Anything He Wants 2: All's Fair (Dominated By The Billionaire) Read online

  The low words took me a moment to process, but managed to cut through the haze of lust. I broke off the kiss, realizing what I'd almost allowed to happen – again – and looked into his eyes. The hot need in his eyes still made my insides melt, but when I pushed weakly at his shoulders he stepped back, lowering me gently to the floor. My skirt was bunched around my hips much to my chagrin, and I hurried to correct it as I skittered sideways out of his reach.

  “You should get some rest, it's a long flight to Paris.”

  I looked back at him. He stood there looking good enough to eat, as comfortable naked as he did buttoned up in those expensive suits. Why am I walking away from him again?

  Principles. Morals. Oh yeah. Dammit.

  Giving him a jerky nod, I forced myself to turn around and walk back to my seat. Grabbing a pillow from a nearby cubby, I sat down in my seat and pushed the chair to recline backwards. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but managed to finally fall into a fitful slumber as the sun passed the horizon, the orange glow extinguished by the earth below.

  At some point, I awoke and only saw darkness outside the windows. Somebody – Jeremiah? – had not only covered me with a blanket but also tucked the edges in around my body. I frowned, certain it hadn’t been there when I sat down, and looked behind my seat to see Jeremiah fast asleep in another chair nearby. His shirt was once again buttoned, the suit jacket folded neatly in the chair beside him. He took up more space in the chair so couldn't tuck himself in like I did, but seemed comfortable reclining back. Sleep had softened the hard expression on his face; he looked different, younger, more relaxed like this.

  I wish I could hate him, I mused, but there was no anger in the thought. The man in that chair had all but blackmailed me into signing a contract that allowed him whatever liberties he wanted to take, yet there had been moments of almost tenderness that shone through. He never did anything I didn’t want, I thought, fingering the blanket around me. I wonder which is the real man: the hard CEO who interviewed me bent over his desk, or the man who covered me with this blanket.

  I shelved that conversation for another day, exhaustion making my eyes heavy. Yawning quietly, I pulled the blanket up to my chin, nestled into the comfortable chair, and slid back into a sound sleep.

  2

  “Do you have anything to claim?”

  Considering I wasn't allowed to bring anything with me... “No.”

  The man checked my passport again, then handed it back to me, motioning for the next person as I walked past the desk. Bold letters displayed above told my location in several languages, and I stopped and stared. I’m really in France.

  Jeremiah stood nearby, and as I drew abreast he laid a hand on the small of my back and steered me through the small crowd. I saw a line of people waiting for the new arrivals as we made our way out to the main terminal. Jeremiah led me off to the side, where a large bald man with a blond goatee stood next to the wall. Upon seeing us, he strode forward to meet us halfway. “Lucy, this is Ethan my Chief of Security. He will take you to the hotel.”

  We shook hands, but his cursory attention made it clear he had other priorities. “Celeste is still here.” Ethan’s voice had a southern twang, light but noticeable. “She won't leave for another three hours.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Perfect. See to it that Ms. Delacourt here gets to the hotel.”

  “What about you?” I asked as he started to walk away.

  “I have to deal with the vultures.” To Ethan, he added, “Try not to be seen.”

  I watched him walk away toward the glass doors leading out. That’s it? I thought, confused. I’m being given over to the chauffeur, and secreted out of the airport? It occurred to me I should be happy to be out of his presence but, suddenly alone with another stranger in a strange country, I found I missed the stoic man.

  “Okay, let's go.”

  I followed Ethan silently, sneaking glances back toward my boss. As Jeremiah exited the glass doors I saw a commotion outside as several people rushed toward him. Flashes of cameras and the garbled tin of voices flowed to me as we exited farther down from the action, ignored by the crowd. “What’s that about?” I asked, struggling to keep up with Ethan’s long strides.

  “Paparazzi.” Ethan held the door open for me as we exited the terminal a ways beyond the throng. “His attendance at the gala this weekend is high profile enough to earn press coverage.”

  Gala? I got into the back of the large SUV waiting at the curb. Another man, who had been waiting behind the wheel, exited the vehicle so Ethan could take his place, and we pulled out. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked, looking through the rear window at the swarm of reporters.

  Ethan snorted. “This is nothing, and he did it mostly to divert attention so we could leave unmolested. He won't be far behind us.”

  Indeed, I saw him move through the crowd as a limo pulled up, and breathed a small sigh of relief. I could never do that, I thought, thankful in hindsight for the reprieve. The thought of all those cameras in my face, following me everywhere... I shuddered just thinking about it.

  A million questions ran through my head, but the man driving didn't seem the talkative type so I kept them to myself, instead enjoying my first real view of Paris. I had secured a promise from my parents back in high school that, when I graduated and got my bachelor’s degree, they would pay my way there. That wish had never materialized - their deaths my junior year of college had derailed my life, forcing me on a radically different path than I'd always imagined - but my love for the city remained. The glimpses of the Eiffel Tower through the buildings made me smile, some of the stress of the last couple days draining away.

