Billionaire Romance: The Storm SUCCEEDS: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire President Book 15)

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Matthew did not like that idea at all. He pulled his hand away from me and went right over to the television and turned it on. For whatever reason, Matthew wanted to spend the night on the tiny couch in the living room. I hated the idea that the secret service officers could watch our every move, but I figure that I needed to get use to the idea sooner or later. It might as well be that night.

  “I think down here will be better,” he said definitively.

  “Okay.”

  We settled in and Matthew let me pick the movie. It was nice to have him there with me and not thinking about business or anything else. At that moment, I really thought we could make this marriage work. We already had enough sexual chemistry to last for decades. If we could get the day to day life stuff figured out then we were going to have a really good chance at a future.

  Sometime after midnight, I drifted off to sleep with Matthew behind me and a big blanket covering both of us. But around two o’clock in the morning, we were both woken up by a commotion coming from the secret service offices in the basement.

  “They sure are worked up about something,” Matthew joked. “Maybe they found a mouse.”

  We both laughed, but then two officers appeared from the stairwell and were standing in the living room.

  “I don’t think it was a mouse,” I said seriously.

  “We need to go to the White House,” George said sternly as he stood near the front door.

  Matthew helped me up and then went over to George to talk to him. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but it certainly didn’t look good at all. Both men had concerned looks on their faces.

  “What’s going on Matthew?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure yet. Get your things, we need to go.”

  “Do I really need to go?”

  It was the middle of the night, I certainly didn’t see a reason that I would need to go to the White House with Matthew. Whatever the national emergency was I was pretty positive that Matthew and the President could handle it without my help.

  “You need to come Miss Kayla, it’s for your own safety,” George said firmly.

  George’s words had me more worried than anything I could have thought up. My safety wasn’t ever an issue, was it?

  “Sweetheart, we need to figure out what is going on. For now, will you please just gather your things and come with us?” Matthew said calmly as he kissed my cheek.

  I did as I was asked and gathered my purse and followed the men out to the SUV. Matthew let me in first and then slid in next to me. When I got into the vehicle, there was already a secret service officer sitting on the other side of the bench seat.

  All of the officers looked very bleak. They were concerned about something major and all I could think about was it was some sort of terrorist event. 9/11 had certainly scared our entire country, but I was in a whole new position with Matthew and I was probably in much more danger of terrorist events because of our marriage.

  We quickly made it through the White House gates and pulled into a garage off to the side of the building. The secret service officers got out first and then ushered us into the building quickly. I looked around for Elizabeth’s familiar face, the First Lady had been there to greet me the last time I was at the White House. I hoped that she would know what was going on and could tell me a little bit more about how I was supposed to handle these types of situations.

  But as I looked around I just saw a lot of secret service officers, security and staff members; no one looked familiar to me at all. One of the staff members brought me to a sitting room where I waited with a secret service officer outside the door. Matthew was ushered into a different room with some of the staff people.

  I waited for what seemed like forever as I drifted in and out of sleep. I had no idea what was going on or why we were at the White House. There continued to be a lot of commotion going on but I wasn’t privy to any of the actual information about what was happening.

  Then, about thirty minutes after I was brought into the room, Raphael the makeup artist came through the door. It was shocking to see him there at such a late hour.

  “Raphael, hi. What are you doing here?” I asked in total surprise.

  “We need to get you ready,” Raphael said as he moved quickly and started to apply makeup to me.

  “What? Wait a minute. Ready for what?”

  Raphael looked annoyed at me as he quickly applied makeup and then another woman came in and brought me a horrifically ugly blue skirt and jacket.

  “Put this on,” the woman said as she left.

  Raphael walked out with her and stood at the door. “Hurry, we don’t have much time,” he hollered in toward me as he held the door shut.

  I had no idea what was going on, but I felt obliged to put the outfit on as requested. I didn’t seem to be in any position to deny requests at the moment. So I quickly slid into the long skirt and put the white blouse on. I pulled the jacket on and then Raphael came back in. He did some touch ups on my makeup and then pointed me toward the hallway.

  “That way,” he said.

  “I’ll take you,” the secret service officer said at my door.

  As I walked down the hall, I realized we were going to the oval office. It must be some really big emergency if the President was making a speech at that hour.

  “So is it terrorists? Is the President making a public statement?” I asked the secret service officer.

  The officer put his hand on the door knob and opened it slowly.

  “The President was killed at Camp David tonight,” the officer said as he guided me into the oval office.

  I felt the blood rush out of my face as I looked at Matthew standing behind the mahogany desk. To his left was George Masson.

  “This way Michaela,” a young woman said as she guided me to stand next to Matthew on the other side of the desk.

  I watched as George Masson’s wife was brought in and stood next to him. There was one camera pointing at Matthew and at least a dozen people in the room. I felt myself getting dizzy as I tried to take in everything that was going on.

  “We are live in five, four, three, two and one,” the cameraman said as he pointed at Matthew.

