BILLIONAIRE: Protected (A Dark Billionaire Romance) (3 page)

              He flipped through papers as I beamed at him. “Really?” I asked.

              Nodding, he replied, “Really. It's superb, and your model will work much better, I think. Not to mention, having someone like you behind the project will only make it better. I have full confidence in your abilities.” He chewed on his inner cheek and looked up at me with an amused smile. “You're right, your marketing team is crap.”

              I blushed and looked away, murmuring, “I know. I wish they could do better. I'm really sorry. I promise if you invest I—”

              “If?” he interjected. “I already have a check written, Miss Barr. There is no question whether or not I'm investing. I couldn't invest at the meeting because I didn't have my checkbook on me and I don't like doing deals without having the money ready.”

              I was sipping my wine, but choked on it slightly out of surprise. He patted me on the back as I regained my composure. “Y-you already decided to invest?” I asked, incredulous. My performance at the initial meeting had not been worthy of an investor. I was grateful, but unsure how he determined that my presentation was worth a partnership.

              Liam nodded and replied, airily, “There was just something about you. I knew I had to be your partner.” He drank the rest of his glass of wine and narrowed his eyes. “Why would you think that I wouldn't invest?”

              I chewed on my lip and muttered, “Well the presentation wasn't all that great. Let's be honest, Mr. Manning.”

              He laughed and said, “Please,
never
call me Mr. Manning. Good God, you have no idea how much I hate that.” He ran a hand through his thick, sun-kissed hair and added, “You just had a way about you that screamed 'hard worker,' you know? Sometimes it's the passion of the person behind an idea that's the most important thing.” His blue eyes bore into my own and I felt my cheeks become hot. “I think that is the case with you, Miss Barr.”

              “I-it's Ally,” I murmured, looking away from his gaze. “O-or Aaliyah.”

              “I'll go with Ally,” he said. He stood and held out his hand. “More wine?”

              I nodded and handed him my glass. The twinkle in his eye told me that perhaps Patrick had been right. It was more than just business.

*****

                                         
Chapter 3

Liam and I had been through the content of the manila folder at least three times and we were quickly approaching our second bottle of wine. Usually I would object to such an intimate business meeting, but usually the investors with whom I spoke were nowhere near as young and handsome as Liam was. The alcohol was beginning to make me a little giggly and I was trying my best not to make a pass at him or anything that may result in a misunderstanding between business partners. Nevertheless, the way that he looked at me told me that he was just as interested in me as I was in him.

              “I haven't worked with many women,” he admitted. His face was becoming redder and redder as he grew more intoxicated, but he still took another sip of wine. “Just hasn’t had the opportunity.”

              “Does your girlfriend disapprove?”  I blurted. I immediately regretted what I said, because I knew that I was overstepping boundaries. However, I could easily argue that he had overstepped boundaries by getting me drunk.

              He chuckled and shook his head. “Girlfriend? What rubbish have the tabloids made up now? I don't have a girlfriend.”

              I blushed and hoped that the warmth from the wine would disguise my embarrassment. In a desperate attempt to escape the awkward situation, I seized the manila folder and swallowed nervously, flipping through the pages that we had already been through a number of times throughout the evening.

              “So, er, what about
this
graphic? Now that I look at it again it isn't so bad,” I murmured, pointing out a logo of a homeless man eating a freshly made cake. It
was
bad, but I was looking for any reason not to mess up the deal that we had made. Making my business partner uncomfortable was not my goal.

              Liam laughed and refilled his glass. “You don't have to be nervous, Ally. I think we've discussed enough business for the evening. The wine has clearly gotten to your head if that logo is starting to look even remotely acceptable,” he said. “So tell me about yourself. Not how you'd portray yourself in a cover letter, either. I want to learn more about the
real
you.” I felt myself melt as he offered me a crooked smile.

             
The real me?
I really had no idea where to begin. My past was long and strange.

There was a lot of room for judgment when it came to everything that I had been through and the person that it made me. I usually kept those kinds of things to myself, considering nobody needed to know about me to respect me as the ambitious businesswoman that I turned into, but something about Liam seemed different. He seemed genuinely interested. Perhaps it was the wine, but I felt compelled to let my guard down even if it scared the hell out of me.

