The Rich List Series: Contemporary Romance Box Set (Millionaire, Billionaire, CEO)

by Hunter, Talia

  He folded his arms, bemused. “I’m not your assistant.”

  “I paid a small fortune for you, remember?”

  “You paid for a single lunch.”

  Geena pressed her lips together. “You’re seriously not going to help? You should be thanking me for giving you the chance to practice being friendly to strangers. After watching some of your television interviews, you can’t tell me you don’t need it.”

  Damien held up a hand to stop her saying more. Admittedly, talking to one of Geena’s customers would help him understand what sex store shoppers were looking for. Important knowledge for the store redesign.

  “Just this once.” He left the pages he’d printed on the counter and strode over to the woman. An office worker on her lunch break, perhaps? She glanced up as he approached, then gave him a slow, appraising look.

  “I can’t decide between the bullet and the egg.” The woman’s tone was flirtatious. Which would you recommend?”

  What on earth were bullets and eggs? Damien examined the shrink-wrapped packages. The plastic objects inside the packages were either egg or bullet shaped, just as their names indicated. There were no diagrams or obvious instructions as to how you might use them.

  “Do you have any advice?” the woman asked.

  “It depends what you want it for.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she made a sound that was half gasp, half laugh. “You don’t really want me to spell it out?”

  That would help. He picked up the closest packet, flipping it over to quickly check the back. No instructions there either. “This one’s popular.” He handed it to her. “I’d go with that.”

  She examined it, biting her lip and shooting him sly glances from under lowered eyelashes. “The bullet?” She gave a breathless giggle. Then she stepped closer and her voice lowered to an intimate murmur. “Is it good to use with a partner? You know, if I met someone who wanted to try it with me?”

  He didn’t have time to react. A sharp noise came from behind him, and the woman jerked her head to look. Damien didn’t need to turn around to know it was Geena.

  “Maybe I can help?” Geena’s tone had a slight edge. Could she be annoyed by the woman’s flirting? If so, she didn’t let it show in her expression. “Both are good with a partner. You’ll like the egg if you prefer a wider sensation. Because of the shape, it stimulates over a slightly bigger area.”

  “I’ll let you handle it,” said Damien, moving away. He stayed well clear until the woman left, then handed Geena the first of the papers Rosalind had printed. “Here’s a list of your best-sellers. You need to make sure they have good visibility in the store, and you always have plenty of stock.” He handed her the next page. “These are your worst sellers. They have to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “I’ve suggested you put them in storage for now, then sell them online at a large discount. A sale will create a buzz to help kick off your new online store.”

  “Online store?”

  He handed her the last of the pages Rosalind had printed. “Here’s my action plan for increasing your profits. You’ll see that an online store is number three. I recommend you have it set up as soon as possible.”

  “But I don’t have the money to pay my tax, let alone get a new website developed.”

  “You can’t afford not to.” He glanced at a customer who was approaching the counter. “Read through the other items while I go and take a look through your financials. Come up when you’re done and we can talk through your figures.”

  Without waiting for a response, he went back up to the closet Geena called an office and sat back at her desk.

  The financial statements Rosalind had created were on her screen, but he found himself staring at the narrow bed tucked against the wall beside the desk. There was a depression in the middle of the pillow and he ran his hand gently over it, half expecting to feel warmth instead of cold.

  What was he doing? Geena probably napped here occasionally, and what of it? If he concentrated on the numbers, he could get her store sorted out and resume his life. He should definitely not waste time by imagining her pink hair spread over the pillow and the sheets pushed down to expose her naked body.

  Concentrate.

  Before he could turn back to the computer, he noticed a cat easing itself in from the fire escape through the partly-open window. “What are you doing there?” Its torn ears flattened when he stood to pat it, and it lifted a paw, preparing to take a swipe at him. “Not friendly, huh?”

  Damien sat back at the computer while the cat settled itself on the windowsill. He studied the financials a moment, then frowned. That closing balance couldn’t be right, surely? Checking it again, he shook his head. Rosalind hadn’t got it wrong, Geena really did have just a few dollars left in the bank. And when he saw her upcoming payments, he groaned. She’d gambled every last cent that Damien would be able to save her, but she’d left it too late and now her store was beyond his help.

  Maybe she had a financing arrangement already in place? But surely she would have mentioned it.

  He started from the beginning and went through all the figures slowly, checking everything to see if there was any way she could keep afloat. He was so engrossed he didn’t hear her at the top of the stairs until she cleared her throat.

  “Admit it, Mr. Businessman. You don’t know what eggs or bullets are, do you?”

  He swiveled in his chair and her challenging expression made her financial problems fade from his mind. Her hips swayed as she stepped towards him, drawing his gaze down her body.

  “Because I don’t need any help in the bedroom,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows, her full lips making an ‘o’ of pretended surprise. “Is that so?”

  He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “You’ve never tried using sex toys?”

  “I’ve always thought adult stores were for old men in raincoats to buy dirty movies.” He tightened his lips to keep from smiling at her outraged expression. It might be partly true, but he’d only phrased it that way because he liked the way her eyes widened.

