Billionaire Romance: Spencer's Obsession (A Seductive Alpha Billionaire Romance Book 1)
Read Billionaire Romance: Spencer's Obsession (A Seductive Alpha Billionaire Romance Book 1) Online
Authors: Kaycee Kline
Copyright
© 2016 by Kaycee Kline
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people or places is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations used for review.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex, language and violence. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
BONUS PREQUEL
SPENCER FORD.
He’s Handsome, Powerful and FILTHY RICH.
There’s just
one problem…
He’s almost too good to be true.
So, what’s his SECRET?
CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR FREE COPY!
1
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“Ms. Prescott, I presume?” inquired a warm, but stern voice.
I looked up from the magazine I had been reading in the foyer of Ford Enterprises' sprawling downtown office. I was expecting the voice to belong to an assistant of Mr. Ford's, but
Oh my goodness!
Did I just let out an audible gasp? His icy blue eyes pierced straight through me. Was it really possible that this gorgeous and chiseled man could be my new boss? He looked more like he belonged in a Calvin Klein ad (wearing as little as possible), not some towering office building running around in a suit. Although, he did wear it quite well, I had to admit.
I snapped myself out of my daydream and stammered out a barely audible response, “Uhh…uhm. Yes. That’s me. Uh, I mean I’m she. Mr. Ford?” I cringed at my words and cast my eyes downward to avoid his gaze.
I managed to catch a very small smirk playing at the corner of his gorgeous and perfect mouth and I fought the urge to reach out and touch it.
“Yes, but please do call me Spencer. I like to keep things rather casual around here. At least for my favorites.” His eyes seemed to twinkle playfully at me as he extended his hand. I assumed it was for me to shake, but instead, in one strong and brawny swoop he had smoothly pulled me up to a standing position.
For a brief moment we were merely a few inches apart and the air felt thick and heavy as his eyes burned deep into mine, almost as though he could see into the depths of my soul. I felt vulnerable so I turned my eyes away, breaking the electrical current that had started to run through my body.
Who was this man and how did he have such a strong hold over me already?
Spencer placed his hand on my lower back and led me around the corner down a long, marble corridor with mirrored walls and doorways. I felt like I was in a museum and didn't dare touch anything. We stopped abruptly at the end of the hallway and he reached forward with his right arm, opening the glass door in front of me, his left hand still lightly burning into my lower back.
“After you,” he said with a warm smile as he held the door open for me.
Those eyes.
God, he was gorgeous
.
Uncomfortable with the thoughts I was having about my new boss, I broke eye contact, instead focusing on the details of the room. As I looked around, taking it all in, I noticed something strange. “Wait…are the walls and doors two-way mirrors?” I inquired, surprised.
“They are, Ms. Prescott. I like my privacy, but I also like to feel a little voyeuristic every now and then,” he winked. I blushed at the sexual undertones of his statement and quickly turned my head away once more, scanning the rest of the space.
“Oh and...I was hoping you’d clarify,” he laughed.
“Uh, what do you mean, sir? Clarify what?” I asked as he offered me a seat at a large glass conference table in front of a wall of windows that overlooked all of Crystal Cove. It was an absolutely breathtaking view and I felt like I could just sit here for hours, watching the beauty unfold in front of me. But his words interrupted my mindlessness.
“Whether you’re a
Miss
or a
Mrs.
…Emily Anne Prescott,” there was that smirk again from him as he took a seat at the head of the conference table, just to my left.
He caught me off guard with his words and forwardness. “Excuse me? Why would you want to know that?” I blurted out. My heart raced at the thought of having to explain myself. Did I really need to tell him? I mean, technically I
wasn't
married. Did being engaged count as the same thing? Surely he didn't need to know my whole life's story.
“Well, you left that section blank on your tax paperwork and it’s quite important. I’d hate to get hauled off to jail over a simple clerical error,” he replied, amused by my accusatory tone.
Duh! How could I have been so naïve? Of course a handsome billionaire like Spencer Ford wouldn’t have seriously been interested in someone like me.
Really, Emily? Get over yourself.
I'm sure he dates supermodels in his spare time, which you clearly are not.
I glanced down at my ring finger, where my beautiful and sparkling engagement ring had been placed just a few weeks before, although it seemed like it was a lifetime ago already.
