His Strict Requirement: Billionaire Secrets - Book Five Page 4

  "I'm sorry." She heard a deep voice say. "But you were irresistible."

  "Fuck." She pulled off the sleeping blindfold and although the room was in relative darkness it seemed bright to her adapting eyes.

  Dale Hargrave was sitting next by her bed. He had drawn back but still had a very satisfied look on his face.

  "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you, but I figured I should wait until you asked."

  "I didn't ask you to."

  "Yes you did. Just now. You were saying my name."

  "Bullshit."

  "I recorded it. On my phone. You want to hear it?"

  Her mind was in shock. It had felt good, so, so damn good, but she hadn’t asked for it, that was for sure.

  "I must have been asleep."

  "Did you have a nice dream?"

  She looked around her and saw Nena asleep beside her, all tucked in and wearing a little sleeping mask of her own.

  "How did we get into bed?" She looked down at herself, at least she was fully clothed, only her jacket and shoes had been removed.

  "I found you too ladies bombed out in your teepee in here. Is that how you guys normally sleep?"

  That's right. She had fallen asleep on the floor.

  "How long have I been out?"

  "Just a couple of hours. After I put you both to bed--"

  "You put me in bed?"

  He shrugged. "You can wake up with a very stiff neck if you sleep on the floor. Don’t you know that?"

  Lindsay shrugged. What do you say to that?

  "I heard you speaking. In fact I heard you calling my name so I came in to check on you." He smiled. "I saw those adorable lips of yours, for once not bickering and answering back so I couldn’t resist. I took my chance. Kill me for it if you want. It won’t happen again."

  Lindsay drew her fingers across her lips. The taste and sensation of him was still there. He felt so different to any man who had ever kissed her before. As gentle as it had been there was power there too - a quiet power that made her feel utterly desired, wanted and somehow, already claimed.

  It was a delicious, almost irresistible feeling.

  "You're a creepy fucking asshole." She hissed, trying to keep her voice down so as not to wake up Nena.

  He smiled the most gorgeous fuckable smile in history, as smug and impenetrable as ever, and then stood up.

  "Come on." He said. "It's story time." He left the room with a slow look over his shoulder that was about the sexiest thing Lindsay had ever seen next to his smile and then she lay there, shell-shocked.

  The asshole had been absolutely right. She had been dreaming and what a dream it had been. The images came flooding back and she gasped, covered her mouth with one hand and glanced at Nena lying so innocently beside her.

  "I don’t have dirty dreams…" she whispered to herself. But that was no longer true because this one had been filthy, absolutely filthy and totally delicious. She could still feel it between her legs, on her ass, on her still hard nipples. In her mind at least, Dale Hargrave had been all over her and inside her and deliciously underneath her, leaving her….

  Oh shit….

  The bed wasn't soaked but her underwear sure as hell was.

  What the hell had she been saying when he had walked into that room?

  Chapter Three

  "Voice mail, just let it go to voicemail." Lindsay muttered to herself as the phone rang. She was sitting in her modest apartment back in DC, waiting for Marco to answer her call. He would want an immediate and detailed update on her progress but she still had a lot of work to do before she was ready to tell him anything. She needed to find sources close to the Hargraves to corroborate statements Dale had made on the flight and by some ways or means she had to get her hands on any kind of documentary or photographic evidence she could in order to turn this massive pile of words into something more than just allegations and hot air.

  The phone picked up and a knot tightened in the pit of Lindsay's stomach.

  "Lindsay, thank God. I've been trying to reach since you called from, where the hell was that? Pape'ete?"

  "I was in the air Marco, no way to make contact, sorry about that. Look, I'm just calling to say that we're okay. Nena and I are back home in DC."

  "When are you coming in?"

  "I can't. I'm beat. Totally. And so is Nena. You wouldn't believe what we've been through."

  "Is it a story?"

  "Marco… brace yourself."

