The Broke Billionaire

by Ann Omasta

  She tried her best to see through his façade, but he seemed so sincere. Refusing to fall for his slick talk, she said, “Oh, you’re good.”

  “Why, thank you,” he responded cockily before adding, “but I haven’t done anything to you…yet.”

  The ‘yet’ had her licking her lips involuntarily. She didn’t want her body to react to him this way. He watched her like she was the only woman he had ever seen. It was embarrassing and thrilling and more exciting than any look she had ever been given.

  Not wanting to let him get to her, she decided to shut things down quickly. “I know your type,” she informed him before adding, “and I’m not falling for your charm.” She wasn’t willing to become one in a string of many women that he charmed out of her pants before quickly moving on.

  “Is that so?” He quirked a brow at her, obviously amused. At her brisk nod, he asked, “And what exactly do you think my type is?”

  “The rich playboy, who is used to getting everything he wants and having everyone fawn all over him,” she retorted, feeling pretty good about herself until she saw him visibly slump in the bed.

  “You know who I am,” he guessed.

  “I do, and I want no part of it,” she responded. “I know what you powerful guys like, and that lifestyle is not for me.”

  “Are you going to fill me in on what it is you think I enjoy?” He seemed bemused by her brashness, but she felt in too deep to stop now.

  “You know, the bossy, I’m-in-charge stuff.” She knew she should quit before she got herself in any deeper, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. “You super-wealthy men want to be with obedient women, who will do whatever you say and like it.”

  “Is that right?” He grinned up at her, like she was the most amusing person he had ever encountered. “What else am I looking for in a woman?”

  “You probably always want to be dominant. You’re used to controlling everything and having everything go your way in business dealings, so that probably carries over into your romantic life,” she guessed.

  “It’s starting to sound like you think I would be a selfish pig in the bedroom.” When she lifted her shoulders as if to say, ‘if the shoe fits,’ his eyes lit up with an idea. “I think I should get the opportunity to prove otherwise.” He patted the bed beside him in silent invitation.

  She scoffed and shook her head at his outlandish suggestion. Continuing to plead his case, he added, “It sounds like you have been getting your ideas of billionaire sexy-time skills solely from Fifty Shades of Grey.” She shook her head, even though she knew his assessment was spot-on.

  He gave her a look to let her know he was aware that his guess was accurate, but didn’t call her out on it. “On behalf of all of the other poor billionaires out there, I would like the chance to prove that we aren’t all control freaks. In fact, I pride myself on being a generous, giving lover.”

  She could feel her heart rate quickening at the thought of him giving her pleasure over and over again. She focused on deepening her breaths, which had become unnaturally shallow. As she worked to calm the outward signs of her arousal, something he said finally dawned on her. “Poor billionaires?” she asked him. “That’s a bit of an oxymoron isn’t it?”

  “Not at all,” he responded immediately. “Very wealthy people can buy anything they want,” he started.

  “Right,” she interrupted as if he had just made her point.

  “But,” he held up a finger to let her know he wasn’t finished, “we are often broke in the assets that truly matter… love, companionship, affection, time, intimacy, emotional attachment. All the money in the world can’t buy those things.”

  She hadn’t ever really thought about it that way. It would be tough to never really know who liked you for you, rather than your money. She was sure there were plenty of users out there, who would be more than willing to take advantage of Trey’s money. She could see the potential for it to be a lonely existence. In the big scheme of things, too much money would be a decent problem to have, so she didn’t want to let him feel too sorry for himself. Sticking out her plump lip, she said, “Poor billionaires have it so rough.”

  He guffawed with laughter at her silly response. “It’s really awful,” he joked with her. “We have even formed a support group. It’s called the Broke Billionaires Club.”

  “So sad.” She feigned sympathy.

  “You common folk just don’t understand the woes of having more money than you know what to do with,” he said as he swooped a strong arm out and pulled her into his bed.

  “Yeah, that’s a problem I’ve never had to deal with,” she admitted, enjoying the feeling of being cradled once more in his arms.

  “I can’t tear my eyes away from that cupcake container,” he rumbled near her ear. “Hand it over,” he joked when she lifted it up just out of his reach.

  “You’re worse than a kid,” she reprimanded him, even though she secretly enjoyed having him so excited about tasting one of her baked goods. She hoped he would like it.

  He stretched and grabbed the box from her hand and tore into it. If the groaning noises he was emitting were any indication, he was a huge fan of her cupcake. “This is so delicious,” he raved around a mouthful of the treat, making her beam.

  He scarfed down the entire thing and was licking off his fingers when he commented, “That has to be one of the best cupcakes I’ve ever had, and I’m a bit of a cupcake snob.”

  “Really?” She wanted him to go on.

  “It had just the right amount of frosting and the cake practically melted in my mouth.” She liked having him brag on her baking skills. “I bet your bakery is the hottest spot in town,” he guessed.

  “Well––” She didn’t want to admit to him that her business was barely scraping by. She finally settled on, “It pays the bills.”

  “If I lived here, I would be there every day,” he praised her. “It’s so much better than the horrid hospital food they serve here. Even the premium meals leave a lot to be desired,” he revealed.

