He’s also shirtless, a sleek line of muscle stretching down his torso. Perfection. Bare-chested and beautiful. I realize I must look like an idiot, salivating over a man while he’s busy working.
I still don’t understand why he would want to meet me here. Is he really so busy that he can’t step away from work?
Whatever. I try not to think about how attractive this man is as I walk forward and greet him.
“Mr. Craft?” I ask.
His head snaps up and a flicker of recognition widens his eyes.
“Yes?” There’s that deep, smoky voice.
“I’m Allison Graber. We’re supposed to meet about collaborating on some new suits.”
He fishes his phone out of his back pocket. “Is it noon already? Damn. I apologize.” He looks down at himself, no doubt realizing how unprofessional he looks. I don’t really care. The man is a treat for my eyes. Still I try to maintain my focus on his face. Not the rippling muscle on his torso or the bulge where his cock is. “The time slipped away from me.”
“No worries, Mr. Craft—” I try to raise my voice to be heard over the din of machinery.
“Please. Call me Roman.”
I smile. “Okay. You can call me Allison.” His answering smile is dazzling, straight white teeth and a delicious curve to his lips. “Should we speak here?” I ask, looking around once again at the construction site. I’m hoping he’ll take us elsewhere. Yelling like this is hard on my vocal cords.
He shakes his head and motions forward with a hand. Follow him. Right. I nod my head and he leads me through the site until we get to a mobile unit near a line of trees. We head inside and I take a deep breath of cool air. It feels good to get out of that sun.
“Sorry to make you come all the way out here. This job is on a tight deadline and we’re already behind schedule. Once it’s done I’ll be more free.” He motions for me to sit at a small built-in table. I take a seat while he fishes a plain white T-shirt from a drawer and puts it on. It seems a crime against humanity to hide that glorious torso, but I can’t exactly say so without sounding like a creep.
“I understand,” I say. My ears are adjusting to the silence after being out in that noise. My own voice sounds strange to my ears. “It’s unconventional, but I don’t mind.” Roman hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we entered this little room. He sits across from me, offering a smile that’s genuine and warm enough to melt my underwear clean off.
“So I need a designer,” he says. I admire a man that’s straight to the point. “Badly.”
I chuckle. “I noticed that yesterday.”
“Yes, we did meet yesterday, didn’t we?”
I nod and look away, remembering the way that slimy realtor had touched me. “I was looking for a property for my design business.”
“That seems an odd place for a design studio.”
I grimace. “It is. Blame my realtor. He didn’t listen to me at all when I told him what I’m looking for.”
“You should get a new realtor.”
“Believe me, I am. After yesterday…” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find a place.”
He smiles. “I’m sure you will.” Roman’s arms settle on the table and he leans forward. I try to keep my eyes on his face instead of salivating over his bulging biceps, but even his eyes are hard to look into. They are so dreamy. Jane, why would you do this to me? “So that man,” he continues, “was your realtor?”
“From yesterday? Yes. He was. Not anymore.”
“Ah.” Roman’s smile changes ever so slightly. If I wasn’t so good at reading people, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Now it’s as if he’s about to devour me whole. I shiver, delicious tendrils snaking to my erogenous zone. This man has an incredible effect on me. “Well, I’ve seen your work. I can recognize it immediately whenever Jane is wearing something you design. I have to say, I was expecting someone much older.”
“Why is that?” I’m flattered he’s able to recognize my work. I make all of my friend’s formal dresses. But old?
“I was just assuming based on the quality of the work. You seem to have an exceptional conception of the human form and how best to dress it.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I do appreciate that. But I’ll have you know right off that I don’t normally design for men.”
“Yes, Jane mentioned that.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Not in the least,” he says immediately. “I trust you implicitly.”
“Why?”
“I’ve seen your work, your impeccable taste. When I received your contact information this morning, I saw your online portfolio.” He leans forward and those sexy green eyes burn into mine, soaking my panties almost instantly. “I want you and no one else for this project.” He is close enough that his warmth traverses the space between us, but far enough that I have to fight my body’s urge to lean closer to him.
“I…” I fumble for words, disconcerted by the intensity of his gaze and the heat in his voice. “I will need to take measurements. With my equipment. At my home studio.” I speak in fragments, my brain refusing to form entire sentences.
“Very well,” he says.
I shift my position, lean back slightly, and my brain starts to clear. “Yes. My work is exact,” I say, meeting his eyes. “There’s no room for error. I’m sure you can understand that.” The man is an architect and, according to Jane, highly artistic. He really should get that.
“I do. I’ll stop by your studio then. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” So soon? I think back to my apartment this morning. Is it in good shape to receive this billionaire?
“If that’s okay.” His eyes never leave me. How am I supposed to refuse those gorgeous eyes?
“Um… yes. That’ll be fine. I’ll text you my address.” I’ll do a quick cleanup when I get home. He won’t be there long anyway. Just long enough for me to take his measurements.
“Then we’ll go to dinner.”
I feel my heart stutter in my chest. Or not.
