“I won’t sleep with you,” she hissed. “Neither of you.”
Deacon chuckled. It was enough to make her want to lunge at him. He had a sexy smile, that made him even more irritating. Did women find his cockiness attractive? Was that how he got his reputation.
“I’m only offering drinks,” Cole stated. “How about a glass of wine so we can talk? No sex right now. I promise. We are at the office, my dear.”
She didn’t want to move an inch in their direction. She didn’t like how they mocked her. Or how apparent their sex appeal was. They had to be close to 6’3” or 6’4”. Deacon was slightly taller than Cole. Along with the height came broad shoulders and chiseled jaws. If she didn’t know better, she could have mistaken them from brothers. One with light features. The other with dark.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Deacon opened a hand toward her. “We won’t bite. We want to talk. Let’s get to know each other a little.”
“I was sold into an arrangement without my consent by my cousin, stuffed in the trunk of a car, dragged in here against my will, and you think cocktail hour is a problem I need to consider? And I hate martinis.”
“That answers one question.” Cole corked the gin and poured a glass of deep red wine. “It sounds like if anyone needs a drink, it would be you. Here. Drink.”
She stormed over to the bar. “Fine.” She snatched the goblet from his hand.
“Good. I hope you enjoy it. Let’s sit.” He pointed to an open chair for her.
Abby took a sit and assessed her new set of captors. Her heart still pounded, but after a sip of wine, she was calm enough to consider a conversation rather than arguing. The rage had settled to a low boil.
Deacon’s dark gaze was distracting. His eyes trailed all over her body. It made her feel strangely uncomfortable and attractive at the same time. Cole didn’t make things any better. His blue eyes were like something out of a movie. She had never seen blue that color before.
They were certainly an upgrade from Johnson and his burly hands.
She took another gulp of wine. Maybe getting drunk was the answer.
“Abby, Deacon and I want you to know you are our guest during this arrangement.”
“Guest?” she sputtered on the wine. “A guest who can never leave? A guest who didn’t accept an invitation?”
She saw the look that transpired between them.
“We don’t have that level of trust yet,” Cole explained. “The terms of the arrangement are that you are to remain in Deacon’s custody for thirty days. I don’t see why as time goes by you can start to have more freedom to come and go. That has to be earned of course.”
Her eyes darted to Deacon. “This is your debt Cal has to pay? You wanted a prisoner?”
He nodded. He didn’t bother to hide his smile. “The best game of poker I’ve ever won.”
“Poker? I’m here because of poker? A stupid game of poker,” she muttered under her breath.
Cole shook his head. “Jesus, Deac. Do you have to be an ass from the get-go?” He traded seats so he could sit next to Abby. Cole seemed to be the more level-headed one between the two.
“Deacon and I are business partners. Co-CEOs to be exact.”
“I know all about HiTech Global. I hate to admit it, but I used to study your graphic arts department.” She bit her tongue. She had studied more than their graphics, but that was a secret she had to keep.
“Really?”
Abby nodded. “I said I used to.” That was in the past.
Cole bit the inside of his cheek and turned toward Deacon. “What’s your background Abby?”
“Are you saying you didn’t get a bid sheet on me?” she mocked.
“I was hoping for something more personal than that.”
“I’m Cal Mantelli’s cousin,” she answered reluctantly.
“No, not that. What are you interests? Skills? Did you go to college? Tell us something about yourself.”
The wine made her feel fiercer than she actually was. The adrenaline had started to fade and she was nervous. She didn’t know if she could handle these two tycoons.
“Yes I graduated the top of my class with a visual arts degree. Why? Are you trying to figure out if that deducts points because I might have operating brain cells? Does that intimidate you?”
Cole pressed his lips together. “No. I like a smart woman.” He rubbed his chin. “I thought you might be interested in a job while you are here.”
Deacon leaned forward. “Cole, we haven’t discussed this. What did you have in mind?”
The men turned toward each other. “We need an artist to design the logo and complete interface for the Rockans Foundation,” Cole answered.
“But that’s a high-level campaign. I’ve been considering candidates for weeks. It’s the pinnacle of the Vegas launch.”
Abby leaned back in her chair while they discussed her. It was no different than Cal.
“She’s here. She has a degree. I think we could use a fresh take on the art,” Cole argued.
“This isn’t the type of project that can be completed in thirty days. It’s our cornerstone.”
Cole smiled. “Perhaps, she’s the type of artist who would like the challenge and would stay beyond the requirement.”
His sapphire eyes landed on hers and her heart stilled. As much as she had tried to be unaffected by them, it wasn’t working.
“I never agreed to any of this.”
Cole exhaled. “I’m trying to make this worth your while. Deacon is right. The art director for this campaign should be a seasoned expert. Someone with years of experience in the industry. Honestly, I think it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone without those credentials. Why not take the job for the next month and see what you can do with it?”
