How to Seduce a Billionaire

by Portia Da Costa

  The maître d’hôtel guided her to a table by the window, overlooking a pretty ornamental garden, complete with pond. Billionaire businessmen could obviously score the best spot in the room at next to no notice, and Jess was glad of the table’s combination of secluded intimacy and a prime view of the rest of the room and the other diners.

  After the ritual of tasting and approving, she took a long, grateful sip of her champagne. As glorious as the venue, it was spectacularly delicious. Crisp and buttery and complex. It danced on the tongue, heady and potent, yet slipping down with dangerous ease.

  Don’t get legless. Just let it take the edge off the jitters.

  To keep from devoting herself to nervous drinking, Jess people watched. The diners were almost exclusively couples. Some of them were upscale, wearing clothes that were obviously expensive, but others were surprisingly informally dressed. Jess relaxed a bit. Her pink silk, medium heels and casual hairstyle fitted nicely somewhere in the middle.

  A lot of the couples were gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling ‘those’ smiles at each other. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the way her own evening might go, Jess would have played a game of ‘who’s going to end up in bed together tonight and how soon’, to pass the time.

  Her attention was drawn to a sophisticated young woman, seated at another premier table. She had startling black hair and wore a beautiful vintage dress. Her companion at the table was an older man, and they were totally into each other, it was clear from across the room. He put his hand over hers, the touch light yet meaningful, and they laughed together, blissfully easy and comfortable in each other’s company.

  I wish I was at that stage with Ellis McKenna.

  But that was pie in the sky, she reminded herself. Odds were that they’d never get there and it was madness to think beyond tonight or, at best, a couple of discreet assignations in luxurious hotel rooms.

  Nothing wrong with that. Accept things for what they are … and make the most of it!

  She had a shrewd idea that she was the only virgin in the room though.

  Five minutes passed. Then ten. It wasn’t easy to pace herself with the sublime champagne, but she tried. What if he didn’t come? What if she’d been stood up, and the maître d’ came gliding up to the table any minute now, with whispered apologies?

  Well, sod it. I’ll have a meal here anyway. Even if I have to pay for myself!

  Just as she thought that, a rustle of interested voices shattered her fears. Her attention shot to the doorway.

  Oh Lord … Oh Lord …

  Gone was the beach bum, and in his place a god of sophistication and sex approached. Ellis, in a glorious dark grey-blue three-piece suit, still lightweight, but cut slightly more sharply. No tie. A white shirt with narrow, impressionistic stripes in two toning shades of blue. And unless she was very much mistaken, he was wearing socks this time, a couple of shades lighter than his suit.

  His dark hair was combed back more smoothly tonight too, emphasising his broad, imperious brow.

  Jess logged all this in a split second, for future reference, despite being half-stunned by his glamour.

  ‘Jess … I’m so very sorry for keeping you waiting. Please forgive me.’ As he reached the table, he moved right beside her and lightly kissed her cheek before taking his seat.

  Jess touched her cheek. It felt like he’d done something to her skin there, changed it forever. He’d taken her ‘cheek’ virginity … no, that was a stupid notion! Was she squiffy already?

  But he’d bestowed the kiss completely naturally, as if they were established lovers, just like so many others in this beautiful, luxurious room.

  ‘No problem … It’s very nice here, and the champagne is gorgeous. Thank you …’

  Laughing inside at herself for some kind of star-struck fool, but also strangely unashamed of it, she gazed at him. Met his smile. He seemed pleased with the way she’d revealed herself, touching her cheek like that, but, hey, he was a man and that was the way they were. Why take offence when he was making no attempt to hide how happy he was to see her?

  ‘Good! I’m parched. I’m looking forward to a glass of that myself.’ He filled a flute, and topped hers up. ‘What shall we drink to?’ He lifted his glass to hers.

  ‘I don’t know … Just a pleasant evening, I guess?’

  ‘Indeed. And more than pleasant, I hope.’ His sea-blue eyes glittered, making her far dizzier than the champagne ever could.