  When we finally stopped and a valet opened the door for me, my jaw dropped as I stared in shock at the hotel. “We’re staying here?”

  I didn’t get an answer and, honestly, the question was rhetorical anyway. I stared up at the magnificent Paris Ritz, finding it incomprehensible that I would be sleeping there. Another Parisian establishment I’d only seen online and in magazines; pictures hadn’t done the structure justice. While not as big as I’d thought, it was as grand and stately as I’d always dreamed, and I itched to see the inside.

  A redhead in a trim pale dress suit made her way toward us, heels clacking against the stone ground. She seemed pleased to see Ethan, but paused when she saw me. The big driver gave her hand a kiss, a romantic gesture that seemed at odds with his gruff demeanor. “Celeste, this is Lucy Delacourt, Mr. Hamilton’s new personal assistant.”

  The confusion immediately cleared from the woman’s face, although she still seemed surprised by the news. “Pleased to meet you,” she said with a warm smile, extending her hand in greeting. “I’m Celeste Taylor, the head of Operations for Hamilton Industries.” Her handshake was firm and businesslike, her smile a welcome relief to the stoicism I’d seen so far. “It’s been a while since Remi last took a personal assistant.”

  Remi? “Yes, well, I’m new.” It was difficult to know how much I could talk about, so decided to keep it professional. “I was hired yesterday afternoon.”

  Celeste’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “Well, he certainly moved quickly this time.” Her gaze softened. “This must all be so strange to you.”

  This first bit of genuine sympathy almost made me cry. I wanted to thank her, but managed to refrain from throwing my arms around her shoulders, instead swallowing back my gratitude. “Yesterday I was a temp barely getting by. Now I’m, well.” I gestured to the hotel around me. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

  “Yes I imagine so.” She looked around the car. “Do you have any luggage with you?”

  “Uh...” I couldn’t figure out how to explain that bit of detail. Who flies across the Atlantic without bringing any clothes or luggage for the trip? Me apparently, but I didn’t know what to say without bringing up embarrassing details.

  Celeste cocked her head to the side at my uncomfortable silence, eyes narrowing. She took a step back, examining me from h
ead to toe, then nodded. “Ah, I see why,” she said with a knowing smile.

  I looked down at my clothing, not understanding her meaning. They were still clean, although rumpled a bit from the trip and my sleeping in the chair. “Why, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  This got a laugh from Celeste. “Oh, it’s not my opinion you should be worrying about,” she said, shaking her head and grinning. “If Remi doesn’t like something, he’ll do everything in his power to change it. He’s a steamroller, used to getting his own way in matters. You don’t have to say anything, I can already see it happened to you.” She motioned toward the door of the hotel. “Come inside, it’s chilly out here.”

  I followed her up the walkway while Ethan stayed out by the curb, fielding a call on his cellphone. “When did you meet Mr. Hamilton?” I asked.

  Celeste gave me an amused look at the use of the man’s formal title. “We went to school together years ago, although I moved out west almost immediately after graduation. Got a divorce, moved back to start anew, couldn’t find anything. Almost gave up hope, then Remi found me.” She shrugged. “I started out as a manager and then, when he restructured the entire company after his father died, I was given a choice: take the COO position or I was fired. Like I said,” she added, rolling her eyes at me, “a steamroller.”

  “Sounds familiar.” Hotel employees opened the doors and I stared in wonder around the entryway. “This place is even better than I imagined.”

  “Wait until you see the suites.” She glanced at her watch. “My plane doesn’t leave for almost three hours; want me to show you around?” When I grinned at her, she took my arm. “You have to see the pool first. Always takes my breath away.”

  The tour was quick but thorough, and left me a little dizzy. What did I do to deserve this? I wondered, staring at the over-the-top opulence. Why am I even here? Is this Fate’s compensation for the crappy last four years? Will it be taken away as quickly as my last life?

  “I need to get going. Even private planes have a schedule to keep.”

  I barely knew the woman, but felt sad to see her go. I’d found the last two days hectic and stressful, and Celeste’s presence, however brief, was a welcome balm. Extending my hand, I said, “Have a safe flight.”

  She took my hand in a steady grip, then leaned in close. “Look, be nice to Jeremiah okay? He can be a jerk, but he has a big heart for those he cares about or decides to protect.”

  Her words startled me. Be nice to him? “He’s my boss,” I said stiffly, not sure how to respond without sounding petulant. “I have to respect him.”

  She started to shake her head, paused to think for a moment, then nodded ruefully. “That’s close enough I guess.” Leaning close, Celeste added in a lower voice, “It’s been almost two years since he had a personal assistant; the last one, hmm, left on bad terms. As his assistant however you'll accompany him to functions, and serve as his escort. The press is used to these arrangements and should leave you alone, but be aware it’s inevitable you may get some attention.”

  Did he treat them all like me? It surprised me when the mention of previous assistants made me irritated. I suddenly remembered the swarm of paparazzi outside the airport, and went cold. Suddenly this is a very bad idea. Then again, when had I ever thought the whole situation anything but a strange trick of Fate?

