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Scandalous Billionaire (Titans Book 5) Page 2
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No doubt she would have pulled something off a hanger and thrown it on as she left her house—except for the fact that the world’s most annoying billionaire, Braden Gallagher, had lit up her entire world yesterday.
It had been years since she saw him, and her reaction to him had shattered her.
In her late teens, on the cusp of womanhood, she’d had a crush on the older, more sophisticated boy. What girl wouldn’t? Especially one who came from a much poorer background.
Braden had it all. He was gorgeous, came from a perfect family, had a beautiful home where everything—air-conditioning, even heating—worked perfectly at the flip of a switch. Every part of his life was charmed. Not only did he get good grades, he was the captain of the football team. It seemed he had a different girlfriend almost every week. And numerous colleges sent him coveted acceptance letters.
As if that hadn’t been enough to capture her schoolgirl fantasies, he was kind to her. She didn’t see him much, mostly because he wasn’t at his home when she was there with her mom. After school, Lizzie’s aunt would sometimes drop her off at the Gallaghers’ house. Once Lizzie finished her homework, she helped cook dinner. If he didn’t have a game or practice, he’d hang out in the kitchen too.
One time, he’d arrived home from graduate school while she was showing off her prom dress for her mom.
She’d been embarrassed when he came in with a couple of friends, but he’d told her how pretty she was and how lucky her date was.
He and his friends had grabbed water and sports drinks from the refrigerator before heading out to the pool, but he’d stopped at the door, looked back over his shoulder, and smiled at her.
Lizzie had almost swooned. His words, quick as they were, gave her more confidence than she’d known in her entire eighteen years.
Even though she now had a degree of her own and a successful career, she was shocked to discover he still held enormous power over her.
Having him find her in his closet had been humiliating. If she were smarter, she would have pushed past him and escaped back down the stairs.
Instead, she stayed, every part of her wanting to be near him, soaking up his attention.
Braden was impossibly tall, so much broader than she remembered. And he was unbelievably fit, without an ounce of fat anywhere. His dark hair was a bit on the long side, making him appear rakish. But it was his eyes that startled her. They were a grayish color, not quite green but not really blue. They were more like steel when it glinted in the sun.
Power cloaked him, and he wore it with as much ease as he did his tailored suit.
He was right, also, when he accused her of snooping.
She had been, and her lie had been brazen, and of course he’d seen right through it. While she had no real-world experience with the things in his third drawer, she was curious. A few of her friends were into it, and the ones who were married seemed to have authentic and deeply connected relationships. But she’d never met anyone she was interested in trying it with.
If Braden had arrived a few seconds before he did, he might have found her tracing her fingers over the skeins of silky white rope.
That hadn’t been what kept her awake for most of the night. His kiss had done that.
His fury at her words had left her reeling. She’d been reminding them both of her station in life, as well as seizing on any excuse to get away from him. The more she talked, the angrier he’d gotten. The first demanding moments when he’d held her tight had thrown her world out of its neatly structured orbit, and she hadn’t known how to react. No man had ever been that physical with her before.
Lizzie’s father had abandoned her mother while she was still pregnant. Because she’d seen how hard Eileen worked to make their lives better, Lizzie had kept herself focused on school, then work. She hadn’t avoided men intentionally. Rather, she refused to let herself fall into emotional traps. Her girlfriends did plenty of crying over boys who hurt them, and some of them continued to do so. Lizzie was different. She was looking for a commitment. Love wasn’t enough for her. She wanted a man who was steady and would respect their wedding vows. Eventually she wanted children, and she expected her husband to be an engaged father. And she let her dates know that early on.
Which made her behavior with Braden unfathomable.
He was the absolute last man on the planet she should kiss.
Behind his back, he was called the Scandalous Billionaire for a reason. He was often featured on gossip blogs, paired with different women. Rumors swirled about his liaisons, and once, he and a female companion had been caught in a compromising situation as his limousine had arrived for a massive Mardi Gras party on Galveston’s Pier 21. Unexpectedly, a hired greeter had opened the back door before Braden and his companion were ready. Though they brazened it out, pretending nothing had happened, there were pictures, fortunately blurry enough for the couple to deny that it was them in the photo.
If Lizzie was going to choose someone to break all of her self-imposed rules with, she should select someone who wasn’t a cad.
Unfortunately, last night he’d curled her toes as no one else ever had.
“Girl! What are you doing in there? I want to see the dress!” Crystal, her friend, pounded on the door, no doubt annoying the hell out of the very professional sales associates at one of Houston’s exclusive boutiques at the shopping mecca known as the Galleria.
Stalling, once again lying to herself that she wasn’t trying to impress Braden, Lizzie spun a slow, critical circle in the dressing room mirror.
The little black gown was stunning. The material fit her hips tightly, and the back had a slight V cutout. With its capped sleeves, the dress was simultaneously enticing and sedate.
“I mean it! Open up, Lizzie!” Crystal began knocking again, with every bit as much power as before.
