Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8)

by Ruth Cardello

  As she’d rolled the words that had once shamed her around in her head, she’d realized they were only powerful because she’d chosen to carry them with her—to believe they somehow reflected who she really was.

  I didn’t sleep with half the town—or any of Greg’s friends. But would it have mattered if I had? I wasn’t his first. I’m sure I wasn’t his last. He wanted to hurt me and he used shame as his weapon.

  But what have I been ashamed of all this time?

  Of wanting to be loved?

  Of believing a boy who said he cared about me?

  Of having sex?

  Or being scared and considering the unthinkable?

  Wasn’t all of that natural?

  And how much longer will I allow the actions of a teenage boy to affect my adult life?

  I’ve found a man who genuinely cares about me—a man who doesn’t want to take things further until he knows I’m ready.

  So what if a few ignorant people called me names.

  I’m not a child anymore.

  And I refuse to be ashamed of what I want.

  As she strode down the hall, she imagined the scene in slow motion, wind blowing through her hair, and a sensual smile spreading across her face.

  Angelina stopped at the door to Kimmie and Linda’s office and took a fortifying breath. Taking a leap of faith was scary, but the idea of never being brave enough to was even more frightening. All I have to do is believe in miracles, magic, and happy endings.

  She swung the door open and stepped through it with forced confidence. “Morning ladies.”

  “Morning, Angelina,” they echoed.

  “Is—Is—Is Connor in his office?”

  “He is,” Kimmie said, then smiled at Linda who returned the smile as if the two of them were in on a private joke.

  Connor appeared at his door. “Angelina.”

  Their eyes met and the ability to think coherently dissolved. “Connor.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning.”

  “I like your shirt.”

  “Thanks.”

  In the background, Linda said, “Kimmie, when you write this scene, we’ll spice up the dialogue.”

  “I hope I can capture this level of tension.” Kimmie sighed. “I always thought the term sparks flying was so cliché, but I’m getting all flushed just standing next to them.”

  Linda stood. “On that note, where’s the office key? Let’s lock up as we go.”

  The sound of Kimmie’s desk drawer opening and closing was followed by them making a hasty retreat and closing the office door behind them.

  Angelina swallowed hard, but didn’t look away from the desire in Connor’s eyes. “Maybe I should be embarrassed, but I’m not.”

  Connor took a step closer to her. “Never be embarrassed with me.”

  Angelina stepped toward him. “I have a problem with something you said yesterday.”

  He took another step. “I said a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “You said you want to make me happy first, then make me yours. You can’t make someone happy. They have to choose that for themselves.”

  He nodded, but kept approaching. “Okay, then I want to be with you as you choose it.”

  When he stopped, he towered over her, so close she could feel the heat from his body. “And I’m a little offended that you don’t think I’m intelligent enough to appreciate good character in a man.”

  “Are you saying you like nice guys?” He traced the line of her jaw gently.

  “I don’t have a lot of experience with them, but I’d say that’s definitely what I’m looking for.” She placed her hand over his and held it to her cheek. “I’m trying to put it behind me, but I’ve got some baggage—mental baggage. I overthink things. I tend to fear the worst.” She closed her eyes briefly, then admitted, “Especially when things seem to be going well. I want to believe they can continue to, but . . . I’m afraid to.”

  He leaned down until his lips were just above his. “Oh my God. You’re . . . human.”

  She chuckled. How did he do it? How did he reach through her pain and draw her back into the light? “You mean everyone is this messed up?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Everything about being with Connor felt good. Her attraction to him went deeper than just sex. She could mindlessly bask in that smile of his all day. “I like you, Connor Sutton. I like you a lot.”

  He brought his other hand up to cup her face. “I like you too. And there’s no reason we need to rush. I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready.”

  Real panic flashed through her, but she pushed it back. This was the side of him she’d sensed during his talk to the soccer team. So kindhearted. So openly caring. He was the answer to a yearning she hadn’t allowed herself to admit she had. “What if I’m ready now?”

  His face flushed. “Well, okay then.” The kiss she expected didn’t come, instead his smile faded and he looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

  Embarrassment flooded in and she stepped back from him. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  He reached out, taking both of her hands in his. “You don’t understand and that makes sense since you don’t even know me yet. Which me do you want to fuck? The one you saw in the movie? He doesn’t exist. The one you met at Reemsly? He doesn’t either.”

  Angelina attempted but failed to free her hands from his. Why was he ruining what could have been such a beautiful moment? “I want the man who spoke about bullies to the soccer team. Are you that man or is he an act too?”

  “No, that’s all me.” Connor frowned. “Do you like working here?”

  “Yes.” Where was this going?

  In the quiet moment that followed, all kinds of dark thoughts circled but she kept telling herself things would work out. Her fears weren’t premonitions. They were simply—fears. Connor was a good man and he was trying to tell her something. She could panic or she could listen.

