Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (53 page)

“On
a specific employee? I’m sorry Mr. King, but I can’t do that,” she said,
her voice shaking.

“Its
her schedule. You can and you will do it. Her name is Deborah and she’s in
Men’s.”

“Yes—yes
Mr. King, one moment. I found her. Deborah Hansen. It looks like she’s a new
tailor in the men’s department. I only have this week’s schedule but it looks
like she works days. Would you like me to—”

“That’s
enough, Joan. Thank you,” I said as I hung up.

Stewart
pulled the car up to the stone steps of the large gothic mansion I called my
home. Stepping out of the car, the doors now working for me too, I glimpsed the
large fountain at the center of the circular driveway, another of my mother’s
finds.

Crossing
behind the car, I ignored the damage knowing the car would be replaced. The
oval fountain, with its three jets of water quietly shooting up into the air,
caused cascading streams. Pulling a coin out of my pocket, I tossed it into the
fountain as my mother taught me to do as a child. It was a habit I was unable
to break, no matter how much it tugged at my heart. In all these years the only
thing missing from the ritual she taught me was the wish. Wishes stopped when I
was eight.

Turning
back to the building, I wondered if it always looked so cold. The grey stone of
the exterior made the peaks of the turrets look sharper as it stood before the
bright sun in the sky.

Living
in the mansion my entire life, it surprised me when I noticed things like that.
Stewart and I were the home’s only resident unless one counted the small team
of people who maintained the property.

A
long time ago the mansion was home to parties and gatherings, but I stopped all
of that. I didn’t need people kissing my ass because they wanted to get into my
wallet. I certainly wasn’t going to entertain them for fun. Most women jumped
at the chance to visit King Manor and spend the night in my bed. I didn’t need
the ruse of a party to get them here.

Entering
the large hall, the sound of my shoes echoed down the long corridors. I walked
straight to the back of the house to my study, my favorite place to relax. It
was my hideaway and the only part of the house I changed from when my parents
lived there.

Lining
two adjacent walls were built-in bookcases with my vast collection of both
fiction and non-fiction. They were my pleasure in life. I often found myself
enjoying the company of characters in a book more than the people I had
to associate with in real life.

Along
the next wall was a long contemporary bar made of a black and brown
granite and wood. As I walked to the bar to pour myself two fingers of scotch,
I unbuttoned and removed my suit jacket then tossed it onto the sleek black
leather desk chair in the middle of the room next to my desk.

The
back wall of the study was made entirely of glass and faced the valley. The
sloping hills were dotted with deep green trees and dried vegetation from the
recent drought. The quiet view was comforting to me and I often sat on the
flagstone patio for some fresh air as I gathered my thoughts.

Picking
up the book I was reading from a glass side table, I went outside with my drink
and thought about Deborah Hansen. I loved how her black hair framed her pretty
full face, hitting just below her jaw line. Or how her smile made me think the
world was a better place just because she was in it.

I
tried pushing her out of my mind, but it was useless. Not only did I find her
beautiful, but I could tell she was smart and funny too. It was a dangerous
combination for a woman as far as I was concerned. And it was one I was unable
to resist.

Reaching
for the laptop I kept on the patio, I checked my schedule for the next day.
After sending a quick email I changed a meeting so I would have the morning
free. I knew Deborah worked tomorrow and I hoped the store would be empty.

It
felt such a struggle. I normally preferred my quiet, lonely existence. That was
the only reason I left her without getting to know more. I desperately wanted
to be alone, to continue my private, safe, secluded existence, but I needed to
know the short curvy tailor even more.

Chapter Five

Deborah

As
I arrived at work the next morning, I vowed that no matter who was there I was
going to make sure I was either in tailoring or in suits. Mr. Sexy had to come
back and I needed to make sure I wouldn’t miss him.

Entering
the men’s department, my black Mary Jane pumps clicked against the marble
floor. I wore my favorite wine colored v-neck silk blouse with a black circle
skirt I convinced myself made my hips look smaller.

“I
see you’re dressed for Mr. Sexy today,” Dianna took a step back and look
at me up and down as she fanned herself with her hand.

“Thanks,”
I said laughing. “I’m going to be in suits today if that’s ok.”

“Sure,
but you might have to fight Sara for it.”

With
an exaggerated look, Dianna turned her eyes towards suits and I followed her
gaze. Prepping the register for the day stood a tall, beautiful woman with hair
the color of honey. She looked to be in her early twenties with her sun
bleached highlights and athletic build. A lace cami peeked out of her snug suit
jacket. It was obvious from her jiggle, she didn’t bother to wear a bra.

Give
her a chance, don’t hate her yet,
I thought
.
As she stepped out from behind the register, my eyes flew to
her long and lean legs sticking out from her too short skirt.

“You’ve
got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

“Just
wait until you see her in action,” Dianna said.

“Can’t
you do anything about it? You’re the manager.”

“She’s
our highest earner. They don’t care what she wears or how much she flirts,
she’s making the store a lot of money.”