  “Ah, speak of the Devil.”

  I turned to see the tall figure of Jeremiah enter the hotel. He had a small wrapped box under one arm, and stopped privately to speak with Ethan. They had a similar vibe I found interesting, and I mentioned it to Celeste.

  “Well they were both in the military together, maybe it's that.”

  “Military?” I never would have pegged him to be a soldier. It seemed I had a lot to learn about the man who now employed me.

  Celeste nodded. “They were both Army Rangers until Remi's dad died and left him in charge of the family business. Nasty business, that. I came in right afterwards and helped field the fallout.”

  I wanted to ask more, but both men made their way toward us and the moment was lost. Celeste smiled and stepped forward, taking Jeremiah's outstretched hand. “Looks like I'm no longer needed for this little soirée tonight.”

  Jeremiah raised Celeste's hand for a brief kiss before letting go, but beside him I saw Ethan flinch at the gesture. The redhead stepped back then looked up at the tall bald man beside her. “Ready to go, babe?”

  I blinked, surprised first by her words then again as I saw Ethan’s stolid face soften into a smile. Celeste gave me a wave and they walked off, the big man's hand at the small of the COO’s back. Only then did I notice the gold band on his left hand.

  “They’ve been married almost a year now.” At my startled glance, Jeremiah quirked an eyebrow. “Your question was written all over your face.”

  I ducked my head at his sardonic tone, clearing my throat. “What now?” I asked, slipping one last glance at the retreating couple. The stress returned as I had no idea what he wanted.

  “Celeste showed you around the hotel?”

  “A bit, yes.” I couldn’t stop the smile that lit my face. “It’s absolutely incredible, pictures never did it justice.”

  He gave an amused chuckle. “Wait until you see the rooms.”

  3

  I sank into the warm water, gripping the sides of the huge porcelain bathtub so I wouldn't slide under the surface. Foaming hills of bubbles tickled my nose as I settled into a comfortable position, and I grinned, blowing them so they danced in little puffs through the air. The deep tub was surprisingly comfortable, and I settled in, breathing a sigh of relief and fiddling with the water knobs with my toes.

  Jeremiah had sent me upstairs to the room, saying he had to take care of a few things before joining me. I had followed the hotel worker who showed me to my room, and when he’d opened the doors the sight rendered me speechless. The interior of the suite was the most over-the-top, gaudy place I had ever seen, with its gilded mirrors and paintings, white panels trimmed with gold, crystal chandeliers and lamps, Rococo moldings and filigree along each corner and open panel. Tapestries lined the walls, and every inch of the room screamed Look at me, I’m expensive, hitting you over the head with its overstated elegance and extravagant, lurid design.

  I absolutely adored it.

  While the hotel host had been showing me around, I’d barely been listening, too busy exploring on my own. The suite included several sitting rooms besides the bedroom with furniture that looked expensive but very uncomfortable. Every amenity I could think of, and several I’d never have considered, was provided free of charge. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I saw the bathroom with its tall ceilings and mirrors, marble tabletops and floors, and a tub almost as big as a Jacuzzi sitting in the middle. My host only had time to point out the closet of linens and robes before I shooed him out as politely as possible and drew myself a bubble bath. I chose a Lavender scent from the bath oils before stripping out of my work clothes, grabbing a robe and locking the door.

  I allowed myself to enjoy the warmth and mellow scent of the water for a while before setting about with actual bathing. Using my toes to fiddle with the hot water knob kept the bath water warm as I thoroughly scrubbed my skin. I took my time but eventually my wrinkled hands convinced me to leave the bath, the bubbles now only a white film atop the water. Slipping into the robe and wrapping my hair in a towel, I poked around the countertops and drawers to see what other treasures lay hidden in the bathroom.

  Three sharps raps against the locked door made me jump in surprise. “I’d like to see you out here.” Jeremiah’s deep voice carried through the thick wooden door, his words a command that was expected to be obeyed.

  I froze, the tension I’d managed to wash away earlier now back with a vengeance. A quick glance around the ornate room made me realize with dawning horror that I had no clothes besides the robe and towel; I’d left them on the chair in the bedroom, now occupied by my boss.

  Swal
lowing, I took a look at myself in the mirror. My face was scrubbed of all make-up, shiny and clean but naked without my usual mask. Underneath the towel wrapped haphazardly around my head, my hair was a mess and still too wet to brush.

  I can't let him see me like this; he’ll kick me out of this hotel!

  I hastily pulled the towel off my head, and called out, “Just a minute” so he wouldn't think I was ignoring him. Why do you care what he thinks, a rational side of my brain tried to ask as I fumbled with my wet hair and smoothed out eyebrows that desperately needed a brow pencil. Don’t you want to stay away from him, anyway?

  Maybe, but I'd at least like to look decent when I'm walking away.

  Tousling my longish hair into some semblance of order and straightening my robe, making sure the belt was tied snug, I walked over to the door. Pausing for a moment, I gave myself one last look in the mirror - seriously, you're never this vain! - before unlocking the door and striding out.