  They clinked their glasses. Jess managed not to shake and to drink her gorgeous wine like a normal person. Well, almost normal …

  ‘I … I don’t know why I’m here,’ she blurted out. ‘Why did you ask me? You don’t know me, and I’m sure I’m not your usual type.’

  As she put down her glass, Ellis reached out and laid his hand over hers. ‘I don’t have a type, Jess,’ he said, his voice soft, and strangely kind. ‘You’re here because you’re a beautiful, interesting woman and I’d like to spend time with you. Time when we can just be two people enjoying each other’s company, rather than boss and employee. Although, technically, I’m not your boss. I own the company, but Jacobson and his team still run Windsor.’

  ‘So, do you make a habit of floating in from your exalted realm now and again to select interesting women?’

  He laughed again, that sweet, young sound. Women at adjacent tables looked around, and Jess’s spirits soared. These glamorous sophisticates who dined at high end restaurants all the time, they were jealous of her!

  ‘You make it sound like a bad thing.’ He beamed at her. ‘I want you to have a lovely evening, Jess, and I’ll do everything I can to ensure that.’ He was still holding her hand, and his thumb moved evocatively against her palm, caressing her. The back of her neck prickled as if the little hairs there might be standing up, and she almost laughed. Apparently that wasn’t just a cliché in books after all. It actually happened.

  ‘I believe you … I think.’ She tried to do a smile, like the sophisticated women did, hoping it didn’t turn out goofy.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Ellis’s smile was sophisticated. But then, he had a lot of practice at it, presumably.

  Jess opened her mouth to answer, but when Ellis’s attention flicked away from her, she realised the maître d’ had arrived. Saved by the menus! She wasn’t sure she did trust Ellis, but telling him that without sounding like a ninny would have been difficult.

  The menus were huge, but the selection of dishes was relatively small. All good stuff though, mostly classic French, but some tempting traditional English fare too, yum yum. Choosing would’ve have been a nice diversion from awkward questions, but one dish leapt out at her.

  ‘Mmm … chicken pie. Would you think I was awfully unsophisticated if I opted for that?’

  Jess just stopped her jaw from dropping. Was Ellis reading her mind? Listening to her idiotic musings on sophistication or lack of it? ‘No, actually, I was just going to choose that myself. Sounds divine … Well, it all looks fab, but that’s what I really fancy.’

  ‘Brilliant! We’re already on the same wavelength,’ he said, his eyes challenging her again. They were back to trust country again. ‘How about a starter?’

  Her appetite was alive and kicking, surprisingly, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to eat too much … be too stuffed … if there were to be ‘afters’ after the afters. ‘Well, they all look good, but I think I’d just like the pie, please.’

  ‘Good idea.’ He quirked his eyebrows at her, as if he’d heard this inner debate too. He lifted a finger, and the maître d’ came gliding back to them. ‘Chicken pie for two, please.’ His eyes were still on Jess. ‘Selection of vegetables? And chips?’ She nodded. ‘More wine?’

  ‘I think I’m okay with what we’ve got, thanks.’

  ‘Smart woman.’

  Then they were alone again. What now?

  ‘So, why Windsor? What drew you to insurance?’

  Yuck, work talk. Hadn’t he said they were getting away from
that? Or, bizarrely, was he actually a bit nervous himself? Not as much as she was, but still, it almost seemed that way.

  ‘I needed a job. There were vacancies. I could do the work. It’s not too far from where I live. I just happened into it, as simple as that.’

  Which was true. She’d been lucky in these times. With her employment history, a lot of other people would still be searching.

  ‘No burning need to ensure the Great British Public get the policies they need then?’ He took a sip of his wine, everything about him teasing.

  ‘Don’t make fun. You’ve bought the company. You must think it has some value.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It seems a well-run operation. A good acquisition.’ For a moment, he looked serious, like Mr Business, then his beautiful mouth curved. ‘It’s just you. You seem as if you ought to be doing something different. Something a bit more “out there”, you know? Something more imaginative.’

  I would. But I had commitments. I owed someone big time. Someone I loved.

