The Billionaire's Desire Page 10

  “Then be quiet, relax, and let me do this.” He wrapped the chord around one ankle and kissed her toes, his breath hot and moist on her feet. Then he did the same to the other. So sensual and delicate a move, it sharply contrasted the rough rope around her ankles.

  Jonathan watched her squirm with denied lust, and she watched enthralled as his eyes devoured her every reaction. “Right here, right now, Vanessa Stiles—if never again and nowhere else—you are mine.” He secured her feet so they were wide apart and unable to move. “I want you so fucking much.”

  The vulnerability of this position both aroused and worried her. She wondered what it was about her that attracted dominant men, and what it was that she found so attractive about them. This kind of control was okay, but she knew the other kind, the kind Mike inflicted, would never be okay again. She had to believe that she could tell the difference.

  “And I you, Jonathan.” she said, between pants. Biting her lips longingly, she moaned, “I want you now!”

  He climbed on top of her, lowered his eager mouth onto her moist, throbbing, sex and lapped, sucked, nibbled until her climax left Vanessa utterly spent. Then, while she still rode the waves of pleasure, he pushed himself inside her, filling her up and stretching her wide.

  She cried out, “Oh yes, Jonathan. Oh God yes.”

  He sighed at the look on her face as she accepted him so enthusiastically, and pumped her over and over, softly, then harder and harder, massaging her breasts with his hands and kissing her passionately as he did so, until his own merciful release came along with a scream, “Ah!”

  By the time they fell asleep in each other’s arms on sweaty sheets, Vanessa finally acknowledged that she was falling in love with Jonathan, and there was no turning back.

  She wept tears on his chest while he slept, and she prayed to God, who might be listening, Please let Jonathan feel the same for me.

  * * *

  Over the next three days they skied, shopped and made their own food at their chalet, drank beer and wine, and made love as often as they could. Vanessa could hardly hold back after the first time. She knew what she’d be missing, for one thing. She told herself they were on holiday and refused to think too deeply about things that might steal the gloss from their perfect picture. Stuff pertaining to their contract, and the reality that their relationship was essentially bought and paid for, were off topic in her mind.

  That is until Jonathan woke her with pancakes and said, “Tonight’s the night, Beautiful.” He leant forward and kissed her while she yawned, tongues and all.

  “Hey, come on. You got to brush, no fair!”

  “Your mouth tastes of me and reminds me what we got up to last night. You do have an incredible mouth, Ness.”

  She sniggered and flushed at the memory, “Why, thanks Jonny.” However, another memory took its place, “Yours is quite spectacular, too.”

  “Jon, or Jonathan, please. I’d rather not be named after those things.” He pointed to the waste paper basket by the bed, containing a stupid amount of condoms, referred to as Johnnies in England, apparently.

  “Oh, that is gross. Jon then. Or The Devil?”

  Jonathan turned, shocked. “Don’t take the Lords name in vain. Only Robert takes that honour.”

  “Oh poop. Jon then. Let me eat my pancakes. What are we up to today, John? I’m sure you have plans?”

  He made his way to the dressing rooms, and called from inside, “Ah, well. Today we can go shopping, or do the slopes again. If you have enough energy.” he sniggered, poked his head around the door and did something devilishly sexy with his eyebrows, before returning to the closet. “And then it’s time to pull out one of these evening dresses and the diamonds and get this show on the road.”

  Vanessa’s love bubble deflated. “Ah, yes. That’s what we’re here for, right.”

  * * *

  “Come on, you’ve been in there for three hours. Surely you’re done?”

  Vanessa was a little tipsy. She snuck a half bottle of wine into the dressing area and locked Jonathan out, after she had showered. She knew what would happen later and she knew this shouldn’t have upset her so much, but damn it, it did. And it was all her fault. She was in love with a man paying to marry her and tonight was the pretend proposal. She would have to feign surprise and joy when she’d feel nothing but cheap and stupid for allowing their business arrangement to become sexual, worse than that, emotional.

  She checked her image one more time in the bathroom mirror, walked to the bedroom door and inhaled. Then she opened it. “Okay, okay. I’m ready. Is the car here?”

