The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (19 page)

He nods.

"I want Lizzy to have that."

"Of course." He runs his fingers along my chin, tilting it so we're eye to eye. "You are free, Kat. I need you for a few months, but when we're not together, you're free to do whatever you want."

"As long as I keep up the right image."

"Your image is perfect." He stares into my eyes. "You're better than I ever imagined."

"At lying to people."

"If I was looking to fall in love, it would be with you." His hand brushes my cheek.

My stomach drops. A horrible thud fills my body with tension. If he was going to fall in love it would be with me. What bullshit. He's not going to fall in love, so it's not going to be with me. It's not a compliment. It's not comforting. Not unless I can convince myself it's more than a lie.

"Don't say things you don't mean." I slide to the other side of the couch.

"I never do." He moves closer. "I want you to feel better."

"I'm not going to feel better."

"I disagree." He pulls me onto his lap. Wraps his arms around my waist. "I'll get your mind off this."

"You can't appease me with sex," I say. "Is that the only way you can deal with people's emotions—pay them off or fuck them?"

His eyes flare with something I can't place. He releases his grip. Instead of feeling relieved, I feel cold. Empty. This is comforting. Maybe not in the way he means it to be, but it's comforting all the same.

"I know what you're going through," he says. "My father wasn't just an asshole who drank himself to death. He was an angry guy who took out his frustration on my mother."

"Oh." My heart sinks. Poor Meryl. She hasn't had it easy.

"Until I was old enough to step in, then he took it out on me." He looks at me. Same steady gaze but there's a vulnerability in his voice. "I was fourteen when he died. I didn't feel anything except relief. The extra responsibility was nothing compared to how much I hated him."

I try to stay calm. How can Blake be so blasé about his father being abusive? It was a long time ago, sure, but time can't heal all wounds. That must hurt, that he wasn't able to protect his sister, his mother, himself.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"It was no loss."

"But I'm sorry you went through that. Love shouldn't hurt. Not like that."

He takes my hand. "It made me stronger. You lost parents who loved you. You lost something real. But it made you stronger."

I shake my head. "I'm not strong."

"You are."

A tear rolls down my cheek. Mom. Dad. It's been so long. I miss them so much. I never let myself miss them. I never let myself grieve the life I could have had. It's all so unfair. I try to convince myself that life is unfair. That's just how it is.

But that doesn't make it hurt less.

Blake wipes the tear from my eye. I look up at him, but he's still so inscrutable.

"I'm sorry you went through that," I say. "It's awful."

"I was used to being surrounded by that kind of misery—the yelling, the hitting, the hatred. Meryl and Orson drank heavily. It gave her courage and it made him angry. When he threatened to hit her, she'd stare back at him and call him a coward. She'd dare him to do it." He looks out the window at the clear white sky. There's something in his eyes, like he admires Meryl's courage.

"She was brave," I say.

"Yes, but not strategic. When I stepped in, I did the same thing. I had to make him angry at me so he'd hit me instead of her. The asshole didn't even care who he hurt as long as he hurt someone."

I squeeze his hand. "You all deserved better."

"I didn't do enough to protect her or Fiona. I could have called the police. After he hit her, after he got in his car drunk. Hell, I could have cut the brake lines. I could have stopped him for good."

I swallow hard. His dad died in a car crash. But that can't be possible...

"I didn't," Blake says like he can read my mind. "I wish I had. It would have spared us a lot of suffering."

"That's a hell of a choice for a fourteen-year-old to make."

He shakes his head. His expression softens. There's a vulnerability in his eyes. I don't have to ask. I know he's never told anyone else this. I can feel it.

I wrap my arms around Blake. He holds me back, shifting so our bodies are pressed together. I breathe deeply, willing my touch to take his pain away. It's not much, but it's something.

"I have a perfect distraction," he says.

I wipe my eyes, willing my feelings back into the box where I usually stuff them.

"But we can stay here if you want."

"I don't." I take his hand and rise to my feet, careful not to kick over the drink. "Is it sex?"

He laughs. Actually laughs. God, it really is a nice laugh. He eyes crinkle. And he has a dimple. The cutest dimple I've ever seen.

