Page 1 of His Deluxe Service

Prologue

I was never the type to marry money. I was smart, driven, and poor. My manners are deplorable. My fashion sense, non-existent.

Then I met Rob Michaels, the billionaire owner of ExploreR. He loved me in a way no one ever had before- with complete abandon and faith. He gave up everything to be the good man I knew he could be and do the right thing for his company and the world.

After only a few months, he trusted me enough to hand over his company to me and his Public Relations Officer, the impregnable ice-queen Anna Talova.

Suddenly, through lust, love, and more than a few lies, I was married to a billionaire and running the most high-tech company in Silicon Valley. My face, airbrushed to death, was plastered on every magazine.

I had more power than I ever dreamed of, or wanted, and my husband was hotter than hell and adored me. Our life was a swirl of scientific discoveries, exotic vacations, and comfortable fabrics. All doors opened before me and my superstar man.

I couldn’t get comfortable. I was never the type to marry money. Then I did. I was never the type to betray my husband, either.

Then I did.

Chapter One

The plane ride to the private island was extravagant. We were finally able to honeymoon, after Rob’s legal mess had blown over.

But with everything so busy at work, I couldn’t really justify just going away and having fun in the sun with him. Playing on the beach sounded lovely, and imagining the type of playing he wanted made me start breathing heavy, but I just couldn’t leave work for that long.

So we doubled up the honeymoon as a work getaway. Rob rented a private island (we rented it, I guess. Having our finances be joint felt weird still) and invited the top level managers of ExploreR to come and take workshops, yoga classes, and drink martinis on perfect white sand.

We were carpooling, in a way. Anya Talova, President of Marketing and Public Relations, was on the other side of the plane, a row up from us, sipping bubbly water and nibbling a croissant.

The plane only had six seats, not including the ones up front for the crew. It was a private jet, with enough leg room in between each seat to fit an air mattress.

Not that anyone on a plane like this would dream of using an air mattress. Not when there was an actual bed in the back.

A bed I had to make it very, very clear to Rob I would not use when Anya Talova was onboard.

She was a consummate professional. She managed to cover up her model-thin hotness and perfect face with such a layer of seriousness that you felt bad for even looking at her. But it was hard not to look.

Her cheekbones looked like they would cut your lips if you kissed them. Her slender form curved like she was painted by an expert in abstract forms. She only wore perfectly fitted suits and high, high, high heels.

Her sharp cheekbones and pale gray eyes were offset by a tight, completely controlled bun of white-blonde hair. All of her limbs looked like ice picks, and she was incredibly tall, almost too tall for the plane seat.

If she was ever anything but cool, calm, and collected, I would think she was uncomfortable in the seat. But she sat up perfectly straight, managing to not even drop crumbs on herself, though she had a linen napkin draped across her lap.

I always felt frumpy next to her with my oversized breasts and stumbling gait. I had a blanket over me, which covered up the stain of champagne I’d already spilled on myself during takeoff. I often looked for signs that Rob was checking her out, but he never did.

He was checking me out. He nearly always was, unless he was thinking about work.

Technically he wasn’t running ExploreR anymore, that was me and Anya’s job, but he still ran his capital investment firm, InvestoR. It kept him plenty busy, investing primarily in cutting-edge environmental and communication technologies.

Anya had set aside her napkin and empty glass, slid her tray table away, and pulled a blanket over her thin frame. She let her head hang back on the pillow, but besides that, her posture stayed the same.

Rob’s hot breath appeared on my ear. “Somebody is asleep,” he said, his hand sliding over my thigh, “But somebody else is wide awake.”

I put my hand on his, halting its movement. “Rob,” I whispered softly, “We can’t. It’s inappropriate with her in the room.”

“It’s not a room, it’s an airplane,” he countered.

I very gently slapped him. He chuckled and leaned back.

When he smiled, his canines slipped out over his lip. Like baby vampire teeth. I tried not to look because they drove me crazy, and if I saw him smiling like that, I’d want to kiss him.

I thought he was sleeping but his hand was tip-tapping over my thigh again. Quick as a snake, it dove against my pants. They were smooth and silk, so there wasn’t much between his fingers and my thin panties.

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