Billionaire Romance Box Set: The Billionaire's Legacy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set Read online

  “Give me five minutes, then send her in,” I said. I quickly adjusted my packing plan to make it look like the office was at least somewhat occupied. I realized my running around had caused me to break into a sweat, though I knew part of the culprit was the thought of answering questions. I slammed a glass of water and wiped my forehead, then I sat down at my desk just in time to hear a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I called.

  The door opened and I looked up, expecting to see an eager, nerdy young man with a tape recorder and a notebook. Instead, Cassie walked through the door. My heart and my cock both skipped a beat as they hopped to life.

  “Cassie!” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  Confusion was written all over her face, and she flushed red. “Um, I’m here to interview the owner of Legacy…?”

  “You’re…” I shook my head and began to laugh. “You’re the journalist?”

  Her eyes widened in understanding. “You’re the owner of Legacy?”

  Cassie

  “You’re the owner of Legacy?” I exclaimed, standing in the doorway of the office. I stared at Brad and felt my entire body flush in excitement and arousal at the memory of our night that had ended, really, just a few hours before.

  He shook his head, not in denial, but in incredulity. He stood up and walked around the desk to where I stood in the doorway.

  “Come in, please,” he said, guiding me in and closing the door behind me. He smiled as he gestured for me to take a seat.

  “I’m Bradley White, owner of Legacy Luxury Hotels and Resorts.”

  I stared at him until it dawned on me; he was going to treat this as a fully professional, first time encounter. I took a deep breath, and he waited for me to catch up with him.

  “Yes, of course,” I said. “My name is Cassandra Young. I’m a journalist with Destination magazine, and I want to first thank you for taking time out of your incredibly busy schedule to meet with me today.” I smiled at him and tried to ignore the blush I knew was continuing to rise on my cheeks. I cleared my throat and looked back down at my notebook, trying to find some stability and comfort in the list of questions I had prepared.

  “I’m glad this works out,” Brad said. “I’m rarely here, so this was quite a fortuitous meeting.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “So, that kind of leads to my first question. First, though, do you mind if I record the interview?” I took my recorder out and set it on his desk.

  “Not at all,” he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his stomach. I had a flash of my lips on his stomach last night, and I looked back down at my notes.

  “Wonderful. So, my first question is, how many hotels do you have worldwide, and how do you go about managing them?”

  “Worldwide, we have nearly a thousand hotels as of today, with plans for another hundred and fifty before the end of next year.”

  “Impressive,” I said.

  “I manage them by employing not just people I know and trust as management, but also by hiring people who are local and who take pride in their community. The balance of my staffs is very carefully crafted, and it seems to be working. I also visit each hotel at least once a year.”

  “You visit all of them? That must mean you travel a lot. Do you have…” I paused, catching a stammer in my voice. “Um, do you have a wife? Children?”

  “I’m married to my work,” he said, and I flushed again, remembering when he’d said that exact thing to me last night. “It takes a lot of careful scheduling, but, again, I pride myself on being present for all of my hotel staffs. Treating the staff like family is the fundamental principle on which Legacy was built.”

  “And you don’t have children,” I said. I asked the question again because I noticed a shift in his energy, almost imperceptible. Call it a journalistic instinct, but there was something there.

  “No,” he said sharply. “I have no children. No wife. No family.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to push that.”

  His face softened. “No problem. What’s your next question?”

  “Where was the first Legacy hotel built, and why did you decide that a luxury hotel chain was how you wanted to invest your money?”

  I watched him form his answer. As a journalist, I’ve seen a lot of people tell the truth, but I’ve seen even more people lie. When people lie, they do a couple of things. If they’re actively lying, of course, there’s research that suggests their eyes will shift a certain direction. But, that doesn’t account for people who believe their own lies. There are also people who are practiced liars. I knew immediately that the answer I was about to get from Brad was not the truth. His eyes shielded over, almost as if he’d dropped a veil between us, and he began to recite a story of wanting to learn about other cultures and give people the opportunity to experience luxury on a budget… I wrote down his answer nearly word for word, but I didn’t believe a word of it.

  I studied him, trying to figure out if I should press him on it. My instincts told me now.

  “That’s wonderful,” I said instead.

  I asked him a few more questions, and he answered them. Some he answered more directly than others, but I didn’t get the sense that he was lying like he had been when I’d asked him what had led him to investing in the hotel chain to begin with.

  “I think my twenty minutes are nearly up, Mr. White, so I wanted to ask, is there anything you’d like me to include in the article? Any words of wisdom, any upcoming events, anything that would be of interest to my readers?”

  Brad thought for a moment. I watched his jaw flex as he moved his tongue against his teeth. He stared at a spot on his desk, then he looked directly at me.

  “Appreciate each moment of your life, and don’t wait until tomorrow to do the things you love.”

  “Deep,” I said.

  “Not especially,” he said. “People constantly find reasons to put off their vacations. No time, not enough money, can’t get a babysitter, don’t want to go alone. I want to give people permission to enjoy their lives… and to enjoy their lives here at Legacy.”

