Ruthless Heir (Ruthless Billionaires #5)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Asher

Date number one: Completed.

Status: Negative.

It was a complete no-go. Along with nearly two hours of my life I’ll never get back.

At least it’s not too late. It’s just past eight so the night isn’t completely wasted. I head into the living room and take off my jacket, relieved I cut my date short.

Jennifer Paxton was a smart, beautiful, successful lawyer. She had all the qualities I love in a woman but our entire date was like a role play of a fictional court case. Seriously, I don’t even think I could make that shit up.

From the moment she suggested the role play I checked out.

She was to be the prosecuting attorney and me the defense.

The fictional case she made up was of a man who’d stolen his friend’s intellectual property and claimed it as his own.

I stuck around for an hour only because she was Hunter’s top recommendation. The extra forty minutes came about because our food was late. I made my escape by telling her that I had an international business call to make that I couldn’t reschedule.

I’ve never been so bored on a date in my life. Or angrier at my brother.

How the fuck Hunter thought I’d like that woman is beyond me. There was a point where I wondered if I was being too picky. Then I imagined myself with her and realized I was being the right amount of selective .

If all my dates are like tonight I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.

Nineteen more dates to go.

Tomorrow has to be better . I suppose if the worst-case scenario were to happen and I don’t like any of them by Sunday, I’ll still have two days before Father’s deadline to figure something else out.

I hope it doesn’t come to that but it’s the backup plan. As to what I’ll do during that time is anyone’s guess.

I look around for Harper. The house is quieter than usual.

Olga works a half day on Monday and most of the house staff have an easy day where they finish early, too. It’s because they know I’m likely to get back late.

It looks like I’m by myself.

I head to Harper’s room and confirm she’s not there. I don’t like not knowing where she is.

Deciding that I’ve had enough of the silent treatment, I grab my phone and call her.

To my absolute annoyance the phone goes straight to voicemail.

“Harper, where are you? I’m home. Call me when you get this.” I try to keep the irritation out of my tone but my voice is swimming with it.

She probably won’t call back, and when she sees me—if she decides to talk to me—she may say it wasn’t ten yet.

I decide to grab a beer and head out to the balcony of my room to smoke and drink. I need some downtime.

Today felt like it was several lifetimes rolled into one.

I loosen my tie and kick back on the chair with my beer in one hand and a cigar in the other.

As I smoke and drink I mull over my plans for the week that I’m not looking forward to. When I get past this finding a wife thing my focus needs to be on Nolan.

I need to get him out of the picture completely. Once I get rid of him it should become easier to remove his father, too. Finding dirt on Nolan will lead to Nigel because that shit will have been orchestrated by him.

Nolan is Nigel’s puppet. Nolan isn't clever enough to think of his own accord. But Nigel is. Nigel is the mastermind behind all of this.

It's clear they want to push me out of the company. The fucked-up thing is, it would be easy. Nolan and I have the same skill set and our fathers are friends. That's a deadly cocktail in itself.

On top of that, my father is bound by all these terms and conditions set out by my grandfather for the company that prevent him from intervening even if he wanted to.

Grandfather saw the company as a living person, never a thing or a simple entity. He set the kind of rules that you would with a child, to make sure it’s taken care of if you’re no longer around.

The rumble of a motorcycle engine cuts into my thoughts.

It gets louder and I realize it's actually on my property.

But who could that be? I have motorcycles. I'm used to hearing my own. Hunter has a motorcycle, too. So do a couple of our friends but I’m not expecting any of them.

The sound gets closer and I swivel my head to the left just in time to see a black motorcycle blazing up the driveway. Riding it is a guy dressed in full black leather with visor-style sunglasses and long black hair. A blonde woman is glued to his back, wearing his helmet.

A blonde woman who looks like Harper .

The sudden realization that it's her makes me drop my cigar and I push to my feet, staring at them open-mouthed.

They careen around the path and stop in front of the house. Where I’m standing they should be able to see me but they don’t.

The bike rolls to a stop and Harper gets off.

My eyes unashamedly move straight to her hot little body dressed in a pair of short-short denim shorts and a tank top that shows off way, way too much cleavage.

She pulls off the helmet, unleashing her long blonde hair that makes her look like an erotic mermaid.

She hands the helmet to the guy and he gets off the bike and looks her up and down like he wants to eat her.

He’s as tall as me and built like a wrestler. Or a Viking warrior. A full beard covers his chin and tattoos cover his neck and the parts of his arms and fingers that I can see outside his biker jacket.

I swear some of those tattoos look like Russian Mafia prison tattoos but I’m too far away to confirm that.

He looks like the kind of guy who would be in the mafia or into extreme sports. I know guys like that. They’re all dangerous but the difference here is that I

know them. I don’t know this guy.

He says something that makes Harper laugh. Any second now I expect her to twirl her hair and do that annoying fake flirty laugh women sometimes do to sound sexy.

She laughs again but it sounds real. I don’t know why but it gets to me.

Maybe because I haven’t seen her look so happy or laugh like that in years. She barely cracked a smile with me the other day when we were eating dinner.

She cocks her head and the two start joking around.

My blood heats when he reaches out and touches her face then traces a line from her cheek down to her neck and wraps a lock of her hair around his finger.

Who the fuck is he?

I'm aware that Harper has plenty of friends from the past here in New York, but seeing this guy jars me. This is no ordinary guy. And he’s not a friend .

He’s touching her like he wants to fuck her. But…maybe he already has.

Was he who she was talking about the other day?

When she said there were plenty of hotels to hook up in? Or clubs and fucking back alleys. He certainly looks like the type who would do all of the above.

Okay, like she said the other day, I’m no saint. I’ve done all the above too, but this isn’t about me. And I don’t want her to do any of that shit.