He shakes his head.

"You have a beautiful smile," I say. "But you never smile."

He raises his eyebrows, smiling wide. I laugh and a bit of the tension building inside me eases. The loss still hurts, but it's a hurt I can live with.

This is a decision I can live with.

I take Blake's hand and follow him out of the room.

***

The ROOF ACCESS door is locked. The building is forty-something stories. The roof isn't the safest place to hang out.

Of course, Blake has a key. He squeezes my hand and leads me onto the roof. The view around us is amazing. We're right in the middle of downtown, surrounded by skyscrapers. They look close enough to touch, but attempting such a thing would mean quite the fall.

Dark, grey clouds loom around us. It's colder than it was this afternoon, but it's not seeping into my veins. If anything, I'm hot.

Holy crap. There's a pool. It glows with an aqua sheen, a spot of brightness against the cloudy sky.

Light dances off the pool. It casts strange lines over Blake's face. He's watching me, studying my reaction. The same thing he always does.

"No one else has access to the roof," he says.

"So this is your private pool?"

"More or less."

He drops his keys on a little patio table. The guy maintains a pool on the roof of a damn skyscraper just for kicks. Rich people really know how to spend.

"Do you ever use it?" I ask.

"When I need to think." He looks at the view. "It's a good spot."

"And how often is that?"

He smiles. Actually smiles. My heart goes into overdrive. It's like I'm a schoolgirl with a crush. Blake is smiling at me. Smiling. At. Me.

We're going to get married, and I'm atwitter over a smile. Fantastic.

"Your point is taken," he says.

"So I was right? You admit it."

Laugh. He laughs. That's twice in one hour. A record of some kind.

He nods. "You getting in?"

"After you."

Blake holds my gaze as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. My jaw drops ever so slightly. His body is a work of art, and it's somehow even better under the dancing reflection of the pool. There's no way I rejected his sexual advance mere minutes ago. That's impossible.

He slides out of his jeans. I sigh. Actually sigh. His thighs are damn muscular. Perfect lines. Perfect. I've been around him naked before, but I've never had such a good look.

He. Is. Perfect.

I want to draw him from every possible angle. I want to capture every nuance of his body with my pencil.

"You look warm," he says.

"I'm fine."

He moves towards me. Unbuttons my coat and slides it off my shoulders. I shiver but I'm not cold. It's his proximity. It's him being so close to me.

I pull my sweater over my head. Just a t-shirt and jeans now. Like he was wearing moments ago.

I reach for his boxers. Blake shakes his head. He drops to his knees and unzips my boots. I step out of them, and he pulls off my socks one by one. His fingertips trail over the seam of my jeans, the inside of my left leg. Over my calf, my knee, my inner thigh. And then between my legs.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

He follows the line all the way to the button of my jeans. In a single flick of his wrist, he unbuttons and unzips me.

The damn things are skinny jeans. They don't budge. He pushes them down my hips, pushing my panties with them. I shimmy them to my thighs. Still, they're stuck.

Blake drops back to his knees. He pulls my jeans to my feet. I step out of them one by one. He rises slowly until he's all the way upright.

He's a few inches away. Close enough we could kiss. Touch. Make love. Silly me, it's not making love with Blake. It's fucking. He fucks. I send the word
love
through a shredder and stuff it some place where it can't get to me. No love here. No way in hell.

I step back, undo my bra, and let it drop to the ground. I turn away, but I can feel Blake's gaze on me. Heat rushes through my body, but I'm aware how cold it is out here. I take two steps towards the pool and dip a toe. The water is warm. And the way it's all lit up is damn inviting.

Blake slides out of his boxers. Holy crap. It was only a day ago I saw him naked, but somehow he's even better than I remembered. I avert my gaze to keep from blushing. The guy is perfect and intense and it knocks me off balance completely.

"Are you waiting for something?" he asks.

I shake my head. Here goes nothing. I jump into the pool. It feels cold for a moment. The hairs on my neck stand up. I dunk my head. Under water, everything is blurry. This mess of blue-white.

The water rocks. There's a splash above me. Blake. He's in the pool with me.

