Propositioned by the Billionaire (8 page)

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ She swivelled round and stuffed the rest of her things into her bag.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To catch the boat.’

‘Don’t.’

‘What?’

‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘With me.’

Phoebe froze. ‘Why would I want to do an insane thing like that?’

Alex took a deep breath and started towards her. ‘Because I think you want me as much as I want you. If I’m right then it’s tearing you up as much as it’s tearing me up. I don’t know about you, but I can’t take it much longer.’

For several long seconds absolute silence hit the room and then the air began to vibrate with electricity. Phoebe stared at him, her eyes darkening and her breathing quickening. For a moment Alex thought she was going to hurl herself into his arms and adrenalin and lust surged through him.

But her face suddenly went blank and the shock of it nearly winded him. ‘If you’re after a bit of attention I suggest you cuddle up to the blonde,’ she said acidly.

Bewilderment sliced through the heavy beat of desire. ‘What blonde?’

‘The one surgically attached to your arm.’

The penny dropped and Alex felt like punching the air with relief. Phoebe was jealous, which meant he’d been right. She did want him. ‘You mean Maggie?’

Phoebe frowned. ‘
That
was Maggie? Your housekeeper, Maggie?’

‘She’s more than just a housekeeper. She organised this evening. She used to plan events in London.’

‘Good for her,’ she said tartly.

‘We go back a long way. I was in a solo race once and hit a storm. My mast broke and I capsized just off the coast. She picked up my distress signal and towed me in.’

‘Kind of her.’

‘I thought so, especially since I’d broken a leg, an arm and a couple of ribs.’ If he’d blinked he’d have missed the wince that flashed across her features. ‘We’ve been friends ever since.’

Phoebe stuck her chin up. ‘I really don’t know why you’re telling me all this.’

‘Would it interest you to know that she and Jim, her husband, run a chandler’s over in the capital?’

Something flickered in the depths of her eyes. ‘Not in the slightest.’

‘Liar,’ he said softly and pulled her into his arms.

T
HE MINUTE HE
reached for her, Phoebe was lost. What was left of her resistance fled. Crushing disappointment and excoriating anger switched to thumping relief and scorching desire. As Alex wrapped her tightly in his embrace Phoebe flung her arms around his neck. His mouth met hers. Teeth clashed and tongues duelled and as they kissed the heat that spun through her made her melt against him.

As the kiss softened and deepened Phoebe clutched at Alex’s jacket, desperate to be able to slide her hands beneath his shirt and feel the warm skin of his back.

Her breasts swelled, nipples tightening and pushing painfully against the bodice of her dress. She could feel the thick, hard length of his erection pulsing against her stomach and she filled with a desperate ache to have him filling her, pounding into her, sending her into oblivion.

While his mouth continued to devour her, Alex’s hands slid down her back, over the curve of her bottom, and pulled her tight against him and Phoebe moaned. She’d never felt anything like this before. This primitive craving. This total abandonment. The throbbing conviction that if she didn’t have him deep inside her she’d die.

As their kisses grew more ravenous Alex slid the zip of her dress down and it fell in a pool of shimmering silk at her feet. Phoebe shoved his jacket off and tugged at his shirt, dismayed by the number of studs there were to undo. But Alex pulled it over his head, and got rid of the rest of his clothes and hers, and then they were tumbling onto the bed.

Their hands roamed over each other, stroking and rubbing and caressing slick hot skin until they were both shaking with need.

‘Please tell me you have a condom somewhere,’ Alex groaned against her mouth.

Phoebe froze and felt like wailing. ‘Of course I don’t have a condom with me. I didn’t come here for sex.’

He pulled back and stared down at her, his eyes blazing with frustration. ‘Damn. Neither did I.’

The ferocity of the disappointment that thundered through her took her breath away. But then Alex gave her a wicked smile that had all sorts of delicious thoughts running through her head. ‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a heck of a lot of fun.’ He began kissing his way down her neck.

