Her New York Billionaire

by Andrea Bolter

  He plugged a reminder into his phone to hire an expert makeup artist for the gala.

  But a nagging complication had plagued him throughout dinner. Nothing about the evening had felt fake. Everything had come naturally. From their comfortable banter to the way he and Holly had served the food together and the electrifying kiss they’d shared while telling the story of how they met.

  Moment after moment had passed when he had almost forgotten this was a charade. Worse still, the feeling had filled him with a jarring elation and contentment.

  This was new territory and it petrified him. He’d never given serious thought to a real-life real wife, and now was not the time to start. Concentrating on moving Aunt Louise into retirement and moving the company into a more charitable direction was plenty for the foreseeable future. Plus, he had vowed long ago never to be swayed into forgetting one critical fact.

  Women were not to be trusted.

  Aunt Louise was the only exception in his life. Didn’t he know that well enough?

  All—and that meant all—the women he had ever dated had betrayed him. Society girls, daughters of noblemen and businesswomen alike. They might have approached him as a colleague. Or cozied up to him as the wholesome girl-next-door. Others had come on stronger and seduced him with sexual wiles.

  Not that he hadn’t gone along with them.

  He’d satisfied his urges. Indulged in temptations.

  Several of them quite memorable.

  Yes, maybe a few of them had made him imagine going past three dates or three weeks. But in the end they had always showed their true colors. They hadn’t been who they’d said they were. Even some of their body parts hadn’t been real. They had all been something other than what they had seemed. Out for something. A piece of him.

  And his mother—his own mother—had been the worst offender of them all. That a woman could turn her back on her own son for personal gain was a hurt he’d do well to remember for the rest of his life. Apparently women were capable of the unthinkable.

  So, even though his aunt sensed that Holly’s intentions were good, he mustn’t forget that they were performing in a play. All he could really know was that Holly was a competent actress. Instinct told him that this enchanting woman had a kind heart and honorable aims. But he’d only known her for a couple of days. She might prove herself to be just like the others. And there was plenty she could be hiding. Ethan hadn’t received the background probe from his security chief yet.

  “This is the Seventy-Fourth Street development we did about a decade ago.” He pointed out the window when they reached their first destination. “Leonard, can you pull over to the curb?”

  Lit from within, the gleaming glass tower shot upward into the night sky. Ethan leaned close to Holly, beside him in the backseat, to show off some details.

  “We did the first story with a wider base, and then the remaining twenty-nine floors in a slender tower coming up in the middle. The larger platform of the first level allows for greenery to encircle building.”

  “Is the first-story garden accessible?” Holly asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yes. It was designed so that employees in the offices can go outside into green space whenever they want.”

  Their next destination was Forty-First Street.

  “This one is over twenty-five years old. It was the last project my father worked on before he died. Here they had the issue of erecting new construction in between two buildings from the nineteen-thirties,” he explained.

  “New York is amazing like that, isn’t it?” Holly seemed to understand him.

  “You can see that we did not build right up against the buildings on either side. We created those cement walkways and benches.” He pointed. “We built our structure thinner than we might have, so that occupants in the buildings on either side could still see out of their windows.”

  Ethan was enjoying this tremendously. He was so proud of what his father, Uncle Mel and Aunt Louise had produced. He loved to visit the Benton properties that his father had helped construct. They were all he had left of his dad. Steel, glass and concrete. But they were monuments that would endure for years to come.

  They rode downtown to look at a low-rise housing development near the East River. Holly asked a million questions about why a door was placed where it was and what materials had been used for what.

  Next was a refurbishment in Greenwich Village from the eighteen-nineties. “We spent a fortune on those windows!”

  “They look original.” Holly nodded in appreciation.

  “That was the idea.”

  Then Ethan had Leonard park curbside in front of the massive Chelsea construction zone. The steel skeleton columns were up for all five buildings. Architectural renderings of what the finished project would look like were hung on fences and announced it to be “Benton Chelsea Plaza.”

  “This is all one property?” Holly was surprised by the size of the site.

  “Five buildings of living, working and retail space. And I have commissioned a talented and, I might add, beautiful painter to do the artwork for the public spaces.”

  “The Chelsea project! This is it!”

  Despite the cold, she lowered the car window and jutted out half of her torso to get a better view. Ethan bent forward to get an arm in front of her and pointed out some features.

  Although he’d make sure Aunt Louise received the accolades, this venture was really all his. He’d made the difficult decisions and agonized over the setbacks. He knew this endeavor would have made Uncle Mel and his father proud if they had been alive to see it. And it would allow Aunt Louise to go into retirement on a high note.

  His chest pressed into Holly’s back as he pointed through the window. Impulse ordered him to move her scarf aside, so that he could kiss the back of her neck. Sheer will kept him from doing so. But it was being sorely tested in this close proximity.

