Married for the Tycoon's Empire

by Abby Green

  Every delicacy was available. and she found herself gravitating towards the local fare, much to the chef’s obvious pleasure, as he explained exactly what everything was.

  Ben took their plates and Lia picked up their drinks. He guided her over to one of the many small round tables laid out for guests to eat at with ease. It was idyllic, with hundreds of candles flickering and the sparkling lights of the city below them. A jazz band played on a dais in the corner.

  After they’d eaten a little, Ben sat back. ‘You can admit it—you won’t self-combust, I promise.’

  She looked at him and knew instantly what he meant. A small, slightly smug smile was playing around that far too gorgeous mouth and something inside her just...melted. Also, far more disturbingly, that giddy reckless feeling was back. In the white shirt, open at the neck, he was astonishingly handsome. And the fact that he hadn’t pushed her was working in his favour. Damn him.

  She picked up a small morsel of cheese from her plate and threw it at him, saying grudgingly, ‘Fine. Yes, I’ll admit it. I’m glad I came to the party and I’m enjoying myself.’

  He flicked the cheese off his shoulder and leaned towards her. ‘It’s polite to say thank you, you know.’

  She could read very well in his expression how he might suggest being thanked, and for a second Lia desperately wished she had the confidence to pull him closer, so she could explore that mouth... She snapped her gaze back up to his, feeling hot. The thought made a spike of pleasure arrow between her legs, and she said, far too breathily, ‘Don’t push it, Ben.’

  He just looked at her for a long moment. ‘I won’t...for now.’

  And right then Lia’s belly swooped, because in all honesty she wasn’t sure if she could hold him back for much longer. Or if she wanted to.

  * * *

  ‘He’s quite a specimen, isn’t he?’

  Lia jumped, and blushed when she realised that she’d been spotted ogling Ben—who was standing head and shoulders above everyone else in the crowd—by one of their hosts, Ricardo. The impressive sight of Ben had stalled her momentarily.

  The handsome grey-haired Italian who she’d discovered owned several of Brazil’s most luxurious hotels was looking at her now, assessingly.

  ‘I...yes, I guess he’s handsome,’ Lia said weakly.

  The other man snorted inelegantly. ‘Cara, he’s certifiably one of the sexiest men on the planet, and right now I am jealous of you.’

  Lia hid her discomfiture and smiled. ‘Better not let Luis hear you say that.’

  Ricardo waved a dismissive hand. ‘Lusting after someone isn’t a crime.’

  Lia was curious now. ‘How do you two know Ben?’

  ‘Oh, we’ve known Ben since he started out, more or less. When he first set up his company we were among his first clients. We’ve always been interested in fresh new talent, and we’d seen some of his work in Manhattan. It’s really amazing what he’s achieved, considering the fact that he was once heir to one of America’s biggest fortunes.’

  Lia frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  He looked at her, incredulous. ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  Ricardo looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘Ben was born into American royalty—more or less. His father was Jonathan Carter, the man who practically owned Wall Street until it was revealed that he’d been defrauding clients and the market for years. Ben went from living in a mansion on the Upper East Side to a one-bedroomed shack in Queens overnight.’

  Shock and disbelief reverberated through Lia as she looked across the crowd again at that broad back. Of course she knew who Jonathan Carter was—his name was synonymous with the global financial crisis, and much of the blame had been apportioned to him.

  Just then Ben turned around, and his blue gaze lasered straight onto her. She felt the pull all the way across the room.

  From beside her, Ricardo said mournfully, ‘What I wouldn’t give for him to look at me like that.’

  Lia forced a smile and made her way back across the room, feeling seriously confused after Ricardo’s revelation. She thought back to when it had happened and figured that Ben must have been only in his early teens—if that.

  When she got closer, she saw that a very glamorous woman beside Ben had a hand on his arm. She embodied dark-eyed sultry Brazilian sexiness, with generous curves that defied gravity. Immediately Lia felt a surge of something almost violent, and when Ben pulled her close to him with his free arm she found herself revelling in the proprietorial gesture.