  “You don’t like having fun?” She put her hands on her hips. Her tight dress hugged her curves, accentuating her figure. Hell, she looked like the definition of fun.

  He stood up very slowly and deliberately, so she had to watch him uncoil from the chair. Her head tilted back so she could look into his face, and her body felt very close in the small office.

  “I think the women I’ve been with would say they enjoyed themselves.”

  Their conversation was so sexually charged he was surprised sparks didn’t fly from his lips. His heart was beating faster and his arousal was probably obvious. Was it any wonder he’d stiffened when her green eyes sparkled with that kind of challenge, daring him to prove he didn’t need the help of sex toys to make her moan with pleasure.

  “You think so?” Her tongue ran across her lips.

  “Shouldn’t you be serving customers?”

  “Billy’s arrived. He works eight until one. Billy’s bigger than I am, and it’s easier for him to handle the drunks and druggies who sometimes stagger in at night.”

  Billy had to be the employee she wasn’t going to be able to pay on Friday. At least she’d had the sense to hire him in the first place, and not try to handle the rough element of King’s Cross on her own. Shame that Billy would be out of a job soon. And so would Geena.

  He gestured to the computer. “Your financial reports are dire.”

  “Which is why I need you.”

  “You spent a lot of money you didn’t have when you bid for me at the auction. It made things a whole lot worse, and they weren’t good to start with.”

  She swallowed, the confidence she’d come in with visibly fading. His words were harsh, but it never helped to sugar coat the truth.

  “You pinned all your hopes on me agreeing to your plan. And what if I’d said no?” He shook his head, not e
xpecting her to answer. “It was a crazy gamble, and you bet your entire future on a roll of the dice. Why would you do that, C—?” He bit the question off an instant too late. Shit, he’d almost called her Cilla. Well, no wonder. Geena was as much a risk-taker as Cilla had been. In other words, a time bomb waiting to explode and rip chunks from whoever got too close.

  “It was a desperate move, I admit.” She gave him a defiant glare. “But I guess everyone does things that might look a little crazy to others, don’t they, Mr. Historic Building Destroyer? So how about you stop telling me what I did wrong, and start telling me how to put things right?”

  Her mention of The Kingston made him want to grind his teeth. Damn building was going to haunt him forever. “You can’t keep going if you don’t have the money to pay your employee.” His voice came out harsh. “You have to wind up your business.”

  “I’ll give Billy notice and work by myself again for a while.”

  “Absolutely not. You’d be here alone at night, and that’s not safe.”

  “What else can I do? I’ve got the money to pay him his final salary. At least I will have by Friday.” She put her hand on her throat where a thin gold chain snaked under her dress, the hidden pendant resting, he imagined, between her breasts. “I’ve been offered a thousand dollars for my necklace. That’s enough to cover Billy’s last payment. Hopefully sales will pick up soon and I’ll start breaking even again.”

  Damien stepped close and touched the hand that still covered the base of her neck. “Let me see.”

  When she dropped her hand, he lifted the chain until the pendant appeared above the neckline of her dress. No, not a pendant. An oval locket. Big and heavy, with a diamond inset, and tiny hinges. A beautiful piece, and a good-sized stone. He was no expert, but if the diamond was real, it was worth a lot more than a thousand dollars.

  “It’s antique?” he asked.

  She nodded. “My grandmother didn’t want to wear an engagement ring, so my grandfather got her this necklace instead. She was unconventional and didn’t care what people thought.” Geena touched the side of the locket. “It used to open. See this lock? There was a tiny key that opened it, but I lost it when I was small.”

  Damien frowned. Surely the locket had too much personal history to let go of. “You’re really willing to sell it?”

  She pulled in a breath before nodding. “As much as this necklace means to me, I’ll do anything to keep my store from going under. Besides, Gran was a really special lady who understood me better than anyone. I know she’d be okay with it.”

  Her voice held resignation, but the way her eyes were hooded told him it hurt more than she was willing to let on. He felt a stab of pity so sharp it put him off balance. He knew how she felt. When he’d started his construction company, he’d been young enough that nobody had taken him seriously. He’d given everything to keep his dream alive before finally getting a big job that pulled him into the black.

  “You can get there,” he said softly. “Don’t give up.”

  Her face jerked up, her eyes wide. “You really think so?”

  Before he knew what he was doing, his hand came up to brush a strand of hair back from her face. Her body was close, her face angled up to him. He bent his head and her lips parted for him. Her eyelids dropped half-closed and her hand snaked up as though to caress his neck.

  “Geena.” A yell from downstairs.

  They jerked back, away from each other.

  Damien shook his head. What had he almost done?

  “Geena, are you up there?” Her employee – Billy – yelled again. “Where’s the key for the till?”

  Geena dragged in an audible breath. Turning towards the stairs, she called down. “Under the receipt book.”

  A moment later, the reply drifted up. “Okay, got it.”

  Geena smoothed her skirt before turning back to Damien. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  She trailed off, but he was already nodding. She was far too much like Cilla for his liking. Besides, he couldn’t have a dalliance with a sex store owner. He hardly needed that to make the papers, especially before the date with Alexa Worthington that Bryce was setting up.