              I drank a rather large portion of wine from my glass in order to prepare myself to release all of the emotions that had been sitting in the pit of my stomach for so many years. I took a deep breath and looked into his patient, blue eyes. He simply waited for me to muster up the courage to tell him. He did not press me. He only waited. Something about that fact was comforting.

              “Well, I grew up in a small town in Idaho. You've never heard of it so there's no reason to tell you the name,” I started. I cleared my throat and averted my gaze to the plain white wall behind him. For some reason, it made it easier to talk. “Anyway, I come from a place that doesn't really drive women to do much with themselves other than become housewives or schoolteachers if they're smart enough to go to college. There are a lot of farms. That kind of a place, you know? My mother died when I was twelve and my dad was an alcoholic. My religion helped me get through it all a bit, but it was still tough. I ended up maybe sleeping around more than I should have. We all make mistakes, you know? I haven't been down that road in a long, long time. Regardless, I guess the scars are still there a bit. I'm pretty okay most of the time, but I still won't even drive because the last time I did, I was driving my drunk dad back to his house and he tried taking the wheel from me. It ended up in the hospital. This scar is from the stitches.” I pulled my collar to show him the scar on my shoulder. It was strange how natural it felt to tell him everything. Even my therapist had not heard as much as I had just told him. “Anyway, that's my story. Um, I got sick of it, went to college, moved to New York, and here I am. That's about it. Judge me as you will.”

              I gulped the last of my glass of wine as I prepared for him to tell me how much less attractive and professional I seemed from my background. However, he did not scold me with even a word of negativity. He simply looked at me, sadness in his eyes, and held out his arms to give me a hug.

Surprised by the gesture, I clutched to my empty glass and allowed him to embrace me. It felt like the safest place that I had been in my entire life.

              “I am so sorry for what you went through,” he murmured, rubbing my back with his fingertips. He pulled away and looked me in the eyes, his hands still lightly touching my upper arms. “Listen, I've been to hell and back too. I never knew my father. My mother was a drug addict. There are a lot of things that I can't tell you yet, but I feel so connected to you. I hope you're the woman—er, business partner—that breaks my shell. I really do.”

              I frowned, wondering why he was unable to open up to me to the extent that I had opened up to him. Something about it felt unfair, but I knew that I had to try to be understanding. We were only business partners and I could hardly expect him to tell me the things that he would tell a significant other. I chewed on my lower lip as I pondered.

              He cleared his throat and stood. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and muttered, “Listen, it's getting late. I should probably get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. If you want to crash on my sofa, feel free. Nothing weird...you just shouldn't walk home in your condition is all... especially this late at night in New York.”

              “Do you have a err...blanket? I don't have anything to wear tomorrow—”

              “I'll buy you something in the morning before we start branding,” he replied, quickly. “I'll show you where I keep the blankets. You can have your pick. I just don't want you trying to walk home.”

              I almost suggested that he called a cab, but I realized that I would be ruining my only chance to spend more time alone with him. With a nod, I stood and he led me down the single short hallway where there was a bathroom to the left and his bedroom at the end. To the right was a wooden closet door, which he opened with a smile. I peered inside and saw an array of expensive fabrics.

              “Is that real velvet?” I asked, gesturing a luxurious red duvet.

              He smiled and nodded. “Is that what you'd like?”

              “Yes,” I answered, shyly. “I haven't felt real velvet in—well... ever.”

                                                                                    *****

              He pulled the folded blanket out of the linen closet and handed it to me. “Glad I can give you your first time.” He winked at me and my face flushed. I looked to the floor, nervously. Without acknowledging his flirtatiousness, I took the blanket to the living room and lay down on the sofa. I could hardly escape my own embarrassment.

              Suddenly, I heard his footsteps draw near and my heart raced in my chest. I had no idea what could happen to my career if anything were to happen between the two of us. I could only imagine the office rumors. Before I could even pretend to be asleep, he hovered over me.