  I smiled. “Of course. Well,” I stood up. “Thank you for your time.” I reached out for my tape recorder and clicked ‘stop,’ then I reached out my hand to shake his. He reached his hand out as well, and his palm touched mine. I felt a jolt of electricity move through me, memories of the night before flooding my body, bringing the temperature of my blood up to boiling. I blushed a deep red, and willed my body to turn away from Brad and toward the door.

  “When can I read the story?” he asked as he walked me to the door.

  “Um, I haven’t completely cleared the dates with my boss, but my guess is it will be in the March issue. So, not this next month’s, but the one after that.”

  “I can’t wait,” he said, smiling broadly. I felt my smile in response to his.

  “Well, thank you again,” I said, awkwardly trying to get out of the office without making a complete ass of myself.

  “You’re very welcome, Cassie. But, since you asked me several questions, can I ask you one?” He was leaning against the door with his hand on the doorknob. Not keeping me in the room, but not exactly shooing me out, either.

  “Of course,” I said, breathlessly.

  “Can I see you again tonight?”

  Cassie

  I woke up, stretched, and smiled. I had woken up in this bed often enough now that I no longer felt any confusion upon waking. No glances at a strange ceiling wondering if I was home or away, wondering what time zone I was in. Instead, I found myself automatically reaching to the other side of the bed for the warm, steadily breathing figure I knew would be there. My vacation was finished; it had technically ended five days ago, yet I was still in Belize. Emma had returned to the United States, leaving me behind with a rescheduled, open-ended ticket. I had called my editor and said I was onto a huge story, that I had gotten an interview with the owner of the entire Legacy chain, and I needed a few ext
ra days here. She was thrilled, completely ecstatic. “How did you land that interview?” she’d asked in admiring disbelief. I thought for a moment about Brad rescuing me from the drunk guy on the beach, us having our passionate one night stand, then walking into his office the next day and realizing that my interview and my one night stand were one and the same. “I worked my magic,” I’d said to my editor. “He’s charming as all hell, and he’s giving me some great material.” After a half hour of waiting for my fate to be determined, my editor had called with the good news. I was good to go for another two weeks at Legacy Resort in Belize, and Destination magazine was footing the bill.

  Of course, I wasn’t paying any attention to the fact that I was technically now in Belize in my capacity as a journalist, and I blocked out any thought that I could be returning home soon; my full attention was only in that bed. Brad’s bed.

  “Good morning,” he sighed, rolling over to face me. His eyes lazily opened, and he smiled. I wondered if there would ever be a time when the combination of his sparkling eyes and smile didn’t send my heart pounding in my chest and breathless energy moving through me. I smiled back, sending a hope to the universe that the answer to that question was: never.

  “Good morning,” I said. I propped myself up onto one elbow and felt the sheet slide away from my breasts. The cool air incited a smattering of goosebumps on my flesh, and I felt my nipples harden in response to the temperature. I smiled at the flickering of his eyes toward my chest. “Eyes up here, Mister,” I said, a smile spreading across my face.

  “Eyes up there, fingers right here,” he said playfully, and he reached his hand to my breast, running his thumb across my nipple. My body responded immediately, a flush rising in my cheeks as my nipples hardened against his touch. “See how talented I am? With my eyes closed…”

  “If you insist,” I said, moving my mouth to his and kissing him. His mouth fit over mine perfectly, and I felt my body begin to melt into a state of bliss. He replaced his thumb with his palm, and the contrast of heat and cool on my breast sent a shiver through me.

  His phone buzzed from the side table and he groaned. “Dammit, what now?” He rolled away from me and I sighed. Every morning had been the same. Though, to be fair, Brad was definitely sleeping in a lot later than he normally would have. It was nearly seven in the morning; usually, Brad had told me, he was up and into the daily action by five.

  Something was up this time, though. Brad held the phone to his ear and almost immediately sat straight up in bed. He stood up and moved quickly to get his clothes.

  “How close is it?” he asked. “How much time do we have?” He dressed and walked out of the bedroom. I could see him in the living room, standing at his desk turning on the computer and clicking online.

  I sat up in bed and wrapped the sheet around my chest. I looked at my phone and saw a text from Emma.

  Are u ok? The message said. I was an hour behind her in central time, and she had sent the message two hours earlier.

  Yes, why? I replied.

  Thank God u answered. Check the news. Huge storm. Headed your way. How much longer will u be there? Her response was immediate.

  I frowned, then looked back up at Brad. He was looking at me. He mouthed “Business” to me and pointed at the computer. I nodded and held up my phone, letting him know I was occupied as well.

  A few more days, I texted back. Not sure.

  U may be there longer than u think. Hurricane warnings. Belize in direct path.

  I felt my eyes widen and I looked out the window, seeing for the first time the swaying of the palm trees and the windy activity that was far more than just a morning sea breeze. I got out of bed and dressed quickly, then walked out to the living room to join Brad.

  He was looking at the weather online, a circling, moving radar that showed Belize in the direct path of a category five hurricane, scheduled to make landfall in less than forty-eight hours. I put my hand on his shoulder and he jumped, as if he’d completely forgotten I was there. He smiled and put his arm around me.

