The Geek's Bad Boy Billionaire

by Talia Hunter

  “How’s it going in there?” Blake’s voice came from outside the changing room. He wanted to see how the dress looked, like he’d insisted on previewing all of her purchases.

  “Fine.” Caylee pulled the dress off quickly, not sure why she wasn’t ready to let him see her in it. When she opened the door wearing the skirt and top she’d bought in the previous store, he looked disappointed.

  “Didn’t it fit?”

  “Yes, but…” Her voice trailed away.

  “But?”

  When she didn’t answer, he took the dress from her hands and gave it to the sales assistant. “We’ll take it,” he said.

  “Blake, I’m not sure—”

  He cut off her protest with a grin. “Any dress with the power to leave you speechless is a dress I have to see you in. Will you wear it tonight?”

  “Are you always such a bully?” He flinched, an expression of pain ghosting across his face. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  “No, it’s okay.” He managed a small smile, although it seemed a little strained. “It’s true. For some reason, you seem to bring it out in me.” He glanced at her sideways, a questioning look coming into his eyes as though it was something he’d just realized about himself and he was wondering why she had that effect on him.

  Bully was one of the words she would have used to describe him when they were young. Only now she’d used it lightly, and it seemed a compliment rather than a criticism, because she was enjoying being bullied into trying some new styles. What about the other word she had for him: thief? That character trait was much harder to forgive.

  After they’d slept together, she’d spent the next day giddy with happiness, certain he cared for her. But he hadn’t even waited twenty-four hours to shatter that illusion, and let her know in the worst possible way how little he thought of her. The foolish crush she’d developed had obviously clouded her judgment. For years he’d been goading and teasing her, although until the night they’d spent together, he’d never seriously hurt her. But to make love to her with such tenderness and then betray her? To convince her he cared for her and then strike such a terrible blow? She’d been completely wrong about him. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that a monster hid inside that charming exterior.

  As the sales assistant rang up the dress and Blake handed over his credit card, Caylee studied him. There was no sign of the troubled kid who’d worn ripped clothes, pierced his ears, and smoked so much he’d always use the last drag of the stump to light up his next. Now he was tanned, with a healthy glow that spoke of fresh air and plenty of exercise. He looked much tidier than when she’d first seen him in the lobby of the resort. He’d shaved, revealing a square, firm jaw, and although his hair was tousled again, blown around by the boat trip, he wore a clean T-shirt and shorts that fit him well. A little too well. She’d noticed several women looking in his direction as they shopped, eyeing him with a hungry look that made Caylee want to ask them if they’d skipped breakfast.

  Maybe she’d been too quick to assess him as rough. He was certainly physical-looking, with a wide chest and biceps that were noticeable through his shirt, but he had a grace to his movements and a confidence that had probably come with having worked his way up from nothing, carving out a name for himself, not to mention a considerable fortune.

  Yes, maybe Caylee had underestimated him. But that didn’t mean she could let her guard down, not after what he’d done.

  She took the bag that held the dress without further comment, adding it to all the others that were starting to weigh her down.

  “Shoes next,” said Blake.

  “But my sandals will do.”

  He looked down at her sensible flats. “I’m afraid not. They won’t go with that evening dress for a start, and don’t you want to look professional at your conference?”

  “It won’t matter what shoes I’m wearing. Nobody will notice.”

  He put his hand firmly into the small of her back as he steered her toward a shoe store. “They will. And wearing nice shoes will make you feel more confident.”

  She let him pick out shoes for her to try on, a little embarrassed that he seemed more sure of himself in the store than she did. She’d never understood why women made a fuss over shoes or bought so many pairs. She usually just went for the ones that were most comfortable with the best arch support. When he dangled a totally impractical pair in front of her, she shook her head. “Do you know how much unnecessary pressure walking in high heels puts on the body? It can lead to back pain and—”

  “She’ll try on a pair of those, those, and those.” Blake cut her off by pointing styles out to the female store assistant who was hovering around him with annoying attentiveness. He guided Caylee to a chair with such assurance that she found herself sinking into it against her will. “You’ll walk taller in heels and give off a whole different vibe. Not to mention that they’ll make your legs look like they go on forever.” He ran his gaze over her bare legs and Caylee drew them underneath her, cursing the warmth that flooded through her disobedient limbs. How dare he? Had he always been this bossy?

  “These are lovely.” The store assistant knelt to help her slip on a pair of strappy sandals with elegant heels. “The gentleman has excellent taste.” She flicked back her long blond hair and simpered up at Blake.

  Caylee resisted the urge to kick the girl, and instead stood up in the sandals to test them. She did feel tall, and perhaps he’d been right because she also felt a little more commanding than she had in her flats. Although that could have been because of Blake’s low whistle of admiration and the sulky expression it put on the store assistant’s pretty face.

  “We’ll definitely take those,” he said. “Now try on the next pair.”

  “How many shoes do I need?” she protested. But somehow his enthusiasm swept her along, and she ended up with a ridiculous number of bags to add to her already impressive tally.