  It wasn’t difficult to envision losing power over himself in an instant and laying her down on the car seat, climbing on top of her and delving into her softness. A softness he might not ever be able to return from.

  Which was not at all part of their deal.

  In fact, that kiss at dinner had been much too much. He himself had been startled by the force of it. He could sense it had unbalanced Holly as well.

  He’d only meant to enhance their charade with some harmless and sanctioned affection. Prior to that his “guard and defend” strategy had helped him withstand her casual pats on his arm and his back all evening. Yet his own lips had barely touched hers when they’d begun to demand more, and he hadn’t restrained himself in time. That kiss had been out of the scope of what was necessary in both intensity and duration.

  His actions had overpowered him—a phenomenon he wasn’t accustomed to. Lesson learned.

  He forced himself back to describing the project. “For Building One we have leases for three fine dining restaurants and a food court of six casual establishments.”

  “So all that open space will be outdoor seating?”

  “Exactly. And we will have a retractable awning with heating units for the colder months.”

  “I can imagine it.”

  He continued telling her about the plaza’s features. As with everything Benton Worldwide built, Ethan hoped to live up to architecture’s fundamental principle of providing a building with both form and function for its users.

  “I just thought of one other building I would like to take you to see. It is not a Benton property, but I think you will agree it has merit.”

  * * *

  “You’ve brought me to the Empire State Building?” As she and Ethan got out of the car Holly craned her neck up at the monolith.

  “As long as we were looking at New York architecture,” he said, nodding, “I thought we ought to give this grand dame her due.�
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  Taking her hand, Ethan led her into the Art Deco lobby, with its twenty-four-karat gold ceiling murals and marble walls. “Whew!” she whistled.

  “Do you want to go up to the top?” he asked.

  “Heck, yes.”

  But as they rode the escalator up one floor to the ticketing level memory slapped Holly hard.

  She didn’t mention to Ethan that she had been here once before. With Ricky. They’d come to New York for a long summer weekend. Stayed in a cheap hotel room in New Jersey.

  The Empire State Building had been one of the sights Holly had most wanted to see on their trip. The weather had been hot and humid and the ticket lines crowded with tourists. Unlike tonight—late on a winter Wednesday.

  Ricky had got impatient. He’d wanted a beer. He’d tugged her back down to street level, found a bar and that had been the last Holly had seen of the Empire State Building.

  “Are you nervous about the elevator ride up?” Ethan asked, reacting to what must be showing on her face.

  “No! I was just...um...let’s go!”

  Rocketing into the sky, Holly felt excitement pump through her veins. She was happy to leave old memories as far behind as she was leaving the asphalt of Thirty-Fourth Street and Fifth Avenue.

  When they reached the top Ethan guided her quickly through the indoor viewpoints and exhibits to the outside observation deck.

  And there it was.

  Three hundred and sixty degrees of New York in the dazzling clear night.

  It was utterly freezing. Two sorts of chills ran through her—one from the cold and the other sheer awe.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” That was all she could say.

  The city was so glorious, with the grid of its streets, the grandeur of its buildings and the galaxies of its lights.

  They passed a few other visitors as they circled the deck. Holly gawked at Times Square. At Central Park. The Chrysler Building. The Statue of Liberty. The Hudson River.

  She begged for a second lap around. “Let’s take selfies!” She grinned as she pulled out her phone.

  “You look very beautiful,” Ethan said in a husky voice. “Your cheeks are pink from the cold.”

  She sensed him watching her more than he was looking at the views. He’d seen the sight of Manhattan before. It was probably all ho-hum to a global traveler like him. He had seen all the wonders of the world. And was probably amused at Holly’s enthusiasm.

  But he gamely put his arm around her and they posed to get photos with the skyline behind them, the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance. Holly surrendered the phone to him, to lift it higher than she could. He clicked several shots.

  As he handed the phone back to her he kissed her on the cheek.

  “I am so sorry.” He backed away. “I did not mean to do that. I have no idea why I did.”

  “Maybe because a million romantic movie scenes have taken place right here?”

  “Yes, that must be it. My apologies. It will not happen again.”

  She braved it and said what she wanted to say. “Actually, I’m glad you did. At dinner in front of your aunt and Fernando I got so flustered when you kissed me. I think I’ll need to practice physical contact with you until it feels more expected.”

  She wasn’t sure if she had really said that out loud or merely thought it. Rehearse kissing Ethan? That was insane.

  “You might be right.”

  He moved in front of her so they were face to face. With her back to the observation deck’s railing. The glistening city behind her.

  Her breath sputtered. “In order to be convincing...”

  Ethan arched down and brushed his mouth ever so slightly against hers. A wisp of his breath warmed her lips when he asked, “So, for example, you need to practice doing that?”

  “Uh-huh,” she squeaked out.

  Why did he have to be so attractive? This would be much easier if she had become the fake fiancée of an unappealing man who didn’t ignite her inside.