  “You’re right, it was a mistake,” he agreed.

  “Anyway.” She smoothed her skirt again, her hands moving nervously. “I can’t pay my tax bill, so how am I going to afford an online store?”

  He indicated his action plan. “You need short-term finance to bridge the deficit. It’s number one on the list. Get that, and make sure Billy stays. You can’t be here on your own at night.”

  “You really think I can get a loan? I’m not even sure where to start.”

  “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.” He checked his watch. “I’ve given you two extra hours, but now our time’s up.”

  She bit her lip. “What can I offer you to stay one more day?”

  “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “Please come back tomorrow.” She grabbed one of his hands. “I’m desperate. Please. Just give me one more day. I can’t do it without you.”

  He couldn’t think straight with her standing so close, her hands warm, her sweet scent tickling his nostrils, and his lips still aching to taste her.

  Rosalind would have a full day booked for him tomorrow. But Geena had planned to let Billy go, and that would mean she’d be alone and vulnerable at night. What if something happened to her?

  Maybe he should come back tomorrow to make sure she followed his instructions. He could also convince her to pay more attention to her own safety. She didn’t seem to understand how dangerous King’s Cross was.

  His jaw tightened. Damn her. The last thing he needed was to get involved, to feel responsible for her. But what choice did he have? If there was a chance she’d disobey him and fire Billy, he couldn’t just walk away.

  “Please.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m begging you.”

  He sighed. “I’ll have Rosalind reschedule one or two of tomorrow’s appointments.”

  “That’s a yes?” She let go of his hand and whooped. Her smile was so wide it was contagious, and he found his own lips twitching in response. She had a beautiful smile. One that lit her up and made it hard for him to pull his eyes away. The kind of smile he needed to be careful around, in case it messed with his head.

  “You have to agree not to let Billy go. And look for someone to work with you during the day as well.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I’ll get onto that. I’ll hire someone, right after I buy myself a Ferrari.”

  He bit back a sharp response. Once she had her businesses finances in order, he’d bring the subject back up and make her see reason. In the meantime, he had a dinner to attend and it was getting late.

  “How do you get home?” he asked. “Do you have a car?”

  “I live close. Walking distance.”

  “My car is waiting outside. I’ll drop you off.”

  “No need.”

  “I’m not letting you leave alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He sucked in his breath, wanting to shake her. “Why are you determined to be so damn difficult?”

  She folded her arms. “Enough with the cotton wool. I can look after myself. Besides, I might sleep here tonight, so I can get an early start in the morning.”

  “Fine.” He’d never met anyone so stubborn. “Then tomorrow we work. Get a good night’s sleep because it’s going to be a busy day.”

  6

  The next morning, Damien pulled up at the Gee Spot. He refused to be chauffeured around, preferring to drive himself, but Rosalind always arranged for someone to park his car. The valet was waiting, but Damien didn’t get out of the car right away. In spite of his resolve that he wouldn’t act on his attraction to Geena, he’d dreamed about her. He’d kept imagining he could feel her lips against his and her body pressing into his hands.

  If he were honest, the feeling he got when he was around her had influenced his decision to spend more time at The Gee Spot.
But he shouldn’t have let himself give in to it. Personal encounters for men with his kind of money weren’t as simple as they were for most people. The only people he really trusted were friends like Zac, who he’d known forever.

  He picked up his phone and dialed the investigator he’d used a few times before.

  “Mr. Courtney,” Magnum answered.

  Every time they spoke, Damien wondered if he’d been born with the name Magnum, or if he’d changed it when he became a private investigator. An homage to the private investigator from that TV show from the seventies, perhaps? One day he’d ask.

  “I need you to do a background check for me. A woman called Geena Dennis. She owns an adult store in King’s Cross.”

  “Got it,” said Magnum. “I’ll email you the results.”

  Damien threw his keys to the valet and strode towards The Gee Spot. A couple of homeless men were huddled in a doorway. One of them was scratching his arm — the determined, ruthless scratching of a junkie whose skin wouldn’t stop crawling. He had a vicious scar across one cheek, as though someone had slashed his face. Both men glared at Damien, and the man with the scar let out a low growl as he walked past.

  Damien resisted the urge to growl back. Geena might be oblivious to the danger, but everything about King’s Cross set Damien on edge. Only a few blocks away, the patch of land where the Kingston Boarding House had stood was sprouting weeds. Good riddance to it.

  He pushed open the door and the now-familiar bell sounded. Geena was at one of the shelves, petting the cat he’d seen upstairs the day before. The vicious creature was curled in an empty space between boxes of vibrators, purring as she stroked it.

  Geena turned from the cat to greet him. She had on an old-fashioned cream dress, the kind he’d seen women wearing in old black-and-white TV shows. It was a snug fit, with a small belt cinching her waist, and a long, tight skirt. Her pink hair was swept back from her face with barrettes that matched her dress, and her lips were slicked with something that made them shine like strawberry ice cream. She looked delicately beautiful and utterly vulnerable. Perhaps it was the dress that made her seem fragile by accentuating her slight build. Or maybe it was because he’d seen the men outside.