The Scandalous Billionaires Collection (26 page)

"Please." He said. "Please get dressed. I
want to show you that this is about much more than just that." He
looked down at her trembling, exposed naked body. "Sure I'd love to
stay here and make you scream some more until somebody finally
called the cops, but if you will please be kind enough to come with
me I hope I can convince you that I mean what I say."

Melissa still hesitated.

"Please." He said quietly, holding the
delicate crumpled lingerie out before her. "I don't know what I'll
do if you don't come."

On the way to their mystery destination Jason was
tight-lipped about his secret, but Melissa had one more thing to
clear up in order to be satisfied with her work, if she could call
it that.

"Jason, there's still one thing I don't
understand. What about the money your family is upset that you've
been giving away? How does that tie in with anything that you've
told me about your past and your difficulty with
relationships?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course I do. I'm a psychotherapist after
all, I genuinely would like to help."

"Well, the truth is that it has nothing to do
with all of that. It's not a problem, but as I promised to tell you
the truth about everything I might as well come clean with this as
well. It's like this, our father, Jason Demovic Senior, he
was--"

"Were here Mr. Demovic." The driver's voice
interrupted Jason's disclosure.

"I'll tell you all of that in good time.
We're where we need to be. Come on, you can get out of the
car."

Before Melissa could protest Jason was out on
the street and she had no choice but to follow suit. Looking around
she was dumbfounded to realize that the destination Jason had
planned for them was a small art gallery in the West Village. It
was one she hadn't heard of before but everything about it appealed
to her. There was nothing pretentious, just excellent art of all
kinds and with an obvious focus on Latin American artists.

"I don't understand Jason, what are we doing
here?"

"Just keep going." He said and indicated a
room off to the back. When she stepped inside she was amazed. It
was a mini exhibition of works from some of her favorite artists,
but most importantly from Fernanda Salazar.

"Oh my God." She said. "I had no idea she was
exhibiting new work anywhere in Manhattan." She turned to Jason and
beamed at him. "This is so sweet of you." She went to kiss him but
he smiled and turned her around, directing her attention to one
dark corner of the room.

She peered a little closer and then gasped at
what she saw.

"Jason, no… is that?"

"It sure is."

"But you can't… I didn't… where did you get
them?"

It was a series of framed sketches with
obvious influence from Fernanda Salazar. They were her
sketches.

"You have to take those down. You stole those
from me."

"Like you never stole anything from me."

It was true. She had stolen his personal
property including an expensive telephone. All he had done was
taken a few loose sheets from her sketch pad.

"Do you like the frames?" He said.

"Like them? They’re beautiful. They're worth
more than the pictures."

"Oh I don't know about that. I know a little
about art and I can tell you we've had some pretty good offers on
those sketches already."

"Offers? What are you talking about?"

"I'm not just a technology geek Melissa, I
have an eye for art as well. This place is a little hobby of
mine."

"And you're using it to sell your
girlfriend's--"

He jerked her in close.

"Girlfriend?" He said. "I don't think I've
had one of those before." He pushed the door closed and turned the
lock. "Is that what you are? My 'girlfriend'?"

Melissa could feel his desire growing
together with her own lust for him, but as much as she wanted to be
taken by storm and left senseless yet again, it would have to
wait.

"I want explanations Jason, what's going on
here?" She tried to push him away but he didn't move. His body was
taut with hunger for her.

"Explanations can wait. I want you right now
and you know I always get what I want." He growled the words into
her ear and her nipples went hard.

"Since when have I ever given you what you
wanted, whenever you wanted? You obviously don't even know what
having a girlfriend means."

His hand explored lower down, caressing her
abdomen and then searching between her thighs.

"I know that men have sex with their
girlfriends. Don't tell me I got that part wrong."

"Tell me what's going on here or you can take
that thing," she patted the rock hard member inside his pants, "and
put it somewhere else."

He groaned with frustration.

"God damn it. Okay, but if I answer all your
questions, then do I get what I want?"

What 'you' want?
Melissa thought.
Just you wait until I get you naked again.

"Maybe." She said. "No guarantees."

The control she exerted over his desires only
made things worse for him.

"Okay. Jesus Christ, I want you so much right
now. Whatever! Just tell me what you need to know."

"What are my sketches doing here?"

"I saw them at your house and I knew they
were good, so I brought them to Fernanda--"

"Oh my God. No. Please tell me she hasn't
seen those, I have much better things I could show her!"

"Keep those things for me." He growled.

"I mean pictures."

"Yes. Pictures." He growled even more.

"I mean art, not… not--"

"Erotic pictures?"

"No. Not of me anyway."

"Too bad. Either way, Fernanda said I needed
to get this art out there. I said I didn't have permission yet and
I wasn't sure about the artist. She said just hang them. If the
public is interested I could tell the artist and let her decide. So
that's what I did. We've had offers of up to ten thousand dollars
apiece for your scratch work."

Melissa gasped.

"They're just doodles."

"Yeah, ten thousand dollar doodles."

He sunk his head to her neck and began
devouring.

"Not yet." She pulled back. He groaned and
she felt the heat of his burgeoning desire on her thigh. As wet as
she was for him, she needed more answers.

