Page 157 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
I lean forward and shut off the car radio. What a bunch of twerps those two were, firstly the attraction between them was off the charts. Secondly they had no idea about it and were clearly dancing around it, all but punching each other in the face with the force of the tension building between them. Thirdly… well… if they didn’t sort it out they were going to blow up on the show in front of everyone. No doubt smack each other in the face before smacking each other on the lips. Ha! I snort aloud. Good to know my sense of humor was somewhat alive… especially considering I had to spend the evening fixing up security on the boat of Mr Full of Himself Douchecanoe. Arpad f’ing Beauchamp. A man whose demeanor was every bit as pompous as his name. Yeah he came from old money, la-dee-dah, like I cared, but to see him stomp around with that giant stick up his ass you’d think he was conscious of his status even single second of his life. Which he admittedly was. Which was why he’d ordered me to get to his boat and fix the security camera on it that had stopped working before he set sail to whichever island it was he was sailing off to next.
Lifestyles of the rich and famous and all that.
Some of us minions had to spend our evenings working, others partied till dawn then sailed off into the sunrise. Of course so I was his security consultant and admittedly he and the rest of the Seven paid me a lot… like a l-o-t enough for me to leave my life in LA and move to London and ensure that their security detail was top notch.
The Seven had been kidnapped as pre-teens by the Mafia. They had escaped but not without the psychological scarring that came with that kind of experience and a life-long goal to get even with the perpetrators; with it the need to guard against any kind of fall out, i.e. the Mafia attacking them or their loved ones not to mention the fact that a few of the seven had met and married the women of their dreams ergo; more people to protect from a security stand point, which meant… I had never been busier. From finding the right talent to add to my team, to constantly upgrading the security details for the ceremonies when any of them decided to get married, the last being Damian, the rockstar who married his almost-nanny and produced a single that had knocked the socks off every single critic and countdown chart.
So yeah, couldn’t complain, my bank account was happy… which means I should be happy, only I am not. I am not one to rest on my laurels, not one to bask in my success… I know what I wanted next, a family of my own. Good news is that I was already working on it.
In fact I had a date tomorrow night to fire the first salvo in that direction. No pun intended. I snort aloud. I just had to get through this last chore on my list and then I could get some rest and be ready to get started on this latest project.
I ease the car into the parking lot of St. Katherine’s Dock, then grab my bag with all my tools and head down the line of gleaming vessels. Trust London’s wealthiest to bag a spot in the center of London to park their toys. I search for one yacht in particular… what had he called it?
Heartbeat.A weirdly sentimental name for someone who was known as Killer… not because he killed in real life but for the killing he’d made as an Angel Investor. Yep, that’s how Arpad f’ing Beauchamp had made his money.
Investing behind those who had the ideas but not the finance wherewithal to bring them to fruition. He had a knack for spotting talent I’d give him that…. And that’s all I’d ever concede and definitely not to his face. The man had a mean streak a mile wide, if any of our brief interactions was any indication. Rumor has it he didn’t even spare the women he dated… but then the women he was interested in were known for their taste in men who took charge in the bedroom… and pushed things beyond the point of comfort to put it mildly. Good thing I wasn’t one of them.
I prefer my men amenable and food spicy. See, the thing with food? It never let you down. Finding the best restaurants in town and eating out was a particular fancy of mine. Table for one please, oh yeah, nothing like the silence of my own company to unwind in the evenings. I wasn’t lonely, just alone, and there was a difference between those two words now, right?
I reachHeartbeatand clamber overboard, then walk over to the cabin and key in the password. Letting myself in I glance around and press what I think is the light switch. Bingo. The door locks shut behind me as I glance around the space. Whoa, this was a yacht? More like a floating mansion. It had seemed reasonably sized from the outside, but in here… wow! I walk down the steps to the sunken living room. Plush leather seats span one entire side, with a coffee table in the center, and a flat screen on the opposite wall. I walk through to a kitchen with a galley and an island table. The gleaming kitchen equipment was top of the line and would rival any five-star hotel I was sure. Not that any of it has ever been used, of course not. Mr Alphahole here would never deign to step into a kitchen, he probably travelled with an entire crew to fetch and carry for him. Bet he spent his time jerking off to porno that he’d watch on that screen while he shoved his hand down his pants and… please… argh! Don’t go there.
I walk past the kitchen and push the sliding doors apart to find omg! A complete full furnished massive bedroom. Complete with a king size bed that took up almost all the center of the room. On the far end a door that I assume leads to the bathroom. There’s a second door beside it that must lead to a walk in closet? Huh, did he have one on the boat as well. On the other side is a table and next to it a neat pile of what looked like a rope, tacked to the wall. A rope? Huh, how weird.
I glance around the room, take in the massive sliding doors beyond it showed a view of now darkening water, rays of sunlight from the setting painted the sky a burning red and orange.
I stare at the bed again…leave, turn and leave, right now.Come on, surely a sniff won’t hurt, hmm? Also there are no cameras in the bedroom, so he’ll never find out right? I cross the floor, walk around the bed and run my hands across the pillow. Soft… Egyptian cotton thread count innumerable no doubt. Only the best for the asshole after all. I grab a handful of the sheet and pull it up to my nose. Notes of bergamot and cloves, cinnamon and something dark, musky, edgy… something dangerous. I’m instantly wet, what the hell?