I push back to the surface. He's five feet away, water dripping off his perfect shoulders.

He moves closer. "Distracted?"

I nod. "Thanks for listening before. And for talking... I almost believed you were my supportive fiancé." My gaze fixes on the water beneath me. There's nothing like that between us. It's all fake. A lie. The guy listens because he's not an asshole. But that's all there is to it.

His fingertips brush my chin, the same gesture he was making in his office. I look up at him, holding his gaze for a moment. He's as intense as ever, but that same softness is there. The same sweetness is there.

My lungs work extra hard to find their next breath. So much is going on around me. I'm in another oasis of calm. It's supposed to be the eye of the storm, but I feel a lot more like the storm.

"I do care about you," he says.

"Yeah, I know we're not—well, I'm not sure what we are, but we're not lovers."

"I'll do anything I can to support you."

"What more could I ask for in a husband?" My voice cracks. I dive back under the water. Eyes open. The chlorine stings. I can just make out the edges of Blake's body. They're blurry but they're still perfect.

I push off the concrete and glide towards the deep end. When I come up for air, Blake is staring at me. Fixed on me. He moves closer. Closer. Closer.

His wet hair is slicked back. It suits him, really, but so far I've never seen anything that doesn't suit him.

"Kat." His voice is sweet.

"I'm fine, thanks. Just thinking how lucky I am marrying such a supportive guy as a ruse. Luckiest girl in the world, really."

He studies me, deciding if he believes me. He nods like he does.

"You've never been in love," I say.

"Never."

"Nothing?"

"Never anything more than lust."

"Yeah, of course." I squeeze water from my hair. "I was just curious. I mean, I've never been in love either. I want to, one day, but it's not really a priority now. I'll have to think about school and a career." I shrug my shoulders and shake my head dry. "Do you think it's because of your parents? That what they had was love taking an ugly turn?"

"I don't bother dwelling on the why." He runs a hand through my hair. "I've never seen love go any other way. Look at Fiona and Trey. They're miserable."

"My parents were in love. They were happy."

"How do you know for sure?" he asks.

"Because I do. Love isn't something you know. It's something you feel." My heart speeds up. My breath follows suit. "And it feels amazing. Warm and comfortable and perfect."

"You said you've never been in love."

Oh, yeah. I did say that. And it's true. My cheeks flush. I'm hot all over again. I can feel Blake's stare, and it makes me feel even more naked. "Other kinds of love. Like family. Friends."

His eyes stay fixed on mine. There's something on the tip of his tongue, I can tell, but he doesn't say anything.

I dive under the surface and do a somersault. There is something warm and comfortable about the water. It's everywhere, all around me. Maybe I can explain it to Blake this way. This is what love feels like. You're swallowed whole, but you know you're safe. You know it's going to be okay.

Not that I'm familiar with the concept.

Not that I'm falling in love with someone.

Not anything like that.

Chapter Sixteen

We spend twenty minutes swimming around the pool. Clouds get dark and grey. A drizzle turns into a downpour. I ignore Blake's suggestion we leave. We're already in the pool. Rain isn't going to hurt us.

The sky flashes white. Lightening. Thunder booms a few seconds later. Okay, no more playing around. I don't need to be told that a pool on top of steel tower is a bad place to hang out during a thunderstorm.

Still, Blake drags me out of the pool. He sends me into the staircase naked and gathers our clothes alone. He's trying to protect me, but I'd rather share the risk of electrocution. I'd rather we work like an actual team.

The roof door pulls open and Blake steps inside. No longer naked, sadly. He's wearing his boxers. He pulls my sweater over my head. I'm dripping wet, and it soaks up the water like some kind of fast-acting towel. Not so much help in warming up. Not so much help in clothing me. I'm still bottomless.

I take the stairs one at a time, my hand firm around the railing. Everything is wet and slippery. It gives me all sorts of ideas.

I push at the door to the penthouse floor. Locked. Of course it's locked. Everything about Blake is impenetrable, even his damn company. He positions himself behind me, his chest pressed against my back. He's wet and smooth and his body still feels damn good, even with my sweater and his boxers in the way.