  Surely she now had more than enough clothing to suit any occasion, even if her luggage never arrived and her flight home was delayed by several weeks. But when they left the shoe store, Blake turned to her with a sparkle in his eyes and shot her a smile so wicked it sent a hot thrill coursing through her. Her legs weakened, and she fumbled with the bags before managing to get her rebellious body back under control. Thank goodness she’d put her sensible flats back on or that smile might have made her trip over her own feet.

  “Now for what I’m sure will be my favorite part of the day.” His voice dripped with satisfaction.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come this way.” He took her arm and steered her into…oh lord. Filmy bits of lace hung on racks, and a line of female mannequins wore only bras and panties. Lingerie? Now he’d really gone too far.

  “Blake Samson! There’s no way in the world that I’m going to let you buy me—”

  “You need underwear, don’t you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Or are you planning to wear a bikini underneath all your clothes, because I don’t think it’s going to be suitable for this evening.”

  “Fine.” Her cheeks were flaming and she took a deep breath, trying to cool them. For heaven’s sake, there was no reason to get flustered over underwear. But the way his lips twitched as he scanned the racks made it clear he was enjoying every minute of her embarrassment. The man was insufferable. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

  “This one’s nice.” He lifted a skimpy scrap of red cloth off the rack and held it toward her, looking from her to the panties and bra set and back again, as though picturing her in it. “The line of this bra would suit you.” He said it with far too much certainty, but then, she remembered with another rush of heat to her face, he’d seen her naked. No, he hadn’t actually seen her, it had been too dark for that. He’d felt her. He’d explored every inch of her with his hands and mouth and… She squeezed the handles of her shopping bags tight to stop her hands from trembling. Darn him, he was doing it on purpose.

  Sure e
nough, his grin was so wide that his cheeks dimpled. “Hmm, the color of your cheeks clashes with the red of this outfit. How about something in white?” He picked another lacy bra set off the rack. “This looks both sweet and naughty at the same time. How do you think they manage to do that?”

  “You wait here. I’ll choose my own, thank you.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He eyed a rack of panties. “Thong?” he mused, as though to himself. “No, you like more coverage. Yes, this one’s better.” He added another to his choices.

  “Don’t I get a say?” she snapped.

  “That’s unfair. I was just about to consult you.” He held up a skimpy silk slip with a plunging neckline. “Which color do you prefer? Dark green to match your eyes? Or cream to make your skin glow?”

  “I don’t need either.”

  He considered her for a moment, before nodding. “You’re right.” He put the slip back and picked up another with gorgeous embroidery detailing. “Classic black is the right one. See, we’re in perfect agreement.”

  “Blake, I’d rather select my own—”

  But he was already moving to another rack. He swept through the store, grabbing pieces that caught his eye, as she trailed behind, trying to spot the section with the sensible cotton underwear. Ah, there it was. Keeping her back to Blake, she selected some practical sets in a breathable, natural fabric. But when she got to the counter, he came up behind her and added the frivolous sets he’d chosen to her cotton ones. “We’ll take all of them,” he said to the sales assistant.

  Caylee tightened her mouth. By now she’d discovered the futility of arguing. Besides, the sets he’d chosen were rather beautiful. The one on top was cut from delicate white lace, and when she looked closely, she saw the pattern was made from tiny butterflies gliding across it. The man did have good taste, she’d give him that.

  As she waited for the sales assistant to ring up her purchases, Blake leaned down behind her so his mouth was at the level of her ear. His breath tickled her earlobe, sending a pulse through her body, a jolt of heat that flushed over her skin. He was too close. If she leaned back ever so slightly, her body would be cradled in his. He smelled of the sea—a very male scent of salt and sunscreen and a musky perspiration that clung to him and somehow made her feel a glow coming off him, as though sunshine had become trapped in his skin.

  “Will you wear it?” he murmured, his low voice sending a shiver down her spine.

  No need to ask which set he was talking about. She closed her eyes for a moment, seeing an image of herself standing in front of him wearing nothing but the wisp of white lace. The picture was so clear, it was as though she were already wearing it, as though the imagining had made it real. She could feel his body behind her, a hairbreadth away from hers. He was so big, he could pull her against him and she wouldn’t be able to resist. She would have to do whatever he wanted. He could make her touch his hard body, run her hands down his flat, muscled stomach until she reached his—

  “Thank you, and have a nice day.”

  Caylee’s eyes flicked open. The sales assistant was holding out the bag. Her arm went out automatically to take it, though it didn’t feel like her arm at all.

  “Thank you,” said Blake, stepping away from her. His voice was strangely hoarse, like he had something in his throat.

  She followed him out of the store into the brightness of the day, blinking as though she’d just woken from a dream. What was wrong with her? She was acting foolishly. But it was his fault. He kept getting close to her, talking to her with that voice. How dare he have a voice like that, anyway? It was positively indecent. And he kept pushing her into situations where she lost control, her body responding to him although her mind hadn’t agreed to let it. Well, no more. Starting now, she was going to pull herself together. No more foolishness. She’d simply keep her distance.

