The Billionaire and I (Part Three) (4 page)

I'd lost count of the number of times I asked her to call me Leila, but I let it slide and celebrated the small victory. I remembered my manners, still coming down from the shock of a surprise visitor. "I'm sorry, can I get you something to drink? I've got orange juice, fruit punch...could whip up some coffee too."

"I don't want to put you out," she said emphatically. "Orange juice or water is fine. I know I just kind of popped over."

"It's really fine, Jessa," I insisted, swiping a couple of glasses from the cabinet and lining them up. "I'm glad that you caught me when the place is halfway decent." I glanced down at my tank top and yoga pants—yoga pants that had never actually seen a single yoga class. "I look a mess-"

"You look great!" We exchanged a look at that and she smiled slyly. "When I'm under the weather I'm doing good if I climb out of bed at all, and if I make an appearance, it's usually in pajamas."

"Nothing wrong with pjs," I grinned, handing her a drink. "I'd probably be in my own but, I’ve found just the act of putting on a shirt and pants when I work from home makes me feel productive." I looked over at the couch where work was calling my name. "And as you know, there's a lot to be done."

Another subject change, in part because I really wanted to dive in and I was trying to avoid any questions about
why
I was under the weather. Jacob and I hadn't talked about how we were going to announce the pregnancy, and I didn't want to be in a situation where I'd have to lie.

I headed over to the couch. "Come sit. I'd love to run some ideas by you."

She didn't follow me right away. In fact, she stood right where she was until I made it to the couch and looked back over at her. It was almost like she was expecting me to say never mind or kick her to the curb.

"It's fine, Jessa," I urged gently. "Really."

She practically ran over. "I just don't want to wear out my welcome."

I studied her for a moment, not sure how to bridge the gap between her paralyzing self consciousness and the warrior ready to slay Rachel Laraby after just meeting the woman. But before I could get anything out, she broke the silence.

"I've been keeping an eye on Rachel. Not a literal eye of course because that would be weird, but following her social media. Everything seems-" She wrapped her arms around herself like she was preparing for a chill. "Quiet."

That was even more unsettling than the woman blowing up the blogosphere. I swiped the remote control and flipped on the TV. It was on mute, so I lifted the screen on my laptop, firing off questions to Jessa. "How about Starla? The last time she made waves her assistant gave us a clue that something was brewing. Anything new on her feeds?"

"Nothing on her end either." I didn't have to raise my eyes from the screen to know that Jessa was worried. "You've dealt with Rachel before. Is this the calm before the storm? Should we strap in or do something pre-emptive? Or..." She gasped. "Oh my god."

My eyes shot to her, then followed her line of sight to the TV. Aggravated was the emotion that hit me when I heard Jessa’s gasp, expecting some fresh new Rachel drama. But Rachel's face wasn't lighting up my television screen. It was a news conference...and Jacob was front and center.

"What the hell?!" I croaked, popping to my feet. I moved to the television, practically on top of the screen, like that would somehow transport me to the conference room. Jacob was a far cry from the wrinkled, scowling madman that was making the rounds, courtesy of the amateur paparazzi that grabbed pictures back at the hospital. He smoldered from the stage, his hair slicked back as the cameras broadcasted every delicious angle of his face. He wore a navy blue shirt that made his eyes glow and when he stepped up to the mic, the room fell silent.

"Thank you for meeting me here today." He had that ‘take no prisoners’ tone that demanded respect. I even took a step back, far from immune from that tone.

"I will be making a statement, then the floor is open to any questions," Jacob said, gazing out into the audience without an ounce of apprehension or nerves.

I had enough for both of us. I couldn't stop shaking. My heart felt like it was going to rattle right out of my chest. What was he going to say?

"As many of you are aware by now, I had a relationship with Rachel Laraby. You know her as a talented actress. An enigmatic force both on and off screen. I know-" He cleared his throat. "
Knew
her as a woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders. A weight and responsibility that she struggled with, sometimes gracefully. Sometimes destructively." Jacob placed both hands on the podium. "We parted ways on good terms and I learned that the woman I thought I saw, the kind, vulnerable woman that she played so well, was just that. An act."

