TheBillionairesPilot (2 page)

“Yes, sir. I’m just here to help you,”
Dan replied mildly.

Evan cast his assistant a doubtful look.
Obviously, he hadn’t earned the older man’s confidence yet, and that prickled
at Evan’s inner Dom, who required respect and trust from his subordinates.
“What about someone in Boston, since you seem to know everyone? We’ll arrange a
last minute date with her tonight after my meeting at Nippon. Then I’ll invite
her for the weekend in San Miguel.”

“Let me check.” For an old guy, Dan
flicked pretty damn quickly through his smartphone contact list. After a few
moments, he looked up. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have any names in Boston
suitable for a date tonight or this weekend.”

Evan released an annoyed breath.
“Mitchell Industries has no business acquaintances in Boston with a legal-aged
daughter?”

Dan glanced at his list again. “No, sir.”

“What about a female employee from
Mitchell Industries? Preferably single,” he added, not wanting this weekend to
turn into fodder for the gossip rags.

Dan shook his head. “The Boston office is
small. I’ve known the receptionist for thirty years. She’s a grandmother of
three and the only female employee.”

“Come on, Dan. We’ve got to have
someone.” Evan ran a hand through his too-long hair—a cut being another
thing he’d been too busy to deal with this month. It tended to curl when it got
to this length, making him feel more like a kid than the professional
businessman he was striving to be. His whole fucking life felt like it had
become unmanageable lately. He really needed to spend some time in the club and
get back to his center.

Dan inclined his head toward the
company’s helicopter pilot. “We’ve got her.”

“Who?” Evan narrowed his eyes on the
person flying.

For the first time, he realized the new
pilot was female. Under her bulky headset, her brown hair was secured at the
base of her skull in a tight knot. Nearly half her face was covered in large
aviator sunglasses, and she was dressed in a boxy-cut, dark suit. It was no
wonder he hadn’t seen her as a woman. Except for a lack of grey hair and a much
smaller frame, she looked almost identical to the co-pilot, a man who had
worked for Mitchell Industries since Evan was a boy.

He leaned forward in his seat to get a
better look, but it wasn’t reassuring. From what he could see, she wasn’t
wearing any makeup or jewelry. She looked like a plain Jane, and her white
dress shirt hung nearly straight down the front of her chest. If she had
breasts, they had to be small. She would never be able to keep up a strapless
evening gown.

Groaning, he sat back in his seat. “That
will never work. No one will believe we’re a couple.”

Dan shook his head reprovingly. “Never
judge by first look. I’ve interviewed our pilot personally. She has the smarts
to pull off any kind of charade.”

“But if she looks like a boy while doing
it, it isn’t going to help me. You know Xavier’s moral sensibilities would be
offended by any hint of repressed homosexuality.” Evan swallowed a smirk as he
considered Xavier’s potential reaction were he to find out about Evan’s true
sexual preferences. The religious conservative Spaniard would probably spend
the rest of his days praying for Evan’s soul if he knew of Evan’s appetite for
sexual dominance—an appetite that hadn’t been satisfied for too long.

Dan stared at the pilot for a moment.
Then he turned to Evan. “She has assets we can work with. I’ll call ahead and
make arrangements for a stylist.” He pushed buttons on his phone.

“You better find one that can work
miracles,” Evan grumbled.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against
the headrest, wishing he’d had time to stop at the club for a short scene last
night to take some of the edge off, instead of studying every bit of
information Dan had put under his nose.

Letting the drone of the helicopter
overcome his senses for a brief respite from the responsibilities of running a
multi-billion dollar conglomerate, Evan pretended he was back on the racetrack
and the engine noises he heard were coming from his prized car, but trying to
block out his rising anxiety about his upcoming meeting with Xavier in San
Miguel was futile.

The importance of securing this deal
weighed heavily on Evan and made his stomach clench. It was the biggest
challenge he’d faced yet as the new head of Mitchell Industries, and he felt
wholly unqualified for the task. His inner Dom growled in frustration,
demanding to be released on a willing sub.

Chapter Two

“
You want
me to do what?” Cassie spun around and stared at Dan Jacobs as she tried to
make sense of his ridiculous request. Her fist tightened around the rag she’d
been using to wipe down the helicopter.

“Mr. Mitchell needs a dinner companion
tonight. I would like you to accompany him,” Mr. Jacobs explained, standing
next to her on the roof of Nippon Securities in Boston.

She groaned. “You want me to be his date?
I can’t.” Shaking her head, she resumed polishing the bird, the familiar smell
of engine oil and cleaning solution calming her.

She hoped Ron wasn’t listening to this
conversation from the other side of the helicopter. She really wanted her
copilot’s respect, and being viewed as the boss’s plaything on the very first
day of her new job was not conducive to earning her coworker’s esteem.

“You have other plans this evening while
we’re in Boston?” Mr. Jacobs asked, obviously not accepting Cassie’s first
refusal.

“Yes, I’m sure there’s something on TV
that I
must
watch,” she said and instantly regretted her smart mouth. It
was that same battiness that had got her in trouble on a regular basis with her
former Dom.

