My Wicked Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 6)

by Serenity Woods

  But to go with a girl who was hot for you… Who was up for anything… Who didn’t care if I smudged her makeup or mussed up her hair… Who wasn’t embarrassed about the smells and sounds of sex… Who wasn’t a lights out, missionary position, silent kind of gal all the time…

  Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna think about it. Anyway, I’ve been burned before. I assumed because Samantha was beautiful and interested in me that sex would be great. It’s possible that Clio’s all talk.

  She looks up at me then and gives me a sexy wink. I stifle a groan. There’s no way she’s all talk. I just know she’s hot stuff under the duvet.

  The flight attendant returns to her seat for take-off, and I open my iPad. I’m not going to think about it. I’m working on some coding for a new app, and I’m going to think about numbers and symbols until my brain stops going into meltdown.

  But Clio’s not in the mood for sitting quietly, it seems. After we’ve taken off, she decides to get something out of her flight bag, struggles to get it open, and promptly tips half the contents of the bag onto the floor. Trying not to laugh, I put my iPad down and help her pick them up. She turns to retrieve a pen that’s rolled beneath the seat in front of me, the neck of her T-shirt gapes, and she promptly gives me an eyeful of her amazing breasts, encased in a gorgeous red lacy bra.

  I tear my gaze away, blinking as if I’ve just looked into the sun. Holy fuck. I think my head’s going to explode.

  “There. Sorry.” She sits back, stuffing everything into her bag. “I’m so clumsy.”

  “No harm done.” I pull my iPad back onto my lap. I’m like a horny sixteen-year-old. I really need to get a grip.

  She opens her own tablet, then gives a long sigh. “I can’t believe I don’t have to do any more studying. I sent off my last assignment today. It’s not really sunk in yet.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that,” I say, pleased for her. “Congratulations.”

  “It’s so weird. Christ, it’s been a long journey. Sometimes I didn’t think I’d ever get there. But I was determined. Especially when Leon told me he didn’t think I’d be able to last the course.”

  I frown, surprised at her brother. “Wow, that’s harsh.”

  “Oh, he always does that to me to goad me into doing something. He knows I’m contrary and I’ll do it just to prove him wrong. And I know it too. It’s a little game we play. Him, Stefan, and Hal are determined to make me into a ‘proper person’.” She puts air quotes around the phrase. “I play along and pretend I don’t want to be one just to irritate them.”

  I chuckle. “I bet you drive Leon insane.”

  “I sincerely hope so.” She grins. “So… what are we going to do when we get to Queenstown?”

  “Well it’ll be around 9:45 before we get to the hotel.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re in bed by ten,” she scoffs. “I’m never in bed before midnight.”

  “Out partying?”

  “Maybe on a Friday or Saturday. The rest of the week, I usually study for a few hours in the evening, then eat ice cream in front of the TV until I crash out.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’m a night owl too.” That was always another problem with me and Samantha—she was an early riser, and was often in bed by ten. We really were like ships that passed in the night.

  “We could go into the town,” I suggest. “Maybe grab a drink and some food in one of the bars on the waterfront. It’s nice down there at night.”

  “Ooh, yeah, that sounds fun. Let’s do that.”

  “It’s a date.” As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t. But she just laughs and says, “Yeah, it’s a date,” and turns her attention to her tablet.

  I pretend to study the document on my iPad, but now I’m thinking about the fact that we’re staying in the same suite. Man, that was a dumb idea. Clio’s going to be sleeping in the next room, and I’m guessing she’s either going to be wearing nothing or some sexy little T-shirt nightie that just skims her butt. And I’m going to have to lie on the sofa and torture myself with thoughts of sliding into bed next to her and finding delight in her soft body.

  If I make it to Dunedin without driving myself seriously insane, it’s going to be a miracle.

  Chapter Seven

  Clio

  We land at Queenstown around 9:15 p.m. The sun has set and, as the plane descends, I can see the town glowing in the darkness.

