Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Alexis Winter

  “I don’t understand. I’m almost done with the staging designs for the new Adam Mitchell furniture store you gave me last week, but it’s just the initial designs. There’s still so much to do.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” she says with a casual flick of her wrist. “I already spoke with Chloe, and she was more than happy to take that project over for you. I also called the client, and they were happy to work with Chloe again. She helped them years ago when they opened their flagship store.”

  I nod as she speaks, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she just handed me the opportunity of a lifetime. I take a deep, calming breath. “I mean…this is a huge job, and if you think I’m up to the challenge, then I’m going to be up to the challenge.”

  I look from the folder to my boss, steeling my features and owning the fact that I am capable. In reality, I want to jump on top of the chair and scream with excitement. Most designers have to work a decade before they are handed an opportunity like this.

  “Fair enough. I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I didn’t think you were up to it.” Once again, Madeline’s stoic features give nothing away. “It’s going to require a lot of travel. Mr. Crawford has already said it will all be at his own expense. You’ll be using his private jet and staying at his hotels.” If she considered how intimidating this is for me, she certainly doesn’t give anything away.

  “So when do I start?” I close the folder and place it on my lap. There will be a lot of research to do, and I plan to start as soon as I walk out of this room and back to my office. There isn’t a chance in hell I am going to screw this up by going into it unprepared. Looks like my nights and weekends just got booked up for several weeks.

  “Right now, but your first meeting with the client isn’t until tomorrow at his headquarters on Michigan Avenue. You have an appointment at ten. The address is in the folder. Sophie has sent you an invite on your calendar, and she’s given you access to all of the folders on the network.” She nods towards the door, bending to pick up a pen from the desktop and jot something down on a piece of paper. “Now go get started. As of right now, this is your only account. Make it count, Alison.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it,” I say, standing up and leaving the room quickly, pulling out my cell phone out to immediately start searching for information on the company. I barely make it out of Madeline’s office and around the corner before I let out a squeak of excitement and run toward the elevator bank.

  I’ve heard of Castille Hotels before. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know who they are. Luxury hotels that are found on nearly every continent on the face of the planet are hard to miss. When you live in the city where the brand was founded, it is even harder to have never heard of them. I know less about the owner of the company, but a quick search will fix that.

  My breath catches in my throat as I click on Google images. Holy shit, it’s the guy from the airport bar! Mr. Crawford, Madeline’s voice rings in my head. I scurry back to my office and grab my purse, rummaging through it frantically until I find what I’m looking for. I pull out the business card he’d handed me and flip it over. There on the back in gold embossing is the emblem for Castille Hotels. I must have been too inebriated to have noticed it.

  Vincent Crawford is only thirty-six years old, but he is already a freaking billionaire. I take a moment to look at his face in the photos; the airport bar was dark and didn’t do him justice. He’s gorgeous, actual perfection. The kind of guy who would make you abandon everything you ever believed in for one kiss. His thick, dark hair flops carelessly over one eye in one photo, his sparkling teeth set perfectly against his plump lips.

  I scroll through his Wikipedia page. Apparently, he didn’t come from money. Everything he has is self-made. There’s pretty much zero detail on his actual childhood or family; most of it is details about his business and crazy personal life. I flip back to the Google images page and see a string of photos of Vincent with models and actresses draped across his arms, never the same one twice.

  I sit back heavily in my chair as I take in the photos of him. “I was definitely drunk to have no not realized his level of fuck-me-sideways-hotness.” I roll my eyes as I flip through the photos. “So cliché.” The other photos are of him skiing down mountains in Europe, skydiving, jumping off a bridge in Australia with nothing but a bungee rope tied to his ankles.

  “Failed Tinder date?” Chloe reappears in my office doorway with a smile on her face.

  “No, this new guy I’m going to be working for.” I flip the phone around, so she can see what I’m looking at. She steps into the room and grabs my phone, flipping through the images.

  “Daaaaamn, he is one tasty morsel!” She whistles as she admires a shirtless photo of him on a beach in the south of France.

  “A little too predictable don’t you think? Models ten years younger than him and million-dollar cars.” I wrinkle my nose in fake disgust. Is this really the same guy I met at the airport? He seemed so different…so normal, unlike all these pictures.

  “Someone sounds jealous…or intimated, maybe? Congrats on the job, by the way. I told you you’d be fine.”

  “So you knew? Thanks for taking on the Mitchell file, by the way.” I’m tempted to bring up the fact that I met the man at the airport, but then I worry how that will look. I meet this random guy at the airport, then he hires the firm, and I just happen to get the job?

  Chloe has been working at the firm for close to ten years; she just solidified her place as Madeline’s top designer and is now managing the interns. And she was my knight in shining armor that let me bunk with her for a few weeks until I found a new apartment.

  “Yeah, Madeline ran it by me. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get your feet wet. And no worries about the Mitchell file; that’s what I have interns for,” she says with a wink before heading back down the hall.

  I sit back in my chair, not letting the fact that Mr. Sex-on-a-stick-airport-fantasy is actually kind of a playboy and not exactly the kind of man I’d date. Maybe Chloe is right; I am judging this guy. Besides, he’s a job. I wasn’t hired to date him; I was hired to work for him.