  “I understand,” he said into the phone. “We need to make it happen. The shipment is coming whether we’re ready or not, and, if we don’t have a place to put it, well, I don’t need to tell you how bad that will be for us.”

  I stepped away from him and moved into the kitchen to make coffee. One thing I had learned over the course of my time with Brad was that he needed his space when he was talking business. I had first slept with Brad two weeks earlier, interviewed him the next day, slept with him that same night, and we’d been together every night since then. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say I knew him yet, I was starting to get a feel for his habits. When he was with me and his phone was off, he was the consummate gentleman, paying for dinner and showering me with affection. When he was talking business, he was edgy, full of tension. He would pull away from me not only as if I wasn’t to be privy to his conversations, but as if I was an actual spy, sent to eavesdrop on his business transactions and report back to an enemy. The first few times it had happened, I’d pouted, acted mad. Now… now, I made coffee.

  I poured two cups and doctored his with cream and sugar, just as he liked. I brought it to him and set it on the desk without making eye contact. He was in a terse conversation with either the same person he’d been speaking with or someone else. I felt a ball of tension fill my stomach; today was not going to be an easy day.

  I took my coffee, straight black, onto the lanai. The wind was shocking, blowing a combination of hot and cold air, mingling with the occasional raindrop. Based on the clouds rolling in, we were in for a stormy day. I sat on a chair anyway, and watched the wind create huge whitecaps on the water. The power of the ocean never ceased to amaze me. There were a few brave swimmers trying to take on the waves, but I knew that, if the waves continued to build, in another hour or so the beach and the water would be deserted. All of the tourists would migrate inside, to the restaurant, to the bar, to their rooms, and the island would look like it was completely deserted.

  “I have some bad news,” Brad said from behind me. I turned. He stood in the doorway to the lanai with his coffee in his hands.

  “I know,” I said. “Hurricane. Emma texted me from New York.”

  “It’s bad,” he said, sitting next to me. “The radar says it’s a category five, but I just got off the phone with one of my advisors and he said that it’s supposed to be at the upper end of a category five. It’s more likely than not that we’ll be evacuated.”

  “To the states?” I asked.

  “Not at this point,” Brad said, shaking his head. “It’s too late for that. We’ll get shuttled back to the mainland and they’ll determine a place for us to be. Right now, it’s looking like we may be okay toward the center of Belize, but it’s a several hours’ drive, and that’s once we get to the mainland itself.”

  “What do we do?” I asked. I was trying to stay calm, but alarm was rising in me. The air felt wrong somehow, different. I couldn’t believe all of this had happened in the time since we’d gone to bed last night.

  “You’re going to take a shuttle to the mainland. I’ve arranged for one to pick you up in two hours. Pack only what you need; you can leave everything else here.”

  When Emma had flown back to the states, I had moved all of my belongings into Brad’s room. We agreed it made sense to open a room up for new guests, but, the truth was, we both just wanted an excuse to be together.

  “You’re coming with me,” I said. Statement, not question.

  “No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t. I’ve got…” he paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve got an important shipment coming in from overseas. I need to be here for it. And, for the work that needs to happen to prep for its arrival.”

  “What are you talking about, you’re not coming with? That’s insane, you’ll be killed!” My voice rose and the tension that had been building within me finally exploded. “My ass you’re going to send me alone on a boat to
the mainland and stay here. That is not happening.”

  I saw a flash of anger in his eyes and I knew I’d gone too far.

  “I’m going to try to keep from saying something I don’t mean, here,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You and I, we are nothing. We’re not in a relationship. You don’t get to dictate where I go or what I do. You have no idea what will happen if this shipment falls through, if it doesn’t arrive, or if I’m not here to receive it. Now, I’m having a great time with you, but that will all come to a screeching halt if you don’t mind your own fucking business.”

  He was squeezing his coffee cup hard enough that his knuckles had turned white. I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Fine,” I said. “Die here. Go ahead. It’s not like I’m some possessive girlfriend not wanting you to go out with your boys to the strip club for the night. There’s a fucking hurricane about to pound down on us. Excuse me for giving a shit and not wanting you to get blown away into the ocean.” I set my coffee down and walked back into the room. I stalked into the bedroom and began throwing my stuff into my suitcase. I paused, breathless, staring at the heap of clothes. How on earth had they fit into my bag in the first place?

  “You know what?” I yelled to the empty room. “Fuck you! I’ll find my own way back.” I grabbed my purse and my phone, left my stuff, and walked past a stunned Brad out the front door. I slammed it extra hard, and then I walked down the hall. I waited to the count of ten for him to follow me.

  He didn’t.

  Brad

  I stood in my living room wondering how what had promised to be a very satisfying morning had ended up in such a disaster. Cassie had just stormed out, and I couldn’t even take ten seconds to go after her, no matter how much I wanted to. The hurricane was bearing down on us, and, if it arrived even close to when it was scheduled, I was in a shit ton of trouble.