Murmurs echoed around the room and I turned to Jessa. Without thought, in the heat of the moment, we high fived each other. Jacob’s approach was matter of fact, but moving. He humanized Rachel, even after she dragged his name through the mud. After my flow chart and all the ideas, we never even thought to just go with the truth. And it was a truth I knew...Jacob cared about her once. And they were there for each other, but things weren't what they seemed and didn't work out. Anyone who'd ever been in a relationship that ended in a break up could relate. And now, if Rachel came back with more craziness, more accusations and insults, it would just backfire and make her look like the jilted ex.

"When I took over at Whitmore and Creighton," Jacob continued. "I made it my mission to help guide our clients through difficult times. To help tell their story to the world." He dropped his eyes and when they recaptured the camera, I got chills. "When Rachel is ready to tell her story, the real story, Whitmore and Creighton will be waiting."

You'd think Jacob had just scored the winning touchdown because the crowd went
wild
. I almost kissed the screen, emotion rising in my throat.

"Did you guys plan this?" Jessa said in awe, clasping her hands together. "It was genius!"

"That was all Jacob." I swept a tear from my cheek, a smile starting in my heart and rising to my lips. I almost touched my belly, but I caught myself and just closed my eyes, sending our baby a message.

That's your daddy. Isn't he awesome?

I
sat in the near dark, the only illumination a pair of candles at the door, one on the counter, a trio flickering at the staircase, and my computer screen. When I checked the final news aggregator, just to make sure, my smile joined the mix, every tooth in my mouth gleaming.

This was the media, so of course they dialed up the drama. Headlines summing up the press conference read, 'Billionaire Tells All!', ‘Jacob Strikes Back!’ and my favorite, 'Team Whitmore!'.

The truth was, the billionaire did not tell all...he didn't share that Rachel had terrorized us from the moment she realized we were a thing. She took a mini break when she realized that I wasn't going anywhere and her best attempts couldn't even chip what Jacob and I had. But when it rains it pours, and she came back when we were both vulnerable. Still, we rose stronger and more powerful than before.

The paparazzi were the most tenacious private investigators you'd ever meet and they caught Rachel at the airport a few hours ago. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had on a sweatshirt, shades, baggy jeans, and black sunglasses. If the huge, oversized shades and the slew of cameras flashing and people calling her name wasn't a dead giveaway, the fact that she was strutting through the airport in Louboutins was. She handled the questions they threw at her like a pro, not saying a word until someone yelled, "You're too hot to be clingy, Rachel!"

That garnered the money shot that was making the rounds on the blogs: Rachel's sneer, coupled with her middle finger.

Now she was headed to parts unknown, I closed my laptop. Closed that book. Looked forward...into the light.

I popped to my feet, a chill rippling over my bare flesh.
Well, a little more darkness first...

I knew my husband well enough to know he was operating under the assumption that I was probably angry at him. He'd come home with a gift of some sort. Flowers, maybe lingerie if he was feeling bold. But he wouldn't find me sitting in the dark, creepily flicking on the lamp beside me when he walked through the door. I took a page from his book, leaving a note on the counter. There were so many things I wanted to say, but there was only one word printed on the paper.

Upstairs.

I knew he was on the way home, minutes away now since I'd already burned fifteen setting up the candles and figuring out the note I'd leave to get him upstairs. I started off trying to write an actual note, filled with how terrified I'd been when I tuned into the conference, with a dash of annoyance—but then everything faded except for pride. It would have been so easy to get up on that stage and defend himself. To rightfully call out every reporter in that room for perpetuating Rachel's crap like it was the gospel truth. Instead, he spoke of a woman that he cared about once who seemed set on hatred and bitterness...and if she was ready to let go of it, he was ready to help her, in spite of everything.

We knew Rachel better than any of them ever would, so we knew full well that she had no interest in letting bygones be bygones, but that wasn't the point. In this case, Jacob's olive branch spoke louder than any confession she gave ever would.