“Okay, okay!” With a quick twist of her wrist, Lizzie unlocked the door.
“Girl!” Crystal exclaimed.
“Does that mean you like it?”
“Damn right I do.”
The dress was shorter than Lizzie normally chose, and she tugged down slightly on the hem.
“Don’t you dare do that. Show off them legs. That’s why you drag me to sweaty yoga three days a week.”
Actually, Lizzie went mainly to quiet her mind so she could escape the stress of her demanding job. The physical results were a bonus. “It’s hot yoga.”
“You call it anything you want. After five minutes, there’s even underboob sweat. And I swear you’re a masochist. The Painmaker is brutal.”
Her physical trainer wasn’t exactly a pain maker, but close enough. At first, she and Crystal had gone together. Then one time, while doing a pushup, Crystal collapsed into a heap on the mat and announced she was never doing that again. She went to the locker room and never walked through the door of the fitness center ever again.
“Look at yourself. You totally rock that dress.”
Lizzy wrinkled her nose. Even though she worked out, her body wasn’t close to perfect, but the cut of the dress accented all her positive attributes and downplayed the ones she was most critical of. The dress was meant for her.
“Are you going to buy it?”
The saleswoman breezed in and bubbled over with effusive compliments. Crystal rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip.
For a third time, Lizzie looked at the price tag. Really, she should wear something already hanging in her closest. But after yoga and a quick shower followed by a trip to the coffeeshop, Crystal suggested they go shopping—not that either of them needed an excuse.
“You know what they say,” Crystal started. “Don’t look at the amount. Figure out how many times you’re going to it wear it, and calculate the cost that way. So, if you go to another five parties, the dress is…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suck at math. But it’s practically free.”
“You’re no help.” Not once had her friend tried to talk Lizzie out of buying something. Crystal was a world-class instigator, seem
ing to get as much pleasure out of Lizzie’s purchases as she did herself.
“But you dress up all the time.”
She did. Lizzie worked for the Sterling brand of hotels, and she worked on opening new properties for the chain. As part of her job, she attended numerous events where they hosted exclusive parties for event and wedding planners. They also did soft openings for the bars and restaurants, and those were also upscale. At the beginning of a job, she’d be in a hardhat. By the time she was ready to wrap it up, she was in tall heels and gowns.
“I’m telling you this.” Crystal leaned forward, going for the kill. “If I wanted to do the dirty with Braden Gallagher, I’d buy it.”
Lizzie gasped. “I don’t want to sleep with him!”
“Uh-huh.”
Okay. So maybe she did.
Wrinkling her nose, she gave herself one last critical stare.
“You’re getting it, aren’t you?” Crystal whooped.
Nerves skidded through her tummy. “Yes.” There were a dozen reasons she shouldn’t. Braden Gallagher was dangerous. His kiss had been possessive—frighteningly so. And while he’d held her close, his erection pressed against her. He wanted her, and she wanted him.
For the first time in her life, Lizzy was feeling reckless.
Chapter Two
“You look absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
Lizzie froze as Braden captured her wrist. Then gently he drew her away from the party, behind a potted palm where they’d be safe from the glare of the lights and prying eyes.
Lost in his gaze, she couldn’t breathe.
Everything except Braden disappeared. The music spilling from inside the house and voices from the partygoers on the pool deck fell silent, replaced by the sound of her rushing heartbeat.
“I’ve been waiting all evening for a chance to be alone with you.”
As Lizzie dressed and applied her makeup earlier in the evening, she’d been hoping for this reaction. And yet… Just like yesterday, being the focus of Braden’s attention overwhelmed her. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking.” She was fairly certain she knew exactly what was going through his mind. “Dinner will be served in a little while, and there are things I need to take care of.” Though his mother had hired an official event planner, Lizzie was helping out, and there were myriad last-minute details that still needed to be handled.
“You’re wearing that dress for me.”
She gasped, hoping to hide her reaction. How had he seen through her so effortlessly? “I did not.”
“You most certainly did.” His grin was slow and confident. “And I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the moment I first saw you tonight.”
Though she’d never admit it, that idea consumed her as well.
Because she knew parking would be at a premium, she’d decided to use a car service rather than driving herself. Braden had waved off the attendants hired for the evening and strode over to help her from the vehicle, as if she were one of the guests.
He’d stolen her breath.
Yesterday, in a suit, he was handsome. Today, in a tuxedo, he was devastating. There were any number of beautiful socialites at the event, but he only had eyes for her.
He leaned a little closer to her.
“Braden…”
“You’re a siren, sent to tempt me.”
Why her? Because she was off-limits?
“Kiss me, Lizzie.”
This time, he was asking. There was no anger behind it, and he wanted her to be the one to initiate it. The truth was, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. “I’ve never… I mean…”
“Fuck.” His voice was hoarse, gruff, maybe from anticipation or need. Regardless, it stirred an undeniable response in her.
Lizzie was wearing her highest heels, and she still had to lift up to brush her lips against his.
“What do I smell? Perfume?”