4
Roman
When I see the woman from yesterday standing in front of me at the work site, I think I must be dreaming. It seems too good to be true. All day I had been throwing myself into my work to get her out of my head. I’d been so focused on trying not to think about her that I forgot about my meeting with the designer.
Who just so happens to be the same woman. I can’t help but feel fate’s hand in this meeting. What are the odds that the two are one and the same?
And of course she looks incredible. My eyes are once again drawn to the provocative curve of her rounded hips concealed by the figure-hugging skirt that leaves little to the imagination. Today there’s even a small glimpse of pale, creamy cleavage, her blouse tugging across her breasts, revealing just enough to leave me hard even now as I sit across from her. I can’t look away from her.
I’d been expecting to meet a much older woman, at least in her forties. Not Allison Graber, a young woman with a killer body and face that I’m fairly sure could get away with anything. To have such talent and precision while still being in her twenties...I’m more impressed than I can say.
Of course I ask her out to dinner. Well, I didn’t ask, per se. I told her we’re getting dinner tonight because I won’t take no for an answer.
The best news of all is that the man from yesterday isn’t her boyfriend after all. Good. I really didn’t like the look of him. I’d noticed his lecherous expression as his eyes followed her from the room.
Yes. Things have worked out quite nicely. I wish I had been more presentable for our first meeting, but it can’t be helped. I always change into jeans and a T-shirt when I’m on site. It usually gets so hot that the shirt is ditched shortly after I get started. And Allison didn’t seem to mind. Far from it actually. I saw her parted lips, the way her tongue had darted out to moisten her lower lip when she saw my torso. How her eyes had journeyed lower, following the line of muscle I worked so hard for.
Allison wants me, too. I can feel it.
Sparks of chemistry swell between us. A frenzied pull that I’m determined to explore to the fullest. I’ve never wanted a woman like I want her. So I’m not letting her get away.
The look on her face now tells me she wasn’t expecting me to ask her out. “I’ll drive us once we get done with the fitting,” I say, using her shocked silence to drive home the fact that I wouldn’t relent.
“Um…” she says tentatively. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s a date.”
“I’m flattered, Mr.—I mean, Roman. Truly I am. But I’m not…”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“Well, no. I’m not. I’m just… I haven’t dated in a while. I’ve been so focused on my career that I’m not sure I remember how.”
The unexpected shyness makes me want her even more. God, the way her eyes flicker downward, how she rubs her arm nervously. Is she afraid I’ll change my mind? That’s not gonna happen.
“Allison, I’m afraid I’m determined to take you out.” I reach across the table and place my hand on hers. “I know you feel it, too. Our chemistry. I’m a hopeless romantic and I’m not afraid to admit it. I get the feeling you are, too. This...” I gesture between us. “It’s meant to be and I won’t let anything stop us from exploring it. You’re an artist. You know we can’t deny the Muse.”
Just then there’s a harsh knock at the door, making Allison jump.
“Enter!” I yell. The door opens and the construction noise from outside pours in. One of my men sticks his head inside.
“Redford’s got some questions, boss,” he says.
I nod at him. “Be there is a sec,” I reply. He leaves, closing the door behind him. Damn. I was hoping to get a little more time with her. It will have to wait for tonight. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our meeting short. But I will see you tonight.” I rise and Allison does as well, smoothing down her skirt in the process. I have to discreetly adjust my cock in my jeans as she reaches for her purse, giving me a good view of her round ass.
“Well,” she says. “It’s been nice meeting you, Roman.”
“At last,” I say. “The pleasure’s mine.” My eyes flick down to her breasts. I let my gaze take her in one last time. I’ve already made my intentions clear so a last open look can’t hurt. She clears her throat and I laugh. “Sorry. You’re insanely attractive. Believe me when I say I’m not one to objectify women. You’re just...” I shake my head.
I see her gaze travel down my body briefly before she laughs, a sultry sound that I immediately want to hear again. “I think I understand.”
I smile. “Let me walk you to your car.”
I lead us out to her car, all the while sending warning glares to the men we pass. I see the way they eye her, not even trying to disguise their desire, and for some reason it grates on my nerves. Am I already so possessive even though I just met her? I shouldn’t be feeling this way. We’re not a couple.
Not yet anyway.
We reach her car. “Mind if I stay and watch you work for a couple of minutes?” she asks suddenly.
Taken aback, I blink. “Not at all. Please stay as long as you wish.”
“I’ll just be a few minutes.” She waves, and I find it hard to leave her side. The sight of her leaning casually against her car with a careless grace is mesmerizing. I want to just be near her.
With a final wave I manage to turn away. I have the distinct impression that she’s looking at my ass. It’s not an unpleasant thought. I actually feel like it adds a swagger to my step that I haven’t felt in years.
5
Allison
After spending a few hours in the studio after our meeting, I begin cleaning up even though there really isn’t much to clean. The place is as pristine as I can make it. I know artists are typically viewed as chaotic and messy, but that is not me. I have one god and her name is cleanliness. She smites every speck of dust with the audacity to land in her domain.
The idea of being dirty does not sit well with me. In fact, it makes me nervous.
