The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (18 page)

"When did you start talking so much about sex?"

"Since puberty." Lizzy laughs. "But forget sex. Look at this logically. I'm sure that's what Blake is doing."

"He is really machine like."

Her eyes light up. "Oh yeah?"

"Not sexually, you perv."

She winks. "Uh, huh. Totally. Not sexually." Her expression gets serious. "You go through with this wedding, you're set for life. You can do whatever the hell you want. It's all your money. Yours, Kat."

"Ours."

"No," she says. "It's yours. I'm not saying you can't buy me dinner sometimes. Or pay my share of the occasional trip to the Caribbean, but it's yours."

Ours. It's ours. I'm doing this for us. If Lizzy doesn't want it... then what the hell is the point?

Lizzy goes to pluck a flower from a branch. I slap her hand away. She sticks her tongue out. However logical she is, she's still a teenager.

"If you can't stomach the fake marriage, take the twenty-five grand from his sister. It's enough for another year in New York."

And it's more than enough to get me out of this lie.

I try to imagine dumping Blake plausibly enough that he believes it. My chest aches. It's an awful thought. I can't hurt him like that. Our relationship is fake, but our agreement isn't. I trust him. He trusts me.

Lizzy checks a text on her phone.

"Can you handle dinner on your own?" I ask.

"Go get laid," she says. "I don't judge."

"That better not be a boy."

"And if it is?"

"He's meeting me before he takes you out." I pull out my phone and text Blake. He replies almost instantly that he's at the office.

Sunday afternoon and he's at the office.

Figures.

It is the perfect atmosphere for negotiation.

Chapter Fifteen

Downtown is a ghost town. I've never seen any part of New York City this empty. The only person around is a security guard in the lobby.

I hug my purse to my shoulders. This could go a million ways. Not all of them end well.

The elevator doors open. I step inside and push the button for the penthouse floor. It flashes red. Damn keycard. I fish it from my wallet, swipe it, and press the button again. Green. Damn Blake needs everything so perfect and secret and hard to reach.

I check my reflection in the mirror. Fuck me. Same clothes I was wearing Saturday. At least he knows I showered. He was there.

Ding. The doors slide open. There's something strange about the hallway. All of the lights are off, just like last time, but it looks different in the daylight. The sun is a bright yellow and it streams through the huge windows. There are shadows everywhere.

Once again, the door to Blake's office is closed. I reach for the handle. Locked. No one except Blake is here and the damn door is locked.

I knock.

Panic rises in my stomach. This could go so wrong. He's asked me to be honest before, but that might not be enough.

Blake pulls open the door. He's not in a suit today. Jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. It's tight on his broad shoulders and chest. It hangs off him perfectly. And those jeans...

A flutter builds below my belly. I'm here to talk. I won't get distracted by my raging libido. No matter how pleasant the distraction would be. No matter how badly my body is begging me to forget the conversation and get under Blake.

He looks me over, examining me. "Gin and tonic?"

"It's a little early."

He takes that as a yes. Fixes two drinks and hands one to me. "Sit."

"I'm not a puppy."

He sips his whiskey, his eyes still on mine. His eyebrows rise
suit yourself
.

I down half my cocktail. My face flushes, but I don't feel any more confident. I try to hold Blake's stare, but my gaze darts to the floor. Those bits of softness I saw in Blake are nowhere to be found. I can't talk to him about this. It won't go well.

"I'm sorry," I say. "This was a bad idea. I should go."

I make a move for the door, but Blake presses it shut behind me. He rubs my shoulder. Brushes the hair from my eyes.

"Something is bothering you." His voice is even. No telling what he's thinking.

I stare out the window. It's still light. A few hours to sunset even. There's a lot I can do at home. A lot to think about still.

"Kat." He slides his fingertips over my neck. "I don't want to have to drag this out of you."

I take a greedy sip. A little refreshing at least. My gaze refuses to budge from the floor. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No hesitation. His voice is that same even tone.

I look up, into Blake's eyes. There's no sign he's lying. No sign he doesn't believe his words. Okay. I can do this.

