Seducing the Billionaire's Wife

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Seducing the Billionaire's Wife Page 6

by Marquita Valentine


  Until he was hollow inside.

  And he was afraid that not even Hannah Miller’s sweet kisses or charming personality could make him whole again.

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Drew couldn’t stand the thought of being so close to Hannah without actually being with her, so he cancelled his room reservation and boarded MI’s private jet. In a little under an hour, he was back in Charlotte.

  By tomorrow morning, his life would return to normal.

  Or as normal as his life could be.

  None of that mattered as much as securing control of the company, which his father had done while Drew was in flight. For whatever reason, satisfaction hadn’t accompanied that email or the pdf copy of William Montgomery’s signature. Maybe it was because he had no one to share that moment of victory. Certainly, he could have texted Blake or even his brother, but the thought of gloating over this “win” left him cold.

  Drew let his head fall back against his seat, closing his eyes against the Charlotte skyline as he thought of Hannah. By now, she would be at home, doing super exciting things.

  His little comedienne.

  A smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. He could only imagine her curled up on her couch, her fingers covered in Old Bay seasoning as she most likely swooned over the main character while she ate shrimp. Blake had accused Ella of doing that. His secretary hadn’t denied her reaction to the actor. Then again, she ignored Blake most of the time.

  His phone buzzed. Opening his eyes, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the text from Blake.

  Meeting tomorrow morning. Your office.

  DREW: 8 AM?

  BLAKE: Yes. I’ll bring the champagne to celebrate.

  Drew didn’t bother to reply to Blake’s last text. Instead, he pocketed his phone and closed his eyes once more, forcing himself not to text Hannah or check her Facebook status.

  Would ‘It’s Complicated’ be an appropriate relationship status?

  He thought so, but he would do anything and everything in his power to uncomplicate, for lack of a better word, everything between them.

  *

  Drew sat at his conference table, answering emails, when his secretary walked in. Honestly, her title should be executive work wife with the way she kept him on task and on time for meetings. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

  “Good morning, sir,” Ella Simpson said as she brought in a tray of coffee, tea, and fresh fruit.

  “Morning,” he said pleasantly, closing out his emails to bring up his personal calendar. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  Ella lifted an auburn brow, her brown eyes soft, yet shrewd. “I know you’ve already eaten, but I added a little extra to this morning’s refreshments since that man will be here at eight.”

  Drew bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “He has a name.”

  “I’m sure he loves to hear the sound of it.” Ella set the tray on his desk, poured a cup of tea, and made a plate fruit and muffins. Then she sat down and began to eat.

  “You’re welcome to stay for my meeting with Blake, you know. Most secretaries would stay.”

  Ella’s mouth twisted. “If you need me to stay, I will. But only know I’m doing so for you. Not him.”

  “Whatever would I do without you?” He genuinely liked Ella, as did everyone who met her. She’d been his secretary going on five years now, replacing the woman who’d used to work for his father.

  She blushed at the compliment and smiled. “You wouldn’t be able to do a thing.”

  “Oh, spare me, Simpson. Andrew is perfectly capable of functioning without you,” Blake said as he walked inside Drew’s office.

  Ella stiffened in her seat. “I’ll go now. Please email me what appointments you’d like added to your schedule. I’ll check back in with you before noon.”

  Blake waved a hand her way, a bottle of champagne in his free hand. “You should stay, honestly. We’ve a wedding to celebrate.”

  Ella made a face. “Who in their right mind would marry you?”

  “Oh, I’m not the lucky bloke. Our man, Andrew, is.” Blake popped the cork. “He was married yesterday to his childhood sweetheart.”

  Ella’s face went white, her teacup tumbling to the floor. “You married Alexis George?”

  Blake frowned, and Drew rose from his seat. He joined Ella, helping her clean up the spilled tea.

  “I have it. It’s my job,” she said, clearly distraught as Blake set the bottle down before joining in on the clean up. “Whatever I can’t mop up, I’ll have cleaning services attend to.”

  “He’s not married to Alexis George,” Blake said softly.

  Ella’s glanced away from both of them. “It’s none of my business.”

  “He’s right; I didn’t marry her.”

  “You’re not married?” Looking up, she glared at Blake. “This mess is all your fault.”

  “You sound exactly like my mum,” Blake murmured. “Lovely.”

  “Blake, could you give Ella and me a minute? I need to bring her up to speed.”

  With a nod, Blake grabbed the teacup and left the office.

  Drew and Ella stood, facing one another.

  “I’m sorry,” she began. “I don’t know what got into me. Well, I do—that man is always doing things to irritate me.”

  “Blake is a good guy. The two of you rub each other the wrong way.”

  “I’d rather he not rub me at all,” Ella muttered.

  Drew put his hands into his pockets. “Blake was also telling the truth. I did get married yesterday to my… childhood sweetheart.” The description of Hannah was apt, though they’d never been together. She was a sweetheart and hadn’t changed over the years into someone different.

  Unlike him.

