Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1)

by Jessa Eden

  I would never trust a woman again.

  Not worth it.

  I headed back to the Gators headquarters, where I conducted most of my business. Located in a high-rise, I keyed in my code and made my way up to the fifty-second floor in my private elevator.

  As I set foot into the Gators office, everybody perked up.

  The boss was in.

  I passed a couple of women smiling in my direction, while men nodded in respect through the glass-plated walls of their offices.

  Power was good.

  Walking into my spacious office which overlooked the scenic oceanfront, I was determined to dig up dirt on Marla. I had a million other projects that demanded my attention, but I didn’t care.

  “Get Mitch on the phone for me, Donna,” I said to my secretary, taking off my jacket and throwing it on one of the leather high back chairs in front of my desk.

  “You got it. Want some coffee?” she asked as I paced back and forth, trying to get a hold of myself.

  Marla had me all whipped up. I could barely think straight.

  “Sure.” I ran my hand through my hair, trying to settle my jets, wondering why that girl always got under my skin.

  Donna brought me a cup of Joe, moseying in as if she had all the time in the world. She was in her mid-fifties, with her red hair in a French twist, dressed like she was Peggy on the show Mad Men. She wasn’t crazy about technology, but she was the best damn secretary I could ask for —sharp as a tack, didn’t miss much, and she kept things running smoothly. Just what I liked.

  “What’s got you all worked up?” she asked as she watched me pace.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she said, studying me with her perceptive light blue gaze. “I bet it’s a woman.”

  “It might be...but you’ll never know,” I fired off.

  She just narrowed her gaze at me. “Smart ass.”

  I grinned. “You always keep it real, Donna.”

  “Someone has to,” she shot back with a grin, turning around and heading toward the front of the office. A couple of seconds later, she shouted, “Mitch on line one,” as I grabbed the phone and sat down behind my big mahogany desk.

  “What do you need?” my head of security asked as soon as he heard my voice.

  “I need you to do some research for me.”

  “On who?”

  “Marla Matthews. I want everything on her. Leave no stone unturned.”

  “Got it boss.”

  I slammed down the phone and sat back in my black leather office chair. I lit a cigar, put my feet on my desk, and thought about what had just happened.

  Goddamn Marla Matthews.

  Still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

  Curvy, sensuous, and hot.

  She still had it after all these years.

  Twenty-two goddamn years.

  I figured she’d be married with two kids by now.

  But she’d been at the party all by herself.

  Why?

  It didn’t make sense.

  I needed to know why she wasn’t married and being taken care of by another man. My gut clenched as I thought about the last time I saw her. She said some horrible things which I would never forgive her for.

  I had been completely fooled by her innocent do-gooder act. But underneath her sweet veneer was a heartless woman who didn’t give a shit about anyone.

  Least of all, me.

  When I’d lived in Toronto, it’d been easier to put her into the back of my mind. Granted, I had been fucked up for many years, but still, I couldn’t see her because she was thousands of miles away.

  However, here in Baltimore, it was hard to resist the temptation of knowing her every move. I could almost breathe her in. No matter where I went.

  I knew I would run into her eventually. Still, it had been a shock to my system, watching her stare at me like she was seeing a ghost.

  FUCK! I couldn’t believe I still wanted to know what was going on in her life. It tore me up and I hated that she brought out so much emotion in me.

  It hadn’t always been like this.

  My first impression of Marla, when I’d seen her in the library all those years ago was that she was pretty but a stick in the mud. I remember her being a little frumpy in her overalls and plaid shirt.

  Then she got all feisty with me when I showed no interest in that stupid paper on Jane Eyre for that damn Honors English class my dad pushed me into. Her big, brown doe eyes had flashed with anger when I called her boring.

  Most girls would have twirled their hair and tried to win me over with a giggle and a smile.

  Not Marla.

  With tears in her eyes, she told me off without a second thought. So much passion in each word as she angrily picked up her notebook from the library table.

  Whoa. She had all of my attention as she stalked off, while I sat back wondering who she was.

  How had I not noticed her before?

  The sweet, brown eyes.

  The long lashes which gave her an innocent, come-hither stare.

  And that backside.

  Heart-shaped.

  Generous.

  Hips for days.

  Damn, I got a woody just watching her walk away.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Marla:

  “Not a very good beginning was it?” I asked Grace as I sipped my tea.

  “Oh, there was plenty of passion in that little exchange. I can only imagine what came next,” she surmised, filling her cup with more tea.

  The aroma of black currant swirled over me. “Do you really want to know what happened next?” I asked, wondering if my story was worth telling.

  Her green, almond-shaped eyes twinkled in excitement. “Of course I do! This is so exciting. I want to know everything.”

  “All right,” I said warming to the idea of sharing all the sordid details of my high school romance. “The next day, to my surprise, Beau approached me at my locker. I was still fuming, so I wasn’t very nice to him.”

  I eyed him suspiciously, as he leaned casually against the grey metal locker next to mine. “What could you possibly want? Are you back to tell me how bored you are?” I asked sarcastically as I threw my books into my locker with a bang.