  The other woman’s eyes flashed with displeasure, but she blasted Lia with a fake smile and walked away. Suddenly aware that she was acting very much out of character, Lia tried to pull away—but Ben wouldn’t let her, turning so that she was pressed to his front.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She looked up at him. What Ricardo had told her was making her feel off-centre. He really had built himself up from nothing. After having had everything.

  ‘I’m thinking that it’s time to go home.’

  Lia looked around, momentarily disorientated, and realised that the crowd had thinned out substantially. It was a lot later than she’d realised. She looked back to Ben, feeling hot when she noticed the growth of stubble on his jaw. He was so masculine. And there was so much more to him than she’d ever given him credit for. He wasn’t the only one who was guilty of prejudice.

  ‘Okay.’ Her voice was husky. ‘Let’s go.’

  He took her hand to lead her out, and as they said goodbye to their hosts Lia felt genuine emotion at the thought that she probably wouldn’t meet them again. She’d enjoyed herself more than she’d expected. She’d had fun.

  Once back in Ben’s Jeep, she kicked off her sandals and stretched out her feet. She couldn’t help sneaking glances at his profile, stern in the shadows of the car.

  As they left the city behind them, Ben asked lightly, ‘So, what were you and Ricardo talking about?’

  Lia tensed, feeling guilty even though she knew it was irrational. She could have found out about his past if she’d dug a little deeper. Her own innate sense of honesty made her say, ‘I didn’t know that your father was Jonathan Carter.’

  Ben’s hand on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles showing white. ‘I should have guessed Ricardo wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to gossip.’

  Lia turned in her seat and rushed to defend the man. ‘It wasn’t like that. I asked him how he knew you and he happened to mention—’ She stopped, recalling the exact words. Maybe Ben’s friend had been a little gossipy.

  Ben said dryly, ‘Do go on.’

  Lia swallowed. ‘He just mentioned that he thought it was amazing, all you’d achieved, considering how your family had lost everything.’ When Ben didn’t respond, Lia said, ‘It’s not exactly common knowledge.’

  He glanced at her. ‘You mean because it didn’t come up when you did an internet search on me?’

  She turned back to face the front and said hotly, ‘That’s hardly fair. You knew exactly who I was when you asked the matchmaker to set us up.’

  Tension thickened in the intimate space of the car, and then Ben said with evident reluctance, ‘The reason why my past doesn’t always come up is because people choose to forget what’s not relevant any more. It’s old news.’ His lips twisted. ‘Especially after my father had the temerity to die in relative squalor and solitude with my mother following him a year later. I guess they figured he’d paid his dues.’

  Sensing he wouldn’t appreciate platitudes, Lia just asked, ‘How did they die?’

  ‘My father drank himself to death. He’d always been a heavy drinker—albeit of fine whiskies, when he could afford them. The cheaper stuff didn’t suit his system so well. And my mother had a heart attack. She couldn’t come to terms with what the real world looked like.’

  Lia was silent, absorbing the enormity of what he’d just revealed. ‘That’s why you don’t drink?’

  He nodded, the lines of his face stern. Lia
figured it was no surprise, after seeing his father poison himself. She knew enough about him now to know that he would consider that an immense failing in personal control.

  She could imagine him as a young boy—handsome and privileged, no doubt attending the best schools, with his future mapped out. The world at his feet. Only to have it ripped apart and the grim reality of how things really were revealed. No wonder he’d thought he had her all summed up.

  Sensing he’d appreciate a change in subject, she asked, ‘So why Brazil? Do you have a special connection to here?’

  Ben glanced at her again and she caught the gleam of something wry in his expression. ‘Did Ricardo stop gossiping long enough to answer your actual question?’

  Lia frowned. ‘He said that he’d seen some of your work in Manhattan...’

