Billionaire Romance: MAXIMILIAN (An Alpha Bad Boy Contemporary Mystery Romance) (Mysterious Billionaires Book 3, Anthologies & Collections)

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Copyright 2015 by (Nicole Banks) - All rights reserved.

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By: Nicole Banks

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This book's Riddle:
Q: The person who buy me doesn't need me, the person who makes me doesn't want me and the person who uses me can't appreciate me.
What am I?
Can you solve it?
Show Answer
!

The soaring building that housed Rogue Enterprises stood proud and high against the city skyline, its many windows throwing refractions of sunlight back into the clear, still air and deep blue sky.

Jill stood in front of the revolving doors, clutching her messenger bag and trying to get her nerves quieted down. Easier said than done.

She’d just landed a plum job at the corporation that was redefining the words wealth and power, and that meant that she would have a hand in not only reshaping the city—which had steadily grown under Rogue’s guidance—but in the future of that company too.

She fidgeted and took a deep breath. The revolving doors slid in neat circles, and she recalled that revolving doors had been invented to help maintain air pressure inside skyscrapers, an ingenious and simple solution that had revolutionized architecture. Innovation at its simplest and most powerful.

She gulped hard and walked toward the doors. She caught sight of her reflection in the windows. Perfect crisp blouse. Pencil skirt with just a hint of a slit, and a wide belt. Good shoes. Her blonde hair was swept up into a neat coil, revealing the planes and angles of her face. She’d gone with minimal makeup, just a dash of mascara on her naturally thick lashes and a pretty pink matte lipstick to emphasize her slightly too-generous mouth.

Her slender shoulders were up high and square, and the blouse showed the gentle swell of her breasts and the narrow tuck of her waist while the skirt slid neatly over her lean hips and long legs. She didn’t look like a small-town girl. Neither did she look like the girl who had often been the target of schoolyard bullies because she was so plain and skinny. That gave her an additional boost of confidence, and she walked into the lobby and up to the desk briskly. She had her ID badge already, and she knew which floor to go to. She headed to the elevator, squeezing into the car with at least a dozen others. There was little room and she found herself smashed into a corner, trying to make herself even smaller and keep her bag at her side as the car started upward.

It hit the second floor with a bump and a shudder. The doors whooshed open. The man standing next to her turned his face to hers and she drew a sharp breath.

God he was handsome, and around her age—not quite thirty. His face was carved like rock. All sharp cheekbones and full lips, straight black eyebrows and piercing gray eyes. His hair was a rich, thick auburn color, and the scent rising off his natty suit was purely intoxicating. Soap and expensive cologne mingled with a masculine scent that came from his skin to form something so incredible that she wanted to sniff it again and again.

The car let two people out and she heaved a sigh of relief, but then three more crowded in. Her hip bumped the narrow hip of the sexy man next to her and she muttered a brief sorry.

His body was tight against hers now. Her pulse raced. Heat spread through her entire body and she had to force her teeth together to keep herself from licking her lips in a nervous gesture.

The car continued upward. The vibrations running up from the bottom of it spread up from the soles of her shoes into her calves and then thighs. Her fingers clutched the bag more tightly.

He shifted slightly. His body pressed against hers. She knew there was not an inch of space to spare in the car, and her other side was mashed so hard against the little steel corner her ribs ached. She looked at him again and he nodded slightly, a little gesture that said he understood. He was crowded on either side as well. When the doors opened to let a few more people out he said, “Hit the close door button.”

She could see people dashing toward the elevator. Her thumb shot out and the doors closed. He moved slightly away from her, giving her space to breathe, but the phantom warmth from his body still clung to hers and she had an almost irrational urge to lean closer to him to get more of that heat.

The others in the elevator were silent. They got off in twos and threes and eventually it was just her and the stunningly handsome man in the car.

She said, “You’re going to twenty-five too?”

“Yes. I keep telling the partners they need an express elevator for the employees on that floor.”

She allowed herself to smile. “I think there is an express, but it’s just for the partners.”

His eyes met hers. That gaze was weighty and assessing. “Do you think that’s fair?”

“Maybe they have to get places faster than the rest of us.” She wasn’t comfortable saying anything else.

“That could very well be.” There was amusement in his tone. The car stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out onto the twenty-fifth floor and looked right and left.

The offices up there were all extraordinarily well-appointed and large. As she passed a few she saw opulent paintings and carpets, caught sight of massive desks and long sofas. And those were just the areas that the assistants worked in!

Her nerves rose up again. Was she really capable of working here, on this rarified floor?

The man walked beside her. She swallowed down her doubts and asked, “Do you work up here as well?”

“I do.” His voice was low and smoky. It reminded her of whiskey, all honeyed burn and deep notes. “I’m Maximillian Vaughn.”

Her face paled. Maximillian Vaughn, one of the four self-made billionaires who had started Rogue Enterprises years ago.

She spoke without thinking. “Oh. I thought you would be older.”

He stopped walking. Heat hit her face and ran from her chin to her hairline. She opened her mouth, trying to think of anything that would lessen the inanity of that series of words.

“I usually hear, ‘I thought you’d be taller.’” His lips curved upward in a smile that was not only genuine, but that showed square white teeth which were perfectly even but for one slightly chipped incisor.

That small flaw made him seem more human, somehow, and she stuttered out, “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I really am. I… I’m Jill Widefield. The new architect.”

His hand came out. She took it. Their fingers met and little thrills shot through her entire body. She shook his hand firmly and released it quickly.

He said, “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, Jill. You’ll be working with me quite a bit.” He nodded and then stepped toward the door of an office that bore his name on the door. “I’m looking forward to it too.”