Phoebe fell back and let herself drown in the sensations pulsating through her and tried to ignore her disappointment. Part of her wished she were irresponsible enough to tell Alex she didn’t care about protection. But then look what had happened as a result of exactly that to the friend whose hen night she’d been to. Furious parents and a shotgun wedding. Not her idea of fun. Although…

‘Stop. Wait.’

Alex lifted his head and stared at her in disbelief. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I do have condoms. A pack of six.’ Handed out by her friend with the solemn warning to always take care.

‘Where?’ he said hoarsely.

‘My suitcase. Front pocket.’

Alex rolled off her and was back within seconds ripping away the plastic with his teeth and emptying the box onto the bedside table.

‘Always prepared?’ he said.

‘A hen weekend,’ she said, her voice suddenly husky.

‘Sounds like an interesting weekend.’

‘We learned to pole dance. I can show you later if you—’

Phoebe didn’t get to finish her sentence. Alex came down on top of her and crashed his mouth down on hers. Desire slammed straight into her as his lips and tongue embarked on a devastating assault that ravaged her senses. Her pulse galloped. Her legs trembled. She kissed him back greedily, seeking more of him and getting it as the kiss deepened. Her body softened. Her fingers twisted in his hair and she pressed herself even closer to him.

The heat of his mouth, the hardness of his body threatened to send her hurtling out of control. Phoebe’s head began to spin with the deep yearning to have him inside her. She itched and throbbed and ached. His erection pressed against her and her thighs fell apart.

Her chest was heaving with the effort of struggling to breathe. ‘Now,’ she whispered, half crazed with need, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It must have been the desperate pleading in her voice that broke the grip on his control. Because a second later Alex had rolled the condom on, and she could feel the tip of his penis nudging at her entrance and let out a soft low moan.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ he murmured, bending his head and kissing her slowly and thoroughly.

Delight flooded through her and, just when she thought she was about to pass out from the anticipation, Alex thrust into her. Her inner muscles instantly clamped round him as if never wanting to let him go.

The tightness was back in the pit of her stomach, drawing all her attention to it, sucking her into a black hole of aching need. Phoebe wrenched her mouth from his and panted. Alex groaned and went still, as if the merest movement would send him over the edge.

He felt so incredibly good, deep inside her. Better than anything she could have possibly imagined. Her pulse started to race, her breathing shallowed and she couldn’t prevent her hips from arching up. Her hands found their way to his back, and she pressed and traced his muscles, biting on her lip to stop herself from crying out at the incredible sensations that rolled through her, stronger and wilder than anything she’d ever felt before.

Phoebe’s insides started to unravel and she felt the beginnings of an earth-shattering climax roll towards her.

And then it was as if Alex lost the thread on his control. He began to move, pulling out of her and then driving in deeper and harder and faster until they were both spiralling towards a peak that they hit at the same time. With a tiny cry, Phoebe broke apart and heard Alex’s hoarse groan as he collapsed on top of her.

Long seconds passed during which the only sounds she could hear were her tiny gasps for breath and the thundering of her heart.

‘I can’t believe that just happened,’ she said shakily.

Alex gently pulled away from her and rolled onto his back. ‘Can’t you? I can’t believe it didn’t happen before.’

‘If I’d known it was going to be like that, I’d have suggested it earlier.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. Any more than I would have.’

‘Well, I’m glad I’ve finally found out what the fuss is about,’ she said feeling a drowsy smile spread across her face.

‘What?’

Phoebe stilled. Oh, heavens, had she actually said that out loud? ‘Er—nothing.’

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and frowned down at her. ‘Please don’t tell me you were a virgin.’

