EXPOSE (The Billionaire's Rules, Book 6) (2 page)

As he gave these instructions, the woman
put out her cigarette and started towards them.
 
“I need to talk to you,” she said, her
voice pleading.
 
She was wearing a
very chic dark coat and sunglasses, and her hair was pulled tightly back in a
ponytail.
 
“Please, don’t ignore
me.”
 
Her voice broke in
midsentence.

Cullen walked stiffly forward, motioning
for Ivy to stay close.
 
He didn’t
respond to the woman.

Ivy couldn’t help but look at her.
 
Was she an ex-lover?
 
If so, why was Cullen behaving so
heartlessly towards her?

The woman raised her voice, stepping in
front of them now on the walkway.
 
She pulled her sunglasses off and Ivy was alarmed to see the dark
circles and bags beneath her eyes.
 
It seemed to add two decades to the woman’s age.
 

“It’s getting worse,” the woman said to
Cullen.
 
“If you won’t help, I don’t
know what else to do.
 
You have to
at least try.
 
Please, help me.
 
Please.”

Cullen didn’t respond, but she wouldn’t
move.
 
Finally, he addressed her in
a formal sounding tone.
 
“Move
aside.
 
I will call the police if
you continue harassing me.”

“Why won’t you even try?
 
Why do you act as if it all means
nothing to you?
 
Are you really as
cruel and uncaring as they say?” she asked.

“I told you to move.”
 
He stared at her for a long while, and
she reluctantly stepped aside.

“I’m going to wait here day and night
until you acknowledge me.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a long time.
 
Better pack a lunch,” he called back,
without looking.
 
Moments later,
he’d unlocked the door and allowed Ivy in.

Ivy turned to watch the woman from just
inside the doorway, unable to keep
herself
from
staring.
 
It was somehow awful, but
also fascinating.

“Don’t engage her,” Cullen whispered,
before shutting the door hard and spinning the deadbolt.
 

He continued walking, bringing Ivy’s bags
down the hall and to the bedroom she’d stayed in the other night when she’d
slept over.

Ivy was surprised that she was staying in
that room again.
 
She’d assumed he’d
have wanted her to stay in the master bedroom with him.
 
And that made her stomach churn with new
anxiety.

As usual, Cullen Sharpe called all the
shots and answered to no one.

Ivy went and opened the curtain on the
front window and peered out, seeing the mystery woman lighting a new cigarette
and standing on the walkway.
 
The
woman turned and spotted Ivy watching her from the window.
 
The woman gave a small wave and then
brought the cigarette to her red, heavily painted lips.

Ivy let the curtain fall back into place
and moved away from the window, her heart beating fast.

When Cullen reemerged from the bedroom,
he looked as calm and blasé as ever, despite knowing he had a stalker out front
of his home.
 

“Hungry?” he asked.

“No, I’m not hungry,” she told him,
feeling a knot of frustration in her belly.
 

He shrugged.
 
“I’ll make you a fruit plate,” he
said.
 
“You should eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.
 
Do you ever listen or do you just make
assumptions?”

Cullen froze.
 
“That sounds like disobedience.”
 
He shook his head and his expression was
one of disgust.
 
“How many times can
I explain I won’t tolerate your tantrums before I’m forced to use more
convincing methods?”

Ivy decided to change the subject.
 
“Why did you put my bags in the guest
room?” she said.

“Because, that’s your room,” he said,
exasperated.
 
“Would you rather I
put them in the bathroom?”

“Why don’t you let me stay in your room?”

He put his hands on his hips.
 
“We’re not having a discussion about
this subject.”

“Actually, we are.
 
It’s happening, Cullen.”

“No, Ivy.
 
It’s not.”
 
He turned and walked into the large
kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and began taking out various bags and
containers of fruit.

She followed him into the kitchen.
 
“You stayed in my bed all night with me
last night,” she said.
 
“How is that
different than me staying in your room?”

“It just is,” he said, peering into the
fridge and then finally closing the door.
 
He walked to a knife rack on the granite counter and took a blade out,
then grabbed a large cutting board and put it on the counter beside the fruit.

“You’re unbelievable,” Ivy told him,
walking closer as he turned his back towards her and began chopping fruit.
 

“Nothing I’ve said or done is the least
bit unexpected.”
 
Cullen was
chopping like a professional chef.

“I want to know who she is,” Ivy
said.
 
“That woman you’re ignoring
who keeps showing up here.
 
Is she
an ex-girlfriend?”

“She’s nobody of importance.
 
And she just needs to realize that.”

“Well, I think you’re being a real
asshole to her.
 
And to me.”

Cullen froze again and his broad back
seemed to expand.
 
“I think perhaps
you should go to your room.”

“No.”

He turned and gave her a steely
look.
 
“I don’t intend to interact
with a child.
 
I’ve brought you into
my home, shown you my hospitality—“

She barked a laugh that shut him up.
 
“You call this hospitality?
 
A crazy woman standing out front, who
you won’t tell me anything about
?
 