Unless we’re talking about Roman Craft. The man makes me want to be exceptionally dirty. Just imagining his ripped chest and long, ropey legs… I shudder. Yes, I want to do very dirty things with him.
I still don’t think I’ve processed that the man from yesterday, the man I’d been instantly and intensely attracted to, turned out to be Roman. Somehow it seems like fate, though I can’t let the thought go too far. Roman is here to boost my career. That’s all.
I would be lying if I don’t admit that he’s also a boost to my spirits though. How can anyone look at him and feel anything but pleasure? My eyes trail over him again and again in my mind, always finding new details to fixate on. He’s like a walking sculpture—living, breathing human perfection. I can’t help but take time to do a series of drawings of his body alone, filling in the blanks for those parts I haven’t seen yet.
No. I did not draw his penis. That doesn’t mean I didn’t imagine it.
A new sketch book is now partially filled with quick sketches of him. Soon I’m going to start adding clothing to the figures, visualizing what a man as high fashion, elegant, and dashing as Roman Craft might wear. The thought of making the clothes is actually getting me excited. Which is surprising since I was so nervous to take on this job in the first place.
There’s no backing out now. My resolve hardens. I’m going to kick ass and create a wardrobe so exceptional, he will never be able to wear another designer’s clothing. After working on some other jobs, one of which is simply altering a wedding dress, I get myself ready.
I’ve never had dinner with a billionaire before so I don’t know what to expect. Would we be going somewhere formal where I should be wearing a dress? Or maybe more casual, where jeans and a blouse would be more appropriate? I chastise myself for not thinking of this sooner. It’s something I should have asked Roman immediately.
In the end, I decide to dress it up a bit. I usually do anyway. After a nice soak in the tub, I slide into a silky pale pink dress and pull my soft, brown hair over one shoulder. Some small drops at my ears complete the look. I reserve a good chunk of time for makeup as well because that’s an art in itself. I’m pleased with how I look by the time Roman arrives.
He is prompt this time, no doubt making up for forgetting our meeting this afternoon. Just as I look at my phone to see the hour turn seven, he’s outside ringing my apartment and I buzz him in.
I take a few deep breaths before opening the door to him.
“Hello,” I say, already expecting to be dazzled by him yet nonetheless surprised by just how dazzling the man is. Would I ever get used to him? Even with clothes that are slightly too tight, he’s dressed to the nines and looking drop dead gorgeous. He’s also tall, incredibly so. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but I can’t help but feel small in comparison to him, which says a lot considering I’m a bigger girl. His broad arms look like they could throw me around and then some. The thought sends a tingle of excitement down my spine.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his eyes traveling down my body. I’m surprised once again by how open Roman is about his attraction to me. It’s usually his brother Halcyon Craft in the news so I can’t say I know much about him other than his profession. And that he’s filthy rich.
Apparently Roman is a private man despite his money. Otherwise his face would be plastered everywhere. I had no idea what he looked like before today. Or technically yesterday I suppose.
A blush rises to my cheeks as his perusal reaches my eyes once again. They went from a quiet excitement to a look of pure desire. I can practically feel my panties melting off of me and wetness surging between my legs. I clear my throat. “Thank you,” I say. “Let’s get to it.”
I turn around and head to my studio, hoping he’ll follow me. I hear his footsteps follow just behind and I get the impression that he’s looking at my ass. I have to say I know it looks good in this dress though so I can’t bl
ame him. Despite my nervousness, I let my hips sway provocatively. With every step I feel bolder. “It’s just down this hall,” I say. I turn my head and gaze up at him. “It’s rather cramped, but I think you’ll fit. I’ve never had such a large client here before.”
He chuckles. “Am I really that big?”
“You’re a fit man, Roman. And tall. It’s not a bad thing.”
“I’m glad my size won’t be a problem for you,” he says. From his tone, I know there are layers of meaning to his words. God, he makes me blush like no one ever has.
We reach my studio and I open the door to lead him in. “I’m a big girl. I mean, not vertically.” I chuckle at myself. “You know what I mean. You’re tall and broad. I’m… voluptuous. Neither one of us should be ashamed or embarrassed of these things.” Why am I being so earnest about these things with him? For some reason, his presence just makes me want to spill my guts.
I look him in the eyes and see a strange emotion I can’t quite identify. But his smile is perhaps the happiest one I’ve seen from him yet. He’s grinning ear to ear. “I’m so happy to hear you say that. Confidence, knowing your own worth—that’s the most attractive thing a person can have. In my opinion.”
I laugh lightly and smile into his eyes. “I share that opinion.” Then I gesture around the room. “Welcome to my studio.”
Roman’s eyes immediately shift to our surroundings and I see him taking in everything at once. There’s a lot going on in here so I know it can be overwhelming.
I do love my studio though and I know I’ll miss it when I get a larger space. It’s a room fragrant with wax and oil, cluttered with paints and pigments both natural and artificial. A clothing rack nearby has an orderly arrangement of articles, mostly gowns, both finished and in progress. A table toward the back littered with brushes of varying sizes and a single, well-worn stool.
Fated for the Billionaire Page 2
