The Billionaire’s Need
Crystal Kaswell
The Billionaire's Deal Series
The Billionaire's Deal - Kat and Blake
The Billionaire's Christmas - Kat and Blake's holiday novella
The Billionaire's Need - Lizzy and Nick
The Billionaire's Ex - Coming 2016
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Today
The elevator doors slide open. I take a deep breath, cultivating every ounce of badass I can muster. Either I nail this interview and get this internship, or I slink back to Stanford for dull classes and three thousand miles between me and everything I love.
Here goes nothing.
The woman sitting behind the reception desk is pure New York City cool. Slick straight black bob. Sleek red dress. Perfect makeup.
"You must be Elizabeth Wilder. I'm Jasmine Lee, the office manager." She shakes my hand with a strong grip.
"Lizzy."
Jasmine smiles. "We mostly go by last names here. It's a lot more formal than the bay."
She leads me through the modern office. It's sleeker than a typical San Francisco startup. Black sit-to-stand desks. Framed modern art on the walls. Huge windows letting in the soft white light of early January.
We stop in a corner office.
Jasmine motions for me to sit in the leather executive chair. "I'm going to leave you with this programming test. Then Mr. Marlowe is going to come in and ask you a few questions."
My stomach twists. Phoenix Marlowe is the company's CEO, a billionaire programming genius. How am I supposed to impress him?
"He's excited to meet you. He couldn't stop talking about your AI projects." She points to the monitor, now displaying a programming test. "If you finish early, you're welcome to play a game. Good luck."
She nods a goodbye on her way out the door.
The second it clicks shut, all my attention goes to the computer screen. I get lost in the hard but doable questions.
Until I hear his voice.
That same voice I heard that night in San Francisco.
"I hope I haven't surprised you," he says.
That's him. It can't be possible, but that's him. I spin in my chair so we're eye to eye.
What the hell is Nick doing here?
"No," I say. "It's fine."
He closes and locks the door. His gaze drifts to the résumé in his hands. It's like he doesn't recognize me. Maybe he has one-night stands all the time. Maybe it meant nothing to him.
My head fills with the feeling of his body sinking into mine, the taste of whiskey on his lips, the smell of his cologne. He's wearing the same cologne today.
His eyes flash with anger. He does recognize me. He must.
His voice is rough. "Who is Marie?"
I take a deep breath. "My middle name. And Nick?"
"Phoenix. My friends call me Nick."
"I didn't realize." I press my hand against the slick surface of the desk. "I'm sure this kind of thing has happened before."
His eyes narrow. "No."
"But you're very-"
"I don't go around fucking college students." He places my résumé on the desk and takes a seat behind it.
"I don't go around fucking tech CEOs. In fact, I try to avoid them."
"You're Blake Sterling's sister-in-law."
"Not yet."
Nick folds his arms. His eyes are steel. "Did he get you this interview?"
I plant my ass in the executive chair, cross my legs, and adjust my pencil skirt. "You should know how I got this interview. Or are you too busy picking up women in bars to keep tabs on your company?"
Frustration spreads across his face. "This project means everything to me."
"Your assistant, Ms. Lee—"
"She's not my assistant."
"Whatever she is, she told me how impressed you were by my board game bots. Isn't that what got me the interview?"
"Yes." He stares at me like he's expecting me to back down.
I don't.
"Your programming skills are not up to the standards of Odyssey Industries. Your code is sloppy and inefficient."
"You didn't even look at my programming test."
He taps the monitor.
"You can see the test on your computer, can't you?"
Nick nods. His eyes meet mine, and his expression shifts. It's softer. "You're stubborn and overconfident."
"I am not." Objecting doesn't help my case.
"However, you are the only candidate with any grasp of artificial intelligence." He leans closer. "I can snap my fingers and find a decent junior Programmer. I can't find anyone who knows AI unless I'm willing to poach from Google and pay ten times the internship per diem."
I play with my hands, trying my best to hold a poker face.
"You are the most qualified candidate." Nick stares back at me. "But there are other issues to consider."
"I fucked the boss, so I'm shit out of luck?"
His expression is impossible to read.
"Are you even going to deny it?" I will myself to stay logical. This is a good opportunity. Not worth wasting over a romantic connection, not when there are three million men in Manhattan.
It doesn't help.
I can't look at Nick for another second. How can this be the same man I met last September? That man was calm and collected, but there was a warmth in his eyes. His voice was stern and strong, but it was caring too.
This guy is a narcissistic asshole.
I push myself out of my seat. "I'll spare you the awkwardness of explaining it to HR." I sling my purse over my shoulder and march to the door.