I
sighed and reminded myself that maybe she wasn’t so bad. Maybe despite her
leaving the department a mess and dressing like a slut, she was nice.

“Yeah,
because that’s how the world works,” I muttered sarcastically to myself.

“Oh
it looks like she’s already found her first victim,” Dianna said as she
walked away.

I
looked back towards suits and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Mr. Sexy in
the flesh! Well in a suit, but underneath…
Get a grip Deborah!

My
eyes caressed his broad shoulders down the taper of his back until they stopped
at a small hand on his bicep.
Oh hell no!
As I quickly made my way over,
my shoes clicking ‘that bitch’ with each step, I could hear Sara’s soft voice
and it made me even angrier.

“No,
I’m sure there isn’t a Deborah Hansen here. But I can help you with whatever
you want,” she purred.

“Don’t
touch me,” Mr. Sexy growled.

Even
though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell by how quickly she stepped back
that he meant it.

“The
tailor from yesterday. Get. Her. Now,” he said as if he thought she didn’t
understand him.

In
shock to hear that he was looking for me, I couldn’t speak. Quickly replaying
yesterday in my head, I wondered if I did something to make him so stern.
Coming up from behind him, I softly reached up and touched Mr. Sexy on his back
between his shoulder blades. He turned, his eyes narrowed and his face stern
until he recognized me and flashed a smile.

“Just
who I’ve been looking for,” he said while his eyes never left mine.

Sara
walked away looking briefly defeated and annoyed until another male customer
entered the department. She pounced on him like a lion after a gazelle. Happy
Sara found someone to busy herself with, I focused my attention on Mr. Sexy.

“You
were looking for me?” I asked.

“Yes.
I need a new suit and after seeing you handle them yesterday, I knew you were
the girl for me.”

He
winked as he finished speaking and I grinned back embarrassed that he brought
up my dropping the pants. Was he teasing or flirting? I needed to get a grip,
he was probably just being nice.

“Sure,
right this way,” I finally replied, my voice shaking.

Leading
him to the suits, my legs felt like jelly. I couldn’t believe this man made me
so nervous. As I took a deep breath, I narrowed my eyes on the suits and
convinced myself he was anyone other than Mr. Sexy.

“Is
there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“How
about this one?” He asked as he pulled out my favorite—a two-button navy
Tom Ford suit with light blue pin-striping. I admired the tailoring of Tom
Ford’s suits, he definitely knew how to dress a man to look sexy, strong, and
elegant at the same time.

“I
can tell you that you’d look great in it,” I said, immediately stunned by
the words that flew out of my mouth.

“I
think I’d look better with you beside me.”

My
heart did flips in my chest and I paused to catch my breath. I couldn’t believe
it!
He is flirting with me!
I carried the suit as we headed towards the
fitting area and felt his fingers briefly touch the small of my back, sending a
heat throughout my body that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

As
I waited for him to change into the suit, I quickly gave myself the once over
in the mirror. Pinching my cheeks, I wished I wasn’t so pale but there was nothing
I could do about that now. Using a couple of bobby pins, I took the front of my
hair and twisted it around into a quick side braid and pinned it away from my
face. I needed to get precise measurements for his suit, I didn’t need my hair
falling in my face as I did it.

Stepping
out of the dressing room, Mr. Sexy already looked perfect. That suit was made
for him. His shoulders filled the jacket, making a perfect line across his
back. I could already see I’d have to let out the sleeves a little for his large
biceps. As I evaluated the suit from a distance, he spotted me. I quickly bit
my lip to stop myself from saying anything stupid and I motioned for him to
join me at the three-way mirror.

I
pulled up a small step stool to check and adjust the shoulders. Smoothing the
material over his back, I slowed my hand down enjoying the feel of his body
underneath and imagining what it looked and felt like without his clothing.

Accidentally
letting out a long lust filled sigh, I looked up at the mirror and saw Mr. Sexy
looking back at me. His eyes looked more green than hazel in this light. As I
met his gaze, I suddenly felt insecure, like he was undressing me with his
eyes, not the other way around. Heat spread over my face and embarrassed, I
looked away and stepped back. Forgetting I was on the stool I stumbled and
reached out to him to keep from falling.

“Didn’t
realize tailor was such a dangerous position,” he said.

“Oh
you wouldn’t believe the dangerous positions I can get myself into.”

His
laughter was throaty and deep which made me want him more. My pulse beat loudly
in my ears as I marked the sleeves making my way in front of him. Slipping my
hand into the front of the buttoned jacket to make sure the jacket had enough
space when buttoned, I felt the heat of his body through the dress shirt.

I
didn’t know what was going on with me, but Mr. Sexy made me want to do things
that were far from professional. Opening my hand, I slid my palm over his snug
buttoned shirt hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Deborah,”
he said and I jerked my hand away, “might be easier if you unbuttoned the
jacket.”

