Boss With Benefits (Billion-Dollar Bet, #2)

CHAPTER ONE

‘D O I KNOW YOU ? Because you look a lot like my next girlfriend.’

Sitting at the bar of Manhattan’s newest and buzziest cocktail lounge, Ella Green winced. The chat-up line delivered by the guy on her left was as repellent as the malodorous combination of alcohol, sweat and cologne that was emanating from him and catching her at the back of her throat. It was the twenty-first century. Could a woman still not drown her sorrows in public on her own on a Friday night in June in peace?

‘You don’t know me, I’m afraid,’ she said politely, as she ramped up the back off vibes and edged away.

‘But I’d like to,’ said the guy, leaning a little more heavily on the bar, his smile presumably aiming for seductive but resulting in somewhere between dribbling and lecherous. ‘I’m Pete. Do you have a name or should I just call you “mine”?’

Ugh. ‘Never do that.’

‘You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put “U” and “I” together.’

Ella sighed. ‘It’s “you” and “me.”’

‘What?’

‘If you’re going to try and pick me up with terrible lines, at least be grammatically correct about it.’

Utter befuddlement met that remark. ‘“U” and “me” doesn’t work,’ said Pete with a frown.

‘Well, there you go then. Take the hint.’

He didn’t. Instead, he doubled down. ‘Would you at least stroke my arm so I can tell my friends I’ve been touched by an angel?’

‘No.’

‘Then how about I stroke yours?’

He reached out and put his hand on her bare upper arm, and in the blink of an eye she’d spun round, her knee had connected with his groin and the contents of her glass had landed on his shirt.

Pete gave a yowl and clutched his genitals, his face contorted in pain, but Ella refused to feel guilty. She had given him every opportunity to go away and leave her alone. It was his own fault he hadn’t taken it.

‘Sorry,’ she said, not sorry at all. ‘Dodgy stool.’

Gasping and spluttering, Pete plucked at the vodka-soaked cotton, puce with humiliation and evidently furious. ‘Frigid bitch.’

‘Inebriated jerk.’

With a filthy glare, he limped off and Ella swung back to the bar. She wasn’t frigid. Or a bitch. She just valued her personal space and didn’t appreciate being groped against her will. Like most people, she imagined. Although most people probably hadn’t grown up in a dangerous, deprived backwater of a neighbourhood where it was sensible to learn self-defence at an early age.

‘Nice moves.’

This dry remark came from the guy on her right, who was a different kettle of fish entirely.

She’d been bitterly contemplating her drink when he’d sat down beside her ten minutes earlier. An odd sort of charge had electrified the displaced air. An exquisitely woodsy scent had wafted towards her. Her skin prickling in the most peculiar way, she’d instinctively glanced over and out of habit had catalogued what she’d been able to see from the side.

A man of around her age, maybe a few years older. Thick dark hair. Straight nose. Square jaw with the hint of a five-o’clock shadow. Pale blue Oxford shirt, sleeves rolled up. Tanned, muscled forearms. An expensive-looking gold-faced and tan-leather-strapped watch on his left wrist. Big hands, long fingers, short, neat nails.

Very attractive in profile, she’d concluded as a hot shiver had rippled down her spine. Possibly even more so from the front.

She’d reluctantly averted her gaze before he could catch her ogling. He’d summoned the bartender and given the order for a large Scotch, his cut glass accent indicating that he came from the other side of the Atlantic. Parking her curiosity and leaving him to whatever had him also studying his drink, Ella had resumed her acidic ruminations on the gross unfairness of life that meant her unspeakable ex was up for an industry award while she was still trying to repair her career after their short yet illicit workplace affair blew up a year ago. But she’d nevertheless remained acutely aware of her neighbour’s size, stillness and his intriguing sense of contained power—until her attention had been claimed in the other direction.

Now, however, with that deep deliciously sexy voice aimed straight at her, the timbre of it vibrating through her body and igniting her nerve endings, she turned. Her gaze met his, and for one breathtaking moment the world slammed to a halt. The dimly lit bar with its glittering opulence and sultry vibe vanished. The bottom fell out of her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat and then began to race.

She’d been right, she thought dazedly, her head spinning and her temperature rocketing. He was even more attractive from the front. His eyes were like the ocean. As blue and as deep as the Pacific. And suddenly she felt a stab of empathy for Pete, because as cringeworthy as the thought was, she wanted to dive right into them.

After what felt like an hour but could only have been a second, Ella blinked, snapping the sizzling connection. Her surroundings swam into focus and the world cranked back into gear.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, still a little breathless from the impact he was having on her. ‘It was an accident.’

His mesmerising eyes glinted with wry amusement. ‘Of course it was.’