              “Just wanted to tell you goodnight,” he murmured, leaning down to look at me. I could hear my heart beating faster and faster as his face was only inches above mine. He got closer, his lips only centimeters from my face, and then I turned my head.

              To further my embarrassment, I quickly discovered that Liam had simply been attempting to kiss my cheek, which was not so strange in his culture. However, when I turned my head, his lips landed on mine instead of the much more innocent spot that he had intended. For some reason, he did not pull away, though. His lips lingered on mine and I could not bring myself to stop it. A tingling sensation entered me through his soft mouth and ran all the way down to my toes. It seemed as though it lasted forever despite it lasting only but a moment.

              He cleared his throat and got to his feet, awkwardly. “Goodnight,” he muttered, and hastily walked to his bedroom.

              Both confused and ecstatic, I touched my fingertips to my lips.

*****

The scent of bacon accompanied with the clunking of metal pots and pans woke me. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes and felt my makeup smear all over my balled fists. Cursing under my breath, I used a little extra force to open my eyes, as the mascara had caused my lashes to stick together. With a yawn, I scratched the back of my head and peered into the kitchen from my place on the sofa.

              Liam stood in the kitchen, shirtless, exposing his rippling muscles. I chewed on my lip as I took a mental snapshot of his godlike form and I began to recollect all of my memories from the night before. Remembering the feeling of his lips against mine, I blushed. Everything felt like a dream.

              “Morning,” I grumbled, wearily. “Nice apron.”

              He turned on his heel, a spatula in one hand, and looked at me in an alarmed manner. He was adorned in pajama bottoms and a plain white apron; his hair was messy and there were bags underneath his cerulean eyes, but to me, he looked just as attractive as usual.

              “You're awake,” he said, seemingly surprised. “Good morning, good morning. I'm making bacon for us. Well, you probably smelled that... do you need me to buy you clothes this morning like we discussed? If you'd like a shower—”

              I looked at the contemporary clock mounted on the wall and interjected, “We don't even need to be at the office for another three hours. Why are you up so early?”

              “Bit of an early bird,” he replied, turning and flipping the bacon in the pan. It sizzled loudly and he yelled over the sound. “Listen, I think we need to talk about everything that happened last night. I was knackered and—”

              “And it meant nothing to you,” I finished with a frown. I knew better than to show any interest in a business partner and I certainly knew better than to open up regarding my past. The alcohol had compromised my cognitive abilities.

              “No, no, no! Nothing like that!” he said. Relief enveloped me like the embrace that he had given me the night before. I was not sure that I could handle having frivolous drama in my relationship with my business partner. “I just think we should lay some ground rules.”

              Furrowing my brow, I wondered what he was trying to say. I sat upright and considered asking what he meant, but I lost my courage and asked him if I could use the washroom instead.

              “Yeah, it's in the hall to the—”

              “I know where it is,” I snapped, getting to my feet and walking down the small corridor. I opened the bathroom door and locked it behind me. After using the restroom, I braved looking in the mirror at the damage that the previous night had had on my makeup. Black and metallic eye makeup was smeared across my face and my lipstick had stained most of the skin around my mouth. Cringing at my appearance, I wadded up some toilet paper and wet it with tap water. It was certainly not the most ideal way to remove makeup. Scrubbing as hard as I could, I began to realize that my efforts were futile. No matter how much I scrubbed, I simply was making my face red and leaving a wet, black mess all over my skin. The mirror never lied, and the mirror was telling me that I looked terrible.

              “Crap,” I muttered under my breath, opening the medicine cabinet and searching frantically for a cotton ball or something more useful than toilet paper. The closest thing to a cotton ball that I could find was a box of cotton swabs. I reached for it, but was interrupted, to my misfortune.

              Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door and out of surprise; I jumped, knocking the box to the ground. Looking at the door nervously, I started collecting them, trying to put them back in the container, but Liam was persistent.

              “You okay in there? Breakfast is ready,” he yelled through the wooden door. He knocked again and the doorknob rattled. “Ally, are you all right?”

