In Bed With the Billionaire
Page 2
And somehow she’d expected the stunningly handsome young man of the file photos to have changed over the years. For him to have become bloated through excess, aged and stained and jaded by the crimes he’d committed.
That wasn’t what she got.
In fact, he was as far from any of those things as it was possible to get. He had to be in his late thirties, if she had to guess, and was tall. Way, way taller than she was, which wasn’t difficult since she was only five foot two. He, on the other hand, looked to be six three or six four at the very least, with wide shoulders that stretched the cotton of his plain white business shirt, which he wore with no tie, the top buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up.
Yet that wasn’t what made her stare. It was his face. Because that stunningly handsome young man in the photos she’d studied had somehow become even more beautiful. Genuinely drop-dead beautiful. His hair was longish, dark tawny at the roots, fading to light gold at the tips, his straight eyebrows the same deep, dark gold. He had high cheekbones, a straight nose, a long and sensual mouth. It was the kind of perfect, masculine beauty that graced magazines and movie screens around the world.
At least, it would have been perfect if not for his eyes. Because it was his eyes that gave him away. They were green with the faintest hint of gold, like a cat’s, like sunlight on a deep, green ocean. A beautiful, haunting color, just like everything else about him. Except there was no warmth in those eyes, only shadows. Only darkness. The eyes of a man who’d done every evil thing under the sun and then some.
Yes, he was beautiful. But in the way a man-eating tiger was beautiful. Lovely to look at, but you wouldn’t want to get close in case you saw the blood on his fangs. And you definitely wouldn’t want to touch.
Very much like herself in too many ways.
Temple’s fingers tightened on the stripper pole.
Jericho smiled, and that beautiful, beautiful voice flowed over her. “Coming, ready or not.”
And the alien feeling, the one she’d thought she’d gotten rid of long ago, that fear, deepened.
* * *
It had been years since Jericho had been able to appreciate beauty in a woman simply because she was beautiful. Without automatically pricing her figure, her hair, her skin, or her general demeanor. And he didn’t now, the habit was simply too ingrained.
Small and slender as a whip. High, firm breasts. Muscled like a dancer. An air of fragility. Curls red enough to start a fire with the color alone. A delicate, cat-like face. Large golden eyes … Yes, she would fetch a good price in any of his markets. Actually, probably more than good. She could fetch top dollar, especially with the dancing skills she’d just displayed.
Yet it wasn’t her money-making potential that had propelled him off that chair, out of the protective darkness and into her spotlight. It was curiosity. Because it had been a long time since a woman hadn’t been afraid of him, long enough that he couldn’t remember what it was like to even have her meet his gaze. But she had met it. And she definitely wasn’t afraid. He’d gotten to be exceptional at reading people, and this girl … well, she wasn’t lying.
She was surprised to find him standing in her spotlight, however. At least, he’d caught a glimpse of it in her magnificent golden eyes, the barest flicker before she’d managed to hide it. She didn’t bother to look away like the rest of them did, though. She didn’t cower or weep. She didn’t have that familiar, sour smell of terror about her that those girls always did, and she didn’t beg either.
She only looked at him from underneath thick, coppery lashes, one small hand holding onto the metal of the stripper pole. It was very nearly flirtatious, that look. Different from the way she’d stared in his direction before, when she’d been dancing. Then it had been focused and sharp, determined. As if she’d been looking for him on purpose. And that alone was enough to spike his curiosity, because no one looked for him. No one who valued their life at least, still less a woman.
“I thought you had to stay in the dark so we couldn’t see you,” she said, her accent American, her voice light with a slightly husky edge he found inexplicably compelling.
He ignored what she’d said since it should have been obvious he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, studying her face instead, searching it for any signs of fear. There were none. “You really aren’t afraid.”
Her mouth, a small, perfect cupid’s bow, turned up. “No.”
“You were looking for me.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.
She gripped the pole and slowly swung around it, like a child on a jungle gym, the dim blue lights that gave the room an underwater glow shining over her pale skin. That small almost-smile curved her mouth, as if she knew a secret he didn’t. “Maybe.”
Nothing surprised him anymore. Nothing intrigued him. Those emotions had been wiped from him over the course of the past sixteen years, along with everything else. Love. Fear. Hate. They were all gone. Scoured away by what he’d done, by what he’d had to do in pursuit of his goal.
He didn’t feel them anymore. So why he should be curious about this young woman simply because she wasn’t afraid of him was anyone’s guess. Maybe it was the paranoia kicking in. God knew, he’d always had to be careful and now, so close to achieving what he’d set out to do all those years ago, he had to be even more careful.
Nothing could get in the way of his mission. Nothing.
He watched her revolve around the pole for a moment, letting her keep that smile on her face for a few seconds longer. Then he said casually, “Tell me, little girl. I really don’t want to have to kill you.” Because he could. All it would take was a certain hand gesture and the room would be full of men with guns, shooting to kill. Either that or he could snap her neck. He’d done both before.
She came to a stop, eyeing him. Not a flicker of fear crossed her face, as if she had death threats every day. And shit, given how the girls usually appeared here, maybe that was true. Maybe she’d become so inured to living with death she didn’t notice it any more.