"Why are we still here? Why are you with me?
I stole from you, lied to you, blackmailed you, gave your personal
diary to that worm David; you should hate me right."

He pulled back from her, in deadly earnest
now.

"Don't ever say that. You made a promise to
me and you kept it. Even though your career was on the line, you
kept that promise to heal me. You knew you could do it and you
broke every rule in the book to make that happen. A promise is a
promise. My mother and father taught me that; my mother by keeping
them, my father by breaking them. I won't ever break a promise,
especially not to a child or to a mother. You made a promise to
your little sister to take care of her and you've done everything
in your power to do so. Now you don't have to worry about her
anymore."

Melissa went to protest but he silenced her
with a finger to her lips.

"When I met you Melissa…" his voice came out
hoarse with emotion, her eyes searched his, their lips came close
together, "I knew I'd found the one but I had to be sure. When you
stayed with me even after you'd lost your career I knew it even
more." He squeezed her tightly. "And I've wanted to jump your bones
every minute of every day since I first laid eyes on you in that
prim little business suit of yours."

Melissa gulped--tears, love and lust all
mixing together into a wild cocktail of emotion. She took his head
into her hands and locked his eyes to hers.

"Take me." She hissed, trembling with desire.
"I'm yours Jason Demovic, all yours. Jump these bones."

"With great pleasure Dr. Price."

His mouth fell to hers and they locked
together in passionate embrace, the languid eyes of Fernanda
Salazar's tropical beauties smiling down on their love.

The venue was nice, spectacular even, and renowned
for its stunning views of New York City. The elegant young woman in
the designer dress had chosen it and her date tonight--the
fabulously eligible and incredibly hot Zachary Demovic--had felt a
bit uneasy with her selection. Not that this was any great problem
though, as he was used to ignoring unease. Rather than dwell on the
sensation he preferred to look at the twinkling lights of mid-town
Manhattan and wonder about how things were going with the massive
construction site that was his pet project at the moment. To anyone
else it would be the project of a lifetime, but to Zachary it was
an amusing sideline. The darkly handsome young billionaire had made
his fortune in social media software together with his two brothers
and real estate development was really just his way of
relaxing.

His date was undoubtedly beautiful and her
eye-catching low cut, haute couture dress sparkled almost as
brilliantly as the city lights below. Every head in the exclusive
rooftop venue had turned to watch when she had arrived and those
weren't just any heads--those were the cream of New York
society.

She was in her element.

Zachary hardly noticed she was there. He
continued looking out the window at the skyscrapers and down to the
crawling traffic below in the troughs and canyons of the Big
Apple.

The woman stared at him, willing him to pay
attention to her, but he was lost.

She began to visibly tremble.

"Zachary." she said softly, trying to contain
herself. She was not used to being ignored. He continued to stare
distractedly.

"Zachary." She said a little louder. He
turned his head to look at her but said nothing, still not
acknowledging her presence. He had a slight frown. The truth was
that things were held up on his pet project and he couldn't rest
easy until the way had been cleared for construction to begin in
earnest on the greenfield site he had purchased for his Demovic
Technical Innovation University, or DTIU as he liked to call it. An
environmentalist group was holding up the project and though he
sympathized with their cause, he didn't agree. He was determined to
find a way out that would be acceptable to everyone, including the
press, the public and his investors.

The woman slowly realized that he was looking
through
and not
at
her.

She bristled with anger but managed to
restrain herself again. She hadn't known Zachary that long but had
revealed herself more to him than to nearly any other man in her
life.

He was worth it.

With an estimated fortune of 26 billion
dollars, aged only 28 years of age and with smoldering,
Mediterranean good looks, he was the toast of New York City's
socialites. The common folk could have their pop stars, movie stars
and sporting heroes with their meager millions; she had her eye on
the prize. Since Zachary's older brother Jason had been taken by
some nobody psychotherapist, this automatically made the next
brother in line the catch of the century and a fitting mate for
her; the apex of glittering, rake thin, born-rich, East Coast high
society.

She put her hand softly to his and he
jumped.

"Son of a bitch!" He said.

She jumped as well. He glared at her as
though she had just appeared in front of him out of thin air.

"You were a million miles away." she said
softly.

"Huh?"

"In your thoughts."

"Sorry, uh Trudy, I've got a lot on my mind
these days. Speaking of which I'm as hungry as a bear. Have you
eaten yet?"

"My name isn't Trudy." She said with
dignified restraint.

Zachary waited to hear what her name was. She
crossed her arms and looked at him half playfully, half
murderously.

He had been roped into dating this woman
although 'dates' weren’t really his thing. Since Jason had
officially taken a girlfriend his family and friends seemed to have
gone crazy. Suddenly everyone was out to match him up with someone
worthy of his status and this girl, whatever her name was, had
somehow surfaced to the front of the queue.

He felt bad for her.

"Of course." He said. "How could I forget?
I've just been a little distracted."

She folded her arms across her perfect
breasts and waited.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What is it?"

"What's what?"

"My name of course. Zachary, this isn't
funny. Are you feeling okay?"

He looked at her with the same charming
boyish grin that had seduced so many women before her.