  After giving her hands a light squeeze, he said, “The Landon Foundation makes a difference in people’s lives on a daily basis. I’ve never been part of something like that before. What if we fuck on my desk and you feel awkward tomorrow? Will you quit? Will you think I want you to? You’re good at what you do. This place needs you and it’s the perfect job for you. I don’t want to mess that up. Whatever we do, I need to know you won’t go back to a place like Reemsly.”

  Nice didn’t begin to describe Connor. So decent. So kind. Probably a better person than I’ve ever been. “I don’t want to go back there either.” By there, she meant not only to her old employment situation, but also to being someone who couldn’t trust this side of Connor to be real. “I’m starting to believe in miracles, magic, and happy endings.”

  He smiled. “That’s a lot of pressure. I don’t perform miracles. I’ve never been good at sleight of hand tricks. However, I am particularly gifted when it comes to mutual happy endings.”

  “I believe you.” She laughed and hugged him. What a goof, but one that made her heart lighter. “Please don’t call anyone else to confirm it.”

  His chest rumbled with his laughter, and he hugged her closer.

  She stood there for a moment, simply enjoying being enveloped by him.

  He tucked her under his chin, and said, “I don’t always think things through, but I’m working on it.” He sighed. “I laugh too loud. If I get past three beers I’m probably finishing the case. I love to make people laugh even if means tossing all dignity aside. That’s who I am.”

  She absorbed his words and considered them before saying, “I’ve spent the last thirteen years going to bed thinking about everything I did wrong that day and waking up worried about what I’d do wrong next. That’s who I am.” She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “Sometime, I’d like to laugh too loud and not care what anyone thinks. What do you think about that?”

  His smile returned. “Are you afraid of flying?”r />
  “Sorry?”

  “I just had an aneurism. No, an epiphany. I just figured out the best way for us to have sex.”

  Angelina’s eyebrows rose. “You did?”

  “You’re going to love this.”

  Connor took out his phone and with one arm still around Angelina called his pilot. “Will, I need you to come pick me up at my office, but I have a special request.”

  “Absolutely, Mr. Sutton. What do you need?”

  “Remember that copter we used in Dallas? The big one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have that, but with a bed?”

  “A bed?”

  By his tone, it didn’t sound like one was an option. “How about a couch? Something long enough for someone my height to recline on.”

  “Sir, you do realize due to fuel consumption and the size of the craft you’re requesting, the time in the air at most would be two hours.”

  “That would be more than enough time.”

  “Do you have a destination in mind?”

  Connor met Angelina’s surprised gaze and asked, “Do you have a helipad on your building?”

  Angelina shook her head.

  “We’ll go to my apartment, then—the long way.”

  “The long way, sir?”

  “Whatever way takes about two hours. Text me when you’re here.” Connor ended the call feeling pretty good about it. He snapped his fingers. “We should make a packing list. Claire says they’re essential.” He patted his pockets. “Condoms. I didn’t bring any with me. How about you?”

  Angelina’s cheeks went delightfully pink, then she said, “Three.”

  “Fantastic.” He kissed her lips briefly then stepped back and looked around. “We’ll need some tape and paper from the copy machine.”

  Looking bemused, Angelina didn’t move to gather either. “Why?”

  It didn’t seem like it should require explanation, but maybe it did. “We don’t know how many helicopters will be up in the air while we are. Everyone has already seen my naked ass, but do you really want yours to hit the internet? Cameras are everywhere.”

  Still, she stood there, smiling without moving. “Are you planning to tape up the windows of a helicopter so we can have sex in it?”

  He thought that over. “You think they come with shades? Of course they probably do. Rich people think of everything. Hang on, I’ll text Will to make sure he chooses a craft that does.” After sending that request, he also wrote: On the way, fill the passenger cabin with white roses. Hundreds. Pick up some champagne. Something good. And bill Clay Landon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A short time later, Angelina’s hand tightened on Connor’s as they watched a large helicopter land on the roof of the office building. The pilot hopped out, ducked, and ran toward them. “Mr. Sutton. Sorry about the delay. Everything is as you requested.”

  “Perfect,” Connor yelled to be heard above the sound of the rotors. He turned to Angelina. “Do you have everything?”

  If he was referring to her purse and the condoms she’d stashed in it—then yes. “All set,” she said and made a thumbs-up motion.

  Connor held their linked hands up, turned back to the pilot, and called out, “Roger, this is Angelina. If things work out the way I’m hoping, you’ll be flying the two of us around from now on. I can imagine forever with her.”

  Angelina’s mouth dropped open in surprise and remained that way even as she shook Roger’s hand. Forever? It was fast . . . too fast? She wasn’t sure.

  “Nice to meet you, Roger.” It was strange to be yelling pleasantries, but it was the only way to be heard.

  Roger leaned down, and in Angelina’s ear said clearly, “You break his heart, I’ll drop you from the sky.” He straightened and flashed her a smile.

  Angelina’s eyes widened.

  Roger clapped a hand on Connor’s back and yelled, “Best boss ever.”

  Connor was all smiles. “Then make it a smooth ride.”

  “Will do, Mr. Sutton,” the pilot said then waved for them to follow him to the back of the helicopter.