I had gone home to Shady Oak for Spring Break to visit my family in anticipation of landing this internship. I knew if I didn't take the opportunity to go back and visit, it would probably be months before I got another chance. And although it was really great seeing my friends and family, my longtime boyfriend, John, decided it would be the perfect time to propose to me. Right in front of my entire family. I honestly wasn't expecting it and I'm still trying to process how I feel about it all, but I felt really bad for John in that moment and I couldn't bear to break his heart and embarrass him in front of everyone.
So, when he got down on one knee and asked me the question that most girls would die to hear...well, I simply shook my head in agreement, even though every part of my being was screaming at me to tell him no. That's the thing about me: I have a hard time saying no and more often than not it gets me into a lot of trouble.
My reaction probably wasn't quite what John had been anticipating, but it was all I could muster. And ever since coming back to the warmth of the West coast and the comfort of the house I shared with my best friend and roommate, Bridget, the whole engagement had been out of sight, out of mind. I knew it sounded horrible, but I couldn't help it. And since the ring was off being resized, it was easier than ever to pretend it never even happened.
I looked up at Spencer Ford, my charming and potential new boss and started my interview with a harmless lie—or so I thought.
“I'm definitely not a Mrs.,” and as the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't help but glance at his ring finger to see if he had a Mrs. of his own.
Spencer smiled at this newfound knowledge and nodded happily, “Ah, well I will go ahead and check the 'single' box for you then, here on your paperwork.”
If I hadn't known any better I'd think that he seemed slightly pleased with this news—giddy, even. And I couldn’t say I was heartbroken to see that he wasn't wearing a wedding band, either.
“Thank you, Mr. Ford. I mean, Spencer,” I corrected as I gave him one of my sweetest smiles.
“Good girl. You learn fast. I like that in new hires.” There he went again with his all-knowing stare, making me feel uncomfortable, but at the same time it felt nice to be desired. If that's what this was, anyway. I did have a bad habit of blowing situations—and my emotions—way out of proportion.
Sitting here under what seemed like his scrutiny, I became highly aware of my appearance and what each part of my body was doing at any given moment. Although I was dressed in a business professional LBD, it still didn't seem appropriate. After all, his suit had to have cost thousands of dollars, whereas on the other hand, my clearance rack Shop N' Save find hardly seemed to measure up.
I was used to feeling less-than, though. After all, I was attending a college that had one of the wealthiest student bodies in the nation: Crystal Cove University. Coming from a small town in Illinois to the lush beaches and beach homes of the West coast was definitely a culture shock.
Most of the students at CCU wouldn't have to worry about shelling out thousands of dollars on a new wardrobe for their internships this summer, but I wasn't so lucky. I mean, I loved my parents, but they were by no means wealthy and when it came to helping me out I was pretty much on my own. The only reason I was even able to attend CCU is because I lucked out and landed a huge academic scholarship that covered most of my expenses. Otherwise, I would have been at a state school like most of my friends.
That's one reason I was so looking forward to this internship at Ford Enterprises. Not only did it
pay,
which was practically unheard of in the world of internships, but it paid
well.
Not to mention, the boss was quite handsome and easy on the eyes.
Just an added bonus,
I thought to myself.
“Alright, Miss Emily Anne...shall we get this interview started?”
As he asked this seemingly innocent question, I couldn't help but feel like maybe my answer would determine the fate of the rest of my life.
So I bit my lip and looked Spencer Ford right in the eyes. “Ready or not,” I said with a smile.
2
After the interview was over, I stood up from my seat and held my hand out for Spencer to shake.
When he gripped my right hand—not so tight it hurt, but strong enough to feel slightly possessive—I felt that electrical shock run through the lengths of my body again.
What was wrong with me? I was engaged and already I was being swept off my feet by a much older man—not to mention, uhm, he was probably going to be my boss. Talk about awkward! And I didn't even know if he felt the same way about me, which I was sure he didn't.
Shit.
Spencer was staring intently at me, his lips upturned to show amusement. He must have been saying something to me.
“What was that?” I asked, blushing at the fact that I had been so lost in my own thoughts I had completely blocked out what he'd been saying to me. I hoped I didn't appear too scatterbrained. I mean, I usually didn't act this way, it's just that Spencer had me under some sort of a trance or something and I couldn't help but be lost in my thoughts in his presence.
He laughed a little, staring into my eyes and said, “You got the job, Miss Prescott. That is, if you still want it.”
I squealed with delight, despite my best efforts to be subdued and I flung my arms around him in a hug, jumping up and down a little. A wave of excitement rushed over me and I just reacted. It probably wasn't the most professional response, but I couldn't help it. After a few moments of hesitation, I suddenly felt Spencer's arms wrap around me as well, his hot breath on my neck and in my hair. He was so close to me that I could feel his chest inhale with my scent and slowly exhale back out.
