Page 40 of The Billionaire and I

The Windsor sistersdidn’t scare me. As far as I was concerned, they could go die in a hole. They had money, but I had more money. They had time on their hands and an axe to grind, but I had all the best lawyers and all the best everyone else. I could bury them. Iwouldbury them now that they’d gone and pissed me off. I didn’t like how they’d spoken to Jenny. They were going to pay dearly for their transgression.

No, the Windsors weren’t my concern. But if they could find out about Jenny so quickly, so could other people. And therein lay the problem.

While Jenny washed off her makeup, I checked my phone. And there, just as suspected, were several more text messages from Kevin, my father’s assistant. These were ones I couldn’t ignore.

Me again. He asked me to send this:

There was a picture of me and Jenny from the party.

He wants to know who the girl is. Between you and me, he already has someone looking into her.

Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll deal with it.

Sighing, I turned my phone off. This was what I’d been worried about. If Florence and Greta found out about Jenny, so could my father. And he was way worse than my nosy neighbors.

I stared out at the night sky, thoughts racing. My “girlfriend” was a hooker. So what? What would he do with this information? Would Daddy call the police on me? I doubted it. He needed my professional connections. On top of that, AccommoDating’s Madam had assured me that their business was perfectly legal—on paper. So, what did I have to worry about? His approval? My father hadn’t seemed to approve of me for a long time…

Florence and Greta Windsor wanted to get me evicted. That was straightforward and, therefore, easy to combat. But my father… He was a hell of a lot trickier than my douche-y neighbors. I’d been fighting him for years and still hadn’t figured him out.

I didn’t say a word to Jenny as she climbed into bed and snuggled beside me. What was the point? I didn’t want to make her upset. It wasn’t her fault that the Internet existed. It wasn’t her fault that people on message boards talked and that if you looked hard enough, you could probably find out anything about anybody.

It wasn’t her fault I’d hired her.

“Good night. Thanks for another great day.” She nestled against my chest.

“Thank you.” I kissed the top of her head.

“Are you tired…?” She yawned but tried to hide it.

“Hell yes, I’m tired. We had sex, like, six hundred times today.” I laughed. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay, Coley. Good night.” Jenny stilled and fell asleep almost immediately, lightly snoring. She took up more than her side of the bed. Far from annoying, I found it charming as she burrowed deeper under the covers and against my side.

Warm protectiveness surged through me. Poor Jenny. The Windsors were such bitches.“We have to keep the riffraff out, you know?”What the hell did Greta or Florence know about anything? Jenny still hadn’t told me about her life, but it didn’t take much imagination to figure out. It probably hadn’t been too cushy.

My neighbors pissed me off; my father exhausted me. Part of me wanted to ignore his inquiry, ignorehim. I was my own man. I made my own money, and I had my own life. It didn’t matter to me that I’d paid for a fake girlfriend. In many ways, it was the best money I’d ever spent.

But another part of me knew that my father would use any leverage he could to his advantage. It was only a matter of time. Dodging his inquiry wouldn’t make him go away—he only got more demanding when ignored.

Unease settled over me as I fell into a restless sleep. For once, I seemed to have more problems than theThunder’scrappy defensive lineup. That wasn’t how I liked things. I’d built my world so that I wasalwaysin control. I was the boss, the dealmaker, the giver and taker-away-er of good fortune.

So why did I feel like things were getting away from me somehow?

After tossing and turning, I rolled over and looked at the clock: three a.m. Ugh. I threw my arm around Jenny, holding her warm body beside mine. I only had her for a little while. I should enjoy our time together. Still, something nagged at me. I couldn’t fall back asleep; I wasn’t at ease.

“I’m fucking crazy about her.”Those words had slipped out of my mouth and into my best friend’s ear, and they were the truth. Iwascrazy about Jenny. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. If we were near each other, my arm was around her. The sex was incredible and had been from the first go. But more importantly, I genuinely liked her.

I put my face against her skin and inhaled her coconut scent. Why did she smell so good? I didn’t know. I just knew I wanted to hold her body next to mine and just…keep holding it.

I had no idea what to do with that information. I’d never stopped running away from women long enough to like one of them. And I didn’t even know if she liked me back.

Jennyseemedto enjoy spending time with me. But then again, I was paying her a small fortune to act like she was into me. Maybe she was a great actress, but I felt a real connection between us. In the scheme of things, what did that mean?

I was a billionaire who valued my freedom. She was an escort. People like us didn’t exactly live “normal” lives that involved 2.5 kids and a house in the suburbs.

Maybe I could buy her a condo, I mused. Possibly, Jenny could be my “kept woman,” or whatever they used to call it. I could send Shirley out to buy her groceries twice a week and sleep over on the weekends. Jenny wouldn’t have to work at the agency anymore. She could just sit in her condo and…sit in her condo.

I filed away the confusion swirling in my brain, vowing to ponder it another day. Like never.

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