‘The perils of an uneven floor.’

‘A dodgy stool, I thought you said.’

‘It’s a dangerous combination.’

‘And there was me deliberating over whether to intervene.’

‘How would you have done that?’ she asked, immediately envisaging him stripping off his shirt and squaring up to her former admirer, all rippling muscles and simmering outrage on her behalf. Which was bizarre when, firstly, she was a financial auditor with a keen eye for numerical detail but next to no imagination and, secondly, she had never ever needed rescuing.

‘I hadn’t thought that far.’

That was a shame. ‘Lucky, then, that I can take care of myself.’

‘Not so lucky for Pete.’

‘I gave him fair warning.’

‘More than enough,’ he agreed. ‘His lines were appalling. He needs to learn to take no for an answer.’ He ran his gaze over her face, her hair, her body, scorching her like a laser where it lingered. Then he added, with the glimmer of a devastating smile, ‘But I can’t blame him for trying.’

In response to his appreciative scrutiny— so much more welcome than the leery Pete’s—Ella flushed from head to toe and fizzed with pleasure. ‘Thank you. I think.’

‘I’m Adam.’

Swinging round, he held out his hand and she automatically took it. ‘Ella,’ she said, just about able to recall her name even though tiny shocks were shooting up her arm into her head and short-circuiting her brain.

‘May I replenish your drink?’

He could do anything he wanted with that voice and those eyes. If he reached out and peeled off her dress, right here, right now, she’d be helpless to stop him. In fact, she’d probably tell him to hurry up. And that was concerning for a single-minded control freak who made decisions with her head, not her heart. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so instantly and comprehensively attracted to a man. Ever.

‘That’s very straightforward of you,’ she said, boldly checking out the perfection of his masculine features and the impressive breadth of his shoulders while the heat whipping around inside her coalesced into a puddle of lust that settled low in her abdomen. ‘Don’t you want to tell me that even though you’re not a photographer you can picture us together?’

‘No,’ he said, his voice dropping an octave. ‘Although I can.’

‘How?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘I do.’

He leaned in and murmured, ‘It involves a large bed and no clothes.’

God . He didn’t beat about the bush. If she’d had any doubt about the mutuality of the attraction, it had just been pulverised. Her mouth dried. Her entire body throbbed. This man could invade her personal space any day of the week, she thought as she exhaled slowly and swallowed hard. ‘Tell me more.’

‘I’m still working on the details,’ he said, drawing back just enough for her to be able to see that his pupils were so dilated little of the blue remained. ‘But if you’re after a line, I’m more than happy to admit that I was feeling a little off today until you just turned me on. Perverse, I know, but there it is. You’re beautiful and fierce. It’s another dangerous combination.’

If anything was dangerous, it was him. She’d always enjoyed this dance, the flirty back and forth and the heavy looks—until the lousy experience with her ex had meant that she’d had to focus on rebuilding her career to the exclusion of all else. But what was going on here was on a whole other level.

This man, who was gazing at her with such heat that she felt as though she could catch fire any moment now, was unleashing that reined-in power she’d sensed earlier. He wasn’t bothering with a slow-burning build-up. He was pouring petrol on the bonfire and setting it alight. Deliberately or not, he was killing her brain cells, one by one, and unravelling the control she’d always considered rock solid.

They’d only been talking for five minutes, but already she could visualise them writhing around together in that bed. Her breasts were tingling. White-hot desire was pouring through her with such strength that her inhibitions were fast becoming history. She wanted to leap onto his lap and seal her mouth to his while yanking his shirt aside and putting her hands on his bare chest.

It was insane. Incomprehensible. And to someone who’d had to forswear fun for the last twelve months to concentrate on her career and had sorely missed intimacy of the steamy, sweaty kind, it was absolutely thrilling.

‘What were you drinking?’

That was an excellent question. Liquid dopamine? Dynamite? ‘Martini.’

‘How do you like it?’

‘The dirtier the better.’

A faint smile curved his gorgeous mouth and detonated tiny bombs of excitement inside her. ‘A woman after my own heart.’

‘I’m not after anyone’s heart,’ she countered with an imperceptible shudder. Never had been, never would be. Even the thought of giving up her hard-won independence brought her out in a cold sweat. Compromise? Sacrifice? No, thank you very much. She’d had to climb countless ladders to get out of the impoverished, fetid and perilous trailer park in which she’d grown up and make something of herself. Conquering the world of auditing was her number one priority and she needed no distractions.

But the pure unadulterated lust currently ravaging her system? That she could indulge.

‘Neither am I,’ he said with equal intensity.

‘Single?’

‘Always.’

‘You could not be more perfect,’ she breathed on a sigh.