  With Connor’s assistance, Angelina started to climb in, then stopped. The rear of the chopper was a wall-to-wall, three-seater, ivory leather couch. Every inch of the interior was covered with white rose petals. Vases of long-stemmed white roses were placed strategically around the cabin. Between two ivory captain chairs that flanked the cockpit a bottle of champagne was chilling on ice on a mahogany bar.

  There was no pretending Roger didn’t know what they were about to do.

  The question Angelina mulled over was did she care? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had sex since being with Whitney’s father. She’d been with two other men, but sex hadn’t added depth to either relationship. If anything, it had weakened them.

  Not because they judged me for sleeping with them, but because I did. She turned and met Connor’s gaze. Is he right? Should we wait?

  She glanced at Roger. His expression was politely blank.

  A helicopter full of white rose petals.

  Connor wants to whisk me away into the sky and just said he can imagine forever with me.

  It’s almost—magical.

  “Don’t let me mess this up,” she said to herself.

  His expression turned tender. He couldn’t have heard her, but he said, “If it’s too much, we can catch a movie instead. No pressure. No worries. Your choice. Roger can fill the helicopter with roses every day until you’re ready. Or not. What do you want, Angelina?”

  He was the first man to ask her that question and really want the answer.

  Angelina leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him. His arms came around her, but he merely held her to him, their breathing finding a common rhythm. It was a moment of gratitude, of friendship, and that was when she first imagined what happily ever after could be like.

  She wanted a man who could love her son, a man she could be herself with, someone strong enough to lean on, but kind enough to never use that strength against her.

  Connor was that kind of man.

  She hugged him tighter. “I want to do this.”

  His playful smile reassured her that she hadn’t ruined the mood. “Then get the hell in.”

  She laughed and released him, stepping inside the cabin and sliding all the way down to one end of the couch. He joined her and secured both of their seat belts.

  As soon as the door closed, the noise of the rotors fell away—replaced by a soft jazz melody. The cabin tipped as the helicopter took off and Angelina grabbed Connor’s hand.

  Connor dipped his head down to near hers. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of flying.”

  She tipped her chin higher and tried not to look out the window. “I’m not afraid, it’s just my first time.”

  “Helicopter virgin,” he joked. “If it makes you feel better, I’m still figuring out the logistics of how this could best work.”

  “Really? And what have you come up with?”

  Desire flashed in his eyes. “Come here.” He gave one of his thighs a pat.

  It wasn’t a command.

  It was an invitation and one she was willing to accept. She released her seat belt and hiked up her skirt so she could straddle his lap on her knees which brought her nearly face-to-face with him. “Yes?” she asked playfully.

  He ran his hands up the back of her thighs, beneath the back of her skirt. “I asked Roger. No one can see inside the windows.”

  “That’s a relief,” she said with a chuckle as she balanced herself by holding on to his shoulders.

  His strong hands slid higher and his smile widened as they were not impeded by more than a thin strip of lace. “Angelina Kroll, were you thinking of me when you dressed this morning?”

  It was impossible not to smile back and there was no reason to lie. “I was. I don’t want to brag, but the bra matches.”

  “Nice.” He ran his hands down then up her legs again, a warm, easy, erotic caress. “I
didn’t think you’d see mine, but I chose one with a message that is fitting anyway.”

  Her hands explored his upper body as they spoke. His thick, muscled neck. Those amazing arms of his. She brought her hands between them and ran them over his well-defined chest. “What does it say?” She leaned forward, kissed his neck, and breathed in the clean, intoxicating scent of him.

  His breathing deepened and he cleared his throat. “Possibilities are infinite for those who believe.”

  For those who believe.

  She froze and raised her head. “I’m starting to believe.”

  He cupped her ass gently. “But you’re scared.”

  She looked deeply into his eyes. “You’re not?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. “Not with you. Something clicked in me when we first met. I saw forever with you. It was crazy. I imagined our kids, a house, the whole thing. Then you nearly bored me into a coma which almost convinced me I was wrong, but I’m glad I gave you a second chance.”

  She sat up straighter and gasped. “Bored you?”

  He did an impression of her voice if spoken by an old English librarian. “Reemsly was founded in 1912 by the Amish. This building is made entirely with bricks. Let’s count them together. One. Two. Three.”

  Angelina flicked Connor on the shoulder. “I didn’t say any of that. You weren’t even listening, were you?”

  He laid his head back and pretended to snore.

  She tickled his side, which jolted him back up straight. “I was trying to impress you. My job depended on it.”

  “It doesn’t anymore.” He caught her hands in his and his expression turned serious. “And stay clear of anything to do with that place, at least for the time being. Mr. Svete won’t be there much longer and the more you distance yourself from that situation, the better.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “My guess? Whatever he deserves. Most likely prison. You weren’t fired because you gave crappy tours. He’s dirty.”

  “What do you mean dirty? Like guilty of something? Of what?”

  Connor shrugged. “Not my place to say.”

  “And how do you know?”

  Connor shrugged again.