He left her standing there, shaken and excited. Her nipples pressed against the fabric of her blouse and she looked down, realizing those erect peaks were clearly visible and cursing inwardly.

She hastened to her office, a small but still amazing space tucked into a corner at the end of the hallway. Max’s office was next door. Her office took up the end of that hallway and there was nothing but blank wall across from the door, so Max’s office was the only one near hers. She took note of that as she headed inside, a delighted smile crossing her face as she took in the large floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk. She set her bag down and headed to the windows, staring out at the city spread below her.

This was happening!

She went to the desk and sat down. The chair was ergonomic, the blotter crisp and clean, and someone had left a gorgeous and expensive Mark Cross pen set there. It had her name on it!

She drew deep breaths and managed a smile when a woman walked in. She was older, with a face that said she was stern and busy to boot. She said, “I’m Ms. Holt. I will be your assistant. I’m also assistant to Mr. Riley, so my office is down the hall.”

She showed Jill how to call her and then set a thick file on the desk along with a printed schedule. She asked, “Would you like coffee, or a water?”

“No, no thank you, Ms. Holt. I’m fine.”

The schedule was daunting. She had a meeting in less than twenty minutes and a full day beyond that. She saw Maximillian’s name on the schedule and her breath caught in her throat.

Ms. Holt left and Jill quickly gathered the blueprints she had down and the rough drawing for a new project, and did a fast few minutes of meditation to try to clear her head and prepare for the day. But a vision of Max kept floating upward in her mind.

Max.

She was already shortening his name to something that felt far too intimate. She had to remember not to do that.

She gathered her things and took a quick peek at the schedule again and then at the clock. She had to go. She headed down the hall to the conference room marked on the schedule, pausing in the doorway as she saw Maximillian already there, lounging in a chair. He’d taken off the jacket he had been wearing earlier. His shirt clung to his broad shoulders and arms and arrowed nicely down a trim and toned waist and stomach.

He saw her and said, “Good morning. Do you like your office?”

“Yes, very much, thank you.” She managed to keep her tone as crisp as her blouse, which pleased her. She asked, “Which chair should I take?”

He indicated the one directly across from him and she set her things down but remained standing. Others began to fill the room. She recognized Hunter, the partner whose name was synonymous with great ideas and fast yachts;  Dante Sterling, a take-no-prisoners kind of businessman whose luck as a gambler had not failed him in business either; and Brad Draper, a street-racer-turned-financial-advisor with the devil’s own luck in investments and a keen sense of property.

And rounding out the group was Maximillian, a former realtor who had turned flipping foreclosed houses into a successful venture that gave him the stake he needed to join his friends in creating the company. Maximillian was the man who planned out the property takeovers and building projects that Rogue Enterprises had used as a springboard to all the nationwide projects they were now undertaking. Next they would branch out into the global markets—that was, if the projects they undertook now proved to be as profitable as they thought.

Jill would be a part of those projects, if the ones she worked on now were good enough. She’d finally have the success that she had been chasing.

Maximillian spoke first, “I would like to see the roughs, please.”

She nodded and opened the tube she’d placed them in. She spread them and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Maximillian was up and speaking.

She clamped her mouth shut but she was fuming. The arrogant bastard! His finger was moving over the rough and he was talking fast, and naturally everyone had pretty much forgotten she was even around. There was a lot of discussion, a few arguments (none of which she managed to insert a word into), and then the meeting concluded and everyone left.

Everyone but her and Maximillian.

He gave her a long, cool look and asked, “Is something wrong?”

Holding her temper was not her strong suit. She snapped, “Yes, there is something wrong. You basically just hijacked my design and then changed it.”

“For the better,” he said coolly.

“Maybe so, but all I was given was a general idea, and after it became clear where the weaknesses were you never gave me a chance to speak!”

“Get used to it,” he said callously. “That’s how we get things done. Learn to shout above the din.”

He drew closer. Her body trembled with a mixture of rage and desire. His face was close to hers and her eyes dropped to his mouth, curled into a sardonic smile now. She said, “I’ll do—”

He kissed her.

His mouth came down on hers, fierce and demanding. Fire spiked along her nerve endings as his teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and then his tongue thrust into her mouth. Her response was immediate and primal.

She kissed him back.

Her body sagged against his, and then her hands wound into his thick hair, the crisp waves of it crackling below her fingers as she drank in the flavor of his mouth and tongue.

They broke apart. She was breathing hard and dazed. He looked as cool as ever. He said, “See you at the next meeting,” and sauntered out, leaving her stunned and blinking, propped up by the long rectangle of the table.

“Oh God,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’m going to have to quit.”

***

Maximillian (Max to his friends) was thoroughly amused—and intrigued.

From the moment that Jill had stepped into that elevator he had been intrigued. She had a sort of vulnerability that had stiffened his cock, and as she had been forced closer to him and the heady scent of her hair—roses and lilies—had filled his nose he had grown even more intrigued. Her body was lean and sharply angled, just the way he liked a woman to be. Her face was a marvel of bone structure and clear skin.

He’d not meant to kiss her, but now that he had he knew that he was in big trouble. Jill was passionate under the cool exterior she projected. He could sense the depths of that passion and he had no doubt that it burned as darkly as his own, even if she didn’t know it yet.
Yet
because he intended to have her, and to teach her a few things about desire while he was at it.

Of course, there was the issue of her working for the company. That could be problematic. Sexual harassment lawsuits weren’t something he wanted to get hit with by any means, so he would have to be very careful to make sure she was as interested in him as he was in her. Of course, if that kiss was any indication, she absolutely was.

He whistled as he walked down the hallway toward his office. It had been a long time since he’d met a woman who got under his skin, and Jill had done just that—and done it so quickly that it was slightly unsettling, but also very exciting.