  Jonathan’s mouth dropped. “Holy … I’m.” He stroked her cheek. “I’m taken aback, Ness. I mean, that dress, the diamonds, you are working them. I hope I do you justice tonight.”

  “I’m what?”

  “Twirl for me?”

  She twirled; the slinky gold fishtail gown glittered in the dim lighting.

  “You are stunning.”

  She curtseyed and smiled at him. He leant in to kiss her, which she flinched from. “Not yet. Lip gloss, remember.”

  “Ah. God, that’s got me all, you know. Having to wait.”

  She puckered her lips the blew him a kiss, winked and said, “Yeah, I know.”

  He gave her the handbag he’d bought for her and placed a full length fake fur wrap around her bare shoulders, “Should be a crime to be your level of hot.”

  She simply smiled at him and walked ahead. Vanessa loved their banter, their easy talk filled with innuendo. But she hated how marred it was now the pesky truth had come back to spew all over it. She climbed into the limo and snuggled up to Jonathan in the back. Only minutes later, they pulled up at the restaurant. He’d booked out the entire first floor and the lower floor were his guests, including socialites galore. Vanessa tried to pretend they weren’t there and enjoy the meal, which was incredible. The champagne and strawberries came with her ring, which she had argued about, because she’d never even heard of yellow diamonds so why should they cost so damn much.

  When Vanessa heard the words, “Vanessa Stiles, you are in all ways better than me, but would you, could you ever consider, being my wife?” her heart banged in her chest with too much booze, with restrained tears, with the roller-coaster of complete joy and then sorry, and with the wish that it was true.

  She said, as she had practiced, “Oh Jonathan, of course I will.” They embraced, and they kissed, and just like in the movies, all the guests on the lower floor roared with greetings, congratulations and cheers.

  The room spun around Vanessa, “Oh,” she whispered. “Think you should take me home. Right away.”

  Jonathan grabbed her face and kissed her deeply, “You read my mind.” He threw the cape around her, she grabbed her bag and he scooped her up in his arms, “Waiter, thanks. We’re going.”

  He carried her down the stairs, eyes never leaving hers and his heart beat banging against her. They reached the lower floor and she never looked at the crowds, or the huge rock on her finger, only at him, panting.

  She’d needed to leave—intoxicated and woozy—but as he moved her passed the public, into a cab where they kissed passionately all the way home, all she could think about was getting back to their chalet, to their place of divine intimacy. Where pretence and contracts dissolved, and where they could be together, properly.

  * * *

  The following day was a sad one. They packed up and took one last look around the chalet. “I’ve loved being here with you, Ness. I’ll miss it.”

  Vanessa choked back tears. “Me too. Thanks so much. I can ski now, who knew?”

  He held her hand and pushed hair behind her ear. “Your hair is growing. Looks less severe a little longer.” He kissed her, and almost whispered, “Softer.”

  Vanessa wrapped her arms around his waist, “I was thinking of growing it out. I used to always wear it long until ...”

  “Till what?”

  “Till I got it cut silly, ha.” She avoided his eye
s for a second. They’d grown so close she sometimes felt he read her every thought. “No point putting it off. Back to work and your God-awful phone.” Vanessa handed his cell phone. “Here.”

  “I almost don’t want to turn back on.”

  “Then don’t. Wait till we get back. Stay like this with me for a while longer.”

  They embraced and the phone remained switched off in his pocket.

  * * *

  After a week back at work, after unpacking, and after a crater-like space formed between them while Jonathan caught up on a stack of work, she started to feel more and more conflicted about their weird relationship.

  Everyone had been hitting her for the details on their romance, dripping over her huge yellow rock and diamond studs he’d asked her to wear. She smiled and went about her business, trying not to feel the increasingly uncomfortable nausea that came with falling love with a man who was paying her to marry him. It was never a good idea in itself, but what made it much worse was occasionally sharing his bed as well.

  What does that mean exactly, is he paying for that too? What does that make me? I’m a whore!

