His Strict Requirement: Billionaire Secrets - Book Five Page 5

  He looked back at Dale again and the slight smile on the handsome face sent a wave of homicidal anger through him. He was just like the jocks at school who used to rile him for kicks, but he had his own ways of getting even now.

  I bet we can find some dirt on you big guy. He thought. Something you might not be so damn smug about when the whole internet is talking about it.

  He gave the tycoon a glare and then headed down the steps. He looked back when he reached the sidewalk but the door was still open but the couple were paying no attention to him. It was as if he didn't exist.

  A spasm of grief went through him.

  Sure he could drag the big asshole's name through the mud but it would be a waste of time. It would only make Lindsay despise him even more. She had obviously been fucking the guy. He had left it too late. Again.

  She was gone.

  ********************

  Dale looked Lindsay, the door was still hanging open. Her hair was still a little wild, her jacket open and blouse not quite done up.

  His cock hardened again.

  "Jesus Christ." He growled. "What is it about a little messed up hair that makes women like you so damn hot?" He circled his arm around her waist and drew her in against him.

  "Let go of me." She pushed herself back from his firm chest.

  "Huh? I don’t get it." He said, holding onto her.

  She felt his hardness against her hip and abdomen and for a moment she hesitated, after all, what did she have to lose now? She was already compromised, Marco was pissed with her anyway, Nena was out of the house for the rest of the day and there was a hot, horny hunk of man-cake primed and ready to fuck her into heaven right there on the living room floor.

  "That's better." Dale growled, feeling the hesitation. He pressed his lips to hers and with one hand to her ass, squeezed her abdomen in close against him.

  Ooooh fuuuuuuuck…

  She felt herself giving way. His mouth continued devouring hers and she tilted her head back, welcoming him in.

  The thrill of pure, stolen, seize-this-moment passion ran through her. All she ever did was work, work, work, sleep and then whatever energy she had left was devoted to Nena.

  This would her moment, just this once.

  Marco would come round, he always did. Making love to Dale would leave him just as compromised as her and put them on a level playing field. His brother Clayton and Ruben Mayweather would crucify him for sleeping with an investigative journalist. He had already royally screwed up by insisting on taking them to Pape'ete and then on to Washington DC.

  Shit. That's what this is about.

  She stiffened against him.

  "Dale. Stop. Stop it now. I can't do this."

  "Yes you can." He rumbled into her neck.

  "Dale. No. I mean it." She shouted at him and shoved him back.

  He stopped moving, released her and then stood up straight.

  "I don’t get it. I really don’t get it." He said. "You know this feels right so why hold back?"

  "There's nothing right about this. Nothing at all. Not for me and certainly not for you. I'm running this story." She said, backing away from him. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me. Nothing legal anyway. Now please leave." She opened the door but he pushed it closed again. Her heart pounded. She was playing with fire here. Sure he was no criminal but he was a very powerful man with a reputation for being absolutely ruthless in business. In reality there was a whole lot he could do to mess with her very precarious life.

  She waited, readying herself to counter whatever threat or bribe he was going to make.

  "Go out with me." He said, looking down at her with his dark, intense eyes. Her heart beat even faster. Had he just said what she thought he said?

  "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me. I want a date. An old fashioned date." Dale was as stunned by his proposal as the dumbstruck woman in front of him and his heart had begun to pound as well. Normally that meant that he was either ready to slug someone in the jaw or demolish them in bed, but as crazy as it was to him, this was just pure nerves.

  He had to admit it - he wanted this woman. He wanted her badly and up to a few seconds ago he was sure he already had her. But now she was standing up to him like no woman ever had before and he was done screwing around with mind games - blunt and direct was more his style anyway.

  "Are you out of your mind?" Lindsay said, frantically searching his eyes for what the hell this meant, what the new angle was. "I'm about to blow your story a mile high and you want to go on a date with me?"

  "I'm not out of my mind and I'm going to trust you, God damn fool that I am, that you won't blow this story until at least after you've spent an evening with me. If you want to go ahead and… and… shoot yourself in the damn foot tangling with Hargrave and Mayweather Incs after that, then you can be my guest."

  His eyes looked as frantic as hers for just a micro second and then sank back to impenetrable black and brown.

  "But don’t expect me to come running to pick up the pieces for you if you're really that stupid." He added.

  "You heard my boss, he wants this story by today. Is this you're last resort to keep a lid on it? Charm the silly little girl reporter out of doing her job?" She laughed. "It'll add a little texture to the story at least. The billionaire's last ditch attempt to wine and dine the journalist in a futile bid to prevent the truth from being revealed. Good one Hargrave, nice human touch."

  "You really have no idea what you're getting into Ms. Day, do you?" He sounded completely calm now, his total self-confidence returned. It would have been enough to put serious doubts in most people's minds but not Lindsay. This was his shtick, his corporate poker face - he was bluffing now, she was sure of it.

  "So you're doing me a favor Hargrave, is that it? You're saving me from my own foolishness in trying to publish this story."

  "You could put it like that. I wouldn't, but you're a reporter so I'm sure you're very expert in twisting people's words against them."