  "This better be a story Lindsay. I am totally serious about this."

  "Well I'm glad you are because this is going to put your little website at the top of every search engine worldwide. The story I have is going to rock a very uptight, very secretive and very conservative establishment."

  Marco's heart began to race. Was this it? Had she finally done it?

  "Get in here Lindsay. Now. Shit, forget that, I'll come pick you up myself."

  "No need Marco. Nena's babysitter is away for a couple of days so I'll be working from home."

  "Okay, whatever, you can fill me in at your place. I'm on my way."

  "Don’t come to my house Marco." Lindsay almost shouted. Marco held the phone from his ear, perplexed and getting a little nervous now.

  "Then tell me the story Lindsay. I'll take down the details over the phone."

  "It's too sensitive for that. I'm hanging up now Marco. Nena is calling me on another line."

  "I'm coming over Lindsay. Don’t go anywhere. This can’t wait."

  "Don’t do that Marco. Don’t come here. I've gotta go, but don't worry, we'll talk soon."

  She hung up and turned the phone to silent. Marco would certainly pester her by phone and email but it was unlikely he would actually come over to her apartment and if he did the house would be empty anyway. Nena and Tanya her babysitter had already left and she was heading out herself within moments to follow up on some of the names Dale had included in his run down of events.

  She checked herself in the wall mirror. Makeup and hair were okay - just about - and her business suit was bland enough for general purpose investigative activities; neither too professional and intimidating, nor too underdressed and casual.

  Her doorbell went and made her jump.

  "Shit." Who the hell is that? She wasn't expecting anyone or any deliveries.

  Marco you asshole. He had probably taken her call from his beat up old Buick while stalking her from around the block. Of course he was crazy to get her story but this was too much. She stormed to door and yanked it open with a scowl on her face but jumped again in shock when she saw who it was.

  She stood with her mouth open.

  "Hi Lindsay, may I come in?"

  "Dale… what the hell are you doing here?" She had given him false details to throw him off her trail. The last thing she needed as an investigative journalist was a security detail following her everywhere while she was exposing underworld criminal activity on the Eastern Seaboard. Besides, if she had told him the truth it would have ended everything then and there.

  "May I come in?" He repeated.

  "I'm actually kind of…"

  He put his hand to the door and stepped a foot inside.

  "This is important." He said.

  "I'll call the police." She said to him in a low voice.

  "There's no need for that. Besides, it would only delay the inevitable."

  The truth was beginning to hammer home. He must have identified her somehow, learned who she was and now he was here to shut her up.

  "You haven't been entirely honest with me Lindsay."

  He was very close to her and looking down. She had on a professional blouse but from that angle her cleavage was more than enough to send a thrill of anticipation into the tall man.

  Come on Dale. He berated himself. That isn't what you're here for.

  Not yet anyway.

  Lindsay looked down the steps outside her home. An intimidating black limo with tinted windows was parked right outside and a security detail like th
e presidential bodyguard was standing beside the car. Not exactly inconspicuous.

  "Get rid of those guys and I'll let you in." She said.

  He turned and gave a nod to his people. Without a word they melted away and the limo disappeared around the block. Lindsay watched them go and then opened the door fully for him to pass through.

  He stopped in the living room and looked around.

  "Where's Nena?" He said.

  "With her babysitter. Now what's this about?"

  "She needs protection. A child like that is an easy target and she's been kidnapped before. I don’t intend to let it happen again." He pulled out his phone and made a call.

  "She doesn't need some heavy shadowing her around."

  "My people are discreet. It'll be a female. Nena won’t even know she's there."

  "Nena is my responsibility not yours and I don’t consent to having a twenty-four hour guard following her around."

  His phone buzzed and he put it to his ear. A prompt and attentive voice crackled through the line.

  "I'm warning you." Lindsay said, ignoring the call. "I'll go straight to the police and to the FBI if I think I'm under any threat from you or your people. I'll get all the protection we'll need from them."

