into the wooden seat. Laney used it as her chance to run, but his hand, powered by drunken angry-man strength grabbed her wrist.

  The grip stung painfully, but his arm twisted as he attempted to right himself. It flashed so quickly in her mind: Reverse Triangle. If she jacked her hand up, his arm would swivel in the socket and hopefully, the quick shock of pain would make him let go of her hand.

  She stomped her right foot back and with new oblique muscles, she twisted, yanking both their arms up.

  Jonathan screamed in agony, releasing her wrist. Twisting herself back, she prepared to run. Only he hopped up, landed in front of her, and grabbed her shoulders, hard.

  Uh-oh.

  “Take your fucking hands off her right now!” Tristan’s deep voice growled as he barreled toward them with fists drawn. Tristan. Really Tristan. No broom. No dirty water. All him. There...for her. He’d come to the see the bridge after all. “Let go of her, or you’re gonna taste saltwater, I promise you. I have enough money to pay off the right people to make it look like an accident.”

  “It’s okay, Tris,” Jonathan said smoothly. “This is work-related shit. Nothing to do with you.” He licked his lips giving Tristan’s significant height a jealous once-over.

  Tristan’s lips snarled. “Attacking your employee is work shit?”

  “Laney and me just had a misunderstanding, right, Laney? Tell him.” He shook her.

  She breathed heavily keeping her glare focused, her feet planted, ready to run as soon as she was free.

  “Bitch,” Jonathan cursed.

  “Let her go and get out of my sight,” Tristan growled.

  Jonathan roughly released her, sending her body into a six-foot-four-inch frame of strong and safe muscles. “You can have this little cock-tease.”

  Tristan lunged for Jonathan, his face red and the veins in his neck bulging, like he wanted to tear her boss apart with his bare hands. Laney stopped him, though.

  “Don’t, please. He’s not worth it,” she whispered, loving how his hand snaked around her waist. She didn’t want Tristan to land in that cruise-ship jail. Or worse, get handed over to the NYPD. He didn’t need a record because of her.

  Jonathan ran a hand through his flattened hair and wandered away, stopping to glance in a reflective window. The way he looked at himself, suggested who Jonathan cared about the most. He flicked his head back and opened the steel door to flee down a staircase.

  A moment passed until she realized she was still in Tristan’s arms. He’d come looking for her, after all. In this spot. The spot for the bridge, which he missed because he was with Cass.

  “Are you okay?” Tristan cupped her cheek, turning it side to side.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. He didn’t touch me.” She cleared her throat. “I mean... Nothing happened. I just...kissed him.”

  He stiffened. “It’s okay. I hate it, but...”

  “It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. No means no. And stop means s
top.”

  She nodded, understanding the gravity of those words better now than ever before. “I felt nothing,” Laney whispered, embarrassed how she’d wasted so much time hyping Jonathan up in her mind only to have her hopes land in a pile of dog crap.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Tristan’s golden eyes sparkled as his gaze raked over her. “I’m sorry about last night. I tried to apologize this morning.”

  “I know.” She took a breath. “This place is just...”

  “It’s not real,” he answered for her.

  If it weren’t for this devil cruise, though, Laney would still be filled with fantastical musings about Jonathan. Tristan was another fantasy. She couldn’t run from one delusion to the next. “Thank you for standing up to him. I thought I could handle him myself.”

  “There aren’t many women who can talk their way around a two-hundred-pound drunk asshole who’s ready to pounce.”

  “You’re right.” She stepped back. “Again.”

  “Laney, I don’t want to be right. I want to be...” He stroked her hair delicately. “You’re strong and you’re confident. I believe you can handle yourself. I’m gonna have to believe you can handle yourself.”

  Laney grabbed the arm of the bench to sit, finally coming to grips that she survived an attempted assault. Twice. “Why do you need to believe that?”

  “You don’t know?” He sat next to her. “Christ, you’re trembling. Enough talking about this. Come back to my cabin.” When she wrenched away, he reached gently for her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. His knuckles felt cool against her cheek which she could have sworn had been lit on fire. “Not for...sex. I just want to hold you. Make sure you feel safe.”

  She felt safe with Tristan. Her body, though, not necessarily her heart. “I’ll have to do something about him when I get back to the office,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t take losing you so easily. If that’s worth anything.” He continued stroking. “I’d take dozens of punches if I were fighting for you.”

  “For three years I fantasized about a man I knew nothing about.” She took a deep breath. “I was so distracted by the outside wrapping, that I didn’t notice...” Her brain caught up with her fingers. “Why are you shirtless?” She looked around, wondering why a flock of women hadn’t followed him.

  “My shirt reeked of Cass and I wouldn’t touch you smelling like her.”

  She swallowed. “You were with her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Almost. But no. I couldn’t.”

  They landed in the same boat. On this ship. They’d marched up that gangplank with clear simple goals. When their bounties landed in their grasps, however, they’d both flinched. Her head was too fuzzy to ask why. Exhaustion overtook her, her body slacking into Tristan’s arms.

  “Hang on. I got you,” he said, setting her head under his jaw.

  But do I have you?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Tristan

  A screeching siren jolted Tristan awake in his bed. Hell, the ship had docked at the pier. It was time to disembark. He hadn’t even packed the rest of his shit!

  “Laney, honey. We’re home,” he said, scrubbing his hands across his face, the stubble rough against his fingers. Yeah, no time to shave. “Laney?” He turned a burning eye to the pillow next to him, only to see that same dent where her head had been. “Laney!” he called out, thinking she might be in the bathroom.

  He peeled away from the bed. No. Not in the bathroom. She was...gone.

