The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue

by Nic Saint

  I don’t know why I hid under the bed. Jack had assured me I was safe here and I believed him. Still.

  Suddenly, the door swung open. Someone must have hit the switch, because the room was flooded with light.

  I shivered in my nightie, not from the cold but from pure terror. They were coming for me. Somehow the people who had done this to me had found me.

  It was only when a puppy padded up to me and licked my nose and I heard Jack’s voice calling out, that I caught my breath.

  “Melanie? Are you in here somewhere?”

  I shimmied out from under the bed with as much dignity as I could manage, and gave Jack a tiny wave from the cherry wood floor.

  “Hey, Jack.”

  A relieved grin came over his handsome face, and my heart leaped in my chest. The puppy bounding all around me, I crawled into a sitting position and looked beyond Jack in search of the source of the noise. “What happened?”

  He held out his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “Nothing to worry about. I had to go to the bathroom and managed to trip over one of those infernal side tables hotel management insists on strewing all around the suite.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Damage?”

  He pointed at his foot and wiggled his toe. “It will heal.”

  It only occurred to me now that the man was dressed in one of the silliest pajamas I’d ever seen. A big fat Donald Duck featured prominently on his chest, and little ducks dotted the rest of the cheerfully blue-and-yellow ensemble. I couldn’t suppress a giggle.

  He gave me a questioning look and I pointed at the duck. “I like the duck.”

  He looked down at his chest as if seeing the outfit for the first time. “Oh. That.” He gave me a sheepish look. “What can I say. I’m big on Disney. You should see my apartment. It’s a collector’s paradise.”

  “Where is your apartment?”

  “Paris. It’s where I have my residence. I’m only in Brussels on weekdays.”

  “Paris!” I’d just remembered this awkward obsession my mind seemed to have with the place.

  He looked at me searchingly. “The first thing you said when I hoisted you out of the canal was that you needed to go there.”

  “I know. I mean, I haven’t the foggiest why, but the urge to go there keeps haunting me.”

  He walked over and reached out to take my hand. I gratefully let him pull me onto the bed. “You know what we could do? Once Robert gives you a clean bill of health, we could take the Thalys and see if the place doesn’t jog your memory.”

  I looked over at him gratefully. “I would love that.”

  “The scent of freshly baked croissants. The sight of the Eiffel Tower. The hum and bustle of Paris traffic. You might remember that you’re actually the French President’s wife or something.”

  “Yeah, right. With my lousy French?”

  “Try some. See how it fits.”

  “Je suis, um, une pain?”

  He grimaced at my poor rendition of the language of Molière. “I think it’s safe to say you’re not the Première dame de la république. Though Robert did mention your language skills might be momentarily affected.”

  I sighed. “I’m starting to think I’m not anybody’s first lady.”

  “Well, you’re first lady of this suite if that makes you feel any better.”

  “I’m the only lady in this suite.” I eyed Rufus askance. “Unless he’s actually a she?”

  Jack guffawed. “No, Rufus is definitely a he.” He gave me a gentle nudge. “Your position is safe, Miss Melanie. You’re La Présidente of this realm.”

  I laughed heartily at this, probably for the first time since Jack fished me out of the river, and his eyes lit up at the sound.

  “I like it when you laugh. Your face becomes radiant.”

  I felt a hot flush suffuse my cheeks. Radiant was right. I looked away in embarrassment. Being so close to Jack made my pulse quicken, and it was all I could do not to reach out and lean my head on his shoulder. Him being so near made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  He must have sensed this, for he slung his arm around me, and drew me in.

  I did lean my head on his shoulder then, and couldn’t resist heaving a sigh of delight at the sensation of his body heat radiating through our respective pajamas.

  Only now did I notice we were wearing matching outfits, only mine was sporting a big Minnie Mouse on the front, with dozens of tiny mice traipsing about the rest of my top.

  “Hey, we’re almost like twins.”