“Are you serious?” She cocked her head sidewise. “You’re trying to sugarcoat this with a job offer?”
Deacon smirked. “I’d take it sweetheart. Cole is being more than generous.”
“Right. Of course.” She settled into the chair. “Just tell me. Along with the art, what do I have to do to get your trust so I can leave when I want? Daily blowjobs? Would that work?”
Deacon leaned forward. “You are our guest. You are our travel companion. And we will never order or ask you for anything sexual. Is that understood?”
She noticed how his neck tensed. The easy smile he had faded.
She nodded, yet she didn’t completely believe him. Why else would they want her to stay with them?
“Dinner is at six o’clock,” Cole explained. “We will see you then.”
“Are you dismissing me?”
“Did you need something else?” he asked. “Douglas is in the hall. He will escort you the house. He will show you to your room. You’ll find everything you need there. We will see you at dinner.”
Abby rose from the chair in disbelief. “I’m taking the wine with me.” She clutched the wine and marched out of the office. She had no idea what in the hell had just happened.
4
Deacon
He spun around to face Cole. He didn’t know if he had the words to describe what just happened. Shit like that didn’t happen to him. Never.
“Fuck, did you see her?”
Cole shook his head. “Yeah, I saw her.”
“She hates us, doesn’t she?”
“What did you think would happen? You bought her in a poker game. Why couldn’t you stick with gambling for cars or horses? Cash? Why her, Deac. Why?”
Deacon pushed off the couch and paced around the room. “Damn. She’s perfect. More than perfect.” He hung his head. “She is incredible.” He’d never seen more beautiful lips on a woman. Her hair was golden—it almost shimmered as if she were an angel. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“You wanted an empress.”
“Instead I got a caged panther.”
Cole stood next to him. “I’d say back out of the deal, but…”
He cut him off. “No. We can’t let h
er go.”
Cole shook his head. “No. We can’t. On this, I actually agree with you for once. Even if I completely disagree with how she came to us.”
“Are you ever going to stop giving me shit about it?”
He knew he gambled too much. He knew sometimes it got out of hand, but this was the one time it had paid off. His bet brought the most amazing woman into their lives. A sassy spitfire with gorgeous tits and an ass that was round and soft. And there was an entirely unexpected side—she was an artist.
It was a part of his life he had never been able to share with anyone before. He had collected for years. Toured the world, visiting the most prestigious collections he could find..
“She isn’t going to go for this, Deac.”
“Then, we do it the old-fashioned way,” he decided.
“Old fashioned way?” Cole questioned.
“We seduce her with everything we have. We will be relentless. Put everything on the table. Everything.”
“I don’t know that Abby is the kind of girl who is going to fall for that. You saw that look. It’s clear Cal Mantelli isn’t her favorite person, and I’m certain she has added our names to that list.”
“That may be so. But we have thirty days to make her ours. And I plan on using every second we have to make sure that happens.”
It took everything he had not to kiss her when she was here. He had taken one look at her and wanted to know what those plump lips would taste like. What kinds of sounds she would make when he kissed her. How her eyes would light when he touched her.
“Are you with me?” he asked his friend.
Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “For a chance with her? Yes I am. I’m all in, if we can make this work.”
“Then the opening in Vegas this weekend will be the perfect chance to show her what we can give her.”
“Let’s just get through dinner first.”
5
Abby
It didn’t matter that the drapes were made from imported silk or that she had her own fireplace. Abby didn’t care that there was a closet full of designer gowns, and more high heels than she had seen in a department store.
These walls were her prison. A beautiful expensive prison. And she hated it.
She turned on the TV and sank onto the pile of pillows. She scowled, despising how comfortable the bed was. It would make it easier if they gave her a bed of thorns to sleep on—not luxurious linens.
Who did these assholes think they were? There was nothing about them that seemed like the thugs Cal usually did business with. They were refined. Polished. And they had money. They weren’t trying to hide how rich they were. She doubted they had made a single deal in the back of an ally or resorted to petty theft to pay bills.
From their expensive suits to the custom details in the mansion. They were loaded. Their reputations as Chicago’s infamous bachelors were hard to miss. They were splashed on social media. There were even blogs about Deacon and Cole. The last article she read put together a bracket list on which Chicago socialites would be able to snag the duo. She wondered what the world would think if they knew this is what they did.
She wasn’t going to get caught up in the riches. Abby knew money was fleeting. She had learned that the hard way. She had seen her family’s fortune go up in flames when her father lost everything in a real estate deal. They lost it all: the cars, the land, her mother’s jewelry, and their house.
It wasn’t long after his financial ruin that her father learned he was sick. Life went from bad to worse. Money meant nothing and everything at the same time.
Abby wandered to the window and stared out at the manicured grounds. There was an infinity pool that stretched the length of the house. It had to be heated.
She would do anything to trade the money to have her father back. She watched the landscaper trimming hedges. The money almost made her sick. She had seen how hard he worked to make sure they never wanted for anything. But what was the point?