If only it were that simple. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, aiming for breezy nonchalance and failing dismally. ‘I’ve had sex. Loads of it. Well, not that much,’ she amended, seeing his raised eyebrow. And probably not nearly as much as he had, judging by his skill. ‘But I’ve never…’ Her gaze slid over his shoulder and focused on the white gauzy curtain fluttering in the breeze. She could scarcely believe she was about to tell him this. ‘You know…enjoyed it that much.’

‘You’ve never had an orgasm?’ Alex sounded stunned.

‘No. Well, I mean, not really.’

‘What on earth do you mean? Either you have or you haven’t.’

Phoebe felt her cheeks flame. ‘I’ve always managed perfectly well on my own, but never, er, with anyone else.’

‘Much more fun with someone else, don’t you think?’ he said, smiling down at her.

‘Heaps.’ She grinned. ‘You look pleased with yourself.’

‘I gave you your first orgasm. What man wouldn’t be pleased about that?’

‘And, hallelujah, it proves I’m not frigid after all.’

‘Why would you think you’re frigid?’

Phoebe’s grin faded and she shrugged as if it hadn’t bothered her in the slightest. ‘I’ve been told so. On various occasions.’

Alex curled a lock of hair around his finger and tugged her head forwards for a scorching kiss. ‘I think we’ve dispelled that myth,’ he said when he eventually came up for air.

‘If you get told something often enough you end up believing it. So I decided it probably wasn’t worth the bother. You know how I feel about failure. Jacksons tend to avoid things they’re not particularly good at.’

‘It’s not your failure. It’s the failure of the men you’ve slept with.’

Phoebe grinned and glanced up at him. ‘I like that.’ She ran a finger over his scar and he flinched. ‘How did you get this?’

‘The same way I got this,’ he said, tapping the slight bump on his nose.

‘Sailing?’

‘A fight.’

Phoebe’s eyebrows shot up. ‘About what?’

Alex lay back and stared up at the ceiling. ‘It was so long ago I can’t remember.’

‘Was it over a woman?’

‘I think it may well have been.’

‘Did you win?’

‘Yes.’

Phoebe smiled. Of course he won. ‘Would you like to see mine?’

Alex rolled onto his side and looked down at her. ‘You have a scar?’

‘I do.’

‘What from?’

‘I once fell out of a tree.’

‘What were you doing up a tree?’

‘Rescuing a scarf.’

His brows snapped together. ‘Are you mad?’

‘The most beautiful cashmere scarf. I was sixteen.’

‘You fell from a tree when you were sixteen and all you ended up with was a scar? You were lucky not to have been killed.’

‘So they told me. I was a clumsy teenager.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Hanging up in my wardrobe at home, I think.’

‘Very funny. I was talking about the scar.’

‘Didn’t you see it earlier?’

Alex shook his head. ‘My mind must have been on other things.’

‘Well,’ she said, batting her eyelashes and throwing him a sultry smile, ‘why don’t you try looking for it?’

T
HE SUNLIGHT FILTERING
through the curtains gradually roused Phoebe from her sleep. For a split second she couldn’t work out where she was, but as the events of the night before rolled through her head she grinned and stretched and felt like purring.

She shifted onto her side and opened one eye to double check she hadn’t been dreaming. At the empty space beside her, Phoebe’s heart plummeted. Then she saw the indent on the pillow and felt the lingering heat of Alex’s body on the sheet and her spirits soared.

Her body ached deliciously. Alex had seemed set on making up for all those years of mediocre sex and she’d decided it would be churlish to stop him. The argument about who suffered the least from jealousy had been resolved in a highly satisfactory manner.

But as the sounds of people clearing up outside dragged her into the day the implications of what she’d done began to set in and the doubts she’d managed to keep at bay throughout the long hot night crowded at the edges of her brain.

However inevitable and incredible the night had been, one thing was undeniable. She’d gone to bed with
her client’s brother. The man who still had the power to ruin her, despite her success at the party.

What would happen now?

A cold film of sweat broke out all over her skin as her mind raced through a variety of different scenarios, none of which allayed her worries in the slightest.