  He gazed down at my Minnie Mouse, and I could sense his growing excitement at the sight of my boobs pushing out Minnie’s ears. The coarse cotton hid my hardening nipples well, but they still managed to tent the fabric.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Minnie looks a lot better on you.”

  I noticed a sudden twitch in his crotch, and detected a noticeable rise in the two mini ducks darting across that region. Whatever I was feeling, Jack was feeling too.

  Heat. Pure heat. Crackling between us. Enveloping us in a rising torrent of lust.

  A soft sigh escaped my lips, and shivers ran up and down my spine. The spot where his hand was touching me suddenly seemed electrically charged, and I felt a thrill of excitement pulsing through my nether regions.

  Another twitch stirred Jack’s tented pajama pants, and I could see his cock rising up slowly but surely. He wasn’t wearing boxers, just a thin layer concealing his burgeoning manhood.

  Suddenly, I felt a strong urge to touch him there. To place my hand and feel the raw power of his length. Envelop his towering girth with my fingers and feel the blood pulsate along the veiny surface.

  I raised my head to look into his eyes and wasn’t surprised to find the lust I was feeling mirrored in them. My breath was quickening, and involuntarily I pushed out my chest, straining my aching tits against the coarse material of the Minnie Mouse shirt. The sensation of the cotton massaging my sensitive nipples had me expel a shuddering breath. I wanted his hands on me. His soft, gentle, warm hands clasping my boobs, then reaching under the shirt and stirring my naked flesh.

  I wanted his tongue plunging into my mouth, ravaging mine.

  More than anything, though, I wanted that red-hot rod burrowing deeply between my folds, taking me right here, right now, and making me his.

  I didn’t know who I was, but I knew damn well what I wanted.

  I wanted Jack Carter.

  Inside me.

  Now.

  Chapter 7

  It was Jack who finally broke the spell. With an awkward grunt, he rose from the bed and looked down at me with a look of confusion in his eyes.

  “I, erm, better go back. To sleep, I mean.” He raked his fingers through his mussed up auburn curls. “It’s late and you—we—need our sleep.”

  I nodded. He was right, of course, but I couldn’t deny experiencing a strong sense of disappointment. So he didn’t want me that way. I could understand why. I was just a nobody to him. Someone he’d fished from the river and now, out of a commendable sense of chivalry or whatever, felt compelled to nurse back to health.

  Without another word, he crossed over to the door, switched off the light, and softly stepped out.

  I snuck under the covers once again, still feeling that rush of excitement. Slipping a hand between my thighs, I wasn’t surprised to find I was wet.

  With a soft cry, I moved onto my back, and spread my legs wide, then snuck my hand inside my pajama bottoms, and placed my fingers on my bare folds.

  I wasn’t merely wet, I was soaking. My fingers easily slipped inside, while my other hand eased beneath my top and found my still erect nipple. I squeezed it hard, plunging my fingers inside my sex, my thumb fondling my aching bud.

  When the first tremors of excitement shook me, I arched my back, and thought of Jack’s hands. Jack’s strong fingers urging me on toward a climax I knew I had to find lest I go nuts.

  Imagining his thick rod of galvanized steel rocking my tender flesh and plunging into
me over and over again, it wasn’t long before I trembled on the edge and finally crested over into a rewarding explosion of pleasure.

  “Aaaaah,” I sighed, settling back between the sheets.

  I must have drifted off, then, for when the mists of sleep yielded, light was streaming in through the curtains, and the vague recollection of Jack spending part of the night with me had me smile at the sweet sensation of his body close to mine, for however brief a time.

  Along with the pleasant memory came embarrassment. What was I thinking, almost throwing myself at Jack’s mercy like that? I didn’t even know the guy and here I’d been ready to make love to him.

  I didn’t know who I was, but this much I knew: I was not that kind of girl.

  Annoyed, I crept from between the sheets, and was rewarded with a splitting headache. Settling down again, I closed my eyes.

  “Ouch.”

