All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction)

by Thorne, Olivia

  “Sebastian handled it,” Connor assured me.

  “Yeah, but what’s going to happen to it?”

  “We’ll get somebody to drive it back to LA.”

  I stared at him, flummoxed. “You have employees who drive quarter of a million dollar cars back and forth between LA and Vegas?”

  “Johnny does it,” Connor teased.

  “Yeah, ‘cause somebody sneaks off by himself all the time,” Johnny snapped, then looked at me like he was afraid he might have upset me.

  Actually, I did suffer a little twist in my stomach when he said it – but not for the reason he thought.

  “The Lamborghini – what about the Lamborghini?!”

  “Sebastian handled that, too,” Connor soothed me as he took my arm and guided me towards the plane. “Stop worrying about my stuff, that’s not your job.”

  “You just have a whole fleet of people who move empty cars around the country, don’t you,” I said reprovingly.

  “I have a whole fleet of people who do what I need done. We all set?” he asked Sebastian as we approached.

  “Take off’s as soon as Johnny can get the bags stowed,” Sebastian confirmed.

  “Thank you,” Connor said to the pilots, who were all smiles as they shook Connor’s hand. Then he guided me up the steps into the cabin.

  It was amazing.

  The interior was cream-colored with dark wood paneling. The seats were all dark brown, plush leather – at least half a dozen single chairs, with a couple of doubles in loveseat style that faced one another across a wooden table. One long sofa ran flush with the side of the cabin.

  There were also televisions – a 36” screen across from the sofa, and a series of smaller screens accessible from the seats. A couple of Apple laptops were fastened to some of the single seats with adjustable metal frames.

  “Where do we sit?” I asked Connor.

  “Anywhere you want,” he grinned. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to use the restroom.”

  He disappeared into a wood-paneled alcove at the back of the plane.

  “Would you care for a drink?” a woman’s voice asked behind me.

  I turned around to see a woman in a crisp white shirt, navy jacket and skirt, and a scarf around her neck. She was a few years older than me, and very pretty.

  “Who are you?” I asked, astounded.

  She just smiled. “I’m part of the flight crew. Can I get you anything?”

  I looked around the cabin. There were seats for twelve people – and it was an airplane. I guess it made sense…

  “Um… water?”

  She looked a little surprised. “Just water? I could get you a drink, if you like. Champagne, a variety of wines, mixed drinks – ”

  “Just water, please.”

  “Bottled?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Sparkling or flat?”

  This is WEIRD…

  “Just a regular bottle of water is fine,” I said.

  She smiled and started to walk away, but as she did I called out, “Um… can I use one of these computers?

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Help yourself.”

  Then she disappeared down the same alcove where Connor had gone.

  I looked down at the laptop, my stomach churning… then sat down and opened up the internet browser. Typed in TMZ.com.

  I shouldn’t have done that.

  21

  Beneath the website’s scarlet red header and a series of smaller pictures of celebrities was the headline, “Billionaire Bangs Back-Alley Babe For 50K.”

  And then right beneath that, the top of a photograph. Only my face and the top of Connor’s head were visible until I scrolled down.

  I shouldn’t have done that, either.

  It was one of the shots where Connor’s face was in full profile. My mouth was open and I was making an outlandish ‘O’ face. My dress was down near my waist, and my breasts had two tiny red blocks placed strategically over the nipples.

  My hands started shaking as I scrolled down further.

  “The rich really ARE different – as in freaky … Connor Templeton, of the world-famous billionaire Templeton family, can be seen here getting nasty with a young woman he allegedly paid $50,000. For what? You be the judge.

  “TMZ broke the story from an anonymous source … seems Connor, who usually avoids the spotlight, decided he wanted to get it ALL out in the open … on a Las Vegas condo property. It happened near the Strip – which seems very appropriate, considering how little clothing his female friend is wearing in these photos …

  “The woman has been identified as Lily Ross of Los Angeles. Ms. Ross worked for a big LA consulting firm until yesterday, when she was reportedly fired. Looks like she found other employment pretty quickly …

  “Our sources tell us $50,000 was paid directly into Lily’s bank account, and ever since then, she’s been accompanying Connor on a tour of Las Vegas, “Pretty Woman”-style …

  “We have to say, Lily is definitely cute ... but with a series of supermodels and Hollywood A-listers in his romantic past, did Connor really get his money's worth? Seems for that price he could have had a bevy of hot women – all at once. But maybe Lily has hidden ‘talents’ that only Connor knows about … although neither of them seems too shy about showing the world …

  Beneath that were a whole series of other pictures, with the text ‘Click to see more’ underneath them.

  I almost threw up.

  And then someone’s hand reached from behind me and slapped the screen closed.

  Connor.

  I turned and looked up at him scowling at the laptop. Then he looked at me, and his expression softened. “Don’t read that trash. Don’t even look at it.”

  The stewardess – or whatever her title was – came back with the bottle of water and an empty glass. She looked uncertainly from Connor to me. “Um… I have your water…?”

  “I… think I’ll have that drink you mentioned,” I said weakly.