Putting my bags in the empty room and
telling me I get the wonderful privilege of sleeping alone every night while
you’re nearby, refusing to be with me?”

Cullen went back to chopping fruit.
 
“Go to your room.
 
I’ll deal with you later.”

“Fuck that.”
 
She turned and walked away from him,
fuming mad.
 
What made her angriest was
that she’d started to think that Cullen actually felt something.

I
thought he might be falling for me.
 
How ridiculous and naïve.

Now it was all too clear he was just
playing his usual games.

Ivy suddenly realized what would really
get his feathers ruffled, and a vengeful smile came over her face as she
quickly strode to the front door.
 
She turned around and saw that Cullen was still chopping fruit.
 
He’d assumed she would listen to his command.

But now she was unlocking the dead bolt
and throwing the door open.
 

As Ivy walked outside, the mystery woman
spun, her expression surprised.
 

Ivy closed the door and walked slowly
down the steps.
 
“Hi,” she
said.
 
“I don’t know who you are,
but I thought I should at least introduce myself.
 
My name’s Ivy.”

She extended her hand and the mystery
woman took it, as she blew a cloud of smoke out of her mouth and away from
Ivy.
 
Up close, the woman looked to
be perhaps in her early forties, but perhaps she’d had work done.
 
Her face was undoubtedly beautiful, but
deep sadness had sapped her of any real charm.
 

“I’m Peg,” the woman said.
 
“Peg Woodhouse.”

“Nice to meet you, Peg,” Ivy said.

“Is he coming back outside or did he send
you to do his dirty work?” Peg asked.

Before Ivy could answer the woman, the
front door opened again and Cullen stepped out.
 
His face was pale, with splotches of
high color in his cheeks.
 
He walked
slowly down the steps towards them.

She expected him to yell, say something,
scold
her viciously.

Instead, Cullen suddenly scooped Ivy up
and threw her over his shoulder like a child who’d thrown a tantrum in a mall
and needed to be removed from the premises.

He turned around and carried her back
inside without a word.

“You need to deal with this!” Peg
shouted, but Cullen cut her off as he slammed the door and locked it.
 
Then he carried Ivy down the hall to the
guest room.

She kicked and screamed the whole way,
trying to free herself from his grasp, but she was no match for Cullen.

He was far too strong and determined.

Finally, he deposited her on the bed of
the guest room, dropping her onto it in a heap.
 
She looked up at him, wiping strands of
stray hair from her face.
 
“You are
a jerk, you know that?
 
You’re
nothing but a bully.
 
A bully and a
coward.”

His chest was rising and falling quickly
from the exertion of carrying her, and his normally perfect hair was a tad
mussed.
 
If anything, he looked
sexier than ever, Ivy decided.

And that only made her angrier.
 
What right did he have to be so good
looking, and why did he think that gave him the leeway to treat everyone else
like dirt?

“You sit here and wait for me to come
back,” he said, his eyes like stone.

“If you walk away, I’ll just leave.
 
I’m not listening to anything you say.”

“Then I’ll carry you back in here,” he
replied.
 
“I’m certain you’ll tire
of acting like a spoiled brat before I tire of picking you up and bringing you
into the room again.”

She screamed and slammed her fists into
the mattress.
 
“I didn’t come here
to be treated this way.”

“That’s exactly why you came here.
 
Stop fooling yourself.”
 
He shook his head slowly.
 
 

Ivy scoffed.
 
“Stop fooling myself?
 
That’s rich, coming from the most out of
touch man I’ve ever met.
 
You live
in a bubble.”

He watched her soberly.
 
“I’ve done you a grave disservice by
allowing you to think we’re on equal footing here.”

“I’m not your pet.
 
Or your student.
 
Or your project.
 
I’m a person,” she said, standing
up.
 
“Treat me like a person.”

“I’ll treat you exactly as you deserve.”
 
Cullen stepped closer, moving like a cat,
graceful, fast, his predatory instincts refined and devastating.
 
“You know that I’m the one in
charge.
 
And your job is to
listen.”
 
His lips were so pink, so
wet and soft.

This close to him, she felt herself weakening.
 
Why was she so defiant?
 
Ivy was having trouble remembering,
struggling to keep her will, when really what she wanted was his kiss.
 
His touch.

“I just wish—“ she began.

His hands shot out and gripped her
waist.
 
“You don’t get what you wish
until you prove you can listen and obey.
 
Then and only then, I make your wishes come true.”

Her nipples stiffened and her center
moistened, as his strong hands held her in place.
 
His breath was on her cheek, as she
turned and met his confident gaze.

“You make it impossible,” she whispered.

“If it was easy, anyone could be in this
position,” he replied.
 
“But only
you can be here with me, right now.
 
You’re the one I wanted, Ivy.”
 
His hand slid up her waist and then encircled her breast, squeezing, as
she moaned.

Her eyelids fluttered.
 
“I don’t know what’s happening to me
anymore.”

“Good,” he said.
 
“Then let me tell you.”
 
He suddenly spun her around and pushed
her towards the bed.

She cried out, losing her balance and
falling into the soft mattress face first.