Billionaire's Game

by Summer Cooper

  And Lily is exactly right. Liam and Cameron don’t want to kill her. Not at all. What she doesn’t know? They’ve both fallen for her…and Liam and Cameron have always shared everything. If she’s not careful, Lily is about to discover just how good it can feel to be bad.

  Chapter One

  “Just a few more things, I promise.” Lily flashed a smile up at James as she filed the last handwritten correspondence. She would type them up and send them tomorrow, early, before anyone was in the office.

  “Don’t apologize.” James Dominick’s voice was deep, tolerant, amused. “You’re the one who had to go out of your way to finish things up. You should be home.”

  But he sounded pleased as well. As far as she knew, he never stopped working. The lunches she brought him were often uneaten when she came to check on him a few hours later. He often beat even Lily to the office, and he stayed late. She knew from the emails he received that even when he went home, he was still thinking of his business ventures. He might tell her to take time off, but she knew he was glad to have someone as devoted as he was himself. She sensed that he got lonely sometimes.

  Not that he would ever admit it. James was one of the premier businessmen in the world. His reach stretched into energy, food, and cloud computing, commodities…anything and everything she could imagine, he did. He thrived on his success, and he was far too stubborn to admit anything else might be lacking. Too stubborn, and too ruthless. James never hesitated to sacrifice anything that would ensure his success—and until he could, Lily knew he would never be able to have a relationship.

  She had never told him, but she liked to think that she was slowly changing him. When she first came to his office, she’d been a secretary for one of the most junior staff, and everyone had been terrified of him. So terrifying was Lily’s boss that she was often sent to be the bearer of bad news; seeing how scared they all were, she couldn’t bring herself to insist that they do it. And when James yelled at her and told her just what to say to them when she went back, she’d done the inadvisable: told him that they were scared of him, that it wasn’t good management policy, and that he should be nicer to them all.

  She’d been his secretary ever since, and if a few cynical people complained that it was just to make his image better without having to change at all, she liked to think that he saw the value in it. He’d even wished her a Merry Christmas this year, which was something she couldn’t even imagine when she began working for him. He was making progress.

  And she…well, Lily didn’t like to think about her own life. Everything had been going so well lately: business contracts falling into place with eerie precision, her apartment clean and cozy, a new satin nightgown…

  …That no one ever got to see. Lily tried to shove the thoughts away, but for weeks now she had been looking around at her neat little life—well-packed lunchboxes, pretty work clothes, perfectly-worded emails—and wondering if something was missing. She’d always done everything perfectly. Wasn’t it supposed to feel…better than this? She found herself dreaming, over a glass of white wine, about doing something reckless, something poorly-behaved.

  Something like daydreaming while at a one-on-one meeting with her boss, perhaps? She shook her head to clear it, realizing he’d been staring at her while she’d been staring off into nowhere.

  “Lily?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She opened up the next folder. “All right. I got a very strange email earlier today from a…Kenneth Watts.” She looked up and saw him go still.

  “What did it say?” He asked, and his voice was tight.

  “That he knows what you did. Frankly, it seems very much like some of the other emails you get. People are always angry about successful business deals, you know.” She tried to tempt him into a laugh or a smile, but he was having none of it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” He demanded.

  “Because you were in meetings all day,” Lily protested. “You told me to interrupt you only if the transnational trade bill went through.”

  “And it didn’t occur to you to look this man up?”

  “No,” Lily said firmly, recognizing the downswing of his temper. “It did not. There was no reason for me to do so. Whatever you think I should know about this man—”

  “When did the email come in?”

  “10 AM.”

  He swore.

  “James, what on earth is going on?”

  “That man,” he said savagely, “has taken it upon himself to police the business world. He doesn’t like my deals. He wants to punish me for them.”

  “It’s hardly wrong to make business deals everyone agrees to,” Lily said gently. It was the refrain he used in such situations, and she felt confident that it would calm him. When he only looked at her bleakly, she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. She knew. She knew he’d done something terrible, she just didn’t know what. “James, what did you do?”

  “Nothing,” he hissed.

  She met his eyes, and he grimaced at her.

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

  “I’m your secretary! I send all of your emails. I know your secrets.”

  “Not all of them.” His voice was clipped.

  “What on earth wouldn’t you be willing to tell me?”

  “I—” But his phone buzzed, and his face went white when he looked at the screen. “I have to make a call.”

  “But—”

  He was already gone, taking the stairs to the second floor two at a time. Lily slumped back in her chair, thinking furiously. Something about this email had seemed off to her. People normally railed at James in their emails, telling him that karma or God or luck would come to get him for what he’d done. She was used to ignoring those. This one, so short and chilling, had gotten her attention.

  The door behind her opened so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it at all. The key had been turned near-silently, and the door itself swung inwards with only the faintest creak. But a creak there was, and a faint swirl of cold air, and Lily felt the back of her neck prickle. Heart suddenly pounding, she turned, telling herself that it was the settling of the building and nothing more.