Even though Mr. Jacobs wasn’t her direct
supervisor, he
was
the executive assistant to the owner of the company
and certainly had enough clout to get her fired.

He pulled himself up a little straighter,
which seemed impossible as he always stood with perfect posture. No slouching
for this paragon in a business suit. “As an employee of Mitchell Industries, I
am insisting you offer your services to Mr. Mitchell at dinner tonight.”

Her mouth fell open at the meaning behind
the older man’s formal words. She whipped around to face him. “Just because I’m
talented at handling a stick between my legs on this bird, it does not mean I
am willing to offer my
services
to Mr. Mitchell at dinner or anywhere
else. You hired me to fly this helicopter, and that is all I plan to fly.”

How could this be happening to her again?
She’d done everything she could to act and dress professionally. She’d even
worn this hideously ugly suit, yet the boss was still propositioning her…by
proxy this time.

Mr. Jacobs’ face remained impassive, but
his ears glowed bright red against the contrast of his white hair. “I
apologize, Miss Maynard. I, in no way, meant to imply this request was anything
other than a dinner invitation. I am very sorry.” He practically bowed as he
backed away from her. “I will have to come up with another solution.”

He looked so repentant she nearly felt
sorry for him. “Solution? Why is it so important that he have a dinner date
tonight?” she asked, letting her curiosity get ahead of her intellect. She had
a history of acting impulsively when someone needed help, and she was treading
on dangerous ground by continuing this conversation.

Mr. Jacobs stopped backing up and stood
at attention again. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke.
“Actually, Miss Maynard, if I may be honest with you?”

“Well, I certainly appreciate honesty
more than lies.” She stuck her hands on her hips while she waited for him to
explain.

He cleared his throat. “The dinner isn’t
as important as the question Mr. Mitchell has to propose.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she
glared at him. “Are we back to propositions again?”

He held up a placating hand. “No, no,
Miss Maynard. This is a business proposal.”

“I’m his helicopter pilot. Why would he
need to take me to dinner to propose something business-wise?”

Mr. Jacobs shook his head. “I’ve probably
said too much already. I should have let him explain this.”

“If you want me to go to dinner with him,
then you will explain now. I won’t be taken by surprise.” Her tone was clipped.
She wouldn’t normally speak to a superior this way—unless she was itching
for a spanking—but she wanted Mr. Jacobs to fully comprehend her stance.

His eyes lit up. “So, you’ll accept his
dinner invitation?”

“Tell me what he has on his mind, first.
Then maybe I’ll consider it,” she conceded.

If this really was just business, she
wasn’t about to turn away the chance to make some extra money that could get
her out of the hole faster. She hated that six months of unemployment had
emptied her bank account and forced her into deep credit card debt. Not that
she’d had all that much in her bank account to begin with.

She was a whiz when it came to engines,
but a dunce with money. It flowed through her fingers like motor oil, except
oil clung better. Working in a war zone, she’d faced how fleeting life was, and
she’d spent money freely. She’d lived for the moment.

Moving to New York City had given her a
better chance of finding work as a private pilot—and was far away from
Chicago—but shit, it was so expensive. She was maxed out, and her rent
and her car payment were overdue. Plus, she had the responsibility of repaying
the loan she’d co-signed for her recently deceased Army buddy, when he’d wanted
to surprise his wife with a new car. There was no way she could deliver the bad
news to Jeff’s widow that he still owed fifteen grand on the family’s minivan,
not when Marilyn and her two kids were barely getting along as it was on his
death benefits. Until Marilyn got steady on her feet, Cassie planned to
continue making the payments as best she could.

“Mr. Mitchell has business in San Miguel
this weekend,” Mr. Jacobs began when he realized he had Cassie’s attention.

“Yes, I know. I’m flying him to Logan in
the morning, where he’s meeting the company jet. Then I’m taking this bird back
to New York.” She patted the sleek side of the company’s helicopter.

“Yes, well, this weekend is supposed to
be a combination of work and pleasure.”

Uh oh, this was not sounding like
something she should get herself involved with at all. Not with her newly built
earthquake-proof wall separating those two spheres of her life.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jacobs. That isn’t
something I would be interested in,” she said, putting an end to the
discussion. She turned back to wiping down the helicopter.

“He just needs a female companion,” he
continued, obviously not accepting her refusal, “to accompany him to San
Miguel. No hanky-panky involved.”

Cassie nearly cracked a smile at proper
Mr. Jacobs saying “hanky-panky”, and she tried to imagine him saying some of
the toy names from the world of BDSM—nipple clamps, butt plugs, whips,
floggers… She had to stop herself before her resolve to steer clear of that
world weakened. Just the thought of those toys had her getting soft in the
knees and warm between her legs.

“This is a very important deal for Mitchell
Industries. You would be doing a great service for the company.” He paused as
if to give weight to his words. “Would you please consider dinner with Mr.
Mitchell, so he could fully explain it to you?”

She cursed mentally. Her first day on the
job, and she was practically being forced to go to dinner with the boss. Not
that he was an ogre to look at or anything, but she’d wanted this job to turn
out differently than her last one.