But no, that wasn’t the case with her, he was certain. Because again, he’d seen girls who’d long since ceased to care about their lives. They were dull with fear, the spark inside them extinguished. Yet not with her. As she stared up at him, he could see that spark still glowing in the depths of her eyes, so fucking bright.
“I guess you could.” She tilted her head to the side, the brightness glinting through her lashes. “Or perhaps I’m here to kill you.”
He nearly smiled at that. Plenty of people had tried; she wouldn’t be the first or even the first woman to do so. But he was exceptionally hard to kill, as many had found out.
Jericho let his gaze travel down her undeniably lovely body, taking in the tiny pasties that were all that concealed her nipples and the even tinier thong that only just covered her pussy, leaving the taut curve of her rear bare. Then he lifted his attention back to her face again. “With what?”
If she found his scrutiny in any way embarrassing or affecting, she didn’t show it. Instead she looked down at herself too. “Hmmm. True. Not exactly anywhere to hide anything.” She glanced back up at him. “So maybe I’m not here to kill you. Maybe I’m here to seduce you instead.”
Again, she wouldn’t be the first, nor would she be the last. But he hadn’t fucked a woman in years, least of all felt desire for one. Of course he had an image to maintain, and so he made sure it looked like he was discerning and perverse with his tastes, choosing one woman a week from his latest top-class shipment. Except he didn’t sleep with them. He rescued them. It wasn’t much to balance out all the shit he’d done—a drop in the ocean really—but it was the one direct, personal action he could take. The only one. Until the time came for him to pull his empire down.
Which he would. Very, very soon.
“Are you?” he murmured, holding her gaze. “And why would you want to do that?”
“Perhaps I’ve heard rumors. That the women you choose for a night get special treatment.” She made another slow revolut
ion around the pole, as if she wasn’t standing next to the most dangerous man in Europe. A man who could have her killed in a matter of seconds if he chose. “And perhaps I want that kind of special treatment for myself.”
Ah yes, the rumors. The ones he’d started. They thought he chose the girls on the basis of beauty, of lust. But he didn’t. No, he chose them on the basis of fear. The ones who were terrified, but not too broken to recover or save themselves once he’d set them free.
This girl was not one of those.
“What makes you think I’ll give it to you?” he asked lazily, watching her. Studying her. “Actually, what the fuck makes you think you can seduce me at all for that matter? I’m a man of singular tastes. And maybe I don’t like cocky redheads who answer back.”
Perhaps she heard the undercurrent of threat he’d put into his voice, because she stopped revolving around the pole, the look in her eyes shifting, changing. Reassessing.
Jesus. She might have told him the truth. She might very well be here to kill him. It was certainly an option he couldn’t discount, and he hadn’t survived this long by discounting options.
Ah, Christ. He should ignore this curiosity. It was dangerous. He should get rid of her, ship her off to the markets in Eastern Europe and hope she survived long enough to be freed when he put his empire to the torch. It would certainly be one less thing on his plate.
She frowned at him, her eyes narrowing. “I tell you what. Let’s make a deal. I’ll try and seduce you, and if I can’t, I’ll tell you the truth about why I’m not afraid of you.”
Well, full marks to her for effort. But he wasn’t a man who made deals with anyone, not these days. “Nice idea.” He allowed himself a slight smile. “Except you’re in no position to bargain for anything.”
Her mouth pursed as if that answer didn’t please her at all. Releasing the pole, she walked over to him, her breasts swaying, her hips swinging, perfectly balanced despite the height of her stripper shoes.
And at which point he should have signaled Dmitri, his Russian bodyguard, to get her out of here and end this … diversion.
Yet he didn’t. Because he was still curious. Because it had been too long since he’d felt anything at all. And because he was the fucking boss. He could do whatever the fuck he liked.
So he stood there as she came closer, not taking his eyes off her. Intrigued by the way she held his gaze, since no one ever looked him in the eye. As if she didn’t see the shadows that lay there or the demon that those shadows hid. As if all she saw was a man.
She stopped right in front of him, glancing up from underneath her lashes, gold glinting, flirtatious and confident of her appeal. Those sparkling star-shaped pasties were inches from his chest and he could smell the scent of her. Not fear. Not despair. Not hopelessness. But a subtle, feminine muskiness he found oddly disquieting.
She wasn’t like the other girls, the ones that came to him distressed and terrified and broken. She was different.
Her small hand settled in the middle of his chest, and for some reason it hit him like a bullet to the brain that this was the first time a woman had come close to him in years. The first time a woman had even touched him voluntarily.
An echo of … something he couldn’t immediately identify went through him. As if her touch was a stone thrown into a still pond, sending out ripples, vibrations.
She pressed her hand a little harder, her burnished gaze flickering up to his. “Am I in a position now?”
There was a confidence to her that bordered on arrogance that he wouldn’t stand for in any other person, man or woman. And for some reason it made those ripples become currents, those vibrations a quake, adrenaline surging through him.
Fuck, he’d let her call the shots for long enough.