Her thoughts were still a mess when she heard footsteps on the landing. Phoebe pulled the sheet up to her chin as if it might provide some sort of defence against what he might have to say about her conduct.

Alex appeared at the doorway looking all gorgeous and rumpled, carrying two cups of coffee and wearing nothing but jeans and, despite her concerns, desire surged through her.

‘Good morning,’ he said, walking over to the bed where Phoebe lay quivering beneath the sheets. He didn’t look as if he had a problem with her behaviour last night, she thought as he set the cups down on the bedside table. But who knew? He could be lulling her into a false sense of security. Getting her all languid and pliable before, bam, he hit her with the news that he’d decided to install his own team after all.

His own team, who probably wouldn’t jump into bed with him at the first available opportunity.

He sat down and planted his hands either side of her. Phoebe felt like groaning and burying her face in the pillow. ‘Uh, morning.’

Alex leaned down and kissed her. He’d brushed his teeth. That really wasn’t fair.

‘Phoebe?’ he said, pulling back and looking down at her with concern.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

He frowned. ‘Do you regret last night?’

‘No. Yes. Maybe.’ Her gaze slid over his shoulder and she bit on her lip. ‘Do you?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Oh,’ she said, slightly disconcerted by the gleam in his eye. ‘Good.’

‘So what is it?’

‘I was just wondering where I stand with regard to the job.’

He visibly relaxed. ‘Is that all?’

‘All?’ She glared at him. ‘Don’t you realise how important it is to me?’

‘I have some idea.’

‘I’d do pretty much anything to hang onto it.’

‘Anything?’ He arched an eyebrow.

Phoebe blushed. ‘Well, not anything exactly.’ She paused. ‘I hope you don’t think I went to bed with you to secure it or something.’

‘I don’t think that. At least I didn’t.’ He frowned slightly. ‘
Did
you go to bed with me to secure it?’

‘Of course I didn’t,’ she said heatedly. ‘I went to bed with you because it had got to the stage when I couldn’t not. You were right. This…’ How could she begin to describe it?

‘Chemistry.’

‘Yes, chemistry…has been tearing me apart.’

Alex grinned. ‘Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up.’

‘It’s not cleared up.’

Alex ran a hand through his hair. ‘Is this conversation ever going to make sense?’

‘Agh.’ She batted him on the arm. ‘Just tell me. Do I or do I not have the job?’

‘You do.’

Phoebe flopped back onto the pillows as relief flooded through her. Then a thought struck her and she froze. ‘Not because of last night?’

‘Of course because of last night, but not the part you’re thinking of. I think the strategy you came up with to raise the money was inspired and executed brilliantly.’

Phoebe beamed. Thank heavens for that. ‘So just to make sure I’ve got this right, I continue working with Jo and you go back to being a silent partner?’

Alex grimaced as if the thought of taking a step back was hard to swallow. ‘Something like that.’

‘Can I have it in writing?’

‘Don’t push your luck.’

Phoebe grinned and levered herself upright to plant a kiss on his mouth. ‘The thought of relinquishing control drives you nuts, doesn’t it?’

He shot her a thoughtful glance. ‘Not as much as I anticipated. And I dare say I’ll get used to it.’

Then he looked over her hair and a faint smile hovered at his mouth. ‘I like this.’

Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. She dreaded to think what sort of state her hair was in. In the middle of the night Alex had carried her into the shower and had made love to her so thoroughly she hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. Now, though, she wished she’d at least run a brush through it while it had still been wet. ‘Don’t mock. It’s a sore point.’

‘I’m not mocking,’ he said mildly, shooting her a quick smouldering smile. ‘It suits you.’

‘Huh?’

‘It goes with the rest of you.’

Phoebe frowned. ‘Springy?’

‘Curvy.’

Curvy? What woman wanted to be described as curvy? ‘I’m not sure I like curvy.’

