ROMANCE: Billionaire Romance: Tantalizing Temptation (New Adult, Short Stories, Billionaire Romance, Contemporary BBW Romance)
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COPYRIGHT
WARNING: This eBook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This eBook is for sale to adults ONLY.
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Copyright 2015 by R.E. Swanson - All Rights Reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Foreword
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Tantalizing Temptation
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Foreword
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Tantalizing Temptation
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Billionaire Romance
It was six a.m. when my alarm went off. I rolled out of bed, pushing aside a stack of notebooks, pens, and manuscripts. Usually I worked with manuscripts on the computer, but every now and then a hopeful author or agent sent me a hard copy.
It was time to get ready for work, but I took a moment to look lovingly at the romance novel I’d been editing late into the night. His Mistress’s Arms—a historical about a misunderstood king. It was one of my “pet projects” that my boss, Kale, had allowed me to take on as long as I continued to edit the other manuscripts I was given.
Kale owned a high-class publishing company, one that had quickly risen from the ranks to eclipse the other “big five” houses. He had an uncanny knack of finding editors who discovered the blockbuster fiction and nonfiction, and we always had several titles on the bestseller lists.
There were two things I loved about my job. One, I got to work with words all day, every day, and two, I got to work with Kale. Words were great because they were perfect. There was spelling, and punctuation, and grammar, and forming the words into sentences that sang. And Kale was great because he was the most handsome man specimen I’d ever laid eyes on, with deep green eyes and dark hair, and a smile that he didn’t often bestow, but when he did, people everywhere swooned.
After a quick shower, I pulled on my black leggings and a loose-flowing tunic, then I stuck my hair up in a messy bun. I ran some lipstick over my lips, swiped some eyeshadow on my lids, and I was ready to go.
The commute on the subway allowed me a little time to work on His Mistress’s Arms. We’d gotten past all of the initial edits, and now we were down to line edits. If I were a senior editor, I could’ve passed these onto someone beneath me, but as it was, I was one of the lowly editors. I didn’t mind, though; I loved getting into the minutiae of working with sentences and diction—I was always chasing perfection. The section I was currently in was particularly tricky—the king had just learned of his heir, who has been hidden from him by his mistress for years. While the author had done an incredible job showing his shock, I thought she could do more to wring the emotion out of the scene. I jotted down some notes just as the train arrived at my stop.
*
As I walked into the office, I was greeted by Nate, one of the secretaries, and my closest friend.
“Coffee,” he said with his bubbly smile.
I kissed his cheek then took a sip of the coffee. “Exactly what I needed this morning. You’re a saint.”
“I know,” Nate said, chuckling. He sat back down in his chair, and I headed into my office. I put my bag down and set His Mistress’s Arms on my desk. Then I surreptitiously walked over to my door to peek at Kale’s office across the hallway. He wasn’t in yet. I shook my head, smiling. How nice it must be to roll in whenever he felt like it, simply because he was the boss and he could afford to.
My days at work followed a predictable pattern. Review and edit manuscripts, then send them off to Kale so he could review them before publication. He insisted on reading every single book we put out, and if anything needed to be redone or changed, I would usually be the one to do it. It made for long work days, and sometimes my work crept into the weekends as well.
Just as I sat down at my desk, Kale’s familiar form passed my office door. He didn’t look in to say hello, which was just fine by me, as it allowed me to feast my eyes on his perfect, broad shoulders, his short brown curls, and the faint stubble that graced his jaw. He had a tendency to always look intense, something about the way his eyebrows angled downward in a permanent scowl. I’d often fantasized about taking his face in my hands and kissing away that scowl, until the intense look turned to one of pleasure.
*
The day went by quickly, a little too quickly, and before I knew it, I was the only one in the office with Kale. I looked at the time on my computer; it was nine o’clock already, and now I was working overtime. Except, for me, such a thing didn’t exist. I was on salary.
I sighed deeply, and saved my work on my computer. From down the hall, I could hear Kale walking towards my office. My heart skipped a beat, and I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Kale knocked on the door and I motioned for him to come in, waiting for my computer to save and turn off.
“I know, I know, it’s late,” I said. Standing up from my chair and pushing it in, I looked at him. He had a small smile on his face and leaned up against the d
oor frame.