How can his scent turn me on so? And when I loathed the man? And his attitude, and his entitled mindset. The way he thinks he could boss me around, and expect me to drop everything and prioritize him beyond anything. A shiver runs down my spine. Only my sense of hate getting the better of me, of course. That’s why my stomach flutters, that is the only reason my heart beats so fast in my chest. Shit, now I was turning myself on, and that wouldn’t do, not hen I had work to do. I pivot, then retrace my steps toward the cabin, and head for the captain’s area. There at the extreme right I pull up the controls for the security camera—there’s only one and it’s focused on the doorway, there’s a second one focused on the living room. Of course they are used only when the boat was docked. I get to work fixing the controls… and am done in fifteen minutes. There, that was easy. It took more time to drive here through the late evening traffic.
I stretch and yawn, suddenly tired. It’s been a long day, long week, long year actually setting up business in this city. But I am in a good place, confident my business was going to do well. I pack up my tools, head for the door, then hesitate. Should I? Why not, it shouldn’t matter. I pivot head back for the bedroom, when fireworks go off outside. I glance out the large windows and admire the spectacle. So damn beautiful. If only I had someone to hold my hand while I enjoyed it. Nah, doesn’t matter. I have me… don’t I. I yawn again. Shit, I really as beat. I turn, pass by the bed, then hesitate. Wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, huh?
Surely, the a-hole wasn’t going to come back before the morning and I’ll be long gone by then, right? I place my bag on the floor next to the bed, toe off my shoes, then slip into bed… on the side where I am sure he sleeps where the scent is most potent. I draw up the covers to my chin and OMG. Goosebumps flare on my skin, It’s as if I am surrounded by him, as if he’s cocooned me with his body, and he’s all around me, with me, in this bed. A delicious warmth envelops me, I close my eyes and let sleep take over.
A loud creak tears through the silence in my mind. I sit up, my heart pounding in my chest. My pulse rate ratchets up. My eyes strain through the darkness. Where the hell am I? The entire room seems to tilt. I scream and slide off the bed. I hit the ground on my ass, roll over to hit the glass wall of the cabin. I turn press my nose into the transparent barrier and stare out. Darkness broken only by the white tipped foam that crashes again the side. I scream, scramble back until I hit the bed. The boat. I am on the boat which is no longer harbored. It’s at sea, with me on it. The entire yacht creaks again, the walls seem to groan the boat lurches up and I hold onto the edge of the bed, anchor myself as it seems to grunt and screech like a living thing, then straightens. Silence, for a second. The hair on the back of my neck rises, I smell the ozone in the air, then the boat groans, and hurtles down.
The momentum carries me forward toward the wall. I throw out my hand, manage to grab the edge of the bed, hold on a the boat seems to sink through space, then hits something—the water I presume?— with a crash. The sound echoes in my ears, reverberates down my spine. Then the vessel tilts in the opposite direction. I glance out the window of the cabin and scream again. Water. So much water, I am surrounded by a wall of water. What the hell is happening? How did the boat get here?
I hit the ground on all fours crawl my way up to the door. Grabbing the handle I pull myself up, then twist the knob open. I lurch forward as the entire boat goes into another incline. Damn it. I race forward, throw myself onto the couch in the living room and hold on until the boat rightens again. Then cross the living room, up the steps toward the captain’s cabin. That when I see the man silhouetted against the wheel.
He’s wearing shorts that cling to his tight ass. And what an ass it is. The fabric outlines the indentation on each side, only to stretch across the girth. The waistband shows off his inverted V figure and his back… I gulp. The planes of his back flex and buck like a living thing as he grips the wheel of the boat, widens his stance and leans into the next wave. The next wave… OMG it's a huge, huge WAVE… I glance up and cry out as I realize he’s driving the boat straight up the crest of a monster of a wall of water. There’s a crash of thunder, then lighting flickers beyond the boat and I gasp again. An entire sea of darkness, capped by a furious whites, and in the foreground his massive shoulders that bunch and knot as he grapples with the wheel, holds the boat on course.
Another clap of thunder in the distance, and the alphahole—for it is him, Arpad f’ing Ahole, the bloody owner of this boat, my crazy ass employer, my frigging boss who’s driving this boat straight into the storm.
He throws back his head and laughs. What the hell? Is he crazy? Does he have a death wish or something? I stomp forward to ask him just that, when the boat groans and begins to slide back, taking me with it. My legs seem to go out from under me. I scream as I hit the decking and roll back. The boat pitches and I am thrown against the wall. Darkness envelops me.
When I open my eyes again, I am back in the bed, in the bedroom of the boat, the sheets pulled up to my chin. Huh? Was it all a dream? I sit up and my pain slices through my forehead. I groan, fall back against the pillows.
"Take it easy." A low voice rumbles across the space. I glance over to meet familiar gray-blue eyes. "You?" I cough. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"It’s my boat?" He leans forward and my gaze takes in his bare chest, the sculpted eight… no.. ten… no, twelve pack? Nah… not possible no one has a eight pack do they?
"Enjoying the view...?"
I tip my chin up, meet his gaze.
"I’ve seen better." I lie.
He chuckles, "You must be feeling better, though I admit I preferred it when you were flat on your back in my bed, naked."