  "It's okay. Be on standby." He said into the phone and then ended the call. "Sit down Lindsay. We've got some talking to do."

  "And I've got places to be."

  "Where exactly? On your way to Mayweather Security to interview staff for your story?"

  Her heart pounded. This was more than just figuring out who she was. She was under surveillance.

  "Or maybe you should reconsider speaking to your boss Marco to fill him in on all the details of the story you promised to keep confidential for me."

  Shit. The game was up.

  She looked instinctively to the door as if she could somehow make a getaway, but this was her own home. Where the hell would she go to? And what about Nena?

  She took a deep breath and drew herself up before shrugging her shoulders and holding her hands up before her.

  "So you figured me out, I'm a reporter. Now what?"

  "To be specific Lindsay, you're an investigative journalist who was working a story on Mikhail Boyevik at the time of his disappearance. It was going to be a big story for a small news website. Maybe one that would put Marco's little venture on the map and maybe even stop it from folding."

  He watched her eyes as he had watched countless adversaries before her. The signs were there; slow, grudging acceptance of the inevitable. The trick now would be to transform himself from Black Knight into Knight in Shining Armor.

  Where there's a will there's a way. He reminded himself. Easy like Sunday morning.

  "Sit down Lindsay. You have nowhere to be today but right here."

  She took a deep breath and then blew out a long sigh. Cornered. Like a rat.

  "Would you like coffee?" She asked.

  "Sit down." He repeated.

  "I need coffee." She said. "Don’t worry, I'm not going to jump out the kitchen window. I still have some from breakfast and I could use a second cup. If you want some, shout."

  She went to the kitchen and filled two cups. She slowly gathered together cream and sugar, spoons and a small tray.

  It felt like a dream. A very bad dream. This could mean the end of her career. The end of Marco and AltNews. This guy hated journalists and in his mind she had double crossed him big time. The fact that he had broken international laws left right and center, falsely imprisoned people, taken the law into his own hands and concealed everything from the authorities didn't seem to register with him as being ethically worse than her little white lie to him in order to expose the truth.

  She glanced at him sitting down and looking perfectly at ease in the living area. He was as hot as ever. Did it make it any better that her life was about to be ruined by someone better looking than Hollywood? Or did it only make it that much more sadistic?

  And what had happened to Boyevik? That detail he had refused to divulge. What if they had…God, what if they had executed him? She looked down and saw her hand shaking. That might be a cold blooded killer sitting out there for all she knew.

  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, walked back to the living area and set the tray down onto the coffee table.

  "Do you take sugar?" She asked him.

  "Why did you lie to me?" He said, calmly looking up at her.

  She sat down in front of him and took another deep breath. She was trembling all over. It wasn't like she had never been caught out before when posing as a member of the general public, but this was different. She looked up at him again and took in just how good looking he was. She remembered how good he was with Nena and how the little girl seemed to adore him. If only it didn't have to be this way. If only he would just come clean about everything that had happened, including the fate of Boyevik, then maybe, just maybe they would have a chance together.

  Oh my God…

  She jumped. Was that what she really wanted here? An excuse to give on her principles and just give in to this guy like a teenage girl on prom night?

  He put his hand out onto her arm and leaned in to fix her gaze with his own. His touch was electric, thrilling, like a sunburst in the middle of the night.

  "It's okay Lindsay." He said. The simple words of reassurance sent caused a swell of emotion rise up out of nowhere in her guarded heart. "I'm not here to be mean or to make life difficult for you."

  She nodded her head.

  Oh God, don't let me cry. Please don’t let me cry. It was a long time since she had felt this vulnerable, this helpless. What the hell is wrong with me?

  "Dale… I… I just…."

  But it was too late, the first hot tear spilled down her cheek and in an instant he was by her side, hugging her close to him, pressing his lips to her forehead.

