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

CHAPTER ELEVEN

E LLA HAD BEEN finding it almost impossible to remain cool and detached when the snippets of information Adam had shared with her were so fascinating and everything he’d shown her was so stunning.

Really, she should have resisted the tour of his island. But he’d taken her by surprise. Up until then, they’d stuck to the villa, so why the sudden change in routine? For a moment she’d wondered whether he could be getting bored of her . Perhaps she needed to up her game sexwise, she’d thought with a flicker of concern. Unlike him, she didn’t have many skills in her repertoire. She was more about numbers than tricks. How might one go about sourcing a pair of handcuffs while languishing incognito on an island that was a fifteen-minute seaplane ride from the nearest shop?

But whatever the reason for the volte-face, she’d figured her body could do with a break. Besides, it wasn’t as if she would be making make the mistake of fixating on him again or expressing any great fascination for anything. She’d learned her lesson on that front. She was like a fortress. Rock solid and unassailable.

She’d just about held it together outwardly, but pretty much the minute they’d set off in his jeep for the tour, she’d been captivated by the landscape—the verdancy, the crimson hibiscus that flourished everywhere, the cacti, the palm trees and the sand, so much sand. Her senses had been overwhelmed. The colours were so intense. The sounds so exotic. The scents so deliciously tropical.

When he’d begun to talk, it hadn’t taken long for her curiosity to break free of its confines and batter her with the desire to know more. About life in the castle, the wedding-cake mansion and his ancestry. About the staff who worked for him, the rowing boats and how he relaxed. All of it was wildly different to anything she’d ever known. His life experiences had clearly been the polar opposite of hers, which made them all the more gripping.

Then he’d taken her up in the seaplane and dazzled her with sights so stunning she’d wanted to weep. Nature had never looked so majestic. The fact that she’d always overlooked this part of the world seemed unfathomable. What made a blue hole? she couldn’t help but wonder. What was the story behind the shipwreck? Did any of the super glamorous resorts belong to him?

However, she’d pushed away these clamouring questions and reined in her curiosity. She’d repeatedly reminded herself of the need to steer clear of any sort of emotional connection with him, to resist getting caught up in the fantastical luxury of it all, and told herself that there was always the internet for the facts.

It was a challenge. The tension generated by such self-restraint was excruciating. But she stayed strong and held off.

Until the night he insisted on joining her for a walk along the beach that she’d planned to take alone to clear her head and strengthen her defences, after a dinner during which he’d seemed distant and preoccupied.

Something was on his mind, she thought, too on edge with awareness and anxiety to fully appreciate the beauty of the dark sea sparkling in the moonlight and the tiny waves lapping gently on the shore. The sand was warm between her toes. The evening breeze caressed the bare skin of her arms and legs.

Peace and tranquillity abounded, but nevertheless her stomach churned and her throat was tight. These past couple of days she’d sensed that he didn’t appreciate her lack of engagement, even though he ought to. That was exactly what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? So had he had enough? Was she out of his system and was he planning to end the affair? How would she feel if he did? Short-changed? Relieved? She didn’t know.

‘Let’s sit,’ he said quietly, cutting through her jittery thoughts and making her jump.

She swallowed hard and fought back the panic which revealed that she didn’t want this to be over just yet. ‘I’d rather be heading back.’

‘Please.’

Something about the tone of his voice prickled her skin and switched her senses to high alert. Her heart began to thud. He looked oddly nervous, which was bizarre when she’d never seen him anything other than supremely confident. But at least that ruled out ending things. If that was his intention, he’d come right out and say it. He wouldn’t need a dinner to think it through and a walk on the beach. And anyway, this felt weightier than that. If she’d been the dramatic sort, she’d have described the atmosphere between them as momentous even. ‘All right.’

He led her to a wide, spacious hammock that hung between two palm trees. She arranged herself at one end, he at the other. He rubbed his hands over his face and then gave himself a shake. ‘Do you remember once asking me about my home life?’ he said, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it.

Ella’s breath caught in her lungs. The question was wholly unexpected. What was going on? Was he actually going to talk to her? Now? Why? She didn’t want that. Except, she did. God, she did . She wanted to know what made him tick. She craved information. So much so that she couldn’t turn down this opportunity to get it. And so what if it did create some sort of a connection? It was hardly likely to be a deep one. They were already two-thirds of the way into their affair. In approximately a week’s time, it would be over and all contact would be instantly severed, exactly as planned.

So she took a deep breath and said, ‘How could I forget when you punished me so exquisitely for it?’

He gave her a fleeting smile that tugged briefly on her heart strings and was gone all too soon. ‘My upbringing wasn’t very pleasant,’ he said gruffly. ‘Not quite as tough as yours, but nevertheless, not very pleasant. You said you’d read about my father.’

She nodded, thinking with an inward grimace of the photos, the scandals and the lawsuits that had hit the tabloids over the years.