  “Have you ever been here?” Ryan asks me.

  “No,” I admit. “I’ve actually only been to the South Island twice. Once to Nelson on holiday, and once to Christchurch for a conference. I’ve heard it’s amazing, though.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here a few times in winter for skiing. It’ll be nice, though, to be here when it’s not snowing. It’s such a pretty town.”

  The plane bumps down, and travels along the runway to the airport.

  “I’m quite excited actually,” I tell him. “This whole weekend is such an adventure, especially now we’re going to be driving through Otago.” The region has snow-capped mountains and glacial lakes, and I’m sure the scenery is going to be breathtaking.

  It’s not the only reason I feel excited, though. I have to admit that a large percentage of my current enthusiasm is due to looking forward to being with Ryan.

  “I can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long and yet never really got to know one another well,” I tell him as we start getting ready to depart.

  “I know, I was thinking the same thing,” he says. “We’ve been like Mercury and Saturn, existing in the same solar system but never coming into contact with one another.”

  “I thought you were going to make a comment about Uranus then,” I reply. “I was getting ready to blush.”

  He meets my gaze. His eyes are filled with amusement, and a little frustration. “Stop it,” he scolds. “I’m having enough trouble trying to keep my mind on track.”

  Ooh, so he’s tempted?

  Unfortunately, it’s time to disembark, so I’m not able to quiz him further. My mind races, though, as we leave the plane and head to the taxi rank. We find the next available one, get in, and Ryan instructs the driver to head to Sutton’s Hotel on the waterfront.

  The taxi pulls away and we settle back. Only then do I look across at Ryan.

  “So what track is your mind on right now?” I murmur, so the taxi driver can’t hear.

  Ryan looks across at me, and his lips curve up. “I don’t really think you have to ask.”

  “I have no idea. You need to explain it to me. In great detail.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just surveys me, his lids sliding to half-mast.

  “So why are you folks down in Queenstown?” the driver asks. “Business?”

  I sigh. “We’re off to a wedding in Dunedin,” I reply, and go on to tell him about the issues we’ve run into on the way. Ryan joins in, and we continue chatting to the driver until he pulls up outside Sutton’s. Ryan pays him, and we get out and go into the hotel.

  It’s right on the waterfront, and I’m sure it’s going to have a wonderful view across Lake Wakatipu in the morning. Now, it’s sheathed in darkness, but the whole of the waterfront is busy on this Friday night, the lights from the bars and restaurants reflected in the water. It’s cooler than I’m used to—it’s not yet summer, and we’re a lot further south than the Bay of Islands. My jacket’s in my bag, though, so I shiver a little as we go up to Reception and ask to check in.

  Or maybe it’s the thought of sharing a room with Ryan that’s sending tremors through me. I know he likes me. And I know he’s been thinking about this, too. Part of me is aware I shouldn’t be tempting him. We’re sort of related, we work at the same place, he’s eight years older than me, neither of us wants a relationship, we’re both recovering from previous hurts, and Leon will murder us in our beds if we sleep together. That’s plenty of reasons not to.

  But there are several very good reasons to do it. I finished my last assignment today. I want to celebrate and enjoy these last f
ew days of freedom before I Knuckle Down and commit to being a Grown Up.

  But most importantly, I want him. I’m in the mood for sex. It’s been a while for me, and it’s obviously been a while for him, too, and I don’t see any reason we can’t have some fun together tonight and then go back to being friends tomorrow. I’m pretty sure he’s going to be great in bed. The fact that he has a high sex drive, and a good sense of humor, is usually a sign. So why shouldn’t we? Nobody need ever know. And it’s nobody else’s business.

  We sign the forms, take the key cards, head to the elevators, and wait for one to arrive. When the doors slide open, we go inside, and Ryan presses the button for our floor.

  I stand on one side, and he stands on the other. There’s nobody else in the carriage.