  “Today is a day that we will forever mourn as a country. The details are still unfolding, but I am here with Senator George Masson to show that our country is ready to fight this fight. As your new President and Vice President, we will ensure that whoever has committed this atrocious act will pay. We will spare no expense to bring this evil to justice.”

  Matthew paused and looked over at me and then grabbed my hand gently. He held it tightly as he continued to talk. I saw a glimmer in his eyes. It was something I had seen only once before. I had seen it the day he took office as the Vice President.

  “This country is safe. As your President, I will ensure it is safe from all that is evil and wrong.”

  Click here to read how the story ends!

  More books from Sarah J. Brooks

  If you liked this book, you will for sure LOVE these other billionaire romance series! Check them out now!

  Why He Wants It – An Alpha Billionaire Romance Series

  Passionate Weeks - An Alpha Billionaire Romance Series

  The Kings Game – An Alpha Billionaire Romance Series

  Sarah wants her readers to have the best reading experience possible, so all books in her catalog are available for FREE through Kindle Unlimited (box sets not included).

  BREAKING NEWS: It means so much to me that you read my books – it’s hard to put this feeling into words. To show you my gratitude, I decided to give you the first book of my new billionaire romance series for FREE as a bonus. Happy reading with “The Billionaire’s Legacy – Part 1: Astonishing Encounter”!

  The Billionaire’s LEGACY

  Astonishing Encounter

  An Alpha Billionaire Romance

  Sarah J. Brooks

  Copyright © 2015 by Sarah J. Brooks

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resem
blance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Facebook: Sarah J. Brooks

  Cassie

  “Can you believe this beach, Cassie?” Emma asked me. We were stretched out on lounge chairs on the sweetest white sand beach I’d ever seen. The ocean before us, all of the usual noises of a luxurious resort were all set against the backdrop of constant, rushing waves. I looked around at the activities on the beach: in the water there were paddle boarders attacking the waves and even a few surfers who were trying to catch the swell. Out of the water, almost everyone on the beach was a mirror of Emma and me, laying on lounge chairs with cocktails all around.

  “I can’t believe we’re actually here,” I sighed, closing my eyes and laying back. We had just gotten in to Belize that morning, and we’d spent most of the day traveling to the small, private island that contained Legacy, an ultra-luxurious resort known for its properties around the world. Emma and I had saved our money for over a year to be able to afford it, and, finally, here we were. The timing couldn’t have been better. Not only was it absolutely frigid in New York City, but I’d also just finally landed a position with International Travel, Inc. with their journalism department. Their magazine, Destination, was the hottest travel magazine around right now. It was my job to travel to various hotels around the world and report not only on their tourism aspects, but also on other elements: were the hotels and resorts ecologically responsible, did they sustain the local economy or bleed it dry, that sort of thing. It was my dream job, and one I’d been working for since I’d graduated from college four years earlier. My first internship had been in their solicitations department when I was a senior in college. Now, at age twenty-five, I had finally landed the job I anticipated to be my career for the rest of my life.

  The sun beat down on my body and warmed me completely through. The smell of suntan lotion was thick in the air. I had just finished rubbing some SPF 8 into my skin, starting with my feet and ending with my stomach, exposed between the two halves of my black bikini, when a shadow blocked the sun on my legs.

  “Excuse me, ladies, can I get you a beverage?”

  I cracked one eye open and shielded my eyes from the sun. A Belizean man in white pants and a t-shirt with the resort’s logo over the right breast pocket stood at the feet of our lounge chairs.

  “What do you say, Emma, should we get this vacation started?”

  “I don’t see why we would wait any longer,” she said with a grin. We ordered two pina coladas and, while we waited, we went into the ocean for a bit. When our drinks arrived, Emma signed for them, and we clinked glasses.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to be doing this for your job,” Emma said. “And me, sitting in my cubicle like a complete chump.”

  “It’s not going to be like this,” I said. “For one, you won’t be with me. It’s going to be all work and no play most of the time.” Emma shot me a look that said she didn’t believe me for a second, and I protested. “Seriously! I’m going to be doing interviews, not laying at the beach.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a few moments to maybe pretend you’re on vacation,” she said dryly.

  I laughed. “Okay, okay, maybe I’ll find some time to squeeze in a few minutes at, you know, ever major beach in the world. And, maybe a few cocktails too. But I won’t enjoy a second of it, just for you, I promise. I’ll text you regular selfies of how miserable I am.”

  “You know, you should try to interview the owner of Legacy while we’re here. It would be pretty impressive to your boss if you used your own vacation to snag an interview with the owner of your resort.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “But, it’s doubtful that the owner is even here. Usually my schedule will be set around when they’re in town, which takes at least a few weeks to coordinate. Especially someone as prominent as the owner of Legacy; I don’t even know who the guy is. But, the Legacy chain is worldwide. He’s probably off in Egypt this week or something.”

  “True,” Emma said. “Guess this week we’ll just have to drink and lay out until we pass out from sheer happiness.”