I did it once today.

I find the check in my purse and hand it to Blake. "You sister thinks, well I'm not sure what she thinks, but she doesn't believe we're in love or that our marriage will be happy. She wants me to go away."

He glances at the check. "She can't want you to go away that badly if she's only offering twenty-five thousand dollars."

That's it. He's still even. He's positively robotic.

Blake hands the check back to me. "You want more money? You should have made up a number. This weakens your bargaining position."

"It's not about money."

"A competent lawyer could negotiate for at least a million dollars in a prenup."

"It's not like that." I squeeze the check with my thumb and forefinger. "I'll tear it in half right now if I have to."

His eyes flare with irritation. "What do you want then?"

"To have a conversation with you."

He steps away. His gaze turns to the window. "You committed to this already."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." My voice rises. "You don't care that your sister thinks I'm a gold digger. As long as you get what you want, you're happy."

His voice is short. "I'm not happy."

"Well, Blake, what the hell do you want?"

"I want you to honor our agreement."

"I am."

He turns to me, his expression fierce. His eyes pass over me like he's studying me. "You're tense. I'm sure this isn't easy."

"Of course I'm tense. Your sister is trying to pay me off to get out of your life."

Blake slides his finger over the rim of his glass. "I can get your mind off it."

My temper flares. "I don't want my mind off it. I want to discuss this like we're both adults." I go to tear the check in half but my fingers won't cooperate. "You can't buy me. Your sister can't buy me. I'm not for sale."

I try again. It starts as one little rip. I can do this. I don't want Fiona's money. I don't want anyone buying my allegiance.

I meant what I told Blake. I'm not for sale. Not even if it will free me from this lie. Deep breath. I tear the check in half. The two pieces flutter to the ground.

There.

Blake holds my stare. I'm tempted to look away, to shrink back, but I stay strong. He's not going to win this round. He's not going to intimidate me.

"I'm a person, Blake, not a fucking chess piece. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Meryl."

He finishes his whiskey and sets his glass on his desk. "There's no shame in needing money."

"It's not about the money." I shove Blake away. Damn. Forgot I was holding the drink. It falls, spilling to the floor.

He takes a step towards me. Another. He grabs my hips and leans in close. "I said I trust you. I do. So don't waste that trust with such an obvious lie."

My chest goes light. I dig my heels into the hardwood. I'm holding strong. "Fine, I need the money. I'm not a billionaire. I don't have a tech company. In fact, I don't have a fucking penny to my name. It's just my sister and me. No one else will help me. Is that what you want to hear?"

"If it's the truth."

"I need your fucking money, okay? I hate that I need your money, but I do."

His stare cuts through me. I turn away. Fuck this. Blake can't intimidate me. I turn to leave, but he grabs my wrist.

"Don't," he says.

"This is a business agreement, and I'd rather take your money than your sister's money. Even if it means lying."

His grip tightens around my wrist.

"We're not friends," I say.

"Kat." He pulls me closer, until my back is pressed against his chest. He leans in, his breath warm on my ear. "I do care about you."

"Maybe. But we're not friends. We're not lovers. We're colleagues who sometimes have sex. You don't care how I feel. That should matter to me."

"I want this to be easy for you." He wraps his arms around my waist. Nestles his head into the crook of my neck.

"You were right. It's not easy."

He laughs. "Was I right?"

"Go fuck yourself." I shrug my shoulders, breaking his grasp. The sound of his laugh does something to me. I want to say something to hear it again. He always looks so dour. But that laugh... God, that laugh.

"Kat."

My head is spinning. All of a sudden, the couch seems like a good idea. "Maybe you're made of steel, but I'm not. It's hard for me to lie to people. It's hard for me to see my life turned upside down, even if it's a great opportunity." I plant my ass on the couch and pull my knees into my chest. "And I don't need you distracting me from that with some crazy hot sex."

Blake looks me over. His gaze is softer. There's affection in it. He picks the pieces of the check off the floor and sets them on his desk.

"You can still take Fiona's money." He fixes another set of drinks.

"I don't want it."