‘He was selfish and volatile. On occasion he could be cruel. When he was around we walked on eggshells. When he wasn’t, well, the press let us know where he was and what he was doing. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t having an affair. Sometimes he brought the women he slept with home, which, even at the age of six, I knew wasn’t quite right.’

A wave of nausea rose up her throat and she swallowed it back down. ‘How quickly you must have had to grow up.’

‘No quicker than you.’

Well, yes, that was true, but this wasn’t about her. ‘How did you all cope?’

‘My mother dealt with it by moving to Northumberland shortly after Charley was born and hardly ever left. When I was seven I went off to boarding school, and once there, it was easy not to think about home too much. As I got older, I stayed away as much as I could. It wasn’t hard. Whenever possible, I spent the holidays with friends. When I wasn’t doing that, I was out. I partied hard. I screwed around. A lot. In fact, some of my behaviour wasn’t that dissimilar to my father’s. He once called me a chip off the old block, and he was right. I didn’t give a toss about anyone but myself, and I didn’t care who I hurt in the process.’

Because it was too hard to think of the boy and teenager he’d been, adrift without support, having to rely totally on himself just as she had, Ella forced the image from her head. And because she didn’t want to be feeling anything for him at all, she thought instead of the Blush magazine article she’d read and recalled how annoyed he’d seemed about it. ‘You said that wasn’t who you were any more.’

‘That’s right.’

‘So, what changed?’

‘My mother died. She took a fatal overdose fourteen years ago when I was eighteen and my sister was eight.’

When that information sank in, it immediately demolished her indifference. How terribly, terribly sad, she thought, her chest aching and her eyes pricking. How devastating that must have been. For all his material privilege, his environment had been just as traumatic as hers, although for very different reasons. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘She was thoroughly miserable and by that point very fragile,’ he said bleakly. ‘But even so, it was my fault. She rang me that night. I didn’t answer the call. If I had, I might have been able to save her.’

At the guilt in his voice and the torment on his face, the ache in her chest intensified. ‘It wasn’t your fault. It couldn’t have been.’

‘It was. I was out having too much fun. I was in a nightclub at the time, with a girl, and I just didn’t want to be bothered.’

‘That must have been so difficult to bear,’ she said, because who was she to try and convince him otherwise?

‘It still is,’ he said. ‘But I’m trying to do something about it. You once asked me what was so important about Montague’s.’

‘You claimed it was all about the bottom line.’

‘It’s not about that. I want it back for her. While she was in Northumberland, she had an affair of her own. Just the one—with a neighbour. But my father found out. Ever the hypocrite, he took objection and retaliated. He knew Montague’s meant a lot to her. Not because it was where they’d met—she as a trainee jewellery designer, he on tour of the company’s North American assets—but because she’d been there since leaving school and had dreams of one day running the place. He sold it to Helberg out of spite, for a dollar.’

For a moment Ella didn’t know what to say. Just when she thought Edward Courtney couldn’t sink any lower in her estimation, he plumbed new depths. ‘No wonder you want justice.’

Adam gave a nod and blew out a breath. ‘Anyway, her death and my role in it was the wake-up call I needed. It made me reassess the way I was living. I gave up the hedonism and knuckled down. I finished university and then started working at the company back home. It was at that point that I realised how bad things were there. My father was CEO for nearly thirty years. In that time, he almost destroyed the business. When he died and I took over, I was determined to do things differently. I refuse to let his genes dominate me.’

‘They don’t and you have. You stopped the company from nosediving into oblivion, according to one press report I found. You turned it around in a year. That must have taken some doing.’

‘It’s taken sixteen-hour days, more often than not, seven days a week and a number of challenging personnel situations. But I wasn’t having a company that was started by my great-great-great-grandfather vanish off the face of the earth while I was around to do something about it.’

Ella recognised his determination and ambition, and it occurred to her yet again that maybe they weren’t that dissimilar after all. But that wasn’t a particularly constructive thought, so she redirected her focus to his sister. ‘How did Charley handle things?’

He frowned. Studied the sea beyond her right shoulder for a moment, then returned his gaze to hers. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I never asked. But she went through a wild patch as a teenager, so that could have been how.’

‘I read up on Trouble Maker,’ she said in case it helped. ‘It seems to be doing well. Judging by the recent press it’s had, it’s heading straight for success.’

‘So I’ve been told.’

‘You sound as if you disapprove.’

‘I don’t. It’s just...complicated.’

‘In what way?’

‘I don’t really have a relationship with her, but I’ve found it hard to trust her nevertheless,’ he said. ‘She’s made some bad decisions in the past. She quit school early and took up modelling. She got caught up in that world and went off the rails, and I’m pretty sure I don’t know the half of what she got up to. That’s why I made the trip to London that you questioned me about. She’d bought a flat. I was concerned it might be another bad decision. I didn’t consider the implications of using the company jet at the time. I just wanted to get there as soon as possible. But when I did, she made it very clear that my concern was misplaced. And it was. The flat was fine. She had every right to be annoyed.’