  “But—but you said you didn’t marry Alexis,” Ella sputtered. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t. I married Hannah Miller, and I’d like for you to keep this quiet. My father knows, of course—it was his demand, after all—and Blake. But I haven’t decided how to share the news.” He strolled to the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. “Never know how the shareholders will take the news.”

  “You didn’t want to get married?”

  His jaw clenched. “Not particularly. But it was either marry or allow thousands to lose their jobs.”

  “Thousands?”

  Drew nodded. “Yes. I had no other choice.” He felt her presence behind him suddenly, and he braced for contact. He knew Ella had feelings for him—there was no mistaking her longing gaze over the years—but she had never acted on it, always choosing to keep things professional. As for himself, he had never thought of Ella in those terms and had made it a rule to never get involved romantically with his employees. Marrying Hannah didn’t count since The Magnificent Dunes was her wedding present.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ella said.

  “Would you do me a favor?”

  “Anything,” she breathed, still not touching him. Thank God.

  He pivoted, finding her only a couple of feet away. “Hannah and I plan to have a formal ceremony, and I would be honored if you would serve as a bridesmaid.”

  Her brown eyes widened. “Bridesmaid?”

  Nodding, he said, “Yes. I want Hannah to have the wedding of her dreams.”

  “Wedding of her dreams,” she repeated, then she took a step back and gave him a forced smile. “I’d love to help you and Hannah. How romantic of you to give her something so… special.” She looked away, a hand going to her face to wipe away the tears she was trying to hide from him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an urgent call to make.”

  Ella practically ran out of the room.

  Drew scrubbed his hand over his face. “Damn it.” It hadn’t been his intention to make her cry, but he hadn’t led her on. Ever.

  His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His father. He had no desire to talk to him.

  His phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text
from Connor.

  Sucker. You should have told the old man to shove it.

  Before he could answer, his sister’s text came through.

  LONDON: I’m so excited for you! Finally, I won’t be the only girl.

  His phone continued to buzz, chirp, and ring until he shut it off with a growl. Apparently, no one could be trusted to keep his personal life private. Although, he doubted very much that Hannah or her grandparents had told anyone. They weren’t the kind to gossip.

  An overwhelming urge to see Hannah hit him hard. Why shouldn’t he go to her? Why should he keep to Charlotte while she waited for him near the coast? She had practically ordered him come back on Saturday… yet six days seemed like an eternity. He couldn’t wait an eternity to be with her again.

  He refused to wait a minute longer.

  Mind made up, he stalked to the door as Blake burst inside.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” his friend said, his blue eyes blazing.

  None of your damn business. “I need some air.”

  “Ella’s crying.”

  “I know.”

  Blake shoved him, his hands clenching into fists. “I should make you bloody pay for that.”

  “But you won’t,” Drew said, irritated as hell that his friend would think he was solely responsible for Ella’s emotions. “I haven’t led her on. I haven’t done a damn thing to make Ella think I was interested in more from her.”

  “Of course you haven’t. A man such as yourself, with ice for blood, would never make a woman think she was interesting, or had a fucking chance with you.”

  Drew met Blake’s furious gaze head-on. “You’re pissed because I didn’t encourage Ella? I’m her boss, for God’s sake, and it’s not my damn fault.” His anger grew the more he spoke. “I didn’t say anything to her or attempt to embarrass her. At all. In fact, I’ve been pretty fucking tolerant.”

  That seemed to calm Blake down a bit. “You’ve never been with Ella?”

  “I can’t believe you would ask me that.” Drew pushed past him. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

  “A better one than I am, mate,” he heard Blake say as he strode to the elevators.

  “Let Ella know I’ll be gone for the rest of the week.” The doors opened and Drew stepped inside, pressing the lower level button. “She’ll need to rearrange my schedule.”

  Blake appeared, stopping the doors from closing. “Where are you going?”

  “To see my wife,” Drew said.

  Obviously nonplussed, Blake moved his hand and the doors began to close. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”

  *

  Hannah was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, singing along to Taylor Swift’s Style, when her doorbell rang. She cut down the volume on the radio before washing her hands.

  The doorbell rang again and again. Her lips flattened. Only Fischer would ring that many times, and only to annoy the crud out of her.

  “Coming,” she sang out as she hurried to the front door and opened it. “I swear, Fischer, if you’ve just come by to use my bathroom, I’ll smack you upside the—”

  Drew stood there, wearing a suit sans the tie. His dark hair gleamed in the sun, and his sexy, green-eyed gaze made her entire body light up with awareness.

  “Upside the what?” he asked.

  “Huh?” she asked, trying to wrap her mind around his unexpected visit.

  “I assume you were going to say head.” His lips twitched a little, his dimple appearing. “Sounds like Fischer is a thorn in your side.”

  “Oh, that,” she said with a grin. “Yeah, he’s himself.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I decided not to wait until Saturday.”

