Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Barron

M uffled music and laughter penetrate the walls of the office at the back of the club as Austin and I walk in.

“Grab a seat.” I pull two water bottles from the mini fridge, handing him one as I go past him, then take a seat behind my desk.

“No major incidents to report, just the usual quirks of this type of crowd.” His delivery is deliberate, filled with the intensity of a leader with a military background. “My team has everything under control, but it’s still early.”

When we started looking for a consultant, the name that came up over and over was Austin Connors. His reputation, which was primarily on the West Coast, was making its way across the country.

“What about last night?” I lean back against the cushioned leather office chair. “I understand Bronwyn was acting erratically.”

“Like I said, the usual quirks to this type of crowd.” To his benefit, Austin doesn’t bat an eye. “We neutralized the situation. Then two of us, a woman on my team and I, escorted her to her cabin. I stationed a guard at her door to make sure she stayed there.”

“Well done.” So far, everything I’ve seen with this man has been spot-on to the recommendations I’ve gotten.

“I’d be careful,” he says. “She was quick to throw your name out once she thought she was in trouble. I’m not sure that’s the kind of attention you’d want.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Definitely not the attention I want.”

I consider for a moment whether I should share the report on her. Austin and his team will still have to deal with her until the end of the cruise. And with his customer base, he may cross paths with her again. “Let me show you something.”

I pull up my email on the office computer and send the report to one of the screens on the wall. Austin strides over, folding his arms as he reads through the document.

After a few seconds, he glances over his shoulder, pulling an arm up to point at the screen. “Where did you get this kind of information?” he asks, somewhere between curious and impressed.

There’s no way in hell I could tell him. Dante and his group work covertly, and his version of a nondisclosure agreement comes with dire consequences.

“I have good contacts,” I reply, skirting the answer.

Austin turns back to the screen. “Any chance you can introduce me to this contact?”

I lean my head to one side. It’s not that he couldn’t afford it; he’s successful enough to have the money for Dante’s group. He just may not be the ideal client for the group.

“Take advantage of what I’m sharing with you. We’ll see where things go from here.”

He shakes his head. “She’s a real piece of work.”

“Hmm.” That’s putting it mildly.

“I doubt the scene she caused will reflect on the club.” He turns to face me. “That was all her.”

“I’m not a get-out-of-jail-free card.” I close the document. “What would you suggest?”

“Ban her from the club,” Austin says, without hesitation.

That would solve a lot of problems. “I like the idea.”

“One thing I’ll mention,” he says, typing on his phone. “Holly was out of her element.”

“Yes. She had no business being there,” I mutter. “Thanks for watching out for her.”

“Rhys Davenport was here,” he says, giving credit where credit is due. “He stepped in before things could escalate and got her out of there.”

The mention of Rhys brings some relief, but the gnawing in my gut doesn’t ease. Holly shouldn’t have put herself in that situation. What if she’d ended up hurt…

“Holly wasn’t supposed to be at the club,” I confess. “She invited my mother to join the trip as a surprise. She assumed she could cover for me so the club wouldn’t come up in conversation and upset my mother’s sensibilities.”

Austin raises an eyebrow, his professional mask slipping into concern. “Is she going to be a problem?”

“My mother?” I scoff. “Only if I’m not minding my manners around her.”

He comes back to the chair he was occupying. “Well, you never know with family, Barron.”

I blow out a breath, acknowledging the truth in his words. “My mother is my only parent now.” The words linger between us, heavy and more revealing than I intend. “Although she’s from a small town in South Texas, she’s not the delicate flower people assume. You know how that goes.”

Austin’s gaze meets mine. “I understand the small-town mentality,” he says with a flicker of shared understanding. “But the only reason I call my only living parent ‘father’ is because of biology.”

“Fair enough.” I know what it’s like to have a hard, absentee father. For all that he tried instilling his values in me, I wasn’t able to meet his expectations. That’s the main reason for my drive to make my first billion on my own. “As it happens, I have friends in Nueces.”

“That right,” he says, returning to the stoic expression. “Learned about my ties there from one of those reports?” He motions toward my cell.

“Recommendations, actually.” I recline in my chair. “I have friends and investors who are from your hometown.”

Austin chuckles. “Funny how I can move to the other end of the country, yet I keep getting dragged back.”

“Cherish your friends and family, Austin,” I say softly, the advice as much a reminder to myself as counsel to him. “No matter how complicated, they’re a part of us.”

He meets my eyes, that invisible wall going up in his eyes. “Whether we like it or not.”

He’s dead-on. “Whether we like it or not.”

He stands. “I’d better get out there. I’ve briefed my team on Bronwyn. We’ll escort her out when and if she shows up.”

“Sounds good.” He heads to the door as I close the folder in front of me. “Let’s keep a close watch tonight. We don’t need any more surprises.”

Austin agrees, and with a final nod, he steps out. I’m left with my own thoughts on family and how they’re a part of us. Mother’s words echo in my mind.

You’re just like your father.

A rush of annoyance has me pushing away from my desk. Time to go.

I leave my office, stopping to make sure the lock clicks in place. The first thing I see is a couple in a nearby alcove. The dim light casts a shadow over the entwined bodies.

The woman, wearing a slinky red dress that hugs her curves, is sitting across a guy’s lap. Her long legs are draped over his thighs, her hips moving as she grinds on him. He’s bringing down a thin strap on her dress, his fingers grazing her bare shoulder.

I look away, concentrating on reaching the exit. I purposely avoid eye contact, not wanting to engage in any conversation.