He spoke into my ear, softer this time, “So I take that as a 'yes'?”
I nodded and then became aware of how close we really were to one another when I heard a
knock, knock, knock
on the glass door to the conference room. I gasped and pushed myself away from Spencer, so quickly that my feet got tripped up on one another and I teetered on the edge of falling over. Before I lost my balance, Spencer threw both arms out to steady me, grabbing me by my shoulders.
“Woah, there. Are you okay?” he mused as he looked into my eyes, lowering his head significantly to be at my level.
“Yes, I just...I'm sorry. That was completely inappropriate for me to hug you like that. And now I look like some weirdo to whoever
that
is,” I gestured toward the door.
Spencer laughed again, “Emily Anne...that's a two way mirror, remember? Even though you can see everything out there clear as day, no one can see in.”
I felt incredibly dumb and threw my hands to my face. With a slight groan I said, “Oh...yeah.” Even though I knew he was telling the truth, logistically it just felt unnatural and hard to believe, but it did make me feel slightly better knowing that the moment we shared was still just between us. I definitely didn't want my reputation around the office to be ruined before I'd even started work.
Knock, knock, knock,
louder this time. Spencer leaned forward and pressed a red button on some kind of call box in the middle of the conference table. He composed himself and then spoke, “I'll be right there, Denise.” I glanced over at this
Denise
woman. She seemed a little agitated, but kept her composure even though I'm sure she had better things to do than wait on me.
I balked as Spencer glanced up at me, running a hand through his slicked back hair, confused by my reaction.
“What, are these rooms sound proof as well?” I asked playfully, expecting a laugh.
Instead he replied, “Of course they are. I don't leave any detail to chance. I like my privacy, Miss Prescott.” He winked at me, causing me to bite my lip in embarrassment at the implications of his statement.
“But really...are you okay?” He touched my arm, seeming genuinely interested to hear my reply.
“Yes, of course—sorry. Especially now that I know I don't have to worry about being labeled the “office slut” before I even start the job,” I grinned.
He laughed a little and let his head tilt back, his mouth open slightly. “My goodness, Emily Anne! You've a mouth on you, now don't you? I didn't realize you were so feisty. I might live to regret offering you this job,” his eyes twinkled at me, giving me the impression that he knew he wouldn't regret it at all.
In his presence, my confidence was growing and I began to feel comfortable around him. Which was crazy, considering I had just met him a few hours beforehand and it usually took me
months
to feel this at ease around someone—especially guys. I chalked it up to my introverted personality type.
Spencer placed his left hand on my lower back again, barely grazing the surface of my black faux silk bargain dress and made a sweeping gesture toward the door with his right hand, “Right this way. I'll show you back to the elevator,” he said as he opened the conference room door.
I shuffled out past (an incredibly patient) Denise as Spencer followed, letting the door close behind him. We all stood there awkwardly as Denise gave me an unsure and tight-lipped smile, along with a slight nod of her head.
“Oh, yes! Denise, this is Emily,” he said as he placed his right palm against my left shoulder blade. “She'll be our new assistant intern starting Monday.”
He turned to me and explained, “Denise is my most prized receptionist here at Ford Enterprises.”
“Nice to meet you,” Denise replied curtly, nodding to me, but not quite looking at me. She didn't seem very amused by the whole interaction. On the contrary, she seemed rather annoyed.
“Mr. Ford, I really need to get home,” she continued. “My husband called and said there's some sort of emergency with the kids and that I needed to get there ASAP. I just wanted to let you know before I stormed out of here. I didn't want you wondering what happened. Oh, and the other applicants have gone home. I let them know that we’ll have to reschedule, but it seems that won’t be necessary,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“Of course. Sorry about that. You’re an angel! And no problem, Denise. You know you don't have to stick around anyhow. It's almost 6 o'clock. How many times do I have to tell you if I'm on the phone or in a meeting and it's your time to go, then just get out of here?” Spencer said with a smile, touching her shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll pay you for your extra hour. But seriously, get on home.”
Denise smiled at him and bowed her head in appreciation. “Thank you, sir. I'll see you on Monday,” she said as she quickly turned and clicked back down the long hallway to the reception area.
“It was nice meeting you,” I called out and she gave a small wave with her left hand above her head.
Spencer and I stood there in the hallway staring at one another as we heard Denise shuffling papers and grabbing her purse from the front desk. There were a few more clicks of her heels against the marble floor and then a
ding
of the elevator opening and then closing and then…finally only silence.