“That's not why I'm here,” he said, in a calm voice.
My eyes gazed into his for a long moment. “You're not?” I asked.
“No. I was wondering, are you free tomorrow night?”
“I'm working,” I reminded him. “A slave to the desk and all that.”
He returned my joking smile. “What if I gave you the day off? Then would you be free?”
Was this a trick question? Was he hitting on me, or was I getting fired? I answered his question hesitantly. “Yes, of course I’d be free if I had the day off. I have no other plans.”
The smile on his face became a smirk. “Good, you have the day off, and I'm picking you up.”
I now raised an eyebrow. “For?”
“A date, Angie,” he said. “I'm taking you out on a date.”
“If I say no?”
“Then you say no,” he said. “But then you'll have to come to work.”
Now he was playing games with me. Something in me wanted to keep the game going.
“Well, I do have a lot to get done.” I tapped on the thick manuscript of His Mistress’s Arms.
He frowned, and his deep brown eyes flashed with intensity. “What is it you’re working on?”
“A historical romance. Kings. Mistresses. Kinky sex in castles.”
He stalked forward and picked up the manuscript. “Maybe you could use some real-life experience to help your understanding of the prose.”
I gulped. I totally did need some real-life experience. It had been ages since I’d made time for a boyfriend, and even the relationship that had lasted longest had been rather lackluster in the bedroom. I had a habit of only feeling like milquetoasts were safe enough to approach. It was the hotties like Kale that I fantasized about…but I never acted on those fantasies.
My brain was screaming danger danger! but I tried to hide my fear. “What time will you pick me up?” I asked.
His face transformed from intense to joyous with his victorious smile. “Seven sound good?”
Gulping, I said, “Seven sounds perfect.”
*
I was finally home, and I sighed in relief as I plopped down on my bed. I closed my eyes, but I could still see Kale standing there in my office, asking me out on a date. Wouldn’t I be breaking all kinds of rules by dating my boss? Probably, but Kale owned the company so I guessed it didn't matter. When I slept, I dreamed about His Mistress’s Arms, with Kale playing the part of the sexy king, and me, of course, the mistress. The queen was a cold, faceless woman in the background, raising the king’s heir while having an affair of her own. The dream was strange, but when I awoke, I couldn’t easily shake the image of Kale wearing breeches, a crown, and nothing else.
*
Because I wasn't at work, the next day seemed to drag on and on, until Kale called in the evening. When I looked at the time, it was 6:45.
“I'm a little early,” he said, his voice warm over the phone. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, I'll be down in a minute.”
“All right.” He hung up the phone without a goodbye. That was one of my biggest pet peeves, not saying goodbye to someone when you're talking to them on the phone, even if you’re going to see them in three seconds, still the only polite way to end a call. Nobody was perfect, though. Not even His Majesty Kale.
I grabbed my purse and headed out of my apartment complex. I was surprised to see that Kale wasn’t in a Town Car; he was driving his Lamborghini. I’d always thought Lamborghinis were overrated rich people cars, but then again who was I to judge? I lived in a one-bedroom apartment and I worked for the guy.
Kale got out of the car to open the passenger side door for me. After I slid in, he walked around the front of the car.
“I'm a bit impressed,” I said.
He shut his door and put on his seat belt, looking at me with his beautiful green eyes. “You are?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“For one, you pick a girl up in your car instead of a limo, and for another, you clean up well after a long work day.”
He turned on the car and laughed lightly. “Honestly, I didn't go to work.”
“How come?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too nosy.
He shrugged as he started driving. “Because I can get away with not going. I had a few things to get ready for tonight.”
It sounded so mysterious, I couldn’t keep quiet.
“If you don't mind me asking, where are we going?”
“I remember you once saying to me that you liked candlelight dinners underneath the moon.”
“True,” I said, stunned. No one had ever done anything like this for me before. I was even more stunned that he had remembered everything I told him about me when I had an interview with him four years ago. Now thinking about it, the question “What kind of dates do you like to go on?” isn't really relevant for an interview…but at the time I thought he was trying to get a sense of my character. Now, I wondered if he hadn’t been interested in me all along, and a warm happy feeling spread through my chest.