  The night before they’d both passed out. He’d only kissed her forehead until a gentle adorable snore sawed in her throat. He’d not woken up at all in the few short hours.

  Laney had apparently. And she left. The living room felt ice cold. They were back in New York. His phone read twenty degrees, typical for late December. He’d not even put on sleep pants, just collapsed in his Prada trousers, still shirtless. After swiping his key card from the credenza next to the door, he burst out into the passageway.

  A stopper held Laney’s cabin door open. He pushed it wide and cringed. She and Nikki had left. Laney left without saying goodbye. He inspected his phone for a text, a call, anything.

  Nothing.

  “Oh yeah?” He shoved his phone in his pocket and trudged back to his cabin. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

  With a fresh shirt on, he grabbed his phone and his wallet. He crammed Luke’s homework, his laptop, and anything else he was able to scoop up in one haul into his bag. He roughly zipped it up and fled the cabin, knowing he’d never be back. On this ship. On this cruise. With those...devils.

  He was done with this. He found his angel.

  With his Louis Vuitton duffle bag barely closed and his dirty expensive shirts hanging out the side, Tristan used his VIP status to avoid the crazy line and get the hell off the ship. All week long he could have had any table he wanted, any barstool, any lounge chair. And any woman. All that got blown apart because of Laney. He’d checked that pretentious asshole at the gangplank to experience the cruise with her. On her level. At her speed. It was the best cruise he’d ever had. Because of her.

  Now she was trying to leave him.

  No way.

  In the parking lot adjacent to the boarding area, he feverishly searched for Laney. In a sea of thousands, it should have been hard for an ordinary man to find an ordinary woman.

  Right now, he was a crazed lunatic and Laney Hathaway was never an ordinary woman. She stood out like a beacon. His body sensed her, mostly because he was craving her so badly.

  On the walkway to the public transportation hub, he spotted the gleaming shine of her hair dangling down her back. She wore a Kelly-green swing coat and behind her, she dragged that bright red suitcase. He got thrust back to the day he boarded the ship when he watched her march up the gangplank. Those colors, red, green, the sable of her hair, her yellow dress. She reminded him of a rainbow cookie. His favorite.

  “Laney!” he shouted, not caring who else heard or how desperate he sounded.

  Heads turned, just not Laney’s. She stopped, though, and her shoulders tensed up. Pushing through the throngs of people, Tristan madly texted his driver to get his Town Car over to the regular lot instead of the VIP pickup area.

  Texting and running didn’t mix and next, he was down. Landing with a hard thud, he lost his phone as it flew off and out of his reach, skidding across the asphalt.

  In a bizarre twisty déjà vu, Laney was there, lifting him up. “Tristan, what are you doing? Where is your coat?” she asked about his twelve-hundred-dollar cashmere winter duster. Some housekeeper just got as a fantastic tip. “You’re going to get sick.”

  “I’m already sick. You screwed with my head the second I got here.” When she dropped his arm, he clarified, “In a good way.”

  “I’m not looking to change anyone.”

  “Too late.” He scoffed. “Where are you going? Come home with me.”

  She took a breath. “I can’t go home with you, Tristan. I... I need time to figure things out. Don’t you?”

  “No,” he answered flatly.

  She shook her head. “You got on this cruise as one person and you said I ripped that away from you. Now we’re back in our real lives and you need to be yet someone else.”

  “I was Tris for five minutes walking on the ship. You extinguished him. All week, I was me. Me, Laney. This is me.” Even with his hair swooped up in all different directions and his shirt buttoned all wonky.

  “I didn’t come here to fall in love,” she said, crossing her arms. “With anyone. I’m not... I have to figure out my career. I need a plan.”

  “You gave me a plan. And you’re part of it.” He stormed up to her. “And I’m not just talking about the hotel.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  He wiped his brow. “You better start accepting how I feel about you and that I want to be with you.”

  “I’m not feeling very confident in my choices, right now, Tristan.” She pushe
d the hair out of her face, showing him red blotches around her eyes. Hell, she’d been crying. “In one week, I spent more time talking to you than Jonathan in three years. I’m a wreck thinking about the amount of time I wasted.”

  “I’m not asking you for forever, Laney. And I’m not offering. I’m asking that we try to find our way there. It may not have been a fantastic start, but we found each other.” He reached for her. “I love you, Laney.”

  “That’s unfair, Tristan.” The adorable look of shock on her face made him want her even more.

  “Here’s your chance to take what you want. So long as I’m what you want. We may have gone on that cruise chasing the wrong thing. I just know I want you. Only, you. I want to possess you. In every way. Make you mine.”

  “How can you love someone you hardly know?”

  “Because I do know you. I watched you this whole week. You’re an amazing person. Kind, warm, funny, and sweet. You made me feel like a god this week. I’ve gotten on that ship every year, thinking I was one. You were the only woman who made me feel that way. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with anyone else this week, Laney. Your kiss the first night...that did me in. I was yours from that moment. I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t believe love could come on so quick and strong, either. That’s why I couldn’t let you go all week. I was trying to prove myself wrong. But I figured it out. Now I know. You’re it.” When she tilted her chin into a small nod, he said, “Just trust me, please.” He didn’t care if he sounded pathetic. If he expected Laney to show her dark side, he needed to set the example of what that looked like.

  “That’s so amazing of you, but I can’t run from one dream to the next.”

  “I’m a dream?” He desperately wanted to lighten the mood.

  “Please give me time. Please.”

  “Laney, I ordered an Uber for us,” Nikki said softly, giving him sorrowful eyes.

  Her world had come calling for her.

  Laney was right. He needed to completely shut down that side of him. Bury Tris forever. With that metal monster behind him, the place he became a sex fiend, it was hard to ask her to forget all his baggage.