"Lizzy, wait."
That's not happening. Not when there's a tear welling up in my eye. I need this opportunity so badly. It's the only thing that will keep me in New York City.
Head down, I rush to the elevator. Jasmine says a frantic goodbye, but I pretend as if I don’t hear her.
There are footsteps behind me. I can't bring myself to turn and find out if they belong to Nick. I duck into the staircase and race all the way to the first floor.
I disappear into the Wall Street subway station.
***
Blake's penthouse is only a few blocks from the station. His place is far too modern and sterile for my taste. Even with my sister, Kat, living here for the last six months, everything is grey and untouchable.
As long as they're together, and she's happy, I might as well make the most of it. Blake's place is mine until they return from their sunny, Caribbean vacation.
I turn on the virtual DVD library and scan the Sci-Fi options. All of the movies make me think about Nick's project. The Haley Bot (named for Hal, the evil robot in 2001: A Space Odyssey) is a virtual assistant far beyond any of its competitors. It's an amazing AI project. It's the best opportunity I'll ever have to learn about AI.
But I'm not sure it's possible for me to survive it.
The second my eyes close, I'm back in that hotel room, in San Francisco. I can feel his body sinking into mine, taste his lips, hear his straining breath.
This internship is the only way I can stay in New York without dropping out of school.
I can swallow my pride, apologize, and convince Nick to keep our relationship professional.
But I'm not so sure I can be around him without melting into a pile of desire.
CHAPTER TWO
Four Months Ago
It was my nineteenth birthday and I was miserable. I hated the bay area. I hated my classes. I especially hated the twenty-year-old programming douches who assumed I was clueless because I wore dresses to class.
I took the Caltran into San Francisco to find something to improve my mood. Only it was raining and my cocktail dress wasn't keeping me warm or dry.
There he was, all tall, dark, and handsome, standing on the sidewalk with a wide stance, his shoulders pulled back, his gaze on his cell phone.
Without a word, he slid his suit jacket off his shoulders and offered it to me.
I shook my head. "I can't take your jacket."
"Why not?"
I rubbed my fingers over the fabric. It was a finely woven wool. Expensive. "I don't know you."
"I'm Nick."
We shook hands.
He was clearly rich and important. There was no way I'd ever see him again. Better to give him my middle name.
"Marie." I slung the jacket over my shoulders. It was thick enough to keep me warm.
"I'm going inside for a drink." He pulled the door open as if to invite me.
I nodded a thank you and followed him to a booth in the corner of the lounge. The walls were cream, the lights were soft, the furniture was purple. It was not the kind of place I'd expect to see a guy like Nick.
His deep brown eyes fixed on mine. "What brought you into the city today?"
"How do you know I'm not a local?"
"People in San Francisco rarely wear—"
"Tight dresses and heels?"
"Not on this side of town."
"I got that impression." My gaze drifted to the dark carpet. "It's my birthday."
His voice was honest. "You wanted to spend it alone?"
"Better than spending with other people and feeling alone." I bit my tongue to prevent any more over-sharing.
The way he looked at me was understanding. Sweet even.
"I don't understand the appeal of the bay area. The weather is terrible and everyone you meet is a snob or, worse, some programmer who thinks he's better than you because he knows C++. Is there anything good about this city?"
"The rents are making landlords rich."
I laughed. "You would know."
He nodded.
"You don't like it either?"
"You get used to the self-importance."
The cocktail waitress stopped by our table to take our drink order. She accepted my fake ID without batting an eye.
"Let me guess." I slid his jacket off my shoulders and set it in my lap. "You're a venture capitalist and you have to fly here twice a week to hear desperate pitches from egotistical start up founders."
Nick's eyes were fixed on me. His gaze was already so intense and captivating. I was losing interest in our conversation. What did I need to know about him besides how much I wanted him to take me to his room?
I never reacted to men like that. I'd only been with two—a boyfriend before the accident made everything complicated and a classmate I dated for a few months the previous summer. Neither was worth remembering.
My heartbeat picked up. I shifted back in my seat. "Was I close?"
"Yes. And you're a student as UCSF. A science major. Chemistry."
"Something like that."
The waitress returned with our drinks. Whiskey for him. Rum and diet for me. Nick slid two twenty-dollar bills into her hand. She smiled the way I always smiled after a huge commission.
I took a long sip. It was a perfect mix of sweet and bitter. "What brought you into the city?"
He copied my words. "How do you know I'm not a local?"
"You're staying in a hotel."
"I could be going through a divorce."