Is that where they’ve come from?

My stomach twists with a foreign feeling when I think of that guy with his hands all over her body.

The feeling and the image boil my blood like lava in an active volcano and my body temperature rises like it’s gonna blow.

When he leans in to kiss her cheek and tug on her top, my wild imagination takes over.

I skip past the sex and think of him hurting her. Hurting her the way Nick did. That’s enough to move me.

Rage fuels my steps and I race down the stairs.

“I promise Harper won’t be any trouble,” says Josh in my head.

No, Josh. Your sister is the fucking goddess of trouble.

Just like there are the goddesses of spring, love, war, happiness, death. Harper is right up there with them.

My mythology is a little rusty but I think the goddess of trouble was called Eris. The one who played a key role in the Trojan War. Harper is the incarnate of her.

That would certainly explain the dark-haired saber-toothed X-men-looking dude on my drive talking to her.

I fling the door open, hoping like hell they're still just talking .

I’m thankful when I see that they are. The sound of the door smashing into the wall makes them jump apart.

Harper's eyes widen when she sees me and the guy gives me a curious stare.

Now that I’m close and can see him better, I think I’m right. This is exactly the kind of freak she shouldn’t be talking to.

“Who the hell is this?” I stare him down, knowing I’ve embarrassed Harper and not caring.

I look at her and see I’m right. Her cheeks are red.

The guy extends his hand toward me and gives me a pleasant smile. “I'm Jack. I was just making sure Harper got home safe.”

He sounds decent enough but I don't care. All psychos sound like that when you first meet them.

“She's safe now so you can leave.”

Jack looks taken aback and Harper looks like she might wither away. She steps between us and frowns at me with a claw-your-eyes-out look on her face.

She looks back at Jack with a nervous smile. “Sorry, Jack. My brother's best friend hasn't taken his meds today.”

What the fuck?

Suddenly I'm just her brother's best friend and I no longer have a name.

“Don’t want to cause any trouble between you and your brother’s best friend .” He looks back at me, assessing me like he wants a fight.

That’s fine. I’ll give him one. He has a little more muscle than me but I’ve handled bigger guys. I’d take him down in a heartbeat. God knows I need to work off some steam.

“There’s no trouble at all.” Harper moves closer to him, breaking the demented stare he’s giving me. “How about I see you next week at the party?”

At the mention of this party he looks away from me. It’s like she said magical words that have him back under her spell.

“Sure thing, baby girl.”

Baby girl?

My hand balls at my side and my knuckles crack.

“Call me,” Harper says in a sweet voice.

“Of course.” Jack winks at her and gives her a quick kiss on her forehead.

The asshole ignores me until he gets back on his bike, then he throws me a

vicious look before he guns the engine and rides away, tearing down the drive in the same manner he came in— wild .

As soon as he turns the corner and we can’t see him anymore Harper snaps her gaze back to me and summons the filthiest look I’ve ever seen.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Did you have to be so damn rude to him?”

“Where did you meet that guy?” I cut to the chase.

She stares back at me as if I’ve just sprouted fur all over my face. “What the hell are you asking me?”

“You heard me. Where did you meet him?”

“You are unbelievable. He's a friend of mine.”

“That is not a friend. That guy wants to fuck you.”

“Oh my God. I’m not talking to you right now.” She marches past me, dashing up the wide steps and into the house.

I follow. I’m not done with her yet. “That's the kind of guy you shouldn't be with.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Are you serious? Apart from the attitude, just look at him. Covered in tats with that long hair like a pirate. Everything is wrong with him.”

She stops and whirls around to face me. “You are being completely ridiculous. You have tons of tattoos and there was a time when you had long hair, too.”

“I was in college and my hair was never that fucking long. How old is he?”

“Thirty-four.”

Hearing that fucks with me even more. No wonder he called her baby girl. “Harper. He’s too old for you.”

“No, he’s not. He’s perfect for me.

“So he isn’t just a friend, then? You two are fucking around?”

“Guess what? I'm not having this conversation with you.” She turns and continues her pursuit down the hallway. But I still follow.

“You’re not going to that party next week.”

To my surprise she laughs.

“I’m serious. You're not going.” I raise my voice.

“Really? I’d love to see you try and stop me. Jack also happens to have an extra room and I’m more than welcome to stay with him. I’ve decided I’m going to take him up on the offer.”

I grab her arm and pull her back so hard she crashes into my chest. “Like fuck are you staying with him. Josh asked me to look after you, not Jack . You’re staying here. There is no way I’m going to let him down and allow you to move in with some asshole.”

“Asher, Josh is in a submarine hundreds and hundreds of miles away. Deep, deep, deep under the sea. If I choose to leave neither of you can stop me. You are a ridiculous nightmare and I can’t live with you. You’re the one who’s an asshole. Not Jack. Now let me go.”

Her words sting worse than I imagined they would. I stare back at her, realizing I’m not going to win here. Not tonight. So I release her.

Harper rolls her eyes at me and storms away.

I watch her until I can no longer see her and when the haze of rage clears from my mind, the second layer of realization dawns on me that she’s right.

My behavior just now was…

Not like me at all.

This girl is making me act fucking crazy.

I bring a weary hand to my head and breathe out a haggard sigh, sounding like a man who’s fallen into a deep dark hole he can’t get himself out of.

Just now I was rude and ridiculous, enraged and furious, volatile and ruthless.

My temper went from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds just because Jack was with Harper.

Because he was touching her.

Something wicked slithers down my insides and something more hits me that sums up my behavior with one simple annoying word— jealousy.

I wasn’t acting crazy for no reason.

I behaved that way because…

I’m jealous.