  Vanessa found it difficult to separate her true feelings for Jonathan from their fake, and quite public, life together. After several days apart (every night alone and in tears) she told herself to confess her conflict, to tell him she wasn’t sure if they could carry on. She sent him an email, telling him she needed to talk to him that night, privately, after work.

  Within two minutes, her phone rang out Robert Johnson, 'Love in Vain,' “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Ah, got the email then. I’m at work Jon, could we discuss this later?”

  “Are you okay? I’m worried.”

  Her teeth ground, then she said, “Huh. Worrying about what?” She knew he only worried about his contract. About staying in the country. It hurt.

  “About you, what else? Hey, what’s up Sweetheart?”

  She despised him calling her that. Mike had used that and she was too pissed to be okay with it any more. “Don't call me that. I hate it. After all, no one’s watching.”

  “What’s going on Ness? You sound off.”

  “Really? Just come to my place tonight. About 8pm. I have kickboxing after work,” and with that, she hung up.

  Jonathan sent Vanessa an email, asking her if she wanted to talk earlier, but Vanessa ignored Jonathan’s email and went to lunch with Danielle, where she tried to avoid all conversation about Jonathan and their ski trip and the proposal. Instead, they spoke of Danielle’s anniversary surprise for Ray and she really appreciated it.

  Vanessa did feel guilty of course, leaving him dangling like that, but she didn’t feel like running when he called. Not while she was in that mood. Not while her anger clouded her heart.

  That night, she put takeout Lemon Chicken and Noodles in the oven to keep warm and took a shower to remove all signs of her rigorous workout. She felt calmer, but closer now to weeping than fighting. Once cleansed, she combed out her hair, noticed her roots needed doing, and cursed sudden growth spurts. She’d only had them done before they went skiing. “Crap.”

  She put a fresh pair of monthly disposable contact lenses in and waited. But not for long, because at 7.45pm the buzzer rang. “Who goes there?”

  “Me, let me up.”

  * * *

  “Come in, want some food?” She avoided his eyes. Once they looked at her all helpless and pleading she might put her own hurts and needs on the back-burner again, and she wouldn’t do that. Not again. She held up a bottle of wine which cost $30 and said, “I got Chinese and this wine, dunno what it’s like.”

  “I have no stomach for food but I’ll take a glass of that. Here, let me.” He took it from her and looked through draws for a corkscrew. Vanessa offered him the one she already held. “Oh, thanks. You have me a little nervous here, Honey.”

  “Of course. Sorry.” she left him to pour the wine as he seemed to want to do something, and she needed not to be standing so close. Silence spread out around them, but seemed to have a noise of its own, so Vanessa flicked through her iPod. She’d normally play anything he had given her, knowing he’d like it. But she decided to play thinks she liked.

  She clicked on a playlist she’d made recently. A medley of classical, opera, jazz and blues, and of course, more current love songs thrown in for good measure. Songs she had always loved mixed with songs she found through Jon.

  As he sat next to her offering her a glass of wine, Nina Simone sang ‘Just Like a Woman’ and Vanessa’s heart sang along with every word as she took several gulps of wine for courage.

  “Excellent choice.”

  “The wine?”

  “Err, no. The music.”

  “Of course. But the wine’s okay right?”

  “Fine. But I don’t care about the wine. Now, how about you put me out of my misery and tell me what’s wrong? I’ve been fit for nothing all afternoon.”

  She took another gulp. Still not wanting to be so close or to look into his eyes. “I need to say this without looking at you and without interruption. Okay?”

  “Oh Christ please. What is it?”

  “I’m. Okay.” Vanessa inhaled. Come one just say in, Ness. “I’m falling in … love with you.”

  “Oh.” Vanessa felt his hand on her cheek, heard his heartbeat almost in sync with her own, “Baby. Come here.”

  She flinched, “Without interruption, remember.” Oh shit, was that him offering his love in return or pity. My heart’s about to explode. Jonathan stood, then knelt in front of Vanessa, clasping onto her hands, peering up at her threw lines of thick black lashes. “It’s okay, Ness. Look at me, please.”