  ‘Yes, and then he approached me with an offer to bid for the work on one of his hotels in Brazil. It was just when my company was starting to break even.’

  ‘How old were you?’ Lia asked.

  Ben shrugged minutely. ‘About twenty-five.’

  Lia held in her shock. Some achievement, indeed. Clearly he’d been very driven, and questions abounded in her head as to what had happened after his mother had died. She knew what everyone else knew, about the foster homes, but how had he crawled out of that to achieve such meteoric success?

  Ben continued. ‘I went down to Bahia to see the site, and after a meeting Ricardo signed me up then and there. After completing the job I realised I’d come to love the place—it was like a breath of fresh air. Different, vibrant. Unstuffy. So I decided that I’d build a holiday home there. My family used to have a house in North Shore on Long Island. The community there, who had once been like family, completely ostracised us when my father lost everything. But as soon as I started to make a name for myself, some of my father’s old cronies came out of the woodwork, as if nothing had happened. The last place I wanted to be was back in that stuffy environment.’

  Lia could hear the bitterness in Ben’s voice and read between the lines. Where had those ‘friends’ been when he’d been alone and defenceless?

  Lia said lightly, ‘Sounds like you made the right decision.’

  She could feel him looking at her, but she didn’t want him to see the mix of emotions she was trying to hide. She’d felt off-kilter from the moment she’d laid eyes on this man, and now it was even worse.

  When Ben drove through the gates leading to his villa a short while later, Lia realised she’d been engrossed in her own circling thoughts. Ben got out of the driver’s side and came around to help Lia out—the perfect gentleman. She only realised her feet were still bare when they hit the sharp gravel and she let out a squeak.

  Before she knew what was happening she was being lifted into Ben’s arms and he was striding into the villa as if she weighed nothing.

  ‘You don’t have to carry me,’ she said, but it was too late. They were inside, and he was putting her down.

  Her head was whirling. She couldn’t look at him, overwhelmed with some nameless emotion.

  But Ben caught her chin with a finger and tipped her face up. He frowned. ‘What is it?’

  The fact that she felt absurdly close to tears was horrifying. She bit her lip, and then said, ‘I don’t know... I’m just... I’m sorry for what you went through. I can’t imagine how awful it must have been.’

  Ben’s expression became shuttered in an instant, and he let her go so fast that she almost lurched forward.

  He backed away, his lip curling. ‘What? You’re feeling sorry for me now because the poor little rich boy lost everything and had to slum it? Suddenly everything’s more palatable now that you know I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth?’

  Horror that he could think such a thing, and hurt, made Lia put out a hand. ‘No! I didn’t mean it like that at all—’

  But he cut her off, saying harshly, ‘It was the best thing that could have happened to me. It woke me up to reality before I could get too cushioned by life. I knew not to take anything for granted, as my father had done. Not to grow complacent. I learnt the value of hard work and building something with your own hands—something that won’t collapse.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Lia said quietly, hating it that he’d misunderstood her.

  * * *

  Ben looked at the woman in front of him, her hair tousled and that glorious dress falling to the floor where her bare feet peeped out. She was all slender curves and pale skin.

  He knew he was wrong about her—that she wasn’t a snob. And he knew what he’d just said hadn’t been fair. But right now he was filled with something that was threatening to push him over the edge. He’d never revealed so much to anyone. Never spoken about his past like that. About his father’s drinking. His mother’s weakness.

  Lia stepped forward, her hand out, her eyes wide and full of something Ben didn’t want to decipher.

  ‘Ben, I’m sorry, please let me explain—’

  He tipped over that edge. ‘No,’ he said harshly. ‘You don’t need to explain anything because I’m not interested in talking any more. All I’m interested in is this...’

  Before she could say another word Ben had closed the distance between them, taken her face in his hands and was kissing her. Kissing her the way he’d been aching to kiss her again. For a long second she was frozen in his arms, and then she was moving closer and reaching up. Pressing her body against his.