  Clearly practice was all that was needed. Practice would make perfect. Eventually she’d become numb to him. Kissing would be a choreographed action they’d perform like trained seals.

  She was sure of it.

  “What about this?” he taunted, and more strength applied a firmer kiss to her lips.

  A jolt shot up her back. Her hips rocked forward uncontrollably.

  “I... I...” She struggled to take in a complete breath. “I think I need to work on that one.”

  She tilted her head back for mercy.

  Giving her none, he took both sides of her face in his two hands and drew her to him. He kissed her yet again. Harder. Longer.

  “Do we need to rehearse this?”

  Now he’d opened his mouth. And he didn’t stop there. The tip of his tongue parted her lips. Forced her tongue to meet his. Drove her to take. Give. Insist on more.

  A dark moan rumbled from low in his gut.

  A group of tourists strode past, ignoring them and pointing out landmarks in spirited voices. Holly couldn’t see them. Ethan was all she could see.

  His hands slid from the sides of her face slowly down her arms to the tips of her fingers. His lips traced across her jaw and then he murmured into her neck, “Do you think an engaged couple might need to kiss like that on occasion?”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  He took hold of her hips and crushed himself into her. Pinned her back against the railing. She stretched her arms up around his neck, going pliant and yielding against the steel of his body.

  With New York as her witness, he kissed her again and again and again. Until they had only one heartbeat. Until there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was a couple who were deeply in love.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FLOATING ON A CLOUD. Ethan had heard that saying before but this was the first time he’d experienced what it meant. Yes, his physical body lay on the uncomfortable leather sofa that was too small to stretch out on. But his heart and soul wafted above him in a silken, curvy vision he never wanted to wake from.

  Of course, real sleep eluded him. It seemed an utter waste of time when Holly Motta was in the world. Sleep would just be hours and minutes spent away from thinking about her. What if, during sleep, his subconscious drifted away from the cocoon of her embrace? No, sleep was not time well spent. Not when instead he could linger in this half-daze, filled with the memory of her velvety lips on his and her long arms wrapped around him.

  Though reality nagged at him.

  After that mind-bending interlude of kissing at the Empire State Building they both knew that something unintentional, inappropriate and very dangerous had passed between them. Something they were going to need to backtrack from. To run from. And to return themselves to the “strictly business” contract they had made.

  During the car ride afterward they’d chit-chatted about the architecture of a couple of noteworthy buildings along the way. Once they’d got home Holly hadn’t been able to get away from him fast enough. She’d emerged from the bathroom in a tee shirt and pajama shorts, poured herself a glass of water, voiced a quick good-night and then rapped the bedroom door closed with her foot.

  Ethan hoped that she was in his bed, resting in peaceful sleep. At least one of them ought to be. If he was being honest, he also hoped that she was having sweet dreams about him. Just as he was drifting in his trance about her.

  As the endless night wore on Ethan’s elation turned to irritation. This was not what he’d signed up for. Lying awake thinking about a woman? No deal!

  He couldn’t afford to have that kind of preoccupation in his life. None of his plans included a woman.

  Sure, he could enjoy the company of the exotic and enticing females that his travels put him in contact with. That was a game he could play indefi
nitely. He wanted something from them that they’d readily give in exchange for a taste of his affluence and the limelight. Then they would want more and he would move on. He knew the routine well.

  For all his aunt’s prodding, Ethan hadn’t ever truly acknowledged the possibility of really devoting himself to someone and building an inner circle with them. A private life together. Not after what he’d seen of the world. Not after his mother.

  Blasted Holly! She’d exploded into his life and detonated every stronghold he held.

  Worse still, to all intents and purposes he had reached the point of no return with her. He’d already introduced her to Aunt Louise. The gala was in three days. It would be a huge setback to back out now.

  There was no choice but to see this through. However, once his aunt had stepped down and was securely ensconced in the warm Barbados sand, Ethan might have to cut the Holly engagement short. He couldn’t take much more of this.

  Uncle Mel had taught him that admitting and analyzing his mistakes was the crucial first step toward moving forward. Ethan had made a grave error in misjudging his own ability to keep this a purely business transaction.

  Or perhaps it was just Holly. He’d chosen the wrong person for the job.

  Holly was testimony that his aunt and uncle might be right—that an authentic love might be out there in the world for him. A love that was worth bowing to and sacrificing for. That defined his future and ordered everything else to work around it.

  Which was not at all where Ethan was headed.

  Argh! The road not taken... If only he had stuck to his original plan to hire an actress. She’d have been a consummate professional who knew exactly how to separate reality from performance. Her expertise would have shown him the way.

  Just for torture, he flicked on a lamp and snatched his tablet from the coffee table. He clicked onto the website of the talent agency where he had located his original choice. The—unfortunately for him—pregnant Penelope Perkins. The website featured headshot photos of the talent they represented. Tap on the photo and a short bio appeared.