  He wasn’t fazed by my anger. “Ah, come on, Sunshine. You can’t be mad at me forever. I’m here to make it up to you.”

  I narrowed my gaze at him, trying to figure out what he was really up to. I briefly looked past him, wondering if he was trying to pull a mean prank.

  Nothing seemed out of place, but I was still on guard.

  He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as his blue gaze turned sincere. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You were right. English isn’t my favorite class and I didn’t want to be there. But, I talked to Ms. Sprite this morning and she said you were my best bet to pass her class.”

  I scoffed openly as I tossed my math book into my pink backpack. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

  His smirk was back, his charm in full effect. “Yep. I mean it, I swear.”

  “So it’s okay to be rude and mean to people in your world, but just apologize and everything’s okay?”

  “I wasn’t mean,” he said, looking surprised.

  “Oh, yeah, you were most definitely mean and frankly, I’m not interested. Thank you for the apology, but this just isn’t going to work. I’m sure Ms. Sprite can find someone else to tutor you.”

  “I don’t want to work with anyone else. Besides, Ms. Sprite asked you to help me.”

  I studied him, gazing into his serious face. “You don’t want to work with anyone else? What’s changed since yesterday?”

  He shot me a lopsided grin as his blue eyes lit up brightly. “I’ve seen your smarts, Marla Matthews. I know I’m in good hands.”

  Oh god, he was using flattery to get me to do what he wanted.

  No way was that happening.

  I smiled half-heartedly. “Thanks for the compliment, bu
t the answer is still no,” I said closing my locker.

  “Really? Why not?” he asked boldly, even though his gaze flickered with vulnerability.

  I sighed, deciding to level with him. “Look, I did this as a favor for Ms. Sprite, but I’m not interested in having my time wasted or my feelings hurt because you can’t, or won’t do your paper on your own.”

  “Ouch,” he said as his charming veneer fell away and a hurt expression entered his gaze.

  I cringed a little and tried to make it better. “I’m not trying to be mean here, Beau. I’m sure you’re lovely when you don’t have to work on English, but I can’t afford to take that chance. So the answer is no and now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to math class.”

  His mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out as I brushed by him, wincing at the disappointment crossing his face.

  Slight guilt washed over me as I walked down the hall, but the relief was stronger. I reminded myself I was putting a bad situation behind me. I didn’t need to be around jerky boys. I knew how cruel they could be.

  Two words: Bobby Hendricks.

  He was a popular senior boy who started paying attention to me when I was a freshman. Blessed with honey brown hair and a Brad Pitt smile, he was hard to resist.

  He reeled me in a little at a time as he started saying hello to me in the hall, which progressed to him stopping me and saying, “Marla, right?” as he shot me a winning grin.

  I didn’t think much of it at first.

  Until he stepped up his pursuit.

  He began waiting for me after class and even put his arm around me as I walked down the hall.

  Of course, I was flattered, giddy even. An older boy was flirting with me. It didn’t ever occur to me that this was all a set up.

  It all came to a vicious head one day.

  He cornered me at my locker, running his hands through my hair, acting as if he was really into me.

  Just when I thought he was going to kiss me, he leaned in close. “Do you really think I would kiss you?” he asked in horror, his friends appearing out of nowhere.

  A flash went off in my face as I heard the familiar click of a Polaroid picture being taken. The boys’ mocking laugher filled my ears as I nodded dumbly, stunned by his malicious tone.

  “Gross,” he let out with a maniacal laugh and walked away.

  Humiliated, I wanted to crawl into my locker and never come out.

  I have never understood how people can be so cruel, especially just for kicks. It was later on I found out, I was part of a bet to see who could get an ugly girl to like them.

  Yep, that was me in ninth grade.

  The ugly duckling.

  I still had my braces on; I hadn’t really developed and my eyes were too big for my face. On top of that, I was dealing with the stressful and sad situation of watching my mom die from cancer. Keeping up on the latest trends and making sure I looked good every day wasn’t high on my priority list.

  It took another year for me to grow into my face, but the damage was done.

  I was hurt and humiliated. Scarred, really.

  I guess I was lucky he didn’t try anything worse.

  From that moment on boys were off limits.

  I remained suspicious and wary of the male sex, even as I went into my senior year of high school. I didn’t have much to do with them as I put my head down and excelled at my studies.

  So, it was easy to dismiss Beau and walk away, even though he’d apologized. I reminded myself it had been hard enough to meet with him and deal with his crappy attitude.

  He had ruined his one and only chance to work with me.

  Beyond that, he was all risk.

  Scary.

  Edgy.

  Vibrating with an energy I found dangerous.

  I had no desire to venture out of my comfort zone.

  So I let him slip from my mind as I grabbed my seat and got out my trig book and notes. Class started and I got absorbed in my math work.

  Before I knew it, trig was over and I was on my way to biology. After that was English, the class right before lunch. I was sorta dreading it as it was my one and only class with Beau.

  I entered the dreary classroom, which mirrored every other room in the school. Flat, thick, white cement blocked walls that resembled a prison with small windows up top, just enough to let in light.