              “Yeah, one minute!” I called back, hurriedly trying to put the cotton swabs back. As I was bent over, I knocked over the ceramic soap dispenser on the sink and it shattered into hundreds of pieces all over the floor. “Damn it!”

              “Whoa, that didn't sound good. Can I come in?” Liam asked.

              “Just...
one
more minute!” I yelled through the door. “I'll be right out! Go ahead and eat!” I really did not think that I could embarrass myself in front of him any more than I already had, but I stood corrected. He did not leave as I expected; he merely stood in front of the door, waiting for me to emerge. I cursed under my breath once more and started picking up the pieces to put in the trash, only to slip on the liquid soap and land on my rear with a loud thud.

I screamed both out of surprise and pain, as one of the shards had left a long gash in my calf. I really was not having very good luck.

              “Whoa! Hold on, I'll be right there!” I heard him yell. I heard his feet thumping down the short hallway and the opening and closing of a drawer, but I was more concerned about the mess he was about to see.

              The doorknob rattled and I heard the clicking sound of it being unlocked. The dull pain in my leg was not enough to leave me careless about my appearance, and I quickly began rubbing my face in one last, desperate measure to look more presentable. The door opened and I looked up at him from my place on the floor, a weak smile on my face. It was hard to pretend that I was fine when I had made such a mess.

              “Goodness, you look horrible,” he murmured, coming to my aid. I frowned and he corrected himself. “I mean—not horrible. I mean—you look hurt. Are you okay? Oh that doesn't look very good... Let me wrap that...” He went to the already-open medicine cabinet and started shuffling through the dozens of items. After pushing an electric razor aside, he found a box of butterfly bandages and pulled it out of the cabinet. He turned and squatted to my level as he unwrapped one of the bandages. He stuck it to my calf, offering me a concerned look.

              “Sorry about the mess,” I muttered, averting my gaze to the floor. “Thanks for the band-aid.”

              He chuckled. “No worries. The cleaning lady will take care of it. Are you okay? That was quite a slice there.”

              “Yeah, I'm fine,” I replied. “I think I could use a shower, though.”

              “Yeah, okay,” he said, his face flushing. He scratched the back of his head and stood. “Well, er, there's a towel there on the rack...I'll—I'll be in the kitchen, I suppose.” In a nervous, nearly boyish manner, he shuffled his feet towards the door, stepping over the broken shards.

              Something about his anxiousness was charming, and I felt compelled to ask him something that was entirely inappropriate. I opened my mouth and made a noise, but stopped myself from saying anything that I should not have. Unfortunately, the noise from my throat was enough to get his attention.

              “Did you say something?” he asked, turning on his heel.

              I stammered again, but I could not filter myself much longer. “Wh-why don't you join me?” I asked. As soon as the words fell from my lips, I felt regret. I knew that he was going to tell me how inappropriate it was and that everything that had happened the night before was simply a mistake fueled by alcohol. However, he had a soft smile on his lips and part of me felt like there was still hope. My stomach turned as I waited for his answer.

              “Well, I guess I can't really turn that down, can I?” he replied with a chuckle. “You don't waste time, eh?”

              Blushing, I removed my skirt and coolly answered, “You're the one that asked me to stay the night after a
business meeting.
”

              “That's true,” he said. “Those panties are...something else.” He cleared his throat and his face became a shade of scarlet.

              Feeling a little bit more confident, I smirked and said, “You like them?” I removed my blazer and blouse. “What about my bra? Is this to your standards?” It had been a long time since I had felt nervous around a man, but Liam made my stomach twist into what felt like a million knots. It was something like a schoolgirl crush and I could not really tell whether I liked the feeling or not. Despite my confusion, stopping me hardly seemed possible. I was beginning to act on impulse, which was not something I did often anymore, but it felt
good
.

              “I-i-it's certainly nice too,” he stammered. “Wow, you're...beautiful.”

              I blushed, as I had not had a man tell me that I was beautiful in quite some time. My eyes were drawn to his groin, which was sporting a rather impressive bulge. The tip of his manhood slightly peeked out from the opening in his pajama pants and I felt myself growing more aroused.