  “Why would I mind?” She was about to lose her mind with confusion, joy, anxiousness, and a healthy dose of desire, but she didn’t need to let him know all of that. A girl had to keep her secrets after all.

  “Your schedule might be too—”

  Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t have that busy of a schedule. I was in the middle of cleaning.” She touched the headband that she’d used to keep her hair off her face and neck, completely aware of how she looked to him in her cut-off jeans and faded t-shirt. “But you could have called to let me know so I didn’t look so dingy when you showed up.”

  His gaze turned hard and… was it her imagination or did he look embarrassed? “I can leave if you want.” Then, out of the blue, he started for his car. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

  She pushed open the screen door and ran after him. “Don’t go,” she said, catching him by the arm. “I was only teasing you. Sorta. You do have a knack for catching me not at my best.”

  He stopped walking and turned to her. “I should have called.”

  “You don’t have to call. We’re married,” she said. Married. It had barely been twenty-four hours since she’d last seen him.

  “My wife shouldn’t be extended the same courtesy I’d give a business colleague?”

  “Well, when you put it like that… yes, you should be considerate of me. But I’m happy you’re here,” she said in a rush. “Nervous, too. I’ve never been married before, and I still haven’t told my grandparents.” She wriggled her fingers at him. “No ring either.”

  “About that last part.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a light blue box. “This is for you.”

  Taking it from him, she opened it and gasped at the platinum ring inside. “How beautiful.”

  “It’s yours. I hope it meets your expectations.”

  Hannah eyed him. “I’m pretty sure I never expected a ring from Tiffany’s.”

  Gently lifting the ring from the box, he placed the diamond on her ring finger. “I had wedding bands made for us as well, but thought you might like to wait until the official ceremony, since we skipped that part.”

  Hannah caught her neighbor staring at them. “Why don’t we go inside? I’ll fix you some tea, and we can talk about things.” She led the way inside her house and shut the door behind her.

  “I made reservations at Chesson House.”

  “Good,” she said and was suddenly spun around.

  Drew captured her face in his hands. “I missed you.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “I couldn’t wait until Saturday.”

  She leaned into his touch. “I missed you, too.”

  “I’m not sure what you want, but I know what I want, and if you’ll say yes, then I’ll,” he stopped, the bridge of his nose flushing as he gathered his thoughts, “I’m prepared to do anything to make you comfortable, to make you feel at ease. Hell, I’m prepared to spend days seducing you with poetry, jewelry, trips, and anything else you’ll allow me to do for you.”

  The thought of him seducing her didn’t bring to mind jewelry or trips or even poetry. She could only think of touching and kissing… of their bodies coming together. Nude, hot, sweaty… with him moving inside of her. Of finally giving her what she wanted from him.

  And this was why she shouldn’t be celibate for the past three years. She wanted to jump the first attractive guy who married her. A giggle escaped her throat.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The thought of me jumping you. You make it sound much more romantic. Seducing me…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, I want to be seduced. In fact, I’m a hundred percent on board with seduction, but I’m your wife and after we, uh, get to know each other again, I’ll be a sure thing.” Her face grew hot, and she knew she was blushing. But if he could be honest, so could she. She had wants and needs that he could take care of, and she could do the same for him.

  “Sure thing or not.” He brushed his lips across hers in a fleeting kiss. “I want to seduce you, Hannah. I want to seduce my wife.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  “Seduce away,” Hannah said, all breathless.

  “Where can I take you first?”

  “Right here’s good with me.”

  He laughed. “You misun
derstand me.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and then his hands fell away. “I meant where can I take you on a date.”

  “Oh.” She winced a little. “Sorry¸ I got all caught up in the seduction part. We can go to Jack’s over in Holland Springs. Best Italian food I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I have a jet at my disposal.”

  “Holland Springs isn’t that far away,” she said.

  His dimple appeared again. “But Paris is. Or London. Amsterdam. Rome. You pick, I’ll provide the transportation.”

  He was serious. “I don’t have a passport, and you can’t get me one quickly enough—billionaire or not. The government has rules.”

  “I break them.”

  “Pretty sure people go to jail for that.”

  “Not those rules—our company can hack into any US government database. Foreign governments, too. It’s why we provide protection for their top-secret projects.”

  “You know how to do that?”

  He shook his head. “No. I pay people to do that.”

  “Then how do you know if they’re doing a good job?” she asked, a little worried for him. Her grandparents had always stressed that a good manager should be able to perform any job at the resort.

  “I pay people to oversee them.”

  “Who oversees those people?”

  “I do.”

  She frowned. “Looks like we’re back to my original question—how do you know if they’re doing a good job or not?”

  “Feedback from our clients,” he said. “Hannah, I surround myself with not only the best, but also with people I trust, and I pay them accordingly.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “But I still think it would be a good idea to learn what they do.” She was probably overstepping by giving him advice, and he probably didn’t appreciate it. Drew had been running a company for years without her help.

  “I’ll take your advice under consideration.”

  Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “You’re not mad at me?”

  “For what?”

  “Sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

 

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