"Good. Pretend like this never happened."

"She doesn't believe we're in love."

"I'll convince her. If you still prepared to go through with this." He sits next to me. Presses his palm against the skin on my neck.

"Not prepared, no, but I'll do it." I turn and take my drink, avoiding his gaze. It's too intense. It's too much to take.

"I do trust you, Kat." He brushes my hair behind my ears. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't."

"Yeah, enough to throw some money at me." I lean into his touch. It's soothing. I hate that it's soothing, but it is. I release my knees, shifting so I'm pressed against Blake.

"I haven't thrown anything. But I can if you'd prefer that to lawyers transferring it into your bank account."

"Transferring doesn't sound very dramatic," I say.

He brushes another hair behind my ear. His fingertips skim my cheek, soft and light. "I meant what I said. There's no shame in needing money. Most people wouldn't do as well as you have."

"Maybe." The gin and tonic does nothing to soothe me. The only thing giving me any sense of calm is his touch.

Blake runs his fingertips over my cheek. "It must have been hard, holding everything together after your parents died."

I nod. It was hard. It's still hard. And it seems like he cares. Even if we're little more than colleagues. It would feel so good to talk about this with him.

I let my eyes close for a moment. "I still remember the day of the accident. I was at this cross-country event. My last. I was thinking about the guy who asked me to Winter Formal. He was nice, cute, popular, but he didn't do anything for me. We were all talking about the dance—where we were getting ready, how we'd wear our hair. I had already applied to a dozen colleges. Grades were sent. I had a bad case of Senioritis. My biggest concern was what dress I'd wear to Winter Formal."

Blake runs his fingers through my hair. I lean into it, trying my best to feel every sensation as deeply as I can.

"You'd have liked the dress. It was black and low-cut. It's still in my closet somewhere. I've never worn it."

He pulls me closer. Until I can feel his heartbeat. His breath is steady and even on my neck. I close my eyes and surrender to the feeling of Blake's arms around me. It's nice. It's reassuring. The last three years, there's been no one to reassure me. No one to tell me it's going to be okay.

"My coach came over to me," I say. "It was right before I was set to race, and I was all high and mighty, wondering what could be so important. Those are long runs and it was already getting cold. I needed to be in the zone. But the look on her face. I knew something was wrong.

"It was an away meet, so she took me to the parking lot. A tiny parking lot, of course. It was somewhere way out in Queens. From the look on her face, I knew something was really wrong. She could barely manage to look me in the eyes. 'There was an accident.' That was it, then her eyes were on the floor, and she was reciting directions to the hospital. She didn't have the details. The whole trip there, I didn't know if my family was alive or dead. I couldn't hear the subway. I couldn't feel anything around me. I couldn't think. I was in my tiny, cross-country shorts. They're barely longer than panties. But I didn't feel cold. I didn't feel anything."

He holds me closer.

"The way the nurse looked at me, I knew it was bad. Mom and Dad were dead on arrival. Lizzy was in the ICU. I swear two or three days passed with her in the ICU. I was in the waiting room the whole time. They wouldn't let me visit. Bacteria or something. I had to watch her from outside the glass walls. The only thing I saw those two days were the blips on her heart monitor."

A drop falls on my leg. Another. My hand is shaking. My drink. I'm spilling my drink. Blake takes it and sets it on the floor next to us. He turns me around so we're face to face.

There's something sweet in his expression. That's not right, not normal, not like him at all. I look away, focusing on my drink. If I watch carefully, maybe I'll actually see the ice melting.

"That must have been hard," he says.

"There was no time for it to be hard. My parents didn't save for shit. They were in debt. All they had was this tiny life insurance policy. Barely enough to get me through my last semester of high school."

"Were you eighteen then?"

"Yeah. Thank God. We don't have any other family. Lizzy would have been in foster care if I didn't become her legal guardian."

He brushes the hair from my eyes. "It's okay to want a comfortable life."

"That was the last time I was free, that morning at the cross-country meet. It's not about the money, Blake. It's about the sense that I could do anything. I haven't felt that for a long time."