Page 72 of Billionaire Romantic
Holy fuck.
His apartment is unreal. Expansive, airy and opulent beyond belief. The natural light is to-die-for. That’s my first impression. My second is, it’s a little stark. A little too rich-bachelor-pad-who’s-hardly-ever-home. I could transform this space into something even more comfortable for him, and equally luxurious.
A wall of windows showcases a view of a twilight sky, a few treetops down below, with only a few hints that we’re even in a city at all. We’re high up. Outside, there’s an enormous patio with a pool, a hot tub with lights that show the rising steam, and a covered outdoor seating area. “Not too shabby, Mr. Maddox.”
“Thanks, Ms. Irish. I’ve been meaning to hire a high-end interior designer. Maybe you can help me with that. You can have free rein, we’ll contact whatever the best design magazine is, get you the feature, and just like that you’re on the map.”
There he goes again, poking at all my secret wildest dreams, like he’s so good at doing.
There’s a buzz at the door. “That must be Bruce.”
“Bruce?”
“My lawyer.” Noah sets me carefully on the couch. “I would kiss you right now because you’re so unbelievably beautiful it just about blows my head off, but that would get me rock hard again and I’m about to let my lawyer in. Before I do, let me just say that I’m right here by your side. Just say yes to all of this. Stay right here.”
“All of what?”
Noah smirks but says nothing. He goes to the door to open it. A man who could only be a lawyer—and a very expensive one—strides in.
“Bruce Davis, meet Lucky Ashton.”
I stand and shake his hand. Noah invites him over to the 12-seater dining room table next to the space-age chef’s kitchen. Noah’s arm is around me and he pulls out a chair for me, then pulls his chair close to mine so his thigh is pressed up against mine. None of this escapes his lawyer’s attention.
“This is a substantially different offer to your earlier one, Noah,” comments Bruce, if not concerned then at least curious.
“It’s a more realistic offer,” Noah tells him, his tone making very clear that he’s serious. His grizzly bear has gone full Kodiak. “We plan to turn Ashton Holdings into a powerhouse. This price reflects its potential. Do you have the paperwork?”
Bruce takes the contract out of his briefcase and slides it across the table.
The wording is exactly the same as the scrawled note Noah wrote this morning. There are a few more pages of legal jargon. And spaces for both our signatures.
“Do you need to consult with your own lawyers, Ms. Ashton?” asks Bruce.
“No.” I’ve never liked my company’s lawyers, chosen of course by my father. They never seem like they’re very good at their jobs.
Bruce nods. “I took the liberty of contacting your CFO for the bank deposit information. Once you sign, the money will be transferred into the Ashton Holdings’ account within minutes. Do you have any questions?”
I look at Noah. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” The look on his face is soin loveI can’t bring myself to hesitate when it comes to anything about him.
I pick up the pen and sign it. Noah does the same.
Bruce keeps his expression strictly professional. Even if he quietly suspects that his client has lost his mind, he doesn’t show it. He slides another pile of papers toward me. “This is the otherpaperwork you requested, Noah. The transaction has been made and the sale is final. Ms. Ashton, your deed.”
“Deed? What deed?”
“Your apartment building,” Bruce says.
“What apartment building?”
Noah nudges his shoulder against mine. “The one you live in. I bought it. In your name.”
“You bought…the wholebuilding?”
“Bruce has created a trust for you,” Noah says. “We’ve called it Lucky Irish Holdings.”
“A trust?” My brain can’t keep up with what they’re telling me.