“Well,” he said, “how about candlelight dinner on a boat? It’s supposed to be a full moon tonight.”
It was about an hour’s drive to the lake. When we pulled up, he led me to the docks and stepped lightly onto a beautiful yacht, taking my hand to help me up behind him. The moon shone in gently sparkling ripples over the water, and Kale’s hand was warm in mine. This had been the most beautiful thing I had experienced in my life.
“Can I ask why don't you have a girlfriend?” I looked at him, as he squeezed my hand a little tighter.
“Many reasons, but the main reason is because I generally attract the wrong sort of woman. They seem more interested in my money. But I can tell you’re not like that.”
Did he just imply that he wanted me to be his girlfriend? My heart gave a little leap of delight, as we had headed towards the Yacht. The sun was just starting to set, and I couldn't wait for the night to begin.
The moonlight was beautiful. We sat on the top deck, at a small round table that had a beautiful blue table cloth. Flickering candlelight illuminated the red and pink rose petals sprinkled over the table and along the deck surrounding us. It was magical. I had never in my life seen anything like this.
I took a bite of the grilled lobster and couldn’t help my moan of delight. “Who is your chef and what do I need to do to make her fall in love with me and cook for me forever?”
He smiled. “I cooked all the food myself.”
I could feel myself blushing. He was just full of surprises today. “I guess you know the way to my heart,” I said with a little laugh. “So you can cook, and drive yourself. You’re racking up all kinds of points,” I said.
He looked at me with a laugh. “Now we’re keeping score?”
“Yes,” I said, laughing. “Why not?” But there was a very good reason we shouldn’t keep score. Kale—Kale was magical. A force to be reckoned with. And I—I was a nobody. The thought came from nowhere, and lodged in my throat, making it difficult to swallow the delicious food Kale had prepared.
I shoved the thought aside, determined to have a good time. Even if at the end of the night he found me lacking, I would make the most of the time I had with this man.
Dinner went smoothly as we laughed, talked, and ate. I drank more champagne than I should have, and when Kale stood up and reached for my hand, I stood up next to him without asking questions. He pulled me into his arms, and his embrace was warm against the cool night air. He swayed with me, dancing to no music. At first I felt awkward, not finding my rhythm, but then I trusted Kale and listened to the music of the water lapping on the sides of the yacht, the music of the breeze moving amongst the leaves of the trees on shore.
Kale murmured into my hair, “I’m having the best time.”
I swallowed my jaded retort, wondering “why?” and instead said, “Me, too. This is the best date I’ve ever had.”
“Uh oh,” he said. “I guess I
’ll have a lot to live up to for our next date.”
I looked up at him. “Our next date?”
“Yes, Angie. I plan on taking you out again and again, as many times as you’ll let me.”
He smiled at me in the moonlight, and bent his head toward mine. I leaned up, not believing that he was going to kiss me and yet hoping so desperately he would. When his lips closed over mine, I thought I’d melt into a puddle of happiness.
*
As the weeks went by, Kale and I spent more and more time together. He kept to our initial bargain of giving me extra time off so I could go on dates with him, and I worried at first that people would think I was getting special favors for dating the boss. But working from home, I still managed to get all of my editing done, and I continued working on His Mistress’s Arms, as well, although not as fast and feverishly as I’d been working on it before. I hoped the writer wouldn’t be disappointed with the edits when I sent them, but at least I still had a lot of time.
Kale told me, at one point, that if things didn't work out between him and me, he would want an actual friendship, and even if we did just stay friends, he would keep my schedule the same so I could continue to work from home.
I felt like I’d fallen into an editor’s version of a fairytale. The only problem was, I’d always been more comfortable with words and stories. I’d hid in them from the time I was a little girl, finding refuge in fantasy and imagination more than the real world. But Kale was very, very real.
*
As the months passed and the days grew longer, the time I spent with Kale had been the best six months I of my lifetime. We could tell each other everything, we could be honest with each other without getting angry. It was the kind of relationship most girls dreamed of. Kale was really the perfect guy, and I was lucky enough to call him mine.
Word had spread around the office that we were dating, and everyone knew that Kale and I were together. Some respected our privacy, but others wanted to know every detail of our life, and of our sex life.