I glided up the stairs, goosebumps rushing over me as I pictured his face going from confusion, to surprise, to excitement. I stopped in the playroom and swiped a bundle of rope and flew into the bedroom. I dropped the rope on the bed and instinctively pulled out the bedside table drawer. I clutched the blindfold, wrapping the soft black fabric around my fist before I shook my head and stuffed it back inside the drawer. Not tonight.

I wanted to look into his eyes while he was inside me.

I couldn't stop fidgeting, nerves taking over. I tried laying down, sexily, but it just felt silly. I padded over to the window and propped myself on the ledge but if it looked as uncomfortable as it felt, then it didn't scream 'take me'. I settled for just standing, every breath pushing me closer to the moment that he'd appear in the doorway.

It was so quiet, so still that I heard every note in the chime of the elevator. It floated up the stairs and wrapped its musical fingers around my throat. What if he wasn't in the mood? Or overly cautious? We hadn't been together since I got back from the hospital.

And you know your husband...he's craving this just like you are. Craving your body stretched out on the bed-

The bed!

I dashed across the room and jumped on the bed, wiggling when I realized the rope was lodged beneath me. I yanked it free and dropped the bundle beside me, then stretched my body into a spread eagle position. I didn't need to be secured or bound. I was completely riveted by need alone, not moving, not breathing as I listened for his footsteps on the stairs.

I counted each one, heart roaring in my ears, lust storming in my veins.

The steps came to an abrupt stop in the doorway. I tilted my head in that direction and even in the inky black darkness I made out the outline of blue and golden skin. He took another step into the room and the smile that cut across his face made my body flutter.

"Wow," he breathed and I exhaled.

My core was already skipping to the good part, want turning liquid. My nipples hadn't even been touched by anything more than his gaze and they were already aching.

He stopped beside the bed and the candle showed me everything. The gentle waves that rolled through his cut locks. The worry lines that were massaged away when he looked at me. The eyes that were filled with passion and devotion. How could I have ever wondered if he cared about me? It was shining right there in his eyes. I dropped to his mouth, the sweet smile from a moment ago suddenly a little dangerous. I knew he loved the chase, making me strip down because he said so. But that smile said he approved of this gift too, me offering myself to him.

I bit my lip, unable to resist making the tiniest jab. "So...flowers or lingerie?"

He furrowed his brow, but then he let out a scoff, shaking his head. When his eyes met mine a second time, they danced with glee. "Neither, actually."

I feigned disappointment, jutting my lip out. "Well, that sucks. I wanted you to at least think you had to atone and surprise you with the fact that I'm not angry at all." I slipped my bottom lip back in my mouth as he stroked his fingertips along my abdomen.

He inhaled deep, his eyes darkening with lust. "You know what it does to me when you bite your lip, Lay."

I nodded demurely, but my next words were anything but. "I do. Maybe you should punish me."

His fingertips grazed my nipple, circling it. "Are you topping from the bottom again?'

"Mmhm," I purred, flicking my eyes pointedly to the rope tangled up beside me.

Jacob's hands stopped stroking. "The rope? But the baby-"

"I'm not asking you to whip me bloody," I kidded. He didn't crack the slightest grin. He was worried about me. Worried about us. I reached up for him, running my fingertips across his chest, lingering where I knew his heart must have been beating a million miles a minute. I felt the shudder of it ripple through him and flutter over me. "We can tone it down. I trust you."

With that, I sank back onto the mattress. He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. "Hearing you say you trust me..." He took my hand and brought it to his cock, my fingers stroking up and down the swollen length. He didn't need to finish. Those three words had him erect and throbbing.

He released my hand but I held tight to him, fondling his hardened length, watching the pleasure grip his features. He gathered himself, pulling himself away with a grin and reached for the rope. It was already separated into four pieces and he laid two at my waist and grabbed the other two and went to the foot of the bed. Our bed looked like a modest four poster bed, with four pillars at each corner. There was a tiny notch in each pillar and Jacob slipped his pointer finger into the notch and released the silver rings hidden inside.