  Nice try. He thought, looking down at the top of her head. Damn journalists will use every trick in the book. First lies, now tears. He breathed in and his nostrils filled with the scent of her presence. His cock moved in his pants. Shit. He thought. Stay focused, we have a plan here, let's god damn well stick to it.

  "It's okay." He said and then repeated it until he felt that she had stopped shaking. When she looked up at him again he gazed deeply into her eyes and then pressed his lips to hers.

  Despite what neither of them wanted to feel, it was exhilarating for them both.

  God this is hot. He thought, struggling to master the beast between his legs. What is it about her? No, no, no, come on Dale, stick to the plan. He wasn't supposed to be the one getting emotionally involved here.

  Meanwhile…

  Do I want this? Lindsay thought. Is this what I really want? If I let this happen will all this shit just blow over and then Nena can have the normal life that any little girl deserves?

  Dale continued on down her neck, to her shoulders, down to her delicate collar bone, trailing kisses along her and soon she was lying down on the sofa while he undid the buttons of her blouse. He looked down at her from his hooded eyes, a smile of promise and of anticipation on his face.

  This is wrong Lindsay. She told herself as her pulse continued to gain in speed. This is worse than wrong, this is so totally fucked up.

  His hands slid around her waist, underneath her open shirt and then lifted her up towards him. It had been so long since she had been taken like this - like a plaything in the hands of an all powerful man.

  Fuck it. She thought. He's got me screwed every other way already, might as well let him finish the job.

  His lips came down to her exposed abdomen and her body responded from deep, deep inside, stirring powerfully, crying out to meet his need, drawing him in to take her fully.

  She struggled to reach up to him but he pushed her arms back down. Swiftly, expertly, he undid her belt buckle, unbuttoned her sober business slacks and then he stopped.

  "Lie very, very still." He said and she trembled in response.

  O
h my God, this is happening. She thought. I'm really going to let this happen.

  He began to lean in towards her just as violent pounding rained down on the front door. Lindsay froze but Dale's hands continued. He was slowly drawing down her drab business pants while holding her gaze. It couldn't have been sexier than if she had been wearing the latest Parisian lingerie.

  "Don't move." He repeated, clearly having no intention of letting anyone or anything get in the way of his desire

  "Lindsay. Lindsay. Are you in there? Your car's outside. God damn it open up . I know you're in there."

  "Shit." She Lindsay began clutching at the her pants to pull them back up. She knew that damn voice. "Get off of me Dale." She hissed. "That's my boss."

  Dale looked like he was ready to rip the pants in two with one mighty tear, but he resisted and pulled himself upright on his knees.

  "Hold on Marco, I'm on my way." She hollered, fumbling with her pants and blouse. Before she could stop him Dale had stood up, strode to the door in couple of long steps and yanked it open. Marco, who had been prepared to barge straight in, stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up at the tall man in front of him.

  "Who the hell are you?" He said.

  "Dale Hargrave. Ms. Day is busy."

  "The hell she is. She's my employee and she should be at work--" He stopped in mid sentence. Dale Hargrave. Shit. He knew the name.

  "I'm coming in. Get out of my way Hargrave. Lindsay! Are you okay?"

  He went to move forward but the much larger man easily blocked his way. Dale's eyes were calm but it was clear he would happily toss Marco down the steps if he gave him cause.

  "Marco. I told you not to come here." Lindsay said, appearing from behind Dale, her hair still in disarray, the collar of her blouse sticking up on one side towards the ceiling.

  Marco looked at her and then back to Dale, appraising the situation.

  "Lindsay, are you okay? Do you need me to get rid of this guy for you?"

  Dale smiled. He would like to see the little guy try.

  "I'm fine Marco, I invited him here. This is work. Now get out of here and leave us alone. I'll call you later."

  Marco gave one more long look at Dale and then shrugged.

  "I'll be waiting." He said. "Don't make me wait too long."