  She looked away, anywhere but as his delicious grey glare, “I can’t be with you and do this, when my heart will end up like pulp at the end of it all. No amount of money’s worth that level of pain.” Tears flowing down her face, she turned to meet his eager gaze finally, and said, “Oh God Jonathan, I think I have to call this whole thing off, don't you see?”

  “Vanessa. Come here.” He pulled her closer, into a full embrace, kissed her forehead, then each eye, then her mouth. And cradling her face in his large hands her said, “And I love you.”

  Vanessa frowned, filled with a sickening mix of fear and love and hope for love.

  Jonathan kissed the tip of her nose, “Don't you see, I’m falling for you, too.”

  They made love that night. No ropes or innuendo or cheeky references. They made love, and each learned what it meant for the first time.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Vanessa moved into Jonathan’s apartment. Well, Jonathan organised a removals crew to do the whole thing. They simply turned up after 6pm and her life had synchronized with his, her belongings had merged seamlessly with his.

  Vanessa didn’t mind letting go of her apartment. It had always been part of her ‘on the run’ life and that part of her life seemed a long time ago now. Finally, she saw a world without dread, sweaty nightmares, sacrifice and lies. One day she might tell Jonathan, but not yet. She didn’t like to keep the secret, but because she had already lied to him, the bridge to repair the damage of those lies looked shaky at best.

  Roger and Susan were very pleased to see their favourite boss finally settling down too, not knowing of the contract of course. They oozed happiness for the happy couple.

  Mostly Vanessa felt reassured about the contract, knowing that he was in a sense in the same danger as she was. Okay, so he was doing the paying, but like he’d said, if hearts had to break, it was as likely to be his as it was hers. Jonathan did his best to make her feel comfortable with every part of their deal, with living in his apartment and with sharing a bedroom, although soon it felt as natural between them there as it had in Vail.

  “Hey, fancy going to see that movie at the IMAX later? Get Roger to pick you up from work, say around 5pm?”

  “That’s a little early for me, and at least two hours early for you worker bee.” She kissed him then popp
ed her toast back in her mouth.

  “Days are too long when I have to wait to see you.”

  “Aw, I’m only ever a few feet away at the office, and I sleep in your bed. Obsessed much?” she giggled.

  They teased and kissed one another absentmindedly between cleaning up, eating breakfast, gathering their work paraphernalia, and setting off. All one harmonious dance that warmed her heart.

  At work, Vanessa spent some time planning their wedding, much to Beth’s annoyance. But Jonathan had made it clear this was ‘allowed and to be encouraged’ so as long as her work got done, and it always did, Beth could go screw herself.

  Um, guest list. Who can I invite? My mum, who won’t understand why my name is now Vanessa? I never speak to my old friends after Mike ruined every friendship I had. Danielle and Ray it is then. Shit, he’s going to expect me to have my mum there. I could just tell her I changed my name? Oh shit!

  Just then, Vanessa’s inbox made that ping message it always made when she got an email. Expecting another spam message she could quickly delete, she was pleasantly surprised to see a message from Jonathan.

  Bored. Need you. And have you seen the pictures of us all over the web? You are HOT!!

  Vanessa Googled Jonathan Jergan and he was right, their pictures were everywhere. Pictures of them in restaurants, on the slopes, in Nobu, walking in the park, all dressed up on the night he proposed, even a close up shot of her huge rock.

  Mike! What if he’s seen these?

  The dread that had mellowed over the previous blessed weeks had returned with bells on. “Fuck!”

  Vanessa immediately emailed him back.

  Oh crap. Thought we said no media circus?

  Jonathan’s reply came back a minute later. He wasn’t worried. Of course he wasn’t, he had no idea what Vanessa was afraid of.

  You look incredible, Ness. You missed your calling. So, coming to see me? Everyone in the world knows about us and I want to celebrate.

  She tried not to worry. The Mike she knew wasn’t into gossip pages or trawling the internet. And even if he did, he couldn’t get to her without a plane ride, which he wouldn’t take. Mike was terrified of flying. It was one of the main reasons Vanessa had picked Hawaii as her new home.