  She tried not to flinch at how much the ‘premium’ meals must cost. She wanted to tell him that she would appreciate him holding down the costs of this hospital stay as much as possible, but she doubted he would have any idea how to go about doing that. Super wealthy people didn’t understand the daily struggle that money could be for the average person, but she refused to let him pay for an accident that had been her fault, no matter how wealthy he was. She had more pride than that.

  Broaching the subject another way, she asked, “When will you be able to get out of here?”

  “My doctors said I’m a little banged up and I’ll probably be sore for a few days, but nothing is broken, so they are planning to release me today,” he smiled, totally proud of himself.

  His use of the plural word ‘doctors’ was concerning, but she tried not to let it show. The financial implications of him being able to leave today were a huge relief, but her heart weighed heavily in her stomach at the thought of him leaving town today. It was probably best for him to go before she became any more attached, though.

  7

  Reaching over to the plethora of electronic devices that were at his bedside, Trey grabbed one and announced, “I have an idea!”

  Ellie wondered how all of his belongings had arrived there, but decided not to ask. He probably had ‘people’ who took care of such mundane tasks for him. He used the Wi-Fi to download an eBook on his Kindle app, while Ellie tried not to wonder how much the hospital’s Wi-Fi cost per day.

  “There.” He handed the tablet to her. “Since you seem to like it so much, you can read Fifty Shades of Grey to me. Just the dirty parts, though.”

  “I’m not reading this to you,” she spluttered, shocked by his suggestion.

  “Come on,” he tried. “I’ll let you have your way with me. You can be in charge of the billionaire,” he offered, resting back against his pillows and indicating with an open hand that she was free to climb on.

  “You are in th
e hospital recuperating,” she reminded him.

  “I’ll be released later,” he promised. “Want to have your way with me then?”

  “No,” she lied, hoping that she sounded convincing.

  “Can I have a get-well kiss?” he asked, trying to look innocent. She started to say no, but then decided to go for it.

  He seemed surprised at first that his wish had been granted when her lips brushed lightly against his. It didn’t take him long to recover and join in the kiss. He kept his lips soft and pliable as they explored each other’s mouths. When she opened her mouth to let a sigh escape, his tongue took the opportunity to delve inside. She felt it all the way to her toes as his tongue danced with hers.

  Deciding she had to get out of there before things got out of hand, she pulled back. “I have to get back to work,” she said over her shoulder, already headed for the door.

  “Make me something marvelous,” he requested.

  She told him she would see what she could do before letting the door close behind her. Leaning back on it, she let out a huff of breath. She would need to keep her guard up to protect her heart when she was around that infuriating, funny, and sexy-as-hell man.

  Marcy had held down the fort at the shop for the mid-morning crowd, so Ellie let her go home early. The woman liked nothing more than a surprise afternoon off. Apparently, money wasn’t as important to her as free time. Ellie tried to tell herself that she was giving the woman a reward, not trying to save a few bucks to help her pay the ever-mounting medical bill of the man that wouldn’t leave her mind for more than a moment.

  She started whipping up fresh batches of some of her favorite cupcake recipes. She pretended it was for the shop, but she knew it was really in hopes that she would get to see Trey enjoy one of her sweet treats one more time.

  The bells on the bakery’s front door jingled just as she was pulling a steaming batch of salted caramel cupcakes out of the oven. “Just a minute,” she yelled to the customer out front.

  When she emerged from the kitchen, she was thrilled to see Trey Donovan himself in her shop. He had a slight limp and a few marks on his face, but those injuries were the only evidence that he had been struck by a car. Taking note of his dark denim, perfect-fitting jeans and smart polo shirt, she rubbed a hand nervously down her frumpy apron. He grinned at her like she was a slice of freshly baked, lattice-top cherry pie with a dollop of hand-whipped cream on top.

  “You have a little something right there.” He reached out and used the back of his index finger to swipe a stray smear of flour off her cheek. The brush of his skin against hers sent a tingle down her spine––all the way down.

  “May I?” he asked, indicating the tray of hot cupcakes she had forgotten she was still holding with potholders.

  “They’re hot,” she warned, “and not iced yet.” She let her voice trail off because he had already grabbed one and was bouncing it in his hand trying to keep from getting burned. Grabbing a napkin from the counter, he blew on the piping hot treat and took a tentative bite. “Ohmygah.” He made an appreciative, garbled sound as he took another bigger bite.

  Somewhat annoyed at his presumptiveness, she tapped her foot. “Those weren’t ready,” she snapped at him. He seemed totally unperturbed by her snippiness, so she added, “And you’re going to have to pay for it. I’m not running a charity here.”

  The look he gave her was priceless. He appeared to be utterly stunned by her abrupt comment. Just when she was wondering if she had gone too far, he tipped his head back and bellowed with laughter. The contagious sound had her smiling, despite her intentions otherwise. “I’ll pay for the whole batch. How does that sound?” he offered.

  “That will be fine,” she answered haughtily, not wanting to let him know how tight her money would be because she didn’t want to guilt him into paying for his medical bills. He was probably used to having everyone assume he would always pick up the check for everything. That would get so old.