  I fix my gaze on his, and let my lips curve up a little.

  “No…” he says, drawing out the word as if he’s telling a toddler she can’t have ice cream.

  I don’t say anything. I slide my hands behind my back and lean against the wall, knowing I look good in this red T-shirt, and that it clings to my breasts.

  To his credit, he doesn’t eye-dip me. But his lips curve up as if he’s trying very hard not to.

  “You’re like a siren,” he says softly. “Drawing me toward the rocks.”

  “I have a beautiful voice, though.”

  He gives a short laugh. “Yeah.”

  The elevator pings and the doors slide open. We pull our cases out, and walk along the corridor to the suite, where Ryan swipes his key card to let us in.

  We’re in a large living room, with what I’m sure will be a magnificent view across Lake Wakatipu and the Remarkables range of mountains in the morning. Tonight, all I can see are the twinkling lights of Queenstown, and the reflections of myself and Ryan, as we walk into the room and look around.

  There’s a large, widescreen TV, a table and chairs by the window, and a small kitchenette. Everything’s decorated in cream and navy blue. I stick my head in the bathroom and note with pleasure that there’s a bath as well as a shower cabinet. The door to the bedroom is open, and I can see the king-size bed, with its smart navy coverlet.

  “Nice,” Ryan says, standing his case in the corner, next to the sofa. It’s as if he’s marking his spot, stating clearly to me that here’s where he’ll be sleeping.

  We’ll see.

  “Still want to go out?” he asks.

  “Sure. I might take five to change, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” He walks over to the window, looking out at the town.

  I bite my lip, take my case, go into the bedroom, and close the door.

  What am I doing? Maybe I’m being ultra-stupid, trying to seduce him. I’m assuming he’s going to give in, but what if, when it comes to it, he sticks to his guns and turns me down? That’d be embarrassing.

  Knowing something might be embarrassing has never stopped me in the past, though. I’ll have to play it by ear. If we get nearer the time and he’s still protesting, maybe I’ll have to just accept my powers of seduction aren’t as good as I think they are, and back off.

  Sighing, I place my case on the rack near the wardrobe, open it, and take out my black jacket, a clean pair of jeans, and a pretty light-blue blouse I rather like. I go out to the bathroom, freshen up, then return to the bedroom. Ryan’s unzipping his own case now, possibly to change his top. I resist the urge to peek out and see him with his shirt off, and get changed.

  The blouse looks nice. The top two buttons are open. I undo another one and study myself in the mirror. Do it up again. Then curse at myself and undo it a final time. Screw it—I’m hardly revealing my boobs, only a fraction of cleavage.

  By the time I go out again, he’s changed into a casual black shirt, and he’s shrugging on a gray jacket. “Ready?” he says, picking up his wallet and phone.

  I collect my purse. “Good to go.”

  “You look nice,” he comments as we leave the room and he pulls the door shut.

  “Thank you. You too.” Actually, he looks gorgeous. He’s put on some body spray, I think, because he smells nice. I wish I could nuzzle up to him and sniff him, slip my hands beneath his shirt onto his belly, and slide them up onto his ribs. But I just meekly follow him along the corridor to the elevator. This time, there are other people in the carriage, so we descend silently to the ground floor, exit the elevator, and make our way out of the building.

  We head toward the waterfront, walking briskly in the cool evening air. The town’s busy, presumably because of the upcoming jazz festival, and the pubs and restaurants are overflowing, full of people eating and drinking, laughing and talking to friends.

  “There’s a quieter place around the corner,” Ryan says, gesturing to our left, and we cross the paved pedestrian area and turn up another road. He stops outside The Golden Kiwi, which doesn’t actually look much quieter, and we push our way inside through the crowd.

  “Wow,” he says as we approach the bar, “it really is busy tonight.”

  “I like it. It’s a great atmosphere.” I nod as he gestures to the menu lying on the bar, and he picks it up and opens it.