  My idea of a wild Saturday night is getting Chinese takeout to eat while binge-watching old B-rated horror movies or catching up on work. While I don’t expect to spend any personal time with the client, I like to have an idea of the person and their interests; it helps me get a feel for their sense of style and design.

  This is how I once again wind up in my office with a strand of hair wound nervously around my finger. My first meeting with Vincent was less than impressive. I was a half-drunk bumbling mess. That is not the image I want to portray to my clients. My future at my firm and in the industry most definitely depends on my performance on this assignment. If it works out, this is going on my resume for the rest of my career. If it doesn’t, I am likely to be blacklisted from working for anyone in Chicago for the next decade.

  I catch my bottom lip in between my teeth and bite down hard before letting out a long sigh. There is a lot on the line with this job. I have to keep my head down, mind open, and make sure the client is happy. I don’t need to be best friends with the man; I don’t have to like him. I just have to decorate his hotels and make one hell of an impression. This could be the launching pad for me to not only solidify my name in the design world, but to make connections that later help me establish my own firm.

  Picking up a notebook and pen, I jot down a few quick notes from image searches of the list of locations I’m starting with. Eventually, the entire chain is going to be redecorated, but for now, they are starting on their oldest locations, needing to get them up to date.

  It has been ten years since he purchased and started his first location here in Chicago. It is past due for an update, and I already have a few ideas. I need to look through the location and get a feel for the way things work and flow in the hotel. The decor needs to be more than just beautiful. It needs to be comforta
ble and functional as well.

  A lot of people could make a room look amazing. Looks most certainly aren’t everything. Madeline understands that better than most. If a room isn’t usable, if in the end, it isn’t a space someone can feel comfortable working or living in, then it is a failure. Interior design is a balance between art and function, everything that I love, and in the end, it is the space itself that tells me what it needs.

  I finish jotting down some notes, glancing at the clock; it is lunchtime, and there isn’t much more I can do while my stomach is completely empty. I’ve not only done a thorough search of all the material that the internet can provide about both Vincent Crawford and his company, but I’ve filled my iPad with inspirational photos and colors that I can share with him during our meeting tomorrow. The rest is going to fall into place when I take a tour of the property and get a feel for the layout.

  I click back to the open Google images tab and scroll through more photos of him. I think back to the airport when he reached up and brushed a strand of hair back. I let my eyes close for a moment and wonder what would have happened if I had leaned into his hand. Maybe we would have shared a few passionate, secretive kisses before I dashed off to my flight. Suddenly my eyes shoot open, and I can feel my face blushing. Thank god things didn’t go that far; I can’t imagine walking into his office tomorrow with that being our last moment together. I need to stay focused!

  I grab my phone, tapping out a quick text to my little sister Janelle.

  Hey, J. Want to grab a bite to eat? I’ve got a lot to talk to you about.

  Janelle is a lot more than just my baby sister; she is the person that I trust most in the world. The two of us have been best friends since childhood. It is Janelle that keeps me sane and grounded most days. We are opposites—night and day, that’s for sure. Janelle’s light-hearted take on the world is the thing that balances out my serious moods and insane focus. She is the live-in-the-moment, don’t-take-the-world-too-seriously type. Something I struggle to embrace. If anyone can help me relax a little, it is going to be Janelle.

  My phone goes off almost immediately. It is a Monday. Janelle should be in class for the next half-hour, but of course, there is always the chance that she skipped it and will be free for the rest of the day, or that she is simply replying from the back of the lecture hall.

  Yeah, babe. Meet me at our restaurant in half an hour?

  My initial reaction is to tell her to either pay attention or get her ass to class, but one thing I’ve learned over the years with Janelle is she’s going to do whatever the hell she wants. I smile to myself and type out a response.

  Great. See you there. xo

  I grab my bag and make my way to the front desk, telling the receptionist I am going to lunch and if anyone comes looking for me to send me a text. In all likelihood, no one is going to be looking for me, but I feel guilty for skipping out on work for a long lunch break, no matter how much I might need it. I am going to be out of the office a lot in the next few weeks though. There is no telling when I’ll be back in once this project kicks off, and all my work can be done from home.

  I keep reminding myself that Vincent Crawford is my only job. I make my way to the closest train station to catch the L and head off to the bistro that Janelle and I love. This is going to be a long job and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I can’t wait to tell her about it.

  “Okay, I’ve got a garden egg white omelet with a side of fruit?” My sister raises her hand as the waiter smiles and places it in front of her.

  “And the cookies and cream pancakes with extra whipped cream and a side of bacon and hash browns?” I raise my hand even though I am the only other person at the table.

  The waiter gives me a bit of a shocked looked as he sets my plates down. Annoyed by his perceived judgment, I snap back, “I’m stressed, okay.”

  “I’m sorry about that. Thank you so much; it all looks delicious,” Janelle says to the young man as he scurries back to the kitchen.

  “Okay, Alison, time to put your big-girl panties on and stop scaring people. Technically, you dumped Brian; just saying. Plus it’s been a few months; why is this happening all the sudden? Eat your fifteen-thousand-calorie lunch and get your game face on because we are going to brainstorm how to get your life on track and how to get over that sack of shit.”