She didn’t normally wear any, but today she’d selected something light, with the faintest hint of honeysuckle, and she’d dabbed a little on her pulse points. “Yes.”
“I like it. Put your arms around my neck.” Instead of waiting for her to follow his instruction, he gently took hold of her and guided her into place. “Better?”
“Yes.” Again, with more confidence, she gave him another gentle kiss.
“Woman, your beautiful innocence might be the death of me.”
Unsurprisingly Braden then took control. He kissed her, but in a totally different way than he had last night. This time, he was gentle, coaxing a response rather than insisting on one.
She tasted something strong and masculine on him, perhaps whiskey.
As the seconds passed, she relaxed into him, and he pressed one hand against her back and tucked the other into her hair. When he invited her closer, she went. His groan of appreciation reverberated through her, daring her to be bolder, and she opened her mouth wider.
He pulled back long enough to meet her gaze, then seized her mouth again.
Was this how he made love? As if it was the only thing that mattered?
But what about the things she’d seen in his closet? She shuddered, imagining him wrapping her in that white rope and trailing the soft strands of the flogger over her body. From yesterday, she knew he wasn’t always gentle, but even then, he’d never lost control. So he might do more than caress her with the strips of leather.
Heat pooled through her. Who was this newer, more reckless Lizzie? She was seconds away from reaching for his tie and plucking the ends loose.
She was grateful when he ended the kiss and reached back to unlink her arms.
“We have to stop right this moment. Otherwise we’re leaving the party and never coming back.”
He was being rational. Thank God he was capable of it, because she wasn’t sure that she was.
With his thumbnail, Braden traced her swollen mouth. There was a tiny fairy light behind them, enough for her to see a glint from his ring. She glanced at the piece of jewelry, expecting to see his college insignia on it. Instead there was an owl on it, with tiny emeralds for eyes. Before she could ask about it, Braden spoke again.
“Don’t freshen up your lipstick. When I look at you for the rest of the night, I want to know I was the one who did it to you.”
Because she didn’t know what to say, she ran a hand across the front of her dress, then unconsciously tugged at the hem.
“I don’t want to get back. But people will be wondering where we are.”
His words were a splash of reality in her face.
This interlude had been stupid. What if someone had noticed him stealing her away from the party? His reputation would be fine. After all, his conquests were legendary. But she didn’t want to be whispered about.
He looked around the enormous plant, then glanced back at her. “It’s safe. You can go. I’ll follow in about thirty seconds.”
Suspecting she’d gone a little mad since yesterday, she tore her gaze away from his, then double-checked that there was no one around before stepping out and making a beeline toward the house.
“Elizabeth?”
She’d almost made it across the concrete patio when a familiar voice stopped her. Rafe? Her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her knees, she turned to her boss.
Rafe Sterling owned thousands of hotels worldwide, and she was fortunate to work for him. She’d only been able to afford to attend a community college, but she’d worked damn hard to earn good grades, and she’d won a scholarship to Houston’s biggest university.
A few years ago, his company founded the hospitality school that she’d attended. Students ran the Sterling University Hotel, as well as the restaurants and coffee shop there. It afforded an unusual learning experience. In her years there, she’d served in every position, from waitstaff, to housekeeping, to barista, cashier, to front desk clerk. She’d even been a bellhop and concierge. She’d particularly enjoyed her stin
t as a valet because she’d had the opportunity to drive both a Ferrari and a Lamborghini.
During the last year of her studies, she’d moved into management of various departments. And because she was at the top of her class, for the final months, she’d served as the hotel’s general manager.
Rafe himself had stayed there and had met with her.
After graduation, he’d offered her a job.
She’d spent a year abroad serving an externship of sorts, learning more about his business model and honing her customer service skills.
When she returned, Rafe approached her about moving into her current position. He’d told her it would be terribly demanding and cut her social life into tiny ribbons. But because of her experience in every facet of his operations, she was perfect for the job. It was only later that she learned that his other openers had fifteen to twenty years of on-the-job training.
Still, it was perfect for her. Houston was home. Since her next posting could take her anywhere in the world, she was determined to enjoy as much time as she could with her friends and family members. “Mr. Sterling! How nice to see you.”
“Rafe,” he corrected, as always. “Please.” He shook her hand. “The Gallaghers and Sterlings have been friends for years.”
That shouldn’t have surprised her. Both families were from old money, and no doubt they shared a social circle.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She would never be included on the guest list. At the moment, she was so far out of her depth that she wanted the world to swallow her whole. “My mother has been the housekeeper here for almost twenty-five years.” From the time she discovered she was pregnant with Lizzie, scared and alone. Lizzie shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of her boss, but unaccountably she was. “I’m here to help out.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
As always, Rafe Sterling was a gentleman, and she was grateful. “Is Hope with you?” She was referring to his fiancée, the renowned Houston matchmaker. Not only was Hope a strategic businesswoman responsible for a number of recent, high-profile weddings; she was as gorgeous as she was lovely. Having her here would ease the awkwardness.