As I looked at Spencer and he looked at me, we suddenly burst out into laughter. The situation hadn’t really been all that funny, but neither of us could help it. And the more we tried to suppress it, the worse it became. After a few minutes of solid giggling, we were able to catch our breath and regain composure.
“Well, I guess I should be going since it's after hours and all. I didn't mean to keep you so late. Everyone else has already gone home?” I asked, a little surprised.
“Yes, 5 o'clock on the dot,” he smiled. “You know...these interviews usually only last me about a half hour tops,” he admitted with a hint of guilt. “I guess I'm the one to blame for keeping
you.
”
I was shocked, I mean...was he admitting to me what I think he was? Not to mention, he had had other interviewees scheduled and hired me without meeting anyone else. “If I didn't know any better, Spencer Ford, I'd wonder if you had a thing for me,” I giggled, my newfound bravery taking me by surprise.
He stared intently at me, not saying a word, and then closed the distance between us in what seemed like an instant. Spencer reached out and touched my face, then, his long fingers brushing my skin, sending shivers through my body, his touch stirring inappropriate thoughts and feelings inside of me. After all, whether I wanted to admit it or not I was still engaged and I couldn't just throw that fact out the window, no matter how much I wanted to in that moment.
I stepped away from him without warning. A look of confusion and concern flooded his face as his eyes searched mine for answers. I didn't know what to do or say, so I simply turned on my heel and ran quickly down the long marble corridor that still smelled of Denise's perfume.
As I rounded the corner to the empty receptionist area, I forced myself to not look back at him. I was afraid that if I saw the look on Spencer's face one more time that I wouldn't have the strength to stay away. I heard his deep, velvety voice call out to me, but I was too far away now to catch what it was. I rapidly jammed the 'down' arrow on the elevator, praying it would open as fast as possible.
My heart was about to beat out of my chest. It seemed like an eternity before the doors finally opened up and welcomed me into the comfort of the elevator. As I dashed inside and hit the button for the bottom floor, I could hear Spencer's footsteps quickly approaching the waiting area, knowing he would be rounding the corner at any moment.
Finally, the doors started to close but not before I heard him call out, “Emily! Please wait.” It was too late, though. The doors had slammed shut and I was going down, down, down.
I had to get out of there. I felt bad for not explaining to him, but I couldn't. He wouldn't understand and I didn't trust myself to not give in to his intoxicating spell.
As the elevator doors opened, I ran out into the empty lobby of the Ford Enterprises tower and made a mad dash to the bustling street, running through pedestrians and dodging cyclists. I didn't stop until I was back at my car about a block away.
I unlocked my door and slid down into the driver's seat, letting my whole body slump into a puddle. I wanted to become as small as possible in case Spencer was out on the sidewalk somewhere, looking for me. I mean, I didn't really figure he was, but I didn't want to take any chances, either.
As I let my breath out, I realized I must have been holding it the entire time and I gasped for air. I was also covered in sweat, since, you know, “silk” wasn't the most ideal or breathable material for running in.
Good thing I only paid thirty bucks for this dress
, I thought to myself.
As I sat up in my seat and put my key in the ignition I noticed a slip of paper on my windshield, tucked neatly under my wiper blade.
Ugh, why can't it be illegal for restaurants to spam your car windshield?
As I got out of the car to remove the advertisement, I noticed it wasn't a stupid restaurant ad at all: it was a stupid parking ticket!
Seriously? As if this day couldn't get any worse.
I looked at the bottom of the ticket and read the amount that was owed: $340.
What? Oh, my God! This is ridiculous. For what?
I didn’t have this kind of extra money just lying around.
I searched the ticket for the reasoning code.
Disabled parking without a sticker. Oh, no no no!
I got down on my hands and knees to look underneath my car. Sure enough, etched into the concrete in white paint was that familiar symbol.
I groaned out loud and threw my hands up.
Great. I was in such a hurry to make it to the interview on time and not look like an idiot, that I made myself look like an even bigger idiot. Of course. No wonder the damn parking space was empty!
I had driven around for like, thirty minutes trying to find parking that was even remotely close to Ford Enterprises and still ended up being a block away in a handicapped space and now I was going to have to pay for it.
There went the money I had managed to save up for my new work wardrobe. I walked back around to the driver's side door and got in, slamming the door shut behind me as I hunched over the steering wheel in a heaping pile of hopelessness.
So far,
I thought to myself,
Spencer Ford was more trouble than he was worth.
And I had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.