‘Nor could you.’

For one long hot moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them humming with energy, her drink forgotten. His hand found her bare knee, and her skin first shivered then sizzled when it inched up her thigh. She leaned in as if magnetised and touched her fingers to those of his other hand, which rested on the bar. The buzzing electricity that flowed through the circuit they formed was so powerful she wouldn’t be surprised if the effects could be felt in Brooklyn.

His gaze dropped to her mouth and her heart thundered. The desire radiating off him was almost palpable. She’d never experienced such instant and blistering chemistry or felt so... carnal .

The sensible, rational voice in her head—to which she usually paid avid attention—insisted that this was no simple flirtation, that she was way out of her depth, that she really should not do what it suspected she was going to do. She must not lose focus, it demanded. Rebuilding her career had been her primary goal for the last twelve months and she had to stick to that.

But it didn’t stand a chance.

Nothing mattered except satisfying the primal urge to act on the need rampaging through her. Like a train thundering along the tracks, she was heading in one direction only, her destination flashing at her like a beacon from the moment their gazes had collided. It wasn’t as if she’d be there for long, she assured herself. She’d be back to reality soon enough.

‘Would you like to take this conversation somewhere a bit more private?’ she said, so desperate to assuage the throbbing ache between her legs that she was incapable of thinking about anything else.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even blink. ‘Yes,’ he said, sounding as though he’d swallowed gravel. ‘I very much would.’

What the hell he thought was doing as he closed the bathroom door behind him and flipped the lock, Adam Courtney had no idea. He didn’t pick women up in bars, no matter how powerfully sexy and beautiful they were. He’d given up that sort of selfish, reckless behaviour fourteen years ago at the age of eighteen, when his mother had died because he’d been too busy screwing around to save her, and Charley, his then eight-year-old sister, had been left rudderless.

At no point since had he relapsed. These days, his ultra-brief relationships were infrequent and discreet. He would not turn into his callous, philandering father, he’d reminded himself over the years on the rare occasion his control threatened to slip. His reputation for steadiness and integrity was inextricably linked to that of the Courtney Collection, the luxury goods empire that had been in his family for over a century and which he now headed up, and he would do nothing to jeopardise it.

Yet he hadn’t hesitated for even a moment when Ella had suggested he give her a couple of minutes and then join her in here. His reputation hadn’t crossed his mind. For the first time in years, he wasn’t thinking with his brain. From the moment he’d looked into her gorgeous brown eyes, he’d been driven entirely by the clamouring needs of his body, and he was far too battered by recent events to resist the power of the desire that had surged through him.

He’d noticed her the minute he’d reached the bar at which he’d intended to rid himself of the tension that had been dogging him for weeks by consuming large quantities of single malt. It had been impossible not to. Her hair flowed down her back in long golden waves that gleamed in the low lighting and looked as though they would feel like silk. Her sleeveless dress, the colour of buttermilk, clung to generous curves and revealed toned tanned arms. A brief glance to his left as he’d taken possession of the stool to her right had told him that her profile was exquisite, her complexion flawless. And judging by the looks she’d attracted, he wasn’t the only one to think so.

But although his interest had been piqued, he hadn’t planned on speaking to her. She’d appeared preoccupied and he’d had plenty else to dwell on. Such as Helberg Holdings, the global conglomerate that had been in his sights for over a decade, which was in serious financial trouble and therefore ripe for a takeover.

The minute he’d heard seven months ago that the cantankerous owner had died, he’d started buying up the dirt-cheap shares, and victory, he’d thought with grim satisfaction as his stake steadily grew, would soon be his. Once in his possession, he’d sell off everything except Montague’s, the jewellery business that had been beloved of his mother and used to belong to the Courtney Collection until his father had sold it to Reed Helberg for a dollar out of spite. That, he’d welcome back into the fold and restore to its former glory, and then, perhaps, the crushing guilt that had weighed on him so heavily and for so long might lift a little.

Lately, however, the availability of the stock had plummeted, and the share price was rocketing to a level that was beginning to challenge even his exceedingly deep pockets. He faced the very real possibility that the company could slip through his fingers, and that simply could not happen. Whatever the threat—rivals, internal machinations, anything —he needed to neutralise it.

Adam had been contemplating hiring a private investigator to dig into what was going on when the idiotic Pete had made his move and then the coolly magnificent Ella had made hers. He hadn’t been able to resist checking she was all right under the guise of expressing his admiration at her handling of the situation, but never in a million years could he have anticipated feeling as though he’d been struck by lightning when their eyes had met.

Yet that was precisely what had happened.