  "Nice. Insult my profession again."

  "You could also say that I'm an interested single guy asking a very attractive woman out on a date."

  Don’t Lindsay, don't…

  He sounded so sincere, he looked so hot - just ready to eat - the little touch of vulnerability mixed with untouchable self-confidence and power.

  She sighed and looked up at him. Maybe he was on the level but she just couldn't take that risk and no matter what he said, he was still the story and that was her highest commitment as a journalist.

  Not to mention keeping her job and paying her rent.

  "Look, Dale," she said, softening her tone and putting her hand to his arm. "You're a nice guy, at least I think you are, but don’t flatter yourself that you're doing me any favors here. You have no idea who I am and the reality is that it's me who's doing you a favor here. If we got involved, who do you think really stands to lose out more? I don't have a multi-billion dollar company to send down the tubes."

  He looked down at her hand and she drew it away.

  "Trust me." He said. "I'll be alright. It's pretty hard to lose twenty billion dollars, give or take a billion here or there. But believe me Lindsay, if you release this story it won’t be me you have to worry about and even I may not be able to protect you. Ruben Mayweather and my brother Clayton will make you and your little mom and pop news website wish you'd never heard of them." He shook his head with every appearance of genuine sympathy. "Our lawyers deal with shit like this every day of the week and your little fart of a boss Marco won't have a chance in hell of making anything stick. They'll dig up plenty about him though, they always do." He looked at her, willing her to believe that there was no malice in what he was saying. "If that happens and I can't stop it, then where exactly do you think that leaves you and Nena?"

  His words chilled her. He was so cocksure. Was this the reality? Could the truth be crushed that easily by whoever had the biggest bank account, the sharpest lawyers?

  No wa
y. No fucking way. She stared back at him with grim determination. That wasn’t what she was raised to believe. Presidents and giant corporations have been brought down in the past by individual reporters working on a shoestring, people just barely getting by. The whole Hargrave empire, no matter how inviolable it appeared now could come crashing down if she could get the witnesses and evidence she needed. Dale, Clay and their sociopathic buddy Mayweather would end up behind bars the same way as any other criminal in the United States of America.

  One law for all. She had to believe in the system.

  "I'm calling your bluff Hargrave." She said. "Now get out of my house. I've got nothing else to say to you."

  She opened the door wider and stood back to let him leave but before she could escape his grasp he drew her in again with one strong hand to the small of her back and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment she relented but then pushed him away. Again.

  "Get out Dale. Please. Just go."

  "Okay Lindsay, I'm going, but here, take this." He handed her a card that had nothing on it but his name and number. "You take a rain check on that date now but when all this is over, no matter how it pans out, I'll call you and we can pick up right where we left off." He looked at her with the sexiest, most mischievous eyes imaginable, as though the whole thing, her story, his threats and warnings, were all just a silly game easily banished from his mind. "In the meantime, if you see sense and change that stubborn mule mind of yours, or if you need me for anything at all, you call me. Any time, day or night, don’t hesitate." He leaned in to kiss her but she drew away. He drew back, still holding out his card and then smiled as she snatched it from his hand. He turned and left without so much as a glance behind him. He didn't need to; her taking his card was all he needed. This story was far from over.

  Closing the door behind him Lindsay leaned her back against it and then slid down to the floor. She looked at the simple card in her hand - his direct phone number. Probably there were people who would kill to have this connection with the joint boss of Hargrave Robotics.

  She tore the ridiculously understated card into tiny pieces and threw them into the soil of her ficus plant beside the front door. It was a number she was never going to call.

  ********************

  "So let me get this straight," Marco leaned back in his slightly threadbare leather chair. "Clayton Hargrave of Hargrave Robotics got involved with a fugitive from the Witness Protection Program by the name of Nadia Komerov. She was in the program for testifying against Russian Mafia kingpin Mikhail Boyevik who turns out to be her father - which even she didn’t know. He tries to kidnap her in revenge but she is rescued by secret lover Clayton Hargrave and his big brother Dale."

  "That's the bones of it."

  "And you know all of this because you fucked Dale in order to get the story." He spoke quietly but his rage was all the more evident because of it.

  "I. Did. Not. Fuck. Him."

  They glared at each other for several tense seconds.

  "Whatever." Marco said, breaking off. "We can discuss that later. Komerov is rescued by Clay Hargrave and his brother Dale, who you deny fucking," Lindsay rolled her eyes, "and Ruben Mayweather of the notorious Mayweather Services private security giant. Then, instead of going to the authorities they imprison him on a remote island owned by Mayweather. Am I clear so far?"

  Lindsay nodded her head.

  "Then his mafia buddies bust him out with the help of Nadia's mother but the billionaire boys' club save the day again. Somehow you get involved as a random hostage--"

  "It wasn't random. They grabbed me to shut me down and then used me as a hostage to put pressure on Mayweather and the Hargraves."

  "So, they took you hostage but the incredible Billionaire Brothers and their sidekick Boy Mayweather saved the day and rescued you all."