  Everything was forgotten as she twined her arms around his neck. Their angry words were decimated in the heat of this passion. Their mouths fused for a long moment, as if the intensity was too much to break, and then subtly Ben coaxed her to open her mouth to him. When his tongue touched hers he was lost, drowning in a sea of sensation and growing lust as he demanded a response, which she gave willingly.

  He moved his hands down her back and settled them on her hips, hauling her closer. Close enough so she could feel what she was doing to him, where he ached most of all. Lia gasped into his mouth but he didn’t let her break away. He never wanted to let her go again...

  * * *

  Between Lia’s legs she felt damp and hot. Her breasts ached, pressed tight against his chest. But somehow a tiny sliver of sanity returned and she tore her mouth away from Ben’s, breathing as if she’d just run a marathon.

  They’d combusted. That was the only word for it. She’d never felt anything like it. She hadn’t even known she was capable of this much feeling.

  ‘I can’t—’ she gasped incoherently, too far gone to be embarrassed. ‘This is too...too much.’

  The look in Ben’s eyes was hot and feral. ‘It’s not nearly enough.’

  He caught her hand and led her deeper into the living room. Lia’s body throbbed in time with the blood pumping to every erogenous zone. Ben took her over to one of the couches and made her sit down. She was glad, because her legs were shaking.

  He stood above her, looking down with a kind of intensity that scared and excited her in equal measure.

  ‘You’re so beautiful...’

  She went to pull the edges of her dress together, feeling exposed, thinking of that buxom Brazilian beauty earlier. ‘I’m not...’

  He came down on his knees before her then, taking her by surprise. He put his hands on her thighs and gently pushed her legs apart, moving between them. His eyes burned into hers.

  ‘Yes, you are. And I’m sorry for lashing out just now...you didn’t deserve that.’

  His apology struck at the heart of her. ‘That’s okay...’

  He put his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him so that she lay back on the couch. She whispered through her erratic heartbeat. ‘What are you doing?’

  He smiled, but it was the smile of the devil. Dark and decadent. Sexy. ‘Something I’ve wanted to do from the moment I saw you in this dress.’

  He leant forward, putting delicious pressure on her between her legs, and slowly but methodically pushed her hands out of the way so that he could pull apart
the neckline of her dress, all too easily. Lia remembered his look in the shop, and instead of feeling self-conscious, something scarily exultant moved through her.

  Her delicate underwired blue lace bra opened very conveniently from the front. Ben undid the catch and pushed the lace material aside. He cupped one full breast with his hand, making it pout upwards. Lia’s breath stalled as shards of pleasure raced through her body. Excitement fizzed in her veins. And then Ben bent his head and tongued her nipple, bringing it to tingling hardness before he sucked it into his mouth.

  Lia had a moment of sheer disbelief that this man could possibly want her this much before sensations she’d never felt before swamped her and removed her ability to think. Without even registering the movement, she found her hands were in Ben’s hair and she was clutching him to her breast. Eyes shut, heart pounding...

  He was reaching right down inside her and unlocking the door to all the insecurities she’d buried deep. And she couldn’t stop him. Because the pleasure was eclipsing any fear she might be feeling—if she was even capable of being rational right now.

  When Ben finally lifted his head from her tender flesh she opened her eyes, and it took her a second to focus and realise that she held his head in a death grip.

  She let go immediately, horrified. But Ben just smiled. He lifted a hand and brushed some hair back off her cheek in a surprisingly tender move, even as she felt the hard length of his erection near the apex of her legs. She was aware that if she moved slightly it would create the friction she suddenly needed.

  Who was she? What had she become?

  ‘You look deliciously...undone.’

  Ben’s voice was gravelly. Lia looked at him, feeling twin desires: to move and pull her dress around her again, and also just to lie there and offer herself up to him.

  He started to press kisses down her torso, his hands reaching around and finding where the dress was tied, undoing it easily, the silk like water in his hands. Soon he had her dress pushed apart completely, and he looked down at her blue lace panties.