‘I do,’ said Alex, running a hand up her body and cupping her breast.

Phoebe bit on her lip to stop herself from moaning and tried to concentrate. ‘I always wanted to be a sleek blonde.’

To her great disappointment Alex removed his hand and tilted his head. She should have kept quiet and moaned after all. ‘Why?’

‘My sister is a sleek blonde. I peroxided my hair once but it went green, so I decided to stick to being a sleek brunette instead.’

‘I prefer brunettes. And I prefer ruffled.’

Ruffled was good. Ruffled sounded seductive in a sort of louche sex-kitten kind of way. ‘You do?’

Alex’s eyes gleamed. ‘Uh-huh. And right now, I don’t think you’re ruffled enough.’

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

‘Hmm, let me see… Where shall I start?’ He ran his eyes over her as if assessing every inch of skin. ‘How about here?’ He bent his head and dropped a kiss at the base of her neck. Phoebe shivered. ‘No?’ He hooked a finger over the top of the sheet and pulled it down. ‘All right, how about here?’ He ran a trail of kisses down the slope of her breast and flicked his tongue over her nipple. Phoebe’s back arched and she gasped.

‘Feeling ruffled yet?’ He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. It felt as if he could see right into her soul and Phoebe had the sudden premonition that Alex could turn out to be very bad for her indeed.

‘Getting there,’ she said huskily.

The sound of a phone ringing somewhere downstairs
jolted her out of the haze of desire. ‘I thought you didn’t have a phone.’

‘There’s a satellite phone,’ he murmured against her skin.

‘Shouldn’t you go and answer it?’

‘Too late.’

The ringing stopped as the answer machine kicked in.

Phoebe grinned and stretched back. ‘Don’t you just love civilisation?’

‘Where would we be without it?’

‘The Stone Age?’ she said softly. ‘In fact I can just see you in a loin cloth, hunting and gathering.’

Alex lifted his head and his eyes gleamed. ‘I can see you lying on the floor of my cave waiting to be ravished on my return.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ said Phoebe indignantly, thinking how wonderfully wanton that sounded. ‘I’d be decorating. Doing something creative with shells. Drawing on the walls. Or alternatively I’d be sitting with the other cave-women and listening to how they sent their men out for some leaves and roots for supper and they came back with a woolly mammoth.’

Alex laughed and the sound of it rumbled right through her making every nerve ending tingle.

‘Besides, it would be
our
cave, not just yours.’

Alex pulled back a little and Phoebe wondered what she’d said. ‘Alex?’

‘Phoebe.’ The cool tone of his voice sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. ‘Before we go any further, you should know I’m not looking for a cave with anyone.’

No. In the past five years he hadn’t been photographed with the same woman twice. ‘You’re the one who mentioned me lying in your cave.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t have you decorating.’

If he hadn’t been lying half on top of her, she’d have kicked herself. ‘My mistake. I don’t really like decorating anyway. The decorative arts were shunned in the Jackson household in favour of academia, so I’d probably have to get someone in.’

He frowned. ‘You’re missing my point.’

‘No, I’m not. I understand perfectly well what you mean. You needn’t worry. I’m not going to get all clingy and needy. The last thing I need at this stage in my career is anything serious or heavy.’ She shot him a smouldering smile. ‘But the hot sex is kind of nice.’

‘Nice?’ he murmured. ‘I must be out of practice.’

Yeah right. ‘I guess you have it a lot,’ she said lightly. ‘What with being an international playboy and things.’

‘Not as often as you might imagine. And don’t tell anyone, but I’m not much of a playboy either.’

A kick of something resembling delirious relief punched her in the stomach and alarm bells rang in her ears. Oh, if she wasn’t careful she could find herself careering down such a slippery slope.

‘Ever been in love?’

‘Phoebe…’

‘OK, OK,’ she said, grinning. Neither had she, and frankly the idea of being at the mercy of rampaging emotions made her feel sick just thinking about it. ‘So all those photos… all that arm candy…?’