  ‘Well, I did have plans once, but life, you know … sometimes it has plans for you that you didn’t foresee.’ She reached for her wine, took a fortifying sip. ‘I’m not complaining. Far from it. But I had to do something, and it put me on a different track.’

  Ellis reached for her hand again, squeezed it gently. ‘You don’t want to talk about it, do you? That’s okay. There’ll be another time. Let’s just stay on the light stuff, shall we? Where do you live? What do you do for fun? What about friends?’

  God, that was almost as problematical. He’d probably think she was a sad little thing, with her quiet life, and rarely a boyfriend. And never really a sniff of sex, even though that was entirely her own choice. Her being particular and holding out for an ideal that probably didn’t exist.

  But … Ellis had said another time. Which suggested there might be another date after this one?

  ‘Well, I just live a quiet life, you know? I share a house with another girl, and we’re good friends. Sometimes we go out to the pictures, or for pizza, or just for a drink. Although not lately, because she’s got a steady bloke. I see a couple of girls from work for girly nights out occasionally, but it’s not really a regular thing.’ I’m babbling again, yattering on like a fool. ‘I love to read. I love television … good stuff … not rubbish. Documentaries etc. I go to an evening class too.’

  ‘What are you studying?’ His voice was intent, as if he really cared. Either that or he was a supreme social animal, able to feign a believable simulation of interest where none existed.

  ‘It’s an art class.’ She didn’t really want to tell him it was life drawing. Not yet, at least.

  ‘I knew it! That’s your thing, isn’t it? What you should really be, rather than working in insurance. There’s this certain quality about you, as if you’re looking at things in a way most normal people wouldn’t.’

  That was true too. But who else would have noticed that?

  ‘I just draw a bit. I’m not that good.’

  ‘Oh, I bet you are. Did you go to art college? Were those the plans you had to abandon?’

  Jess never really talked about the twists and turns of her life much, but suddenly, she wanted to. Even with this man, in this situation.

  ‘Yes, they were actually … but like I said, life happened.’

  ‘Tell me. I want to know …’ Something of a shadow passed over him, and he started twisting his wedding ring around. Jess had a shrewd idea that he didn’t even realise he was doing it. ‘I’m interested in how people deal with life … and its happenings.’

  Jess faltered at first, but gradually, inexorably, it became easier to talk. Ellis seemed to have slipped into a quiet, receptive mode, passively encouraging now, rather than jabbing in with questions. She found herself telling him about the death of her parents when she was a child. How her granny had taken her and her sister in, caring for them with a deep and generous love, and then, when the tables had tilted, and dementia had struck, how Jess had taken time out of her life to pay back the love she’d been given, nursing Gran until she’d just been too ill to care for adequately at home, and she’d had to spend her last years in the best private care establishment Jess could afford.

  ‘You put your life on hold,’ said Ellis quietly, after their food had been served. ‘That’s a beautiful thing, Jess. A lot of people wouldn’t have done it.’

  ‘I couldn’t have done anything else,’ she replied. It was a fact. She’d never even considered any other path. ‘Of course, I stormed about it inside quite a bit. I’m only human. But she was so wonderful to me and Mel. She deserved to be cared for in return.’

  ‘And so you never got to go to art school, yet your sister got a shot at university? That’s hardly fair.’

  ‘I don’t begrudge her it. She’s smart. Much cleverer than me. And art is something I can still do without formal training. I don’t need it to be my job or anything, does that make sense? In fact it’s better if it isn’t my job. It’s fun. It’s a bit of a laugh sometimes.’ She paused, and chewed a fork full of pie. Damn, it was good! ‘And you’d probably laugh too if you saw some of my efforts.’

  ‘That, I would really like.’ He paused to top up her glass, although she’d noticed that after one small glass himself, he’d switched to water. ‘I’m not an art expert or anything, but I would like to build a bit of a collection of things that I like. No particular style … just what appeals to me. Do you show your work?’

  Jess giggled. Uh oh, had she already had too much fizz? ‘I told you, it’s really not that good. Like I said, it’s just a fun thing. A hobby.’

  ‘Seriously though, I would like to see your work.’ His sea-blue eyes narrowed. ‘And before you say anything, I’m not patronising you. I really am interested.’