I shook my head. I took his left hand and pointed to the base of his ring finger. "You don't have a tan line."
His brows rose like he was intrigued. "That's a neat trick."
"It doesn't absolve you of being thrown out by your girlfriend." I met his gaze. "But I can't imagine that."
"Why not?"
"I can't see you letting a woman have that much control of your life. Living with you even."
"That's quite the accusation."
"I guess so. You learn to read people pretty well when you work retail." I pressed my lips together. "Am I wrong? Have you ever lived with a woman?"
"Not one besides my mother."
"Do you have girlfriends or just—" I motioned to our seat in the lounge. "—do things like this?"
"Do you have boyfriends?"
"Not since high school."
"Me either."
"You had a boyfriend in high school?"
He looked back at me curiously, like he wasn't sure if I was joking or not.
"Just kidding." I smiled. "Where are you from?"
"Los Angeles. Just as self-important." His gaze went to the jacket in my lap. "But the weather is more tolerable."
That sealed it. He was from Los Angeles. There was no way I'd see him again. There was no reason to hold back anything.
I was so lonely that first semester of college. It wasn't abnormal for my temper and strong will to get me into trouble, but it was so much harder with my sister, my best friend in the world, so far away.
Nick was listening to me. He was honest. It was my chance to let my guard down for a night, to have a conversation that wasn't bullshit.
I promised myself I'd take advantage of the opportunity. "I'm from New York. I can deal with weather."
"You go out like that during New York winters?"
"You sound like my sister."
"Not your mom?"
"My parents died when I was fifteen."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you." I nodded. "Why are you in the city today?"
"I had to deal with a problem."
"Is it dealt with?"
His eyes flared with something I couldn't place. He nodded and finished his drink. "Hopefully."
"Was it business or personal?"
He looked back to me. "Both, unfortunately."
"You don't seem like the kind of guy who mixes the two."
"I don't. Not usually."
"What happened this time? Seduce your secretary, then kick her to the curb?"
"No one is called a secretary anymore. It's administrative assistant."
"Would you?"
"That's an open and shut sexual harassment case. I don't need the headache."
"Afraid of litigation?"
"Have you ever dealt with lawyers?"
I shook my head.
"I hope, for your sake, that you never have to."
"What if you were sure she wouldn't sue?"
"It's not a risk worth taking."
"You're chicken?"
"No. When you're older,
you'll realize that there's a difference between bravery and foolishness."
I bit my tongue. I didn't need to be polite with him. I could call him on his bullshit. "So you think you're smarter than everyone younger than you are? There's a difference between cowardice and caution. I could say that and make you sound like the one who is wrong."
"You called me a chicken."
"So I started it? Very mature, Nick. I thought you were old and wise." I reached out and ran my hand through his hair. "Is this all dyed? Are you naturally gray?"
"No."
"Can you prove it?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Yes." He looked down as if to motion to his crotch.
Oh. That would prove it. I blushed, unable to do anything but imagine him naked. That sounded like an invitation. I needed to take it. It's not as if I'd have another chance to sleep with a powerful, sophisticated man.
"Then you should," I said.
"Are you a chemistry student?"
"No. But I am in STEM."
"You're naturally skeptical."
I nodded. "I have a hypothesis, and I need to test it. To find proof." Finishing my drink pushed my boldness. "It's very trendy to tell women to study STEM. No one approaches it like this though."
"You'd rather colleges tell women they can use STEM to get laid?"
"They can. My classes are eighty percent male. And most of the guys think I'm an idiot because I wear lipstick and shoes with heels."
"Most college students wear sneakers."
"They're wedges. I'm short. And they're completely appropriate for class. And cute."
"I'm sure they are."
"I'll show you a picture."
"I believe you."
I reached for my phone to prove my point, but that was a bad idea. A picture would show Stanford in the background or give him my Instagram handle. If I knew he could find me, I would be inhibited, worried about what he'd think of me.
It had to be one time. One night.
"Never mind. I just got a new memory card. No pictures." I shoved my phone into my purse. "Will you prove it?"
"You want to fuck me."
Well, shit. He was blunt.
I nodded a yes.
He smiled like he was charmed. "You don't play coy."
"Should I?"
"No." He looked into my eyes. "Do you want to have another drink in the lobby or in my room?"
"Your room."
He stood and took my hand.
***
His hotel room was a corner suite. It had a plush king bed, a wall-mounted TV, and a side room with a couch and a desk. That paled in comparison to the view outside the long windows.
The Billionaire's Need: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire's Deal Series Book 3) Page 1