Now, it was his turn.
CHAPTER TWO
Temple wasn’t sure if she’d overstepped the mark. The look on his beautiful face had hardened the moment she’d touched him, and yet there had been something glittering in his eyes. Something she was sure was interest.
She’d been careful not to let him see how satisfying that had been, and she was pretty sure she kept it hidden now.
Being so forward had been a gamble but from the looks of things it had paid off. She’d intrigued him, which was what she’d been hoping for all along. Lust was far too easy to inspire since most men were simple creatures. But curiosity? That was different. That was far harder to achieve. Especially with a man like this one, who’d seen everything, done everything.
His chest was firm beneath her hand, hard bands of muscle tensing under the cotton of his white business shirt. Okay, so that was good to know. His build suggested he didn’t just sit around on his ass all day, fucking women and taking drugs, and by the feel of those muscles, that was definitely not the case.
Excellent. She didn’t want this to be easy. She wanted to be tested. This had been a long hunt, and she wanted it to be worth the wait.
She glanced up at him again. His green eyes met hers, as sharp and as focused as she suspected they’d been since she’d first been shoved into the room. And she became conscious that his body was very warm, that he smelled a bit like cinnamon and sandalwood, a spicy, expensive scent. And that she … liked it.
His mouth curled in a lazy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You want to be careful, little girl. When you make a deal with the devil, it doesn’t tend to go well.”
“Kick me out then.”
“Oh no. I’m not going to do that.” His hand covered hers, sending a tiny, unexpected shock through her, and all of a sudden he stepped back into the darkness, taking her with him.
She had no choice but to stumble forward, the sudden change in light blinding her as he drew her over to where the chair stood. Then he sat, pulling her down onto his lap.
It happened so fast she didn’t have a lot of time to adjust to the fact that one minute she was standing underneath the glare of a spotlight, the next she was in the darkness, sitting astride him in a black velvet armchair.
She almost let the mask slip, almost let him see her shock. That she had to work hard not to show it was a real fucking worry. She should be ready for anything, prepared to handle any emergency. Especially after she’d played with the truth a little bit earlier by telling him she was here to kill him.
A stupid confession maybe, but then, a man like him didn’t get where he was today by being stupid. That suspicion would be in his mind already so naming it wouldn’t hurt. And if it got him even more intrigued then all the better.
She just had to be in charge here and stay focused. Or else she could kiss her mission goodbye.
His hands came up to rest on her thighs, large and long-fingered and very, very warm. And she felt her breath catch for some reason, an electric shock chasing over her skin. Shit. Men had touched her before and she’d never had a response like that. Normally she felt nothing, so what the hell was going on?
He’d leaned back in the chair, golden head resting against the black velvet, that smile playing around his beautifully sculpted mouth. He would have looked like a man extremely pleased with himself, if you didn’t look into his eyes. If you didn’t see the hard, cold edges gleaming like a sharpened blade in the emerald depths.
You could cut yourself to pieces on those.
Holy shit. Where had that thought come from?
“Now,” he said in that low, purring voice. “Where were we? Oh yes, you were attempting to bargain with me.”
God, the heat of his body between her thighs was insanely distracting. She could feel it even through the fine black wool of what looked to be expertly tailored business pants. His thighs were hard and muscular too, his hips narrow. Definitely a man who was physically fit and no doubt strong. But, that didn’t matter. She’d taken down men bigger than he was.
She put her hands on the arms of the chair, forcing herself to relax on him. “Well?” she asked, only partly faking breathlessness. “Does this mean we have a deal?”
“Yes.” She had to fight not to frown. His touch was doing something to disturb her concentration, and it was annoying.
He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. “What if I don’t want to be seduced? What if I just want the truth from you?”
She focused on him, tried to dismiss the feeling of his hands on her. “If that’s all you wanted, then why am I sitting on your lap?”
“Good question.” He moved his hands from her thighs, reaching for her wrists where they rested on the arms of the chair and gripping them. Then he sat forward and with gentle, inexorable strength, forced her hands behind her, crossing her wrists in the small of her back and holding them there.
Temple went very still.
He was close now, as close as he’d been under the spotlight, his chest inches from hers. Only this time, it was different. This time, he was the one who was very clearly in charge.
She didn’t like it.
Right from the very beginning, when Thalia had been payment for their asshole father’s drug debt, when she’d learned that men were the ones in charge, the ones who took what they wanted and to hell with who they hurt, she’d determined she’d never be a pawn. Never be used. Never be one of those women who let men have the power, the control.
Yet right now, she didn’t have much choice.
The look on his face hadn’t changed, the lazy smile still curving his mouth, his eyes still cold. Strange when he felt so hot and when he smelled … good.
What the fuck are you thinking? He’s evil. He was the one responsible for taking Thalia. And you’re going to kill him.
“There won’t be any deals,” he purred. “I take what I want when I want it. And the only reason I haven’t taken you right now is that I don’t want you.”
Temple took a small, silent breath. She hated being restrained, hated being helpless, and his grip was very, very strong. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t break, though to do so now would be a mistake and would only cause him to be even more suspicious of her.