  ***

  Jack heard the telltale sounds of Melanie emerging from the depths of slumber and smiled to himself. Up since six, he’d patiently waited for her to wake up, ready to serve breakfast and attend to her needs.

  Last night, it was obvious, she’d also had needs. But those needs he’d not been willing to address. Not that he hadn’t wanted to. It had taken ever fiber of will power to resist the urges of his flesh. Even though he barely knew her, she’d already made an indelible impression on him, and what was more, on his body as well.

  Though he could deny the attraction all he wanted, his body clearly was ready to consummate this newfound union without a care in the world.

  He wanted her. Just being present in the same room as her, his cock had sprung to attention in a heartbeat, ready to plunder sweet Melanie. Simply another notch on his belt? He didn’t think so. Not while he had his strength. No matter how much he wanted her that way, he had to resist the urges of his flesh.

  She was his guest. And what she needed more than anything was tender loving care so she could get well.

  He’d stood outside her door for the longest time after breaking off what clearly was a moment of temporary insanity on both their parts, and when she’d started softly moaning and thrashing about in bed, he’d instinctively known she was exploring her pleasure without his help.

  The sounds and memory of her body so close to his had enticed him to do something he hadn’t done since his teenage years. He’d taken his cock in hand and gotten off. Listening to her reaching the heights of ecstasy, it hadn’t taken him more than a minute to find release himself.

  He’d soon cursed himself for behaving like a horny teenager and for ruining his Donald Duck pajama bottoms.

  With an exasperated shake of the head, he’d returned to bed, vowing never to let the girl get under his skin like that again. Losing control like that had frankly scared the living daylights out of him…

  Now he gently knocked on her door, and when her soft voice bade him entrance, he stepped inside.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. How are you feeling today?”

  She groaned in response. “Whatever Robert gave me yesterday? I need a double dose. My head is killing me.”

  “Don’t worry, Mademoiselle. I have everything you need right here.”

  “I know.”

  He blushed when her eyes dropped to his crotch and pointedly rested there.

  Oh, God. This was going to prove a lot harder than he’d anticipated.

  Chapter 8

  I tore my eyes away from Jack’s genitals, chastising myself all the while. What was happening to me! How did I suddenly turn into this wanton woman?

  Though technically, since I was still suffering from amnesia, I had no way of knowing this wasn’t who I really was.

  Oh, God. Was I some sort of loose woman? Some sultry seductress who couldn’t feel satisfied unless I had a man between my legs twenty-four seven?

  I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case.

  And from the look on Jack’s face, it wasn’t what he’d bargained for either.

  We stood staring at each other for a moment, both too stunned for speech, and were finally saved by the bell. Literally.

  As the buzzer intruded upon our moment of awkwardness, Rufus darted toward the door and started hopping up and down, yapping all the while.

  Jack frowned, seemingly annoyed.

  “Were you expecting someone?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Robert said he’d drop in later today, and my dad, but other than that I cleared my schedule and told Kate, my secretary, I wouldn’t come in today.”

  It reminded me to ask him what it was exactly that he did. And how he could afford a suite at the Carlton and a presumably posh pad in Paris.

  “Better lock the door,” Jack said curtly.

  The fear that had disappeared overnight abruptly reared its ugly head again. My eyes went wide. “You don’t think...”

  “Better be safe than sorry.” He quickly closed the door, and I hurried over to lock it behind him.

  Pressing my ear to the door, I listened intently. When no sound came, I started to assume that perhaps it’d been maintenance checking in to schedule cleaning.

  Suddenly there was a loud banging sound, and I jerked back from the door. Another bang, and the splintering sound I recognized as a door being kicked in.

  Oh, God. What was going on?

  Then the loudest bang assaulted my ears, followed by a crash and excited voices roaring through the small space on the other side of my bedroom door.

  Like I’d done the night before, I scrambled for the bed and disappeared underneath. Whoever was out there clearly didn’t have my or Jack’s well-being in mind.