‘Just arm candy.’ He paused and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to know?’

Everything, she thought, feeling unaccountably pleased at his answer. She wanted to know everything
about him. But not right now… ‘About that hot sex,’ she said, throwing him a coquettish smile. ‘Any chance of some more?’

Alex listened to the soft sound of Phoebe’s breathing as she dozed. Her head lay on his chest, and her arm was flung across his stomach. Sleep, however, eluded him completely. He’d never felt more awake or more alert.

The way Phoebe had responded to him over and over again astounded him. Once she’d had her eyes opened, she’d been insatiable. And he’d been more than willing to help her make up for lost time. But if he wasn’t careful this could get way out of hand. By now, he’d have expected the itch to have gone away. That after the night they’d just had, desire would have faded. But it hadn’t. Quite the opposite. Even now, he could feel himself stirring again.

What was it about her? He stared down at Phoebe’s face and felt a weight shift in his chest. Something bordering on panic gripped his insides and he suddenly felt an odd desperation to escape. He gently lifted her arm and eased himself from beneath her.

Phoebe stirred and made a little sound of protest. ‘Where are you going?’ she said sleepily.

‘To see who that was on the phone. Don’t go anywhere.’

Oh, good Lord. Phoebe stood in the bathroom and stared at her reflection in absolute horror.

When Alex had said he liked her hair like this he had to be lying. Frizzy didn’t even begin to describe the mess. Her hair stuck out at bizarre angles, as a result of her going to sleep with it wet and Alex’s fingers tangling through it all night. Her poor overworked straighteners
would never be able to tame this. She needed an industrial tool kit, the likes of which she’d only ever found in a handful of London salons. She’d head to the nearest one just as soon as they landed back on British soil.

And then what? Would Alex suggest dinner? Should she suggest a drink? Nervous excitement fizzled around her stomach. Or might that be too clingy for something which was only about hot sex? She was sailing into uncharted territory here, she realised, frowning at her reflection. She’d better figure out the rules. Maybe she’d ask Alex. He was bound to have a whole string of them.

‘Phoebe.’

The sound of his voice jerked her out of her thoughts. She couldn’t let him see her like this. Horizontal, with her hair spread out over a pillow or his chest was one thing. Vertical was quite another.

‘Just a minute.’

He flung the bathroom door open and as she swung round every niggle about her hair and rules flew from her head. Alex looked absolutely terrible. His face was white. His eyes were stormy grey and filled with concern.

Phoebe’s heart lurched. ‘What’s happened?’

‘We need to leave.’

‘Now?’

‘Immediately.’

‘Why?’

‘That was Jo on the phone.’

Fear gripped her stomach and she clutched at the basin. ‘Is she all right?’

‘Physically she’s fine. Mentally I’m not sure. The press have got hold of a story about her.’

Oh, no. Phoebe went very still. ‘What about?’

‘How much has she told you about her life before design college?’

‘Not a lot. I guess I’d imagined she’d been at school.’

‘She was. While she was there she became anorexic and ended up in a psychiatric hospital.’

Her stomach churned. ‘How long for?’

‘A year.’

God, how awful. Phoebe could barely begin to imagine what Jo must have gone through. ‘And that’s the story?’

‘In a nutshell.’

So much for her rash assumption that weekends in PR were quiet. She should never have tempted fate like that. Feeling as if the walls were closing in on her Phoebe dragged in a shaky breath. ‘Can I use the phone? I’d like to check my messages.’

Alex nodded briefly. ‘It’s in the study. As soon as you’re ready we’ll leave.’

Thirty-five missed calls.

Fifteen messages before the time had run out.

Messages from Jo. Growing increasingly frantic. From the fashion house wondering what the hell was going on. From journalists asking for comments and verification of the facts. From potential clients cancelling meetings and postponing lunches.