  “Bring her some brandy,” Connor ordered. “And bring me a bottle of Dalmore. The 1974.”

  The stewardess nodded. As she was about to walk away, Sebastian’s voice stopped her: “No.”

  Everyone looked over at where he stood by the door to the plane, arms crossed, face glowering. “I need you in top form in exactly seven hours, Connor.”

  “And I will be,” he snapped.

  Sebastian shook his head. “Not with a bellyful of scotch, you won’t.”

  Connor stared down his assistant, but spoke to the stewardess. “Bring Lily a glass of brandy… and bring me the Dalmore.”

  The stewardess’s eyes flitted back and forth between Connor and Sebastian… and then she quietly went to the back of the plane, walking as quickly as she could without obviously running away.

  23

  The brandy helped steady my nerves for the phone call. I went in the back of the plane and sank down in one of the plush leather seats, the farthest away from all the hustle and bustle.

  It was almost midnight in North Carolina; I didn’t want to wake up my parents.

  Hey Mom, hey Dad, did I wake you? Oh, I did? Just wanted to tell you not to watch the news tomorrow or look online at anything, EVER. Okay, goodnight!

  No, I needed a comforting voice.

  She answered on the second ring.

  “Lily?”

  “Hey Anh,” I said softly.

  There was a long silence.

  I realized what it meant.

  “You already know,” I whispered, and closed my eyes in pain. “God, that was fast…”

  “Sarah texted me and asked if it was really you… is it?”

  I laughed once, bitterly. “Haven’t you seen the pictures?”

  Her reply was so quiet I almost couldn’t hear it: “…yeah…”

  “So then you know it’s me.”

  “…it could’ve been Photoshop… right?”

  I sighed, still not opening my eyes. “It wasn’t Photoshop.�
��

  “…how did it happen…?”

  I thought about a smartass reply – well, when a man and a woman love each other very much and want to make a baby outdoors…

  But I figured that wasn’t the best play, when what I really wanted was a shoulder to lean on. “It’s… it’s really fucked up. Yes, we did it, but Connor has this rich, evil ex-girlfriend who’s trying to ruin him…”

  “Is she trying to ruin him because she’s jealous of you?!”

  “No, it’s… it’s a big business deal thing… she was trying to blackmail him…”

  “Holy shit – did you guys call the police?!”

  “It doesn’t matter, she already dropped the bomb.” I looked around the seat and down the aisle. Twenty feet away, Connor was pouring himself a drink as Sebastian looked on in severe disapproval. I carried on in a whisper. “Anh, I’m so scared… and I can’t admit it, not in front of him…”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he gave me the choice of whether the photos got leaked or not.”

  “What happened?! Did that evil ex lady double-cross you?”

  I frowned, then realized Anh didn’t realize what I had done. “No… I chose to let them get out.”

  “WHAT?!”

  “She was going to destroy all his plans if I didn’t.”

  “So you destroyed your own life instead?! AND HE LET YOU?!”

  “Anh, this isn’t helping.”

  A pause.

  “Sorry. What… what do you want me to do? Is there anything I CAN do?”

  I drew my body into a little ball on the seat, the smallest that I could get it. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”

  A longer pause.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Anh said.

  She didn’t sound convincing.

  She sounded like somebody in a movie holding the hand of somebody else who was going to die… and both characters knew it, but were going through the motions because nobody wanted to confront the truth.

  “My parents… I can’t tell them, I can’t…”

  That was the real reason I hadn’t called them: because I couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment and shame in their voices.

  “It’ll be okay,” Anh repeated in her robotic voice.

  “I didn’t do it for the money,” I whispered.

  “Pff, I know THAT.”

  That was the real Anh – and she was telling me the truth.

  I smiled. “As long as you don’t think too many horrible things about me, I’ll be okay.”

  “Too late!”

  I grinned wider.

  “But now I can TOTALLY see why he paid you 50K… damn, girl, you FREAKY.”

  “Anh!” I whispered hoarsely, verging on laughter.

  “Just kidding. But still – DAAAAMN.”

  Once I got off the phone with her a few seconds later, I was in a much better mood.

  23

  Connor was finishing off his second glass when he called me over to the loveseat. “Come here, we’re getting ready to take off.”

  I slipped in beside him, and he wrapped one arm protectively around me and pulled me closer to him. Though he still seemed fine, I could smell the scotch on his breath.

  Sebastian and Johnny sat across the table from us in a double seat of their own. Sebastian looked mightily pissed off; Johnny looked like he was trying to stay out of the line of fire.

  “Buckle up,” Connor ordered as he drained the rest of his scotch.

  I picked up the ends of the belt from the seat and locked them together around my waist.

  “Want another drink?” Connor offered.

  Across the table, Sebastian glared at me like, Don’t encourage him.

  “No, thanks.” As Connor reached for the bottle, I put my hand on his arm. “Maybe you should take it easy… it’s going to be a really bad day tomorrow.”

  “God, not you, too,” he said darkly, and went ahead and poured himself a couple of fingers of amber liquid. “It’s been a really bad day today, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  The plane began to accelerate rapidly. Connor grabbed the bottle with one hand and held onto the glass with the other.