  Three men in black stood there, heavily armed, staring her down.

  Lily screamed. She was running for the kitchen, for the exit at the other end of the house, knowing that she could not possibly outrun them and knowing she had to try anyway.

  “James!” Her voice echoed up the stairs. She looked back and felt another prickle. They weren’t following her, the men with guns. They were just watching her go. Why?

  The next second, she knew. She collided with a fourth as he stepped out of the shadows of the kitchen, a scream hastily covered by one black-gloved hand, her arm twisted behind her and her body locked against her captor’s. She struggled, wishing like hell she’d worn heels with points on the front of them, and wishing as well that she had started doing all of that strength training she’d planned on this year. She was no match for this man; his muscles might well have been iron, for all he was moved by her struggles.

  And it occurred to her, with a kind of hysterical clarity, that she had not been pressed up against a man like this in years. She could feel the rock-hard muscles of his thighs, the flatness of his stomach, and the bulge of his bicep where he held her in place. Ice-blue eyes met hers with piercing clarity, and something stirred in their depths. A deep breath moved that hard chest…

  “Search the house.” He spoke over her head, and then he turned her forcibly, picked her up, and carried her back to the couch, his hand still pressed over her mouth. Lily made a strangled noise that was supposed to be, why? And his muscles tightened. “Don’t. Make. A Sound.” His breath stirred the hair by her ear.

  She shivered with awareness, telling herself not to be stupid, that he was a hired thug, a man who would likely kill her sooner than bargain with her. It didn’t matter: her body was on fire, and she could not stop shaking. She
was very aware of where the buttons on her blouse had opened, and cold air caressed the heated skin of her breasts. She was very aware of his touch on her stomach where his arm kept her locked in place, her back pressed against his body.

  The rest of them came down the stairs a moment later, and Lily blinked. There were four now. More than one of them must have come in windows, getting into James’s highly protected house so easily that she could barely breathe for terror. They had been talking and these men had been coming for them, implacable and deadly…

  “Well?” Her captor asked, and one of them shrugged his shoulders angrily.

  “Safe room,” he said, muted anger running through his voice. “It’d take hours to get in there, and our call block will run out soon. We need to be out of here quick.” His gaze traveled over Lily.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Good question.” Her captor took his hand away. “Don’t scream.” The threat in his voice made her tremble. “Who are you?”

  “Lily McDermott. I’m Mr. Dominick’s secretary.”

  “Think she could talk him out?” One of the thugs asked, and the ringleader gave him a look.

  “No. But I think she could give him a good reason to change his mind on certain issues. Come on.” He started moving, dragging her toward the door.

  “What?”

  “You’re coming with us,” the man said, as if it was simple. He released her, making her stagger—making her traitorous body yearn for the touch of him again—and thrust her toward his second-in-command.

  “But why?” Lily whispered. She twisted to look up, and the second-in-command looked down at her with melting brown eyes. His voice, a pleasant alto, was almost regretful.

  “Mr. Dominick will need to change his mind on a few things before he gets you back.”

  Chapter Two

  She hadn’t wanted to cry, but once the first tear spilled down her cheek, she couldn’t seem to stop. And it was no use trying to keep the sobs quiet, either. She could muffle it to a few helpless whimpers of distress, but there were five of them in the back of this van and no one was going to miss her little gasps for air.

  What looks they shared amongst themselves, Lily did not know—her face was turned down at her lap as she tried to control herself—but to her surprise, none of them told her to shut up. No one hit her. No one made snide comments. She’d been bundled into the back of the van quickly, the second-in-command’s hand clamped around her upper arm, but he let her go as soon as she was safely away from the doors. She thought she felt him looking at her, and grimaced at the thought of those eyes. Bad men shouldn’t be so attractive.

  And then, minutes later in the darkness, her head jerked up.

  “He knew you were coming and he went to the panic room and just left me!”

  These were hardly people she could expect to sympathize, and she knew that, but she had no one else to say it to. To her surprise, a few of them nodded grimly, as if acknowledging that this was an entirely unacceptable thing to do. Given that they’d just kidnapped her, she didn’t know what to think of that.

  The van came to an abrupt halt and she was thrown sideways into the second-in-command’s lap. He set her upright gently, hands lingering on her back, and then took her arm again when one of them opened the door. It was odd the way he moved, she thought—half as if he couldn’t bear to touch her, half as if he wanted nothing more than to do so. He did not meet her eyes while he climbed out of the van with her, and she had only a glimpse of a house on an empty street before he laid his other hand, almost gently, over her eyes and guided her inside.

  They walked across hardwood floors and a few carpets, turning every once in a while, until they came to a room that smelled of old books and leather.

  “You can all go.” Their leader’s voice issued, still making shivers run down her spine. Footsteps receded and the door closed, but the man holding her did not go with the rest. He guided her a little ways further, and then took his hand away, gesturing to a brown leather chair.