  ‘Okay … perhaps I could send you something?’

  ‘Why send? Why not just show?’

  ‘I … well … I suppose I wasn’t expecting to see you again after tonight.’

  Ellis picked up his knife and fork, and stabbed determinedly at his food. ‘Well, at the risk of sounding like a domineering martinet, you will be seeing me again, Miss Lockhart. I insist on it!’ He softened the decree with a grin.

  Jess’s innards trembled a bit. Her appetite wavered. She focused in on her plate, the food, the moment.

  Don’t look ahead … not even further than this … and especially not … later …

  ‘So, what’s your speciality?’ asked Ellis, his voice crisp, as if he was changing the subject without changing it. ‘Still life, landscapes, figure drawing?’ His long lashes swept down. ‘Life drawing?’

  Oh, those penises …

  ‘Yes, I do life drawing. And before you ask, I draw naked men. In fact that’s the class I’m taking at the moment and, at least fifty per cent of the time, the models are male.’ She kept her chin up, challenging him to challenge her. ‘I’ve dabbled a bit in various forms and styles, but I like life drawing best of all, if you must know.’

  ‘Really.’ His eyes flashed, and he pushed away his plate, nearly empty. Jess looked down at her own, mainly because she could feel a wild blush warming her cheeks, and discovered she’d eaten all her own dinner too. ‘Dessert?’ he asked, but she had a feeling he was asking something else entirely.

  ‘Thanks, but I think I’d just like coffee instead, if you don’t mind? But you have some. I’ll bet the puds here are something else.’

  He blotted his lips with his table napkin, then dropped it beside his plate. ‘Coffee sounds good. Shall we take it in the bar? We could find a nice secluded corner. I’d really like to hear more about this life drawing.’

  I’ll bet you would.

  A few minutes later, they’d found that corner. La Girandole was part of Green’s, the best hotel in the city centre, and the bar was on the rooftop, commanding a dazzling view of the lights, the traffic and the ebb and flow of the nightlife below.

  Jess got in first. ‘Look, just because I’m a virgin, it doesn’t mean I faint a
t the sight of the male body. I can look at a … a cock without having a fit of the vapours.’

  ‘I hope you won’t faint at the sight of mine.’ Ellis reached for his demitasse.

  Ah, here we go …

  ‘It depends on how big it is.’ She’d been doubtful when Ellis had suggested she have a brandy, but she reached for her glass now, and sipped carefully. Aromatic fire bloomed inside her, meeting and matching a different fire, a different bloom. ‘Most of the guys at life class are about average.’ The temptation to glance away, blushing harder, was almost a compulsion, but she resisted. Ellis’s eyes were dancing.

  ‘I guess I’m average.’ He shrugged, then grinned like a schoolboy. ‘On the bigger side of average.’

  ‘Well, you would say that. All men like to think they’re big.’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ Ellis drank some coffee, then licked the trace of it from his lower lip. The fire flared, almost roared. ‘And if you are what you say you are, who are all these men you’ve discussed cock dimensions with? Surely the issue doesn’t “arise”’ – he rolled his eyes, having the grace to look shame-faced – ‘if you never go to bed with them?’

  ‘I was speaking generally.’ General nonsense. Due to too much champagne and brandy. Too much Ellis McKenna.

  Setting his cup aside, he reached for her hand. ‘Why are you a virgin, Jess? You’re intelligent and beautiful. Compassionate. And certainly sensual … Is this something else you put on hold? It’s unusual for a woman, well, in her twenties.’

  ‘I’m thirty in two months.’

  Ellis frowned. What, disappointed because she wasn’t young and fresh, even though she was a virgin?

  ‘Look, forgive me. If it’s some religious or ethical choice, forget I ever said anything. I’ll shut up and never mention it again. I’m just a clod of a man, thinking with his dick, like we all do.’

  Part of her wanted to pull her hand away from his grip; part of her loved it. The warmth, the promise; the strange sense of safety. She looked around the softly lit room. Were any of the other patrons aware of the tumult inside her? It seemed not. Nobody was even looking their way.