  “Well, if I’m buying them anyway, I’d like to try the icing, please.”

  Taking his not-so-subtle hint, she took the tray back to the kitchen. “They’re still too hot to ice,” she informed him as he looked at her expectantly.

  “Mmm. Is that toffee icing?” At her nod, he stated his approval, “Nice touch,” even as he dipped his finger into the bowl to taste it.

  “Hey!” she reprimanded him.

  “This batch is mine, remember?” he reminded her, even as a naughty look sparked in his chocolate eyes. “Any ideas of what we could do while we wait for them to cool?”

  Her back was to the stainless steel counter, and he had moved into her space. He was close and she could feel the heat emanating from his front. Dipping his finger back into the icing, he held it up to her lips. “Taste it,” he suggested.

  Starting to shake her head, he caught her chin with his icing-free hand. “Taste it, please.”

  As if she would have the power to resist him anything, especially when he requested so nicely. Feeling silly, she flicked her tongue out to slide along his finger. The half-lidded desirous gaze he gave her made her feel bold, so she took his finger into her warm, wet mouth and sucked.

  That was all it took. Trey pounced. His mouth was on hers as his tongue replaced his finger and his arms snaked around her, caging her against the counter. She could feel his firm manhood pressing urgently into her belly. She felt like warm liquid in his embrace as she untucked his shirt and trailed her fingertips up the hot skin of his back.

  She wanted him more than she dared to admit, even to herself, but some still-rational part of her mind knew that this wasn’t the time or place. She refused to be one of his conquests that he seduced and forgot about the very next day. Pulling back, she was breathing heavy, but she forced the words out.

  As soon as she told him to stop, he dropped his hands and backed off. “I’m sorry I let things get carried away,” she told him honestly, “but I can’t be one of your one-night stands.”

  The look he gave her was more than a little perturbed. She felt relieved that she had put a stop to things, if he was going to be this way about it. The last thing she wanted was to get attached to him, only to find out that she was just another notch in his very expensive belt.

  “You think you know me so well,” he said sadly before turning to leave.

  As an afterthought, he turned and picked up another cupcake. Dipping it directly in the icing bowl he rationalized the move without looking at her. “Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”

  Then he left, and she stood there in stunned silence.

  8

  Ellie spent a long, restless night tossing and turning in her bed. Was she wrong about Trey? Was he not the womanizer that she imagined him to be? He had to be, right?

  As much as she wanted to be wrong about him, she was scared to allow herself to develop feelings for him. A person with that much money and power would be a bear to live with. She wanted to be her own strong woman, not someone who stood in the shadow of a man who wanted to dominate and control her.

  He probably thinks all of his money buys him the right to boss everyone around, she decided. “I want no part of that,” she said aloud to the empty room.

  Realizing that she sounded like she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t want him, she changed tactics. Mumbling to herself, she said, “He’s probably just never had anyone turn him down before. I pose a challenge and that’s a new thing for him. It’s not me he likes…it’s the chase. He only wants what he can’t have because he normally gets EVERYTHING he wants.”

  At this point, Ellie realized that her voice had escalated to the point that she was yelling at the empty room. “I’m not interested in him,” she reminded herself as she stepped into the steamy spray of her shower. “I don’t want to set myself up for that kind of life. He’s probably a workaholic and would ignore me in favor of staying at the office. Then he’d have an affair with his secretary. It’s better just to avoid all of that.” />
  She leaned her head against the shower wall as she rationalized with herself. Even though all of the things she had just told herself were probably accurate, they didn’t change the fact that she wanted to be with him. She wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything.

  His money was more of a deterrent than a draw for her. Sure, it would be nice to be comfortable and not have to worry about how to pay the bills every month, but having the kind of money he had would probably become a burden.

  She didn’t want to want him. She shouldn’t ache with need for him. It wasn’t in her best interest to need him down to her core. She should just forget him and move on, but evidently that wasn’t a possibility.

  It was then that the waterworks started. As the realization set in that Ellie had failed to protect her heart, she sobbed with fear and trepidation over the impending heartache that she felt coming. It seemed unreal that she had fallen so hard and fast for Trey, but she knew she already didn’t want to contemplate life without him.

  The conflicting desires to save herself from being hurt more and to see Trey just one more time dueled in her mind as the hot tears blazed trails down her cheeks. In the end, she decided to make a clean break. It was better for everyone that way.

  Even as she came to the conclusion that it was better not to see him anymore, her heart shouted at her, “Better for whom?!?”

  9

  One thing that Ellie prided herself on was being an opinionated, strong-willed woman. After all, how many people decided at the tender age of eight to open a bakery and then proceeded to follow through on that dream? Once she made up her mind about something she stuck with it…no matter what.

  The temptation to break her vow to have a clean break with Trey was almost overwhelming. She tried to convince herself that it would be polite to check in on how he was doing health-wise. She had run over the man with her car, so she really should check, just to be a decent human being. She rationalized that she could check in and be on her merry way, but she knew deep down in her heart that wouldn’t be the case.