  “Please.” As if this was a social situation. He walked over to the desk where the other one stood, poring over papers and photographs with a frown on his face.

  She waited, watching them. They were muttering to one another, absorbed in whatever it was that had happened, and she didn’t think they would notice if she slipped away. She started moving slowly, slipping her feet out of her high heels and padding across the carpet, eyes fixed on them.

  She was nearly at the door when they looked up and she turned to run, wrenching at the handle and finding it—of course, of course—locked. She jerked at the dial, but it was too late. Arms closed around her waist, and another pair of hands pried her fingers from the door handle. The second-in-command jerked her up against his body, hard, as their leader stood close to look down at her.

  “I wouldn’t do that again.”

  Awareness flared. His voice was rough and fiery, like whiskey on a cold night, and it seemed to slide over her skin like velvet, igniting desire in a flare of heat between her legs. Pressed between the two of them, she could feel the hard planes of his chest once more, see the faint light glinting off the stubble on his jaw, and she was captivated once more by those pale blue eyes—like ice, only hot enough to melt her.

  She wasn’t so captivated, though, that she couldn’t feel the heat of the second-in-command behind her. One of his hands held her arms locked behind her, and the other had come to rest on her hip. It felt awkward, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Almost as if he was trying to reassure her…but she could feel every nerve ending thrumming where his hand rested.

  “I…” Her voice trailed off. “What are you going to do with me?”

  Their eyes met over her head and she saw the leader’s jaw clench. They stepped backwards abruptly, and she stumbled against him, her hands on his chest.

  He thrust her away so fast that she might have been poison.

  “Go sit down. You’re in no danger now.”

  “How can you say that?” Lily demanded, and his eyes narrowed.

  “Sit. Down.”

  She padded over to the chair and sat, looking up at him sullenly. Somehow, the fact that this was a comfortable chair made her even less happy.

  “You work for Kenneth Watts,” she said defiantly, looking up at them.

  The second-in-command raised his eyebrows. “Well done.”

  “Cameron…”

  “Oh, come on. If she was dangerous, she’d have tried to do more than get away.” Brown eyes held blue ones until the leader shrugged, ill-tempered, and dropped into the seat behind the desk.

  The second-in-command smiled as he pulled off his face mask, revealing blond hair, clean-cut features, and a wide mouth that was presently smiling. He gave a mock bow that, to Lily’s surprise, seemed almost genuine.

  “I’m Cameron, as you’ll have guessed, and this is Liam.”

  “You’re hit-men.”

  “You’re awfully righteous for a woman who works with James Dominick,” the leader commented.

  “James Dominick does not hire people to go into houses in the middle of the night and abduct innocent women!” Lily said furiously. She waited for shame to cloud their features, but saw, instead, an almost pitying look pass between the two of them. “…Does he?”

  Cameron didn’t seem to want to answer. He looked away, folding his arms.

  “Yes,” Liam supplied finally, with a look at Cameron that said he was going to remember not having backup in this conversation.

  “Oh, my God.” She looked away, her head spinning, the world taking on some sick new shade. “Oh, God. What he’d done. The man said he knew what James had done. He kidnapped someone?” She looked back at them. It had to be a joke. They were messing with her mind. “He didn’t really kidnap someone.”

  “It seems that some of his business partners were rather less than cooperative lately,” Liam said softly. “He thought he might use pressure to tip the scales.”

  “Oh, my G
od.” It seemed like the only thing she could say. Her hand was at her mouth, and her words were muffled, but she knew they heard her. “The gold deal. It was that, wasn’t it?” The look in their eyes was sufficient answer, and Lily bent over, her face in her hands.

  She felt so stupid. How had she ever thought she was changing James? She’d been exactly what everyone called her: a front, a ruse. She was the nice one, the one who asked after people’s children and brought cookies on holidays. And James was free to be the same ruthless bastard he’d ever been, using her time and her words to send emails threatening his colleagues, his rivals. For all she knew, it had been she who put through the wire transfer to pay for the hit-men who cemented that gold deal.

  She was so stupid. She could have been more assertive, spent more time trying to check his more ruthless impulses. She thought slow and steady was the way to go, and she’d been so wrong.

  A touch at her shoulder made her jump. To her surprise, it was Liam, looking deeply awkward as he tried to comfort her.

  “You should get some sleep. It’s very late.”

  Lily stared at him, chin trembling. She couldn’t seem to remember how to use any of her limbs, and with a sigh, he put his hands under her arms and lifted her up, easily, setting her on her feet and waiting to see if she would stay up. He was the one who opened the study door, Cameron’s hand on her back propelling her gently forward, and they led her through darkened corridors with Cameron’s low voice guiding her and his hand back over her eyes.

  Liam switched on a light—too bright to her eyes, after the dim study—to show a bed with a blue coverlet, a bedside table with an old-school windup alarm clock, and heavy curtains pulled down over the window.