  We have to stand close together because it’s so busy. I can smell his body spray again. His jaw is only inches away from my mouth as he bends to look at the menu. I could kiss it if I were to lift onto my tiptoes.

  “How about the seafood platter?” he suggests. “And a bowl of wedges?”

  “Mm, okay.” I’m not really listening. I feel a little lightheaded. It’s probably because I haven’t eaten for a few hours. I’m sure it’s nothing to do with the fact that my pulse is racing and my mouth has gone dry.

  He asks what I’d like to drink, and I say a bottle of Isaac’s Cider, and he orders a Steinlager. We place an order for the food and get a number, and take it outside, finding a recently vacated table under a heater, overlooking the lake.

  “I’m glad I brought my jacket,” I tell him, thankful for the heater above us. “It’s so much colder down here.”

  “Yeah, you don’t realize how much closer we are to the equator in the bay,” he replies.

  “Did you come here with Samantha?”

  He nods. “A few times. She has a cousin who lives in Arrowtown not far from here, and she and her husband would meet us here.”

  “Sounds very sociable.”

  He pulls a face. “I didn’t like her cousin. She was also a lawyer. Although she and Samantha professed to be good friends, it was as if beneath the surface they were always trying to prove to each other that they were better, you know?”

  “Yeah. How awkward.”

  “And her husband was a dick.”

  I laugh. “In what way?”

  “Just unpleasant. He regularly called me a nerd because I have a degree in computer science.”

  “He has a point.”

  “I know, but it still irritated me.”

  I chuckle. “Do you still socialize a lot? Or do you miss being part of a couple?”

  “Oh, I don’t go out half as much as I used to. When I first moved to the bay, I’d go for a beer with Hal and the others, but of course they’re all settling down now. Soon they’ll all have kids. Which is great, but it makes you feel like a fifth wheel if you are single.”

  “Tell me about it. Luckily, I have a few single friends not connected to the Kings. We go out sometimes. Every few months we go to Auckland and have a couple of nights in the city.”

  “Party animal?” He grins and swigs his beer.

  “Eh, not so much now. I went out a lot when I started at college but then the work got harder and we started placements, and now there’s just no time.” I lean back and blow out a long breath. “It’s been a long, hard road. I don’t mean to sound self-pitying. I know most careers take a lot of training and hard work. But sometimes I do wonder…”

  I stop talking. I don’t want to voice the thought that’s in my head. I have a fear that if I put words to it, it somehow makes it real.

  Ryan’s eye
s are sharp, and I look away. It’s too beautiful an evening to think about that sort of thing. “So,” I say to him, deliberately adopting a jaunty tone. “Let’s talk about sex.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ryan

  I study Clio thoughtfully. Her cheeky suggestion isn’t enough to distract me from the fact that for a moment she was going to say something about her job, but she obviously changed her mind.

  “What do you wonder?” I ask her, referring to her half question.

  She studies her bottle of cider and picks at the label. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You wonder if it’s been worth it?”

  She doesn’t say anything, and I know I’ve guessed right.

  “It must be difficult,” I say carefully, “training in a career that takes so long to qualify. I would think it’s natural to get near the end and think you’ve had enough.”

  “That’s partly it.”

  “So what’s the other part?”

  She shrugs.

  “Can’t you talk to me about it?” I ask her softly. “I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

  “I don’t want you to think badly of me,” she whispers.

  That surprises me. I didn’t think Clio cared what anyone thought of her.

  “Why would I think badly of you?”

  She turns her bottle in her fingers. “It’s just… I suppose I became a vet because I wanted to please everyone.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Seriously?”

  “That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it,” she adds. “I wouldn’t have stuck it for five years if I didn’t. I love working with animals. I always have, ever since I volunteered at the local SPCA shelter when I was a teen. I used to love listening to Hal and Izzy and Stefan talking about what they got up to at veterinary college—I don’t remember ever wanting to be anything else.”

  “So what’s gone wrong?”