  We got a good start on it that day, that was for sure. By the time the sun had shifted across the sky and late afternoon came around, we’d signed off on another three or four rounds of pina coladas and earned ourselves a decent pink hue that would either deepen to a sunburn or turn to a tan by the next morning.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. “We could go change for dinner. I’m going to want a shower.”

  “Definitely,” Emma said. We gathered our magazines, iPods, and the resort’s towels and returned to our suite. My journalistic eye was strong and I was noticing the details of this resort and how it stood out from almost every other place I’d vacationed. Emma had heard about this place from someone at her work, and, so far, it was extremely impressive.

  Everyone who stayed at the resort stayed in a suite; there were no small rooms. The resort was enormous and encompassed nearly the entire island, which was less than a mile across. Because it was an island and the resort so large, nearly every room had an ocean view. There were some so-called garden rooms, for people who thought the waves might awaken them, but the vast majority overlooked the ocean. Our room was on the ninth floor. It had three rooms: a sitting room and two bedrooms. The bathroom was off the sitting room, and the sitting room also contained a small kitchenette. While Emma showered, I sat outside on the balcony and watched people walk along the beach. There were some runners, some late afternoon sun bathers, and, of course, couples walking hand in hand waiting for the sun to set.

  After I showered, I put on a light sundress I’d bought for the trip. I towel dried my hair and noticed that the sun had already begun to bring some highlights to the copper. I’d been growing out my hair for ages, and it was now several inches past my shoulders. Though I usually wore it up for work, tonight I opted to let it flow over my shoulders. I clipped it up on one side, put on a small bit of make up to accentuate the blue of my eyes, and I called it good.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked Emma.

  “Definitely,” she said. She had worn a dress as well, and, as we walked down to dinner, I knew we looked absolutely amazing. I hadn’t seen many single guys running around the resort; it seemed to be more of a honeymoon destination place… but I could always hope. It had been ages since I’d had a date or been with a guy. My last relationship seemed like a hundred years ago, even though we had just broken up about a year ago. I was twenty-five and decent looking, curvy, I’d been told, in all the right places and none of the wrong ones, and I was ready to get back out into the field.

  “I wonder if there will be any cute guys at the bar,” Emma said, echoing my own thoughts.

  “I hope so,” I said. We walked into the restaurant, which was divided in half. A large bar took up nearly a quarter of the space, and bar stools and high top tables surrounded it. On the other half of the room, a more formal dining atmosphere, as formal as anything got in Belize, took up the rest of the space. The bar, because it was open to the beach and ocean, didn’t have the same luxury feel as the rooms; it was far more locally decorated. The furniture was made of bamboo and wood, and palm fronds decorated most of the walls.

  We sat at one of the tables, and, within a minute, a server wearing the same uniform as the one who had brought us our cocktails on the beach brought us menus. Everything on the menu looked good, so we ordered some traditional Belizean fare and, of course, a couple of cocktails.

  “Ladies, would you mind if we joined you?” I looked up and saw not one but two absolutely gorgeous men standing next to our table. “All of the other tables are taken, and we’re starving.” The blond man was speaking, and his friend, with black hair, stood next to him.

  “Sure!” Emma said brightly. She moved over and motioned for me to do the same. The blonde sat next
to me, while his friend sat next to Emma. Their names were Tom and Marty, and they were celebrating Tom’s graduation from med school. I thought Emma’s eyes were going to pop right out of her head when he said that, and I burst out laughing.

  “What?” Marty, the one with black hair, said to me.

  “Nothing,” I said, feeling Emma kick me lightly under the table, which only made me laugh more. I’d had enough cocktails during the day to think most anything was funny, but this was absolutely hilarious. “Emma and I are just really glad that all of the tables were full!” I grinned, flirting with Marty the best I could. It was obvious that Emma had claimed Dr. Tom.

  “Well, we’re going to buy you ladies some drinks in exchange for letting us sit with you and completely interrupt your evening,” Tom said.

  “That’s okay!” Emma said brightly.

  “Emma, let the men buy us some drinks,” I said, and we all laughed again.

  The entire night was like that: nonstop laughter. We sat at the table well into the night, talking and laughing, telling stories that weren’t even funny but sent us all into gales of laughter anyway. It was as though we’d known each other for ages. Finally, the temperature cooled down enough to drive Emma and I back toward our room.

  “Are you guys going to be around tomorrow?” Emma asked as we all made our way from the restaurant to the elevator.

  “We’re going to go on a scuba expedition that’s going to take most of the day,” Tom said. “We’re heading to the blue hole. But I think we’ll be back by dinner?”

  “I think so,” Marty said. “If you don’t mind, we may crash your table again.”

  “I don’t think we’d mind at all,” I said. “I’d love to hear about the dive. Emma, too, right?” I nudged her and she dissolved into giggles.

  “Goodnight!” Emma called, waving as the elevator arrived. “See you tomorrow!”