In the space of a millisecond, his pulse rate had shot through the roof and his head had emptied of everything but the need to get her naked. Every drop of his blood had rushed to his groin and the erection he’d sprung had been so hard it had ached.

They’d talked—about what he could hardly recall—and all he’d been able to focus on was her mouth. He’d wanted it on his, on his skin, taking him in as deeply as she could. She’d stared at him hungrily, obliterating years of ironclad control and stripping away millennia of civility, and if she hadn’t suggested this, he had no doubt that he would have.

Now she was standing at the black marble-and-gilt vanity unit with her back to him, feet apart, her hands gripping the edges. Her warm brown eyes connected with his in the Art Deco mirror, glittering with excitement and invitation. Any lingering doubt he might have had about the wisdom of what he was about to do was swept away by a thundering tsunami of desire.

‘We have to be quick,’ she said raggedly, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving.

‘That’s not going to be problem.’ Thanks to his recent fixation with Helberg Holdings, he hadn’t had sex in months and was wound so tightly he was about to explode.

Stepping forwards and pressing up against her, he swept her hair to one side and set his mouth to her neck. Her skin tasted faintly salty. The coconut scent of her shampoo wafted into his head. He briefly thought of the many holidays that gruelling sixteen-hour days hadn’t allowed him to take, but then she shivered and moaned, grinding her bottom into his groin, and he stopped thinking about anything at all.

Compelled by the primitive need to be inside her slick welcoming heat, Adam unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. He pushed down the clothing that was in the way and, gritting his teeth, rolled on the condom he’d fished out of his wallet. He wanted to touch her everywhere, slowly and thoroughly, savouring the experience, but that wasn’t an option under the circumstances. So he put his hands on her bare upper arms and then ran them down her body, over her soft curves, until he reached the hem of her dress. They shook as he lifted it and stilled completely when he found her naked where he’d expected underwear.

‘I thought I’d save some time,’ she murmured in response to the hiss of his breath through his teeth.

‘I’m impressed,’ he said, his blood pumping through his veins even faster as he slid one hand round between her legs, feeling the dampness there, and pressed his fingers to her core. ‘I’m way beyond thought.’

Ella groaned and bent forwards, shifting her feet wider apart to allow him better access. ‘Hurry,’ she breathed unnecessarily, because he was already there, the blunt head of him pushing at her entrance. She gave her bottom a quick wiggle of encouragement—not that he needed it—and with one smooth hard thrust he lodged thickly inside her.

His heart lurched and then began to pound. She swore softly, closed her eyes and threw her head back, her golden hair shimmering in the low light. Bewitched by the sight of it as much as the ferocious desire thundering through him, he was barely aware of his hand gliding up her back and into the glorious tresses as he began to move in and out of her with long steady strokes.

‘Yes,’ she breathed on a ragged pant, granting him the permission he hadn’t even known he was seeking to close his fist around the silky strands close to her scalp and tug on them lightly.

Gasping, instinctively arching her back, she took him in further, the penetration at this angle so deep he saw stars. She opened her eyes and their gazes once again connected in the mirror, with an unexpected intimacy that tightened his chest. But he didn’t have the wherewithal to wonder why that should be. His control was fast disintegrating. The exquisite tension inside him was intensifying, the muscles in his stomach, his back and his chest contracting. His fingers were tightening around her hair and his thrusts were quickening.

Her breathing was harsh and the look in her eyes was wild, desperate, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, when suddenly she tensed and clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cry as she shattered around him. Everything inside him spiralled in, sucking into a single point, a black hole in the pit of his groin. He thrust one last time, hard and deep, and the whole universe collapsed into nothingness before suddenly exploding out the other side into colour and light.

When feeling eventually returned to his limbs and his head had stopped spinning, Adam carefully withdrew and dealt with the condom, his body still spasming with tiny darts of lingering pleasure. As he put himself back together and regained control, Ella slowly straightened, smoothed her dress and her hair, then turned to face him, flushed, glowing, still slightly tousled.

‘That was...’ She shook her head, looking dumbstruck. ‘I don’t even know what that was.’

Neither did he. He’d never experienced anything like it. He usually deployed far more finesse, although he usually had far more time and these days he favoured a bed. All he did know was that he wanted to take her home and do what they’d just done over and over again in every position under the sun all night long—and not just because it would obliterate thoughts of difficult boards and troubling share prices. ‘How about that martini?’

For a moment, she looked torn and his pulse spiked. But then she gave her head a regretful shake and picked up her bag.

‘Some other time,’ she said, hooking the strap onto her shoulder while a wrecking ball of disappointment thumped him in the gut. ‘But thank you.’

With the faintest of smiles, she dropped a quick kiss on his cheek as she brushed past him, then unlocked the door and slipped out.