  Blake Samson, your games are over.

  “Are you ready to head back to the island?” His voice was still husky enough to send a shiver down her spine. She needed to get herself some earplugs.

  “Yes.” She made sure her tone was brisk, and then walked quickly back to the boat, staying in front of him to discourage conversation. But when she got there, she hesitated on the wharf, looking down. The tide had gone out, so the boat was even lower than before. She couldn’t get into it without his help, not without risking going overboard.

  “Is everything okay, Caylee?” Blake had caught up and was frowning at her, a puzzled look on his face.

  “I’m fine.”

  He stared at her a moment longer, then shrugged one shoulder. “Okay. Let me get in first.”

  Once he’d lowered himself into the boat, she passed all the shopping bags down to him, and he stowed them in a compartment. Then he lifted his muscled, tanned arms up, an invitation for her to drop down into them. His sunglasses were pushed up onto his head, almost lost in his sun-bleached tangle of wind-tossed hair. His soft blue eyes were on hers, pulling her in with a magnetic attraction.

  Caylee, you can do this. Focus on not being affected by his touch. Listen to your head, not your body.

  She took a breath and crouched down on the wharf, gripping the wood so she could ease herself over the side. His hands grasped her waist and he lowered her gently, her body sliding down along the length of his. He held her so close she could feel his heart beating fast, in time with hers. His big arms were around her, his strength making her feel safe. Oh! His hardness pressed into her stomach and she felt it then, his urgency, his need for her. It was an unspoken question that was answered with a tingling wetness between her legs, a sudden pulsing need of her own. His mouth came down on hers, his lips at first velvet soft, then pressing hard, his tongue insistent, questing for hers. She opened to him, letting her body push forward to meet his, caressing his tongue with her own. His hands moved against her back, one gliding up to cup the back of her head, the other pulling her to him even tighter, as though his body ached to devour hers.

  The boat rocked, and she stumbled a little. His mouth left hers, and for a moment her lips still reached for him, her body yearning for the connection they’d lost. Then her mind flicked back on. What was she doing? This was crazy! She put her hands against his chest and pushed herself free, biting her swollen lips, forcing her body not to shake. “Stop it. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” She turned away from him and gripped the boat’s windscreen with both hands, so hard her knuckles whitened. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Blake Samson, but whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

  “I haven’t done anything to you.” His voice was harsh. “And I could have sworn you did like it.”

  Her fingers tightened. “Take me back to the resort.”

  There was a long silence, then he said in a gentler tone, “Come on, Caylee. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Please, just take me back.”

  Without another word, he started the engine.

  Chapter Six

  Blake dropped Caylee off on the beach, his expression hard. She stared after him as he roared off in a surge of white water. Darn it. She shouldn’t have been so blunt. No, not just blunt, she’d been inexcusably rude, and she should apologize. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing she’d snapped at him and driven him away. How could she be drawn to such a cruel thief? Hadn’t she been hurt enough as a teenager?

  It would be far less confusing if Blake stayed clear of her and let her focus on saving her career. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. Her presentation was the only thing that was important, and Dr. Partington, the new head of the research foundation, was the only man she needed to impress.

  Partington had recently replaced the old chairman who’d mentored her and supported her work. She’d heard he was young and fancied himself some kind of hotshot, set on modernizing the foundation. There were rumors that he wanted to get rid of some old projects in order to start funding fashionable mathematics research, like the famous problems that you could attempt to solve for prize mone
y. Which meant mathematicians like her would be out of favor and, possibly, out of a job.

  Well, she’d just have to impress him, that was all. No, more than that. She’d have to ace her presentation and blow him completely out of the water. Her whole future depended on it.

  To start with, she’d check in at the conference and introduce herself.

  Caylee dropped her shopping bags back in the suite and made sure she looked respectable in the simple white top and blue skirt which were by far the most conservative of all the clothes Blake had bought her. She’d had to fight for the plain top, because he’d wanted a more fitted version in a bright, silky fabric. But this was the outfit most like her regular clothes, and she wasn’t ready for anything more daring. She slipped on a pair of new shoes with a small kitten heel that wouldn’t be nearly so bad for her feet as the higher-heeled versions he’d also made her buy.

  As she smoothed her skirt, her mind kept turning back to Blake. No matter what he’d done in the past, without Blake she’d have nothing but her soiled travel clothing to wear and nowhere to sleep. And she’d repaid him by making him feel like he’d forced himself on her, when the truth was, she’d been a willing participant in their kiss, at least until she’d come to her senses.

  She owed Blake both an apology and some kind of explanation, no matter how embarrassing it would be to admit the effect he had on her. Still, honesty was best. She would explain how vital it was that she focus on her presentation, and ask him to… Caylee sighed. To what? To not come close or try to talk to her while she was staying in his suite? That would be ridiculous. She was a strong, intelligent woman. Surely Blake wasn’t so irresistible that she couldn’t control herself? No, a simple apology would be enough. She’d admit she’d been rude and ask him to forgive her.