Behind her, she could feel Mr. Jacobs
watching her intently, waiting for her response.

She looked over her shoulder at him.
“Don’t tell me the fate of the free world rests on my decision.” She couldn’t
resist the tease. The man was much too serious.

The corners of his lips slid slightly
upward, rewarding Cassie for her quip. “No, Miss Maynard, only the future of
Mitchell Industries.”

“Right, and my status as an employee, I’m
sure.” She blew out a discouraged breath and glanced down at her ugly suit. “I
don’t have anything to wear.”

Mr. Jacobs’ eyes seemed to twinkle in the
sunlight. He’d won, and he was enjoying this in his quiet way, while keeping
his face fairly emotionless. “I will arrange to have several dresses brought to
your hotel room for you to try, along with someone to do your hair and makeup.”

“A dress will be fine. I can do my own
hair and makeup, thank you.”

He looked pointedly at her tightly pulled
back hair and cosmetic-free face. “I’ll send someone in any case.”

“Fine,” she capitulated, working hard to
not take offense at his unspoken criticism. She could always refuse the styling
services in the privacy of her room without the indomitable Mr. Jacobs in
attendance.

“Very good.” Mr. Jacobs nodded. “When Mr.
Mitchell is finished with his meeting here, you will fly him to the hotel,
where you will dress for dinner.”

“What about the bird?” Her original
instructions were to drop Mr. Mitchell off at his hotel. Then she and Ron were
to take the helicopter to the airport and find cheap rooms nearby.

“Ron?” Mr. Jacobs called to the other
side of the helicopter.

“Yes, sir,” Ron answered readily, which
surely meant he’d listened to the whole embarrassing conversation. He walked
around the tail blade to join them, a grin on his face.

Oh, yeah. He’d definitely heard
everything—so much for maintaining the proper image with her co-worker.
She could only imagine what kinds of thoughts were going through his head.

“Can you take the helicopter to the
airport and secure it for the night on your own?” Mr. Jacobs asked.

“Of course, sir.”

“Good.” Mr. Jacobs turned to Cassie.
“Everything is set.”

Great, then why did she feel like she had
just signed on to the last mission of her new job? Why couldn’t she have kept
her big mouth shut and allowed Mr. Jacobs to find another solution?

She went back to cleaning the helicopter
as the voice of her conscience whispered in her ear.
Because you’ve never
backed down from a challenge, and you’re looking forward to sitting across the
dinner table from the owner of Mitchell Industries to hear his business
proposal, especially because he gives off the intense energy of a natural Dom.

Groaning internally, she admitted the
truth behind the words as she wiped more vigorously at a smear on the side of
the bird. Why did she always end up tangling with the cute boss? At her age,
she should be able to use the discipline she’d learned both in the army and the
dungeon to keep herself safely on the other side of the street, far away from
temptation. But her neglected inner sub was jumping up and down at the
possibility of finding a new Dom.

Silly, silly little sub. Only heartache
waits at the end of that path.
Yet, the internal warning wasn’t enough to keep her from anticipating her
dinner with Evan.

* * * *

Several
hours later when Cassie sat across the white clothed table from Evan Mitchell,
she was glad she’d submitted herself to the stylist Mr. Jacobs had sent to her
hotel room.

Once she’d slipped on the burgundy silk
dress and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she’d felt at a loss for
how to polish the rest of her look. Having been self-taught in the feminine
arts, she was certain she couldn’t match the classiness of the dress, and she’d
yielded willingly to the expertise of the hair and makeup professional.

Apparently, it had been worth the
surrender because Evan seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes off of
her. The pushup bra that had been sent over with the V-neck wrap dress gave her
enough lift that she displayed a shadow of cleavage, and she was secretly
thrilled with the effect.

Evan’s glance skimmed her with
appreciation in his dark eyes, sending ripples of pleasure through her veins.
She felt utterly feminine, a sensation she avoided in her vanilla life where
she spent most of her time trying to blend in with the men. She couldn’t
remember ever feeling this graceful outside of a D/s scene.

When Evan had appeared at her hotel room
to escort her to the limo, his freshly showered scent had made her momentarily
forget this was a business meeting as her body reacted on a purely physical
level, warming to his masculinity. Her female parts had tingled at the sight of
his powerful build accentuated by his charcoal suit and navy shirt, and how his
black hair, curling over his collar, gave him a slightly roguish look. But it
was his perusing gaze that had really lit the fire inside her.

Here in the restaurant, Evan stared at
her across the table as if he were trying to see inside her thoughts. His eyes
seemed intent on penetrating through her newly acquired feminine façade,
filling her with both apprehension and excitement as she anticipated his
forthcoming proposal.

When she began to feel uncomfortable
under his close scrutiny, he spoke. “I appreciate you agreeing to have dinner
with me on such short notice.”

Taking a sip from the sparkling water in
her glass, she glanced around the elegant five-star restaurant and the tables
filled with posh-looking couples. “Thank you for the opportunity to dine so
tastefully tonight.” Setting down her glass, she added, “It sure beats a
pepperoni pizza out of a box in a motel room.”