  “What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that asshole. I’m work stressed.”

  “Oh, sorry. Tell me what’s going on; you said you had a lot to talk about?” she says, quickly changing the subject.

  “Yeah, so…this is kind of a crazy story, but I met this guy at the airport in Dallas while my flight was delayed.” I launch into the entire story, trying not to elaborate on the fact that he looked like a walking wet dream.

  “Oh my god, Ali, that’s amazing! Congrats!” She lifts her glass of orange juice to cheers me. “Now let’s get back to that part where you said he’s handsome. Are we talking handsome as in older man that could be our dad’s age or handsome as in he’ll fuck you until you call him daddy?”

  I roll my eyes; I knew she’d pick up on that detail. “Honestly, Elle, he’s the kind of guy that only talks to me because he’s trapped in an airport bar and bored out of his mind…and one thousand percent the fuck-you-until-you-call-him-daddy type,” I say, pulling out my phone to show her the pictures.

  She gives me a little smirk. “So, wait. What are the odds that you meet this guy and then, bam, he hires your firm? Did you tell him you worked there?” She reaches for the phone before slamming her hand down on the table with a straight up screech. “LORD HAVE MERCYYYYY!”

  I nod, swallowing the large bite of pancakes I just snarfed down as I snatch the phone back from her and give a polite, apologetic smile to people around us. “We’re in public, Elle!” I scold as she looks around without a care.

  “But yes, I casually mentioned it. I didn’t think he was listening that closely, but I guess he was. Anyway, worked out in my favor that Madeline put me on the contract.”

  Elle’s eyes shrink to slits. “Riiiight, she just happened to put you on the contract. Twenty bucks he called asking specifically for you.”

  “Cheers to me! I am going to kick ass on this job!” We both raise our glasses, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s true.

  Chapter 4

  Vincent

  My office overlooks The Loop, directly across from the first hotel I bought ten years ago. It’s one of my favorite things to look at in this city. To me, it shows that no matter where you come from, if you put your mind to it, you can achieve unbelievable success.

  “Mr. Crawford, there’s a Miss Alison Ryder here to see you from Madeline Dwyer Designs,” my temporary assistant says. A huge smile spreads across my face. I am excited to see her again, curious if she’ll be shocked to see me or if she Googled me when she received the assignment from her boss.

  “Send her in, Gretchen.”

  I run my hands through my hair and settle back into reading the document laid out across my desk: a deal for buying a location in Toronto that needs updating and upgrading.

  Toronto is the perfect location for another of my hotels. It is close to the Canadian Tire Motorsports Park, and I’ve been looking for a new place to house some of my cars. Not to mention the number of businesses and events in Toronto. It is just screaming for me to add one of my luxury hotels, even if the competition in the area is steep.

  One of the older hotel owners was shopping for a buyer to liquidate some of his assets, and I had been the first person his agent had called. I always put out feelers in the area before I establish a new location. I’ve learned over the years that it’s easier to flip an older property than to build from the ground up, especially with luxury lines. I pay good money to be told when something like this comes available in certain cities. That’s why I hired Madeline’s firm. I have expanded at a rapid rate over the last several years, and it’s time to flip the properties I’ve acquired.

&nbs
p; I hear the office door open and close before looking up to see Alison enter the room. She looks different from what I remember, younger actually, and even more drop-dead gorgeous than I registered at the time. Her blonde hair is pulled into a tight knot at her neck, and it is safe to say that not a hair is out of place. Her clothes are immaculate, from the freshly starched white button-down to the red pencil skirt that matches the heels that grace her feet.

  I’ve seen more than my fair share of ‘hot.’ I’ve had it in my bed more times than I care to count. Alison has a different look, a determined look that says she has something prove. I can see it in the shrewdness in her gray-blue eyes and in the way she holds herself.

  I push myself up from my chair and walk around the desk, offering the young woman my hand.

  “Good morning, Miss…well, I’m afraid they didn’t tell me your name,” I joke. I raise an eyebrow but don’t even try to keep the corners of my mouth from curling up into a smirk. I am already amused by the look on her face as she takes my hand, and I can’t help but notice her eyes drop from my hand to my crotch. I grin; I would love to know exactly what is going through that pretty head of hers. She realizes I noticed and her eyes dart up to mine as her cheeks blaze bright red.

  “Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Crawford. I see you got a new admin?” She smiles with amusement as she shakes my hand before dropping it, moving to hold the tablet she’s brought with her against her chest. I still feel a charge of energy when she touches my hand; I’m curious if she feels it too. If so, she gives nothing away. She looks like an honor student on her first day of school. Already prepared to be the teacher’s pet and ace the class. I motion for her to take a seat in one of the chairs across from my desk.

  “Just a temp for now. Job is still open if you’re interested?”

  “I’ll consider it.” She gives me a pathetic grin before continuing, “I have to admit, I was a little shocked when my boss called me in and told me that you were looking for an interior designer. I understand you’re looking to update several of your hotel locations?” She opens the iPad and begins to flip through files.