ALL THAT HE WANTS (Volume 1 The Billionaire's Seduction) (32 page)

I didn’t want to… not fully, because it would be too heartbreaking…

…but I couldn’t let him go. Didn’t want to.

To hell with it.

I drifted over to my bed and let my fingers brush over the tangled sheets. Again, I hoped he would just pick it up from there. Step forward and seduce me, if we were going to do it –

“I want you to quit your job,” he suddenly blurted out.

My eyes got wide.

Not what I’d been expecting.

“W… what?” I asked, leaning forward as though I hadn’t quite heard him correctly.

For the first time the entire weekend, he looked uncomfortable. Like a regular guy who wanted to say something, but was agonizing about saying it.

The man who would mock anyone, anytime, and say whatever the hell he wanted… who was as smooth as they came… was acting like a teenage boy who wanted talk to a girl but didn’t know how.

“I… I’ve had a fantastic time this weekend,” he finally said.

My heart soared. “Me too.”

“And… I don’t really want it to end.”

My heart went higher, and the mistiness in my eyes edged over from sadness to joy. “Me neither.”

“I… look, quit your job and come with me for awhile. I’ll pay you $20,000.”

A bucket of cold water dumped over me.

I stood there in shock.

Numb, cold, disbelieving shock.

“Um… I’m not an escort.”

I tried to sound insulted – which I was – but it came out more incredulous. Which I was, too.

He smiled. “I know you’re not, but – ”


But?!”
I said. The shock was wearing off now. “BUT?!”

He looked at me like
Cut it out.
“Look, I was just saying that because I want you to quit your job, and I know you need money to live – ”

“Why do you have to pay me?! Why can’t I just keep my job, and we just, I don’t know,
see
each other like normal people?” Now I was getting angry. “Isn’t that what you liked about today – that it was
normal?”

He obviously didn’t like my tone – and I’ll bet he didn’t like being told ‘no’ in any way, shape, or form – because his face darkened. “I live in New York City. And, oh, by the way, I have to go to Europe later this week for business. God knows how long I’m going to be gone. So, when are you going to pop over for the night, huh?”

I faltered a bit. “Well… I don’t have to quit my job… I can just see you on the weekends when you get back.”

“That’s not what I want.”

A sick feeling was creeping through my belly. “Oh? What
do
you want?”

“I want you to come with me. Tonight.”

The sick feeling went away, and hope started to bloom. “For how long?”

He shrugged defensively, like I was asking some sort of unreasonable ‘chick’ question, and all my hope withered on the vine. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I could get a couple days off, maybe – ”

“First off, no you can’t, not from your asshole boss. Second, I don’t want a couple of days, I want you to be there with me, not worrying about your job, or when you have to go back – ”

“That job is how I survive.”

“Which is why I offered you the money,” he snapped, then put his hand to his forehead. “Look, I didn’t want it to be like this – ”

“Like what?”  I asked, ice in my voice. “Like you were offering money to a whore?”

He dropped his hand and looked at me in shock. “That is
not
what it was like at
all –

“Well, that’s what it felt like,” I said, and wrapped my arms around me again, trying to shut out the hurt feelings.

“I just want – ”

“You said you wanted me to come with you, but what does that mean? For how long?”

“I don’t know how long – ”

“Well, give me
something
– a day? A week? A month?”


I don’t know!”
he barked. “We’ll see how it goes!”

The ice was growing inside me now, the crystals branching off like the limbs of a tree, filling me slowly. “Oh… I see. I’m just supposed to be
convenient,
until you get tired of me.”

He was really angry now. “I don’t
know
how long – I just know that, right now, I don’t want ‘forever,’ okay?”

If my heart was frozen before, it shattered into pieces when he said that.

He must have seen it on my face, because I heard desperation creep into his voice. “That didn’t come out right.”

“I think it came out exactly the way you meant it.”

“All I’m saying is…”

He breathed out hard, then regrouped.

“You
knew
what I was asking Friday night! I said, ‘come with me this weekend.’ Not ‘let’s get married,’ not ‘let’s move in together’ – come with me for this
weekend
.”

“I know that.”

Yes, I’d known that at the time. It had bothered me, but I had accepted it.

There was just one problem: over the course of the last two days, all our time together had come to mean a whole lot more to me.

But it apparently didn’t mean the same to him.

He stepped over to me and put his hands on my arms, and looked deep into my eyes. “All I’m saying differently this time is, come with me for a little while longer.”

I felt like crying – but I didn’t want to let him see it.

And the only way I could do that was if I let my anger out instead. “I’m not a prostitute.”

He flinched, and his hands dropped away from my arms. “I never said you were! I never even implied it!”

“No, you just offered me money to extend my ‘weekend contract.’”

He closed his eyes and grimaced like he was in pain. Then he opened them again and stared at me. “Look… I handled that badly. But I only said it because you’re not going to quit that goddamn job of yours where you’re wasting yourself – ”

“I need the money!”

“Which is why I offered it to you, dammit!” he roared.

He scared me. I pulled away and wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you – I’m sorry.”

I hugged my arms tight across my chest as I stared at the wall. I was hurting so badly, all I wanted to do was lash out.

So I did.

“I heard you don’t pay a prostitute to sleep with you, you just pay her to go away. Is that what this is?”

“You’re just not going to let that go, are you?” he asked bitterly.

“Is it so when you get tired of me, you can just toss me away and not have to feel guilty, because, hey, you already
paid
me?”

“Fuck you,” he said coldly.

I turned around and looked him dead in the eyes.

“No thanks,” I sneered. “Not for the price
you’re
offering, anyway.”

He glared at me.

And then… I saw it.

The pain, deep down inside his eyes. The vulnerability he hated to show.

He softened his voice as he said, “Please… I’m sorry. Let’s not do this. It was so wonderful up till now.”