  Trembling, I waited for my own door to be knocked down and whoever meant me harm to come barging in.

  The hollers and screams seemed to reach a fever pitch, and when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a loud crack had me yelp out in fear. It had sounded like a gun shot going off!

  Shuffling feet and angry shouts followed the blast, and finally silence ensued.

  I waited breathlessly, and when a soft knock came, it was accompanied by the sweetest sound in the world. “Melanie? You can come out now. I drove them away. The police are on their way here now.”

  I rolled from under the bed and raced for the door, only to fling it open and myself into Jack’s arms.

  Sobbing against his chest, I didn’t dare ask what had happened until he finally released me, led me to a chair and told me to take a seat.

  Only now did I see the devastation the visitors had wrought: the front door was attached to the jamb by a single hinge, and the coat rack had been torn from the wall and lay crashed on the floor, knickknacks and clothes strewn all across the vestibule.

  Only now did I notice Jack was holding a gun. But what was more troubling was his face. A gash had appeared above his left eyebrow, and his cheekbone was bruised and bloodied. I gasped, and slung a hand to my chest.

  “Jack! Are you hurt?”

  He grinned. “I’m fine. You should see the other guy, though.”

  “What happened?”

  He scratched his scalp, then carried the gun to the living room and carefully placed it in a hidden drawer beneath the dining room table and closed it again. “I really can’t say. I think they were your mom and dad, but as we’ve already established they’re not really your mom and dad, it’s really a mystery who those people are.”

  “Linda Soakes?”

  “One and the same. And that goon who calls himself your father. I’m afraid I didn’t make a very good impression. I told them in so many words to buzz off, and I’m sorry to say it didn’t go over very well. The Soakes woman gave me a rather nasty kick to the shin, and when her husband saw it fit to use my face for batting practice, I decided enough was enough and brought out the heavy artillery.”

  “Good thing you had that gun.”

  “My dad always said it might come in handy one day and I’m glad to say the old man was right for a change. It seemed to give them pause, and when I trained the weapon on them
instead of the ceiling, they decided to cut their visit short.”

  “How did they find me?”

  “After we didn’t return from radiology yesterday, I assume they did some asking around, found out where I lived and decided to pop up for a quiet chat. Since Mrs Soakes was dressed in a maid’s uniform and Mr Soakes in a bellboy’s, I figure they must have raided the staff dressing room before showing up here unannounced.”

  “Oh, Jack. You could have been killed.”

  He gingerly touched the gash over his eye and winced a little. “Well, I’d like to say I’m a hard man to kill, but since I’m not Steven Seagal I probably shouldn’t.”

  I can’t describe the feeling of extreme elation at seeing Jack safe and sound, and the courage it must have taken him to come to my defense, and the affection I’d already started feeling for this man easily quadrupled at that moment.

  I wanted nothing more than to go over to him and dress his wounds, but a deferential knock on what was left of the front door startled us both.

  Looking up, I saw it was Bill Rattner, directing puzzled glances at the devastation in both the room and on Jack’s face.

  “Jack. Ran into a cop again?”

  Jack’s face darkened. Whatever the story was between him and Bill, it was obvious there was no love lost.

  “Jack was attacked by the people pretending to be my parents, Bill,” I said to stop the men from glowering at each other. “They came for me, and Jack drove them away, at the risk of his own life.”

  This seemed to sober the policeman a great deal, for his expression changed to one of concern.

  “The Soakes woman and the guy? They’re not your parents?”

  I shook my head and he whistled between his teeth.

  “The plot thickens, eh?”

  “I think they must be the ones who kidnapped Melanie,” offered Jack. “There can be no other explanation for their behavior yesterday and today.”

  Bill nodded, and walked into the room, then suddenly spun around and faced Jack. “I don’t trust you, Carter. So why don’t you start by explaining to me about your part in all of this, huh? Why the subterfuge? And why the hell did you abduct Melanie from the hospital?”