  With no air conditioning, the school always ran hot, which contributed to the room smelling like a combination of chalk, sweaty teenagers, and whatever the cafeteria was serving for the day.

  Ignoring the aroma in the air, I passed Beau on my way in, determined to avoid him as I took my seat in the first row.

  “Okay, people. Settle down,” Ms. Sprite ordered as the bell rang.

  “Today, we’re going to get into partners and discuss how Jane Eyre’s passionate nature is established in the novel. I’ve already picked out your partners, so I don’t want to hear any complaints. Listen for your name...”

  A collective groan went through the room as Ms. Sprite began calling out partners. The screech of desks scooting across the floor filled the cinder block room as names were rattled off.

  Not particularly concerned about the assignment, I was glancing over my notes as I heard, “Marla Matthews and Beau Shepard.”

  “Ugh,” I muttered under my breath, caught off guard.

  What the hell?

  Did that woman have no shame?

  I glanced back at Beau. “Come on over, Sunshine,” he called happily from across the room, motioning me over.

  I sat still for a second, contemplating my options. I could insist on a different partner or I could muddle through with Beau.

  Neither choice appealed to me.

  Furthermore, I was pretty sure Mrs. Sprite wasn’t willing to let me switch things up. She seemed determined to make us work together.

  Crap, I was just going to have to suck it up and suffer through.

  Resigned to my fate, I picked up my backpack to move as Ashley DeGraw shot me a cold stare. Great, now I had the meanest, most popular girl in school shooting daggers at me because I was working with Beau.

  Just what I needed.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” I said, sliding my desk in Beau’s direction.

  “Cheer up, Sunshine. You could be working with Dusty over there.” He pointed to the other side of the room to a goofy looking kid known for weird outbursts. “I hear he picks his nose.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Good to know. I guess there’s an upside to working with you.”

  He laughed. “That’s a first. Most ladies would be happy to work with me.”

  “Why’s that? Your sparkling personality?” I fired back.

  He grinned again, blowing on his fingers and polishing them against his grey T-shirt. “No, it’s for my awesome good looks.”

  I laughed despite my desire to stay detached. “All right, Shepard. Let’s get to work.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait,” he let out on a heavy sigh.

  “I guess it’s good that at least one of us read Jane Eyre.”

  He twirled his finger in the air. “Whoo-hoo.”

  “You have no idea what a good story this is.”

  “Is it really that good, Sunshine? I just couldn’t get over all the angsty words they use.”

  I grinned at his use of angst. “Did you try to read it?”

  “I took another crack at it. But I still didn’t get very far.”

  “Okay, then, let me fill you in on poor Jane Eyre. She’s an orphan. One that life has not been kind to. She lives with her mean aunt and cruel cousins who make her life miserable. Eventually, when she’s a little older, she is sent away to school. It’s not much better than her aunt’s house, but she does make a couple of friends she loves dearly. After a while, one of her friends dies and the other marries, and Jane decides to leave the school.”

  He crossed his lanky arms. “Doesn’t sound so great.”

  “Well, give it chance. This is where it gets
interesting. She gets a governess job at Thornfield and meets the passionate demanding master of the house, Edward Fairfax Rochester, whom Jane finds attractive and fascinating.”

  “Yeah, still not working for me.”

  He was starting to irritate me and I didn’t like him bashing the book. “Would you just stop with the comments? You don’t have to like the story, but you do need to know it.”

  He stared back for a long second. “All right, Sunshine. Tell me the rest.”

  “Jane saves Mr. Rochester one night when she notices smoke and flames coming from his room. She puts out the fire which was about to take him out.”

  “A little action. That’s good.”

  I just couldn’t contain my excitement for this story anymore. “This is where the mystery begins. Who is trying to harm Edward? He tries to convince Jane a servant has set out to kill him, but she has her suspicions that it’s someone else.”

  “Oooh...” he supplied sarcastically.

  I just frowned at him. “Anyway, while Jane is trying to solve the mystery, Mr. Rochester also appears to be pursuing a woman, Blanche, who is a similar class to him while Jane quietly holds her love for him in. Jane knows that Mr. Rochester doesn’t care for Blanche, but she can’t do anything about it. Meanwhile, Rochester always seems to be aware of Jane’s every move, wanting to be near her and talk to her. Hence the angst and passion of the story.”

  His gaze crinkled up in amusement. “Sunshine, you sure do get excited about this book.”

  “I know. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  “So based on what I just told you, why do you think Jane is such an impassioned girl?”

  “Uuhh... I don’t know.” He shrugged, playing the dumb card as he looked away.

  That wasn’t gonna cut it. “Come on. Think about it. Give me a real answer.” I stared at him, willing him to be serious for a moment.

  He took off his Baltimore Gators ball cap for a second and scratched his head. “Okay...Sounds like she had a tough childhood. Something had to keep her going.”

  “Yeah, she had a rough go of it.”

  “Her passion kept her going, even though no one was rooting for her. Sounds kind of like me and my dad.”

  “Your dad?”

  “Yeah, he’s a real hard ass.” A depth of pain appeared in his gaze for a moment, making me realize Beau’s life wasn’t a walk in the park.