I wanted to cry. I was doing a pretty good job of keeping a lid on it, but I still had to wipe away a tear as I whispered, “Yeah, it was… but I’m not for sale.”

“I never said you were.”

I flashed back to what he’d said about the redheaded maitre d’ at the restaurant:

It’s amazing how cheaply some people can be bought… and $300 was her price.

I was bound and determined that he would
never
be able to afford my price.

Not with money, anyway.

“But you tried to buy me,” I said. “I think you buy a lot of people… but I’m not one of them.”

“I won’t deny that you’re right – about
other
people. But I know that money is an issue for you, and I wanted you not to have to worry about it.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then what do you want?”

I stared him straight in the eyes. “I want you.”

“You can have me –
and
not have to worry about a job for a few months!” he exclaimed, like
Why can’t you see this is a win/win for everybody?!

“No, I don’t just want sex, or another week in bed, or at the hotel, or whatever.”

“You said you wanted
me
– ”

“I want
all
of you.”

There. I’d said it.

I’d been honest… if not exactly, 100% clear.

Up until that point, I hadn’t admitted it, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to say it out loud…

…but I had fallen in love with him.

He didn’t react the way I wanted him to, though.

He looked worried and wounded and brokenhearted. “That’s the one thing I can’t give you,” he whispered.

A sob escaped my throat, and my whole body trembled. “Well, no amount of money’s going to make up for that.”

He put his hands over his face and turned away, walked over into the corner.

I sat down on the bed, trying so hard not to cry. Not yet.

Just hold out a little while longer.

“Look,” he said, his voice weary and worn down, “regardless of what just happened here between us, do me a favor.”

“What,” I said, barely hanging on.

“Don’t go into work tomorrow.”

I froze, and everything came surging back in one nightmare flood:

Klaus.

The report I hadn’t done.

My phone and wallet at the office.

The doubtless dozens of furious texts and voice messages that would be on my cell tomorrow morning.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because… it’s probably going to get ugly.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s supposed to be a meeting tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So what they
think
is going to happen… isn’t going to happen.”

I stared at him. “The buyout.”

“I can’t say anything more, but… I don’t want you to be there.”

I thought of the report, of my cell phone full of venomous messages. “I’m probably going to lose my job anyway – but I’ll
definitely
lose it if I don’t go in.”

“Lily, just call in sick. Lie to them,” he pleaded. “Klaus is an asshole – don’t go in and let him take it out on you, because he
will.
All the shit’s going to roll downhill tomorrow, and you’re standing at the bottom of the heap.”

“I appreciate you warning me, but… I need my job,” I said.

“Forget your job. Come with me.”

I just looked up at him coldly.

He shook his head like he couldn’t believe what was going on in front of him.

Then he walked over, took my face in his hands, and kissed me softly on the lips.

I stiffened. I didn’t give anything back to him. Not that I didn’t want to – I
wanted
to melt into him, to say,
Forget everything I said, I’m coming with you –

But I couldn’t.

Not after that big speech about not being able to be bought.

And not after how he’d hurt me.

He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes.

“Goodbye,” he whispered…

…and then he was gone.

I heard him say something to Anh in the next room, then I heard the front door open and shut.

And then I burst into tears.

37

By the time Anh rushed in, I was wailing like a wounded animal. I was doubled over, holding my stomach, like somebody had stabbed me.

It really felt like he had – but in my heart.

“Oh my God, Lily, what’s wrong?!” Anh cried out. She sank down beside me on the bed and put her arms around me, and pulled my head onto her shoulder.

“He – he – ”

But I couldn’t go on. I just sobbed for a minute as she stroked my hair and rocked me gently, like a mother with her child.

Finally I could speak. “He… he asked me to quit my job and go with him.”

“Um… okay, that’s kinda weird…”

“And he offered to pay me. Like a prostitute or something.”

I looked at Anh to see her reaction.

“Eww,” she said, curling up her lip a little.

“I know!” I sobbed. “Like, I don’t know, like I’m a hooker or something!”

“Um… this might not be the best question right now… but… he, like, didn’t give you any money for this weekend or anything, did he?”

“NO! How could you even
think
that?!”

She looked around at the bags of expensive clothes lying on the floor.

“Those were gifts!” I shouted. “Jesus, Anh, I didn’t have sex with a guy for
clothes!
I even told him to take them back, and he wouldn’t!”

She cringed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry – it’s just, it’s really unusual for you to disappear for a weekend. Like, a
sexy
weekend. And with some stranger I’ve never met, and who
you
apparently met Friday night. And… not that you aren’t beautiful, Lily, you know I think you are… but
daaaaamn,
girl, that guy was
hot!
Is he a male model or something?”

I looked up into her eyes and realized Anh didn’t know anything. Other than the fact that I’d stayed at the Dubai Hotel with him, and that we’d had sex.

“Anh… do you not know who that was?”

She started to look alarmed. “Nooo… why, should I?”

I gave a sharp little laugh. “I guess I didn’t know who he was, either, so why should you?”

Actually, my roommate ranked way higher on the ‘informed about world events and important persons’ scale than I did, so I just assumed she would know.

“You’re kind of freaking me out, Lily,” she said in a low voice.

“Have you ever heard of the Templetons?”

“What, those rich people who own everythOH MY GOD, is he related to them?!”

I nodded.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “…is he… rich?”

I nodded again.

“…
how
rich?”

“Rich enough to offer me $20,000 to quit my job and go travelling with him for a week… or until he gets bored,” I added bitterly.

“Oh my
God.

“Yeah.”

“Um… again… maybe not the best question to ask you right now… but… why didn’t you?”

“ANH!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but… why?”

I inhaled deeply, then blew it out in one shaky breath. “Because I’m in love with him.”

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