Nodding,
stunned over what was happening, I unbuttoned the single thick plastic button
he used to close the jacket. I breathed him in deeply, his scent made me think
of an herb garden, fresh and clean but with a hint of spice. Before I could
muster my courage again, he took my hand and placed it on his chest.

Ignoring
his intense gaze, my hand traveled up the smooth fabric of his shirt and
towards his shoulder. The heat of his skin came through the material and as my
hand slid down over the flexed muscle of his pecs, it was even easier to
imagine him without the shirt. Moving my hand down further I explored the hard
terrain of his abs until Sara’s high pitched giggle brought me back to reality.

The
last thing I wanted was for someone to catch me feeling up a customer. Even if
I was pretty sure no one would blame me once they saw Mr. Sexy.

“I—I’m
sorry about that,” I stammered as I looked away and stepped back from him.

“Don’t
be, I enjoyed that,” he said with that same crooked smile he gave me the
day before.

Out
of nervous habit I reached up to push my hair out of my eyes, but found it
still secured in place. It was official, while he was Mr. Sexy, I was Miss
Idiot. I really needed to get a hold of myself. Normally I kept my cool around
gorgeous men, was I that out of practice?

“I’ll
take care of your inseam now.”

“Deborah…”
He breathed my name and I gulped at the air as my heart beat even faster.

I
looked up into his eyes again, the flecks of green flashed from the store
lights. My throat felt dry, like every ounce of fluid now came out of the palms
of my hands which trembled by my sides. I really needed to get a grip of myself
and calm down.

“Yes?”
I said, once again using the only word I could say.

“Why
did you change your hair? It was already beautiful before.”

Closing
the distance between us, he gently began sliding the bobby pins from my hair,
loosening my braid. As my hair fell and brushed my cheek, I breathed in his
scent again and enjoyed the heat coming off his body. I couldn’t tear my eyes
away from his if my life depended on it. Entranced, I didn’t even realize his
lips drew closer to mine.

His
soft yet firm lips made my head swim. I parted my lips, waiting for more,
wanting more, when the gentle ding of the overhead speaker sounded.

“Oh!”
I stepped back from him suddenly aware of where we were as my legs felt like
jelly. Heat creeped across my cheeks again as he gave me that knowing grin.
“Your inseam. I have to measure your inseam,” I whispered.
Shit!
What’s wrong with me?

“Say
my name,” he commanded.

My
brow wrinkled. There was no way I was going to call him Mr. Sexy to his face.
He must have meant his real name and I’d remember if he gave it to me.

“Mr…”
Sexy
, I thought. “I don’t think you told me what your name
is.”

“You
really don’t recognize me?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Should
I?”

A
hearty laugh escaped his throat and his eyes seemed to soften even more.
“No, its actually a relief. I’m pretty well known in Canyon Cove. Wealthy
businessman and all that.”

I
shrugged. I really could care less. Mr. Sexy would still be Mr. Sexy even if he
didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Besides, he was in Hargrove’s buying
an expensive suit. What else could he be besides a wealthy businessman?

“I
guess I don’t keep on top of that kind of stuff. Its never really interested
me,” I said as I pinned my hair back again and grabbed my measuring tape.

“Its
Will.”

“What
will?” I asked as I knelt in front of him, trying to get my mind back on
my job.

“My
name,” he said then laughed. “It’s Will. Call me Will.”

Embarrassed,
I only nodded. I couldn’t believe how much of an affect this man, Mr. Sexy Will
was having over me. Happy to not stand on my jelly legs anymore, I slowly
brought the tape up his inseam to his crotch.

The
pants had a flat front and were a touch too tight, enough that I could see the
outline of his…
Wait, that’s an erection!
Doug had been the last man I
had been with over two years ago, but I knew a hard-on when I saw it. Was Will
teasing me?

Slowly
letting my eyes travel up his body, they met with his. The playful twinkle in
his eye combined with his knowing smile were enough to tell me he meant for me
to see it.

I
didn’t say anything, just made notes of the length of the pants and marked the
cuffs where they needed to be hemmed. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It
was right there! And my eyes kept moving back up to the front of his pants.

Thinking
about how he let me touch his chest and later kissed me, I realized I might
never get a second chance at this. My pulse beat loudly, rhythmically ‘no
regrets, no regrets’. Pulling the measuring tape out again I brought it up his
inseam, but then slowly moved my hand over the bulge in his pants like it was
the most normal thing to do.

“Does
that need to be measured to?” He asked playfully.

“Yes,
as a matter of fact it does,” I said, glad to finally feel like my old
self again. “Its the latest innovation in tailoring. You can read about it
in GQ.”
Or more likely Dear Penthouse
, I thought forcing myself to
keep a straight face.

I
looked up at him, my eyes wide and innocent as I tried to act like I believed
every word I told him as my hand traveled the length of his manhood, surprised
by its size.

“I
believe I read about that.” He winked as he grinned at me. “But I
think you’re doing it wrong, I believe the tailor is supposed to be more hands
on. You know, for a proper fit.”