In response to the flicker of discomfort that sped across his face, Ella felt her eyes narrow and her feathers ruffle. ‘And was she?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Well, that’s not fair,’ she said, feeling quite outraged on his behalf. ‘Presumably you have her best interests at heart.’

‘I haven’t always. I’ve let her down repeatedly. She once rang me, begging to come back home from the school our father had sent her to. I brushed her off. I wasn’t there when she dropped out or when she got into trouble. I haven’t taken the time to get to know her.’

‘You weren’t around. You were busy trying to sort out your father’s mess.’

‘It’s no excuse.’

‘Well, I think it is,’ she said, bristling madly before thinking that she had to calm down. She really did.

She shouldn’t be leaping to his defence. She shouldn’t be feeling compassion and sympathy for him or dwelling on the lost boy and troubled teen he must have been. Even though she now understood that the reason he’d been so reluctant to answer her questions about Helberg and the flight to London back in the office was because both triggered deeply personal and evidently painful memories, it wasn’t her responsibility to absolve him of the guilt he felt over his mother’s suicide or his sister’s troubled adolescence.

She must not get carried away. She must not read anything into what he’d told her at all. And why was he suddenly looking so intently at her? As if he wanted to devour her? Was the time for talking once again over? God, she hoped so, because she badly needed reminding that this was just sex. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘If I kissed you right now, would you assume I was trying to distract you?’

‘Are you?’

‘No.’

‘Then what are you waiting for?’

Adam had never revealed to anyone what he’d just told Ella. In direct contrast to his father, he kept his private life private. He believed that enough of his family’s dirty laundry had been washed in public and had always avoided personal interviews, partly because he feared giving up control of his narrative, partly because certainly in the early days of his stewardship of the company, he’d felt it would severely weaken his position. He’d certainly never been tempted to spill his guts to any of the women he dated, who’d never meant anything to him anyway.

So he hadn’t known what to expect when he’d taken a seat in the hammock and begun to talk to Ella. Fire and brimstone? A crash of thunder or lightning strike? At the very least, he might have anticipated severe discomfort. Judgement and disapproval had not been off the cards either.

However, there’d been none of that. No rent heavens or plagues of locusts. She’d just listened, without prejudice. And the only moment of unease he’d experienced was when her eyes had filled with sympathy at his mother’s suicide, which he did not deserve despite what she might claim.

Voicing it had been no worse than thinking it. In fact, he was more preoccupied with the outrage she’d displayed when they’d been talking about his visit to Charley. No one had ever come to his defence before. He’d always fought his battles on his own. He’d never had anyone in his corner. Yet in it she’d been.

His chest felt tight, his heart beating too fast. His head was spinning, even though he was half lying back. Above them, a vast canopy of stars twinkled in the inky blue night sky. Beyond the beach stretched the huge sea dotted with the odd light of a moored yacht. But all he was interested in was this hammock, which contained this woman. His gaze locked with hers. Her eyes were shining with invitation. A faint smile curved her mouth.

His pulse was thundering even before she removed her T-shirt, unclipped her bra and dropped both onto the sand. She shimmied out of her skirt and underwear until she was naked in the moonlight, and he thought he’d never seen such a beautiful sight.

‘You’re overdressed,’ she said, her gaze slowly roaming over him and setting fire to his blood. ‘I would help, but I wouldn’t want to tip us onto the sand.’

It was a matter of moments to get out of the hammock, remove his clothes and apply protection, even though his hands seemed to be trembling. Then he climbed back in carefully and arranged himself on top of her, lowering his head to hers and kissing her until she was panting and moaning and the world around them disappeared.

Her hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, holding him to her as if not wanting to let him go. Carefully, smoothly, he manoeuvred her onto her side and wrapped himself around her, her back tight against his chest, their legs entwined. She twisted her head round and he kissed her again, one hand tangled in her hair, the other on her breast.

Desire poured through him. His heart was pounding so hard she had to be able to feel it. When he slid his hand down her body, she shivered and pressed herself against his erection, which ached and throbbed. His fingers parted her and she raised her leg to grant him better access. He found her warm and wet, and when she reached behind her to take him in her hand, he couldn’t wait any longer. He held her hip, allowing her to guide him to her entrance, and when he was there, he surged into her slick velvety heat.

Ella gasped. His entire body shook. And then, cocooned in the hammock, so closely connected that not even the night’s breeze could find its way between them, they began to rock together. Slowly, steadily, yet with an intensity that built and built and built, until she cried out softly and shattered, trembling against him as her fingers dug into his hip.

The powerful convulsions went on and on, clamping around him so relentlessly, so exquisitely, that they tipped him over the edge. With a hoarse groan, he pulled her against him and climaxed in a white-hot rush of ecstasy, pulsating into her harder and for longer than he ever had before, until he was limp, blitzed, completely hollowed out.

And just like that, he thought dazedly as they lay there, catching their breath, the sweat cooling on their bodies, the soul in the sex was back.