              “You really aren't lacking where it counts,” I murmured, unhooking my bra. “You wanna turn on the water?”

              He nodded hurriedly, and shakily turned the knob of the shower. Letting my brassiere fall to the floor, I stood before him, exposing all but my womanhood, and it was apparent that he could not wait much longer. It had been nearly eight years since I had been so sexually charged. The moistness between my legs alerted me that I could not wait much longer either.

              “Are you going to just stand there or what?” I asked, gesturing his plaid pajama pants

Luckily, he had taken off the apron and spared himself the extra work. Frustrated as he continued standing there, clueless, I approached him and ran a hand down his chest, running my fingers along his waistband. He chewed on his lip, sensuously, and I tugged on the elastic, urging him to undress.

              Instead of taking his own pants off, he caught me off guard and hooked one of his strong fingers around my thong. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, kissing from the corner of my mouth to my neck and all the way down to my full breasts. A gasp fell from my lips as he sucked on my flesh and his hands explored my body. Tossing my head back in ecstasy, I ran my hands through his thick hair. His hand embraced the breast that his face was not buried in, only momentarily, before dancing down my body towards my lowers. I bit my lip, looking down at him as his thumb rubbed me slowly through my red silk panties.

              “Oh, Liam,” I moaned lightly, encouraging him not to stop. It was pleasantly surprising that he had been able to find my pleasure spot as quickly as he did.

              He pulled away to look in my eyes, his cerulean irises boring into my own emeralds. Judging by the smirk on his face, he was growing more confident. Biting my lip, I found myself becoming wetter between my legs. Confidence was something that I found extremely sexy.

              “You like that, do you?” he murmured, rubbing me a little slower, teasing me. “Can't have you finishing
too
early…” He pulled his thumb away and I whimpered, but secretly, I loved every minute of his game. It was refreshing in comparison to the fast-paced, mundane manner in which most men chose to make love. He reached into the shower and felt the water before nodding and slowly pulling off his pajama pants. I reached out to stroke him, but he stepped over my hand into the shower and pulled the glass door closed. An annoyed scoff emitted from my throat, yet his indecisiveness only fueled my libido even more. Hastily, I tore off my panties and opened the glass door, stepping into the shower behind him.              The shower itself was unlike anything that I had ever experienced. The shower head was located at the top and misted us like a warm, April rain. The mosaic tiles were earthy shades of grey and green. It almost felt like being in the rainforest and I knew it would only make the experience all the better.

              “Hello there,” he welcomed me, softly. He did not turn around to face me, but for some reason, it made everything more intimate and mysterious.

              I did not answer him, but let my hands dance upon his skin, my eyes fixed at the contrast between his tan complexion and my paleness. He shivered as my hands traveled from his biceps to his lateral muscles and I touched his waist, sensuously. The skin near his groin was covered in goose-bumps and he flinched at my touch, anticipating my hand. I stopped for a moment to tease him, running my hand back up his spine. He whimpered and I slowly moved my hand back down to his lowers, once more, finally caressing his erect member.

              “Is that what you wanted?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and a low groan of pleasure fell from his lips. I stroked him softly, using the shower water as natural lubricant, running my thumb along the head of his manhood. Using my hand for scale, I realized how massive he truly was and my loins ached. He moaned and pressed his hands against the shower walls in an effort to stabilize himself. I wrapped both arms around his waist, cradling his testicles with one hand and stroking him rapidly with the other. As I pressed my lips against his neck, my smeared, day-old lipstick stained his flesh. I lightly sunk my teeth into his skin and he let out a loud moan.

              “I-I need you,” he breathed. “Ally, p-please.”

              I smirked and released him from my fingers, stepping back so he could turn around, an expectant look written on my face. He turned and swallowed nervously before his eyes explored my exposed form. Hungrily, he seized my waist and pulled me close to him, crashing his lips into mine. I groaned in ecstasy as I felt his manhood rub against my inner thighs and our tongues intertwined. The teasing was beginning to become painful. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything before. I pulled away and looked him in the eyes.