The intimate scene in the alcove hit too close to home, stirring up memories I’d rather not dwell on. Yet, desire rushes through me, bringing Abigail to mind. The waterfall of hair, her eyes still damp with tears, the soft lips I didn’t get to taste.

I clench my jaw, shoving the thoughts away. I can’t let myself be swayed by a pretty face and a luscious body. No matter how bad I want it.

Fuck.

“Barron.” Someone calls my name. The woman’s voice cuts through the haze. “Come have a drink.”

It’s a friendly invitation, but I continue through, finally reaching the entrance. I shove the door open, intent on getting the hell away from the club and everyone in it. Only I nearly collide with the very person I wanted to avoid.

“Barron.” She pouts, batting her lashes at me. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”

“Bronwyn,” I reply with a curt tone, keeping my greeting short and noncommittal.

“I was hoping I’d find you here tonight,” she purrs, her tone heavy with suggestion as she runs a finger along my arm. “Are you sure you can’t come play for a little while?”

“I have somewhere to be,” I state firmly, brushing past her without letting her slow me down. I’m in no mood to entertain Bronwyn’s games at the moment.

“Miss O’Neal,” Austin says from directly behind me. “I’d like to talk to you.”

I make my way down the corridor. The club attendants and staff I pass give me a wide berth, likely picking up on my foul mood and body language.

Yesterday, I was unaffected, unfazed by it all. But today, after my heated encounter with Abigail, everything is different. That woman I just saw was too close to what I’ve been picturing in my head. What I was doing with Abigail. What I wanted to continue doing with Abigail.

I had to escape the charged atmosphere and get my dick under control, to erase the images of her from my mind.

I don’t want to think about the way that dress let me count the tiny freckles on her shoulders.

The dress that had me imagining the taste of her nipples.

The sorry excuse for underwear that made me wonder what it would be like if I replaced the fingers I had probing her pussy with my aching cock.

I reach the elevator and shove my hand in my pocket, retrieving the key card I need. One swipe and the doors open, letting me step inside the waiting car. A jab of my thumb on the button sends me shooting up to my suite.

I’m in a foul mood. I don’t want anyone around right now. Not Holly, not the people at the club, and certainly not Bronwyn and her repeated attempts to lure me in. I thought it would be interesting to see how far she’d go to try to dig her talons into me, but that was short-lived.

The numbers light up as I get closer to my floor. By this hour, everyone should be asleep. It’s past two o’clock back in Texas, and, according to what Mother said yesterday, she’s normally falling asleep by ten.

The doors slide open. I exit the elevator and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror lining the wall ahead. No wonder people shrank away. I look pissed, and ready to take it out on the first person to get in the way.

How can I be so distracted, so consumed, over a woman who’s quite possibly taking advantage of my mother’s generosity? I should leave her at the next port. That’s close enough to an airport that she could fly home without a problem. At this point, anywhere away from my family will do.

Needing a diversion from my spiraling thoughts, I snag a book off the shelf at random. I had the shelves stocked with titles I’ve read or I’m interested in reading, so it hardly matters which one I grab.

I let myself into the suite, catching the heavy door before it can slam shut and disturb anyone inside. Even though I could do with yelling at at least one of them. Abigail for the role she’s playing, and Mother for allowing herself to be so easily manipulated.

I stride through the darkened living area and past the kitchenette without making too much noise. But, once I’m inside my bedroom, I still feel like a caged animal, the spacious quarters doing little to alleviate the building pressure inside me.

I toss the book onto the bed, not caring where it lands. Then I pull at the knot of my tie, yanking it free from around my collar only to toss it toward the couch. It lands on the shirt I discarded earlier, the crisp white fabric marred with smears of Abigail’s makeup.

I’m immediately assaulted by vivid flashes of her in my mind’s eye again.

Abigail, sitting across my legs, subservient.

Abigail, lying across me, my hand covering the curve of her ass.

And, of course, how we ended, with Abigail straddling me, my fingers on her drenched pussy. Her hands are on my chest. She’s biting her lip. She’s clenching her thighs, her nails digging into me as she’s hit with an orgasm that has her back arching beautifully.

What’s worse, the conniving little bitch tasted so fucking sweet.

I wrench the buttons on my coat open, trying to ignore, if not erase, the memory. If that whole thing was merely an act to seduce me, she deserves a goddamn Oscar for her performance.

My jacket lands on top of the shirt and tie, for good measure. I don’t need it tormenting me any more than it already has. What I should have done was hit the gym instead of coming straight back here. Any exertion that’ll help me work off some of this restless, pent-up energy burning inside me.

It’s too late to head back across the ship. I’ll have to settle for a shower then see if I can get some sleep. I’ll decide what to do about Abigail in the morning, when I can think more rationally.

The blast of hot water pounds over my head and shoulders. It does little to loosen the tension coiled in my muscles. Making quick work of my bath, I turn the handle, ending the spray, and step out onto the plush bath mat.

I give my damp hair a vigorous toweling then drag it across my chest and back before wrapping the terry cloth around my waist. I don’t bother with a brush, just rake my fingers through my hair so it doesn’t come down to my face.

In the bedroom, I pull the covers back and drop onto the mattress. While I lost the feeling of being caged, my annoyance hasn’t gone away completely.

I need food and a stiff drink. Maybe two. Maybe five. Maybe I just needed to bury myself in that sweet pussy and pound into her until I don’t give a damn about anything else.

Determined to get this out of my system, I yank the door open to grab some ice from the freezer and come up short.