  "Why are you treating it like a joke Marco? This story is huge and it could put AltNews on the map, generate clicks, bring in advertising revenue--"

  "If you had proof for any of it then yes, maybe, but all I have is your word against the Hargrave and Mayweather legal teams. We have nothing Lindsay, do you understand me? Nothing. Nada. Rien. Nichts. And you…" He looked shamefacedly down at the floor, "you need to find another job."

  He looked back up at her and had to steel himself. Those beautiful eyes had haunted him since he first met Lindsay Day back in grad school. They had taken media and journalism classes together and she had always been a rule breaker even then. He had always been the worrier, the uptight one and he had always known she didn’t go for guys like him. It had pained him throughout college to watch her go from one irresponsible boyfriend to the next while he waited, hoping that one day she would wake up and see the good thing that was sitting right in front of her nose.

  Five years after graduation and one short lived marriage and divorce later it had seemed like things were somehow coming full circle when he had been in a position to offer her a job with his new start up interactive news website. It was the only way he could think of to bring her back into his life, messed up as it was, but now it had come to this in the end. He was firing her.

  Way to go Marco. Smooth as ever. He berated himself.

  She still hadn't said a word.

  "Did you hear me Lindsay?"

  "I heard you." She half whispered. She looked stunned, but how could she have not known this was coming?

  I'm sorry Lindsay. Truly, but that's the way it is. I warned you this was your last chance and you let me down again."

  Now it was Lindsay's turn to drop her eyes in shame. He was right. Her goofy friend from college had made good and put some trust in her and she had screwed it all up for both of them and for Nena as well.

  "It's okay Marco. It's me who should be sorry. Look, I won’t make this any harder for you than it already is, but I swear to you, if give me just one last chance at this I promise you I can come up with all the evidence we need."

  Marco shook his head.

  "Is this supposed to be making it easier for me Lindsay?"

  "Okay, Marco, look, go ahead and fire me, that's fine, but you can't stop me working this story and when I have what we need--"

  "No. Lindsay, Jesus Christ, can't you just let it go?"

  "Marco, I know you don’t believe me--"

  "I didn’t say that, I just don’t have the means to back you up on this one. Those guys are barracudas, they'll chew us up if we don’t have solid evidence. I'm all for taking these guys down, and I will, but right now you don't have squat."

  "I'll get the evidence. I'll get documents, I'll get photos, I'll get video, I'll even get sworn on-the-record statements, the whole deal, but all I need is a little more time."

  "And money. You would need money too."

  "Okay, yes. And money. I might need a little."

  "Then you need a job."

  "Take me on as a freelancer and pay my expenses. Just until I can break this story. I swear to you this involves government, the mob, famous playboy billionaires, the hi-tech and security industries, government contracts, false imprisonment, hostages, kidnapping and possibly multiple homicides."

  Marco sat up, concerned.

  "Did you see people get killed?"

  "No, nothing like that, but Boyevik and his guys have disappeared off the face of the earth again. It's the missing piece of the puzzle, the part that Dale refused to share with me."

  "So you're telling me that Mayweather and the Hargraves executed these Mafia guys for screwing with their girlfriends?"

  "I'm saying that I don’t know what happened to them but that I will definitely find out and it that it won’t take me a long time to do it."

  Marco sat staring at her. He was a very good looking man in his own way. Tall, but not massive like Dale, more of a Johnny Depp style pretty boy than the rugged, powerful beast that Dale Hargrave was. He drummed his delicate fingers on the desk.

  "Does it involve you screwing Hargrave again to get pry secrets out of him?"

  The
image that flashed through Lindsay's mind was like a brush fire in July. She almost felt that massive, powerful body crushing against her, surging upwards from below as she pressed down on him. Fuck, the experience would be worth having for a whole lot less than a business and career saving story, but still it would be using him in a way that she couldn’t condone.

  Not to mention using her own body in way that would sicken her for the rest of her days.

  "No way." She said.

  Marco stared at her.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure."

  "Then what's this?" He said, pushing an envelope across the desk at her. She stared at it uncomprehendingly.

  "Open it." Marco said.

  Her stomach twisted slightly. It had only been hours since she had been with Dale and she had been ready to sleep with him until Marco banged on her front door. She pulled open the envelope and drew out the documents inside.

  'Copies for you.' The attached sheet of paper read. 'Copies for the gossip press have been retained.'

  Underneath the sheet was series of photographs of her pressed against Dale Hargrave standing in her half open front entrance.

  Her mouth dropped open in shock.

  "Where did you get these?"

  "They were delivered here by courier this afternoon. I presume they were taken shortly after you asked me to leave your apartment."

  "That fucking asshole."

  "Yes. Quite."

  She threw the photos back down on his desk.

  "So what's the real story Lindsay. Is that why he flew you and Nena home? Are you his MILF? Or more accurately his ALF - the auntie he’d like to fu--"

  "Stop it Marco. I swear to you that nothing happened between us. He made a pass at me and I turned him down, so get over it already."

  "These photos," he held one up, "tell kind of a different story."

  Lindsay swallowed hard. She was struggling. There was no doubt about it, the couple in the photo were locked in one hell of a passionate embrace, Dale was all over her, lost in that kiss, and she was molded into him like he was her all and everything.