  “You get your wish,” he said sarcastically to Sebastian. “No more drinking… for a couple of minutes.”

  “Extend that to the next 24 hours and then I’ll get my wish,” Sebastian shot back.

  “Not gonna happen.”

  As the engines roared, I felt everything grow light beneath us, and then we were lifting. The liquid in the glass tilted back at an angle in Connor’s glass as the plane nosed into the air.

  After a few minutes we leveled off, and the liquid in the glass went back to level. Connor downed it almost immediately.

  “Can you stop drinking for a few fucking minutes and let’s talk about tomorrow?” Sebastian snapped.

  Connor put the bottle next to him in the seat, wrapped his left arm around me, and gestured with his right hand. “Alright, consigliere, let’s hear what you have to say.”

  I frowned. “Is that from The Godfather?”

  “Very good,” Connor laughed, and tweaked my nose with his finger.

  He was certainly in a better mood from the scotch, that was for sure.

  “The consigliere was the advisor to the Don. Al Pacino had to boot Robert Duvall because he wasn’t a wartime consigliere. But luckily for us, Sebastian’s the best wartime consigliere there is. So…” Connor said, and waved his right arm expansively, like Go right ahead.

  Sebastian kept glaring, and looked between Connor and the bottle, but then grudgingly began to speak. “Alright, when you go on the news tomorrow, I figure you should play it this way…”

  They talked for awhile, and I kept up for a little bit, but honestly, I was so emotionally drained from the day that I started to fade. The brandy did the rest.

  When I woke up, we were in Los Angeles.

  24

  Connor nudged me awake. “We’re here, Lily.”

  I lifted my head groggily from Connor’s shoulder. We were still in the airplane, but Johnny and Sebastian were on their feet and milling around.

  The hum of the engines was gone, as was the vibration of the airplane in flight.

  We must have landed.

  Connor helped me to my feet and down the stairs to the tarmac where a stretch limo was waiting. He held the rear car door open for me and then followed me inside. The smell of scotch on his breath was pretty powerful.

  “How long was I out for?” I asked, rubbing my cheek and hoping I didn’t have any drool on me. Nope. Thank God.

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “Wow, that was fast…” I mumbled.

  Sebastian piled into the limo with Johnny, who shut the door behind them. Since it was a stretch, the limo had two sets of seats facing each other, and Sebastian and Johnny sat directly opposite us.

  I felt like we were in a gangster movie.

  Or going to prom.

  Sebastian looked like a very unhappy gangster/prom date.

  Then a voice I didn’t recognize spoke over a speaker. “Is everyone ready?”

  “We’re good,” Connor spoke aloud, and the limo began to move.

  “What time is it?” I asked blearily.

  “9:45. We should be back at the Dubai within 30 minutes, at which point we all need to go to sleep,” Sebastian said, staring at Connor meaningfully. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Did you get the penthouse?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, I got the penthouse,” Sebastian snapped. “And, by the way, I’ll be staying in the penthouse to make sure you’re up in the morning.”

  “No. You can bunk with Johnny across the hall.”

  Johnny looked at Connor. “Say what?”

  Sebastian scowled. “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s not a suggestion, it’s an order,” Connor said, his voice cold as death.

  Sebastian looked furious, but he clamped down on his emotions. “I’ll be bunking with Johnny, appar
ently. But I want a keycard so I can come rouse your drunk ass out of bed at 3:30 to make sure you get to the Good Morning America appearance. Which I sold my soul for, by the way, so show a little gratitude.”

  “Is that what a soul’s going for these days?” Connor asked with a barely suppressed smile. “I didn’t know the Devil was in broadcasting.”

  “She’s not. She’s blackmailing you,” Sebastian snapped.

  Connor looked grim. “Touché.”

  I watched the streetlights flash by outside the limo. “Hey – we’re not at LAX!”

  “No, we landed in Burbank,” Sebastian confirmed.

  I frowned. “But… we were going back to LA, and so was Javier… so why didn’t he just come with us?”

  “It was either say goodbye to him there, or bore him to death for an hour while I worked on the plane and then say goodbye to him here,” Sebastian shrugged.

  “You worked on the plane?”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “While some people were sleeping.”

  “We spent most of the time strategizing,” Connor explained.

  “Some people did,” Sebastian sniped. “Others spent it drinking.”

  Connor fixed Sebastian with a steely look. “Sebastian, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me the last couple of hours – I do – but I’ve handled intensely high-pressure situations before without you holding my hand. I’m a big boy, you’re not my wet nurse, so back… the fuck… off.”

  Sebastian closed his mouth and looked out the window. He was obviously hurt and angry.

  “He’s just trying to help,” I reprimanded Connor. “He’s worried you’re going to – ”

  Connor looked over at me, and the anger in his voice chilled me to the bone. “Do not take his side over mine, Lily. Ever.”

  Then he looked out the window.

  My cheeks flushed – from anger, from fear, from shame. The first two I understood; the last, I didn’t. All I know is I felt like a four-year-old getting a talking-to from Daddy.

  And then the moment passed, and I was even angrier that he had made me feel like that.

  I opened my mouth –