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” she called.
Douglas entered. “Mr. Rockford and Mr. Evans would like for you to wear this for dinner, Miss Mantelli.” He presented her with a gown tucked inside a leather garment bag.
She rolled her eyes. “Is there something wrong with my sweater and jeans?” She folded her arms. She knew the boots were cute.
“Dinner at the manor is formal.” He cleared his throat. “Appropriate dress is required.”
“Fine. I’ll wear the damn dress.”
She attempted to yank it from his gloved hands.
“It is a one-of-a-kind Shera. It’s delicate, Miss Mantelli.”
For a second she hesitated. “A Shera?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
She wasn’t going to be seduced by the price tag on this dress. She didn’t care if it was a twenty-thousand dollar gown. They were showing off. Paying her off. It wasn’t going to work.
She took it from Douglas. “I’ll wear it, but only because I have to.”
It was hard not to peek. She waited for the butler to leave the room. “Is there anything else they would like to decree?” she snarled.
He walked toward the door. “Dinner is promptly at six.”
“I will be there.”
She didn’t have a choice. She thought about her options. There were none. She had to put on the dress and march down the stairs like the piece of property she was. For the next thirty days Cole and Deacon owned her. There was no way around that unless she could prove herself through her art.
For thirty-days she had to survive in this golden castle. Endure the loneliness. Bear the brunt of what they expected. Her stomach rolled. She had no doubt what she was expected to do. They might have acted like gentlemen. They might disguise their motives with lavish gifts. They might try to hide behind a job offer at HiTech Global. But she knew. It was an elaborate sham.
They bought her.
They owned her.
And the price was sex.
6
Abby
Abby had to hold the banister to keep from tripping over the train on the black gown. The beading made it heavy as it clung to her body. Her heels were high and if she tipped forward, there was a chance she would tumble down the winding staircase.
The dress cut in a low V to her navel and draped gracefully off her shoulders. It was hard to deny how elegant and sexy it was. The slight train gave it a glamorous feel. It seemed ridiculous to wear this to dinner in the dining room, but she did as she was told. Douglas didn’t seem like the kind of man who joked around, and she wasn’t interested in testing Deacon or Cole.
When she reached the bottom of the staircase she peered around the corner looking for the dining room. The house was eerily dark and quiet.
She didn’t know what it would be like living with two bachelors. Whether they would have sports blaring on the TV at all times. If they would smoke cigars or walk around in their underwear. These two men didn’t seem like other bachelors. They were different.
She listened for the sound of Deacon and Cole talking and walked toward the front entrance of the mansion. An overpowering chandelier hung in the foyer. In front of her was the front door.
There was no one here. No one to see her. No one to stop her.
She slowly picked up the train, weighted by the intricate beading work. Was she actually considering making a run for it? Could she run through the front door to her freedom? How long would it take for them to notice she was gone?
There was no way she would make it far in these heels. She looked to her right. Then her left. The house was quiet. She slid off her shoes, feeling tiny without them to give her extra height. She hiked the dress to her hip, using the open slit in the side as an advantage. She tiptoed toward the massive set of doors.
She didn’t know where she would go on the other side. With each step she took she tried to think of how this could pan out. Would Cal track her down? Would he punish her for ruining his payment
plan? What if Deacon and Cole had an angry side she hadn’t picked up on? Would she have to serve a longer term if they caught her?
There wasn’t time to hash out every scenario. It was now or never.
She reached the handle. It was embellished and carved. Her fingers rested on the design. On the other side was the dark night. Night that offered a chance to run. A chance to escape. Night that held more fear. Held retaliation. A life that would never be certain. She pressed her forehead into the planes of the door.
She heard footsteps behind her and jumped. She quickly maneuvered away from the door.
“Going somewhere?”
It was Cole.
She plastered a smile on her face and turned to face him. “I-I had a cramp in my foot from the shoes,” she lied. “I was walking it out in the foyer. The marble is cool on my feet.”
He bent toward the floor and retrieved her heels. They looked tiny in his hands.
“Let me help.”
He strolled toward her and knelt at her feet. Abby felt her throat tighten. She fought back the tears. The regret sank into her shoulders and worked through her body. Tonight’s freedom was gone. She waited too long and let the obstacles paralyze her instead of taking a chance. It was her own fault. She blinked back the first tear.
Cole touched her ankle, raising it from the floor. “How is this?” He slid it into the shoe and then assisted her other foot while she used his shoulder as a balance barre.
She nodded. “I think it’s fine now.”
He grinned, rising slowly from the marble. “You look stunning, Abby.”
It happened involuntarily, but she shivered. It was the good kind. It felt tingly and electric. She wanted to slap herself. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was her warden, not some kind of prince.
“Thank you.” Her eyes darted away from him, but landed on Deacon strolling toward them.
Beauty and the Billionaire Bachelors Page 2
