The Billionaire's Command
Page 38

But I didn’t want to get distracted from the real reason I was mad at him. I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at him, doing my best to look menacing, and said, “You have three minutes to explain what the fuck is going on here or I’m calling the cops.”
“You would do better to threaten me with your roommate,” Turner said. “Was that a gun in her purse?”
“Two minutes and forty-five seconds,” I said.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Fine. My brother was just released from rehab. Alcohol. This morning, actually. He needs a place to stay for a few days.”
“Yeah, what about your apartment with the two empty bedrooms?” I asked.
He held up one hand. “You’re interrupting me. The Turner Group is in the middle of a very sensitive, very complicated buyout. We’re signing the final paperwork on Friday afternoon. The sellers are nervous and looking for any excuse to get out of the deal. Will is concerned that he could be seen as a liability. As long as he was safely in rehab, it wasn’t an issue. Now that he’s out, though…”
He trailed off. I frowned at him. “This sounds really stupid. If you don’t want anyone knowing that he’s out, why don’t you just stash him in your apartment for a couple of days?”
“The doorman has been known to report on me to various gossip purveyors,” Turner said. “I can’t risk it.”
“What the fuck is a gossip purveyor?” I asked. Jesus Christ, Turner. Nobody talked like that. “Do you mean, like, TMZ?”
“More or less,” he said.
“So just put him in a hotel upstate where nobody knows or cares who he is,” I said. “You’re making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Well, that’s the other thing,” he said, and sighed. “I need someone to keep an eye on him.”
“Or what, he’ll end up at the closest bar before you can say lickety-split?” I asked.
“I do indeed detect your sarcasm, but that’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he said. “He has a disease. He’s fought very hard to overcome it, but there’s a very real possibility that he might backslide. So you see, Sassy, you’re the perfect solution. We have no discernible connection. Nobody knows who you are. You won’t betray me, because you want the rest of your money. And, to be honest, I think Will would benefit from being browbeaten by you for a few days.”
“I don’t browbeat,” I said.
“You do, but we’ll let that pass,” he said. “At any rate, I was under the impression that you lived alone. I was mistaken, and so this is no longer a tenable solution. I’ll find somewhere else for Will to stay.”
“I think that’s probably for the best,” I said. “And maybe you can call ahead next time.”
He ignored that comment. “Speaking of your roommate,” he said, “what exactly did you tell her about me?”
“Look, I had to tell her something to explain why I’m not going to work anymore,” I said. “I just told her I have a month-long arrangement with one of my clients. That’s all. I didn’t tell her your name or any details. So if you think that voids the contract, then go ahead, but I don’t like lying to the people I care about.”
“Christ, you’re mouthy,” he said. “I should take you over my knee.”
I stiffened. Our eyes met, and I felt a charge of electricity pass between us. Oh. Here we were, alone in my room with the bed only a couple of feet away, and Turner looking at me like he had just realized it too. It had been more than a week since the last time he touched me, and my body was hungry for him.
But Yolanda was right outside, and Turner’s brother, and we couldn’t.
Turner took a step toward me with a fierce light in his eyes like he was the Big Bad Wolf and I was about to get gobbled up. “Sasha,” he said.
“Don’t call me that,” I said, even though it was what I wanted most in the world, to hear my real name on his lips.
“Sasha,” he said again, more insistently, and took another step. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me close, my thighs pressing against his, and he bent down to kiss me.
Oh, I remembered this: the feeling of his mouth pressed against mine, and the way his hands slid down my back to cup my ass. I went up on my tiptoes and twined my arms around his neck, trying to get as close as I could and losing myself in the moment. He smelled wonderful and felt even better. I never wanted it to end.
He tore his mouth away from mine and gasped, “We can’t,” but then immediately kissed his way down my neck to nuzzle at the soft hollow between my collarbones. I moaned and threw my head back, giving him better access.
It was so, so tempting to just pull him down onto the bed and let nature take its course, but Yolanda was out there being forced to entertain a stranger, and I felt guilty. I couldn’t abandon her while I had furtive sex with Turner. His hair was too short for me to get a good grip, so I grabbed his ears and tugged gently, easing him away from me. “We really can’t,” I said.
He exhaled slowly and then straightened up. He let go of my ass and took a step back. “You’re right,” he said. “Christ. You’re right. I need to get Will out of here.”
“Sorry I can’t take him,” I said, because Turner was an asshole for making assumptions and showing up without asking me ahead of time, but it seemed like he cared about his brother and wanted to keep him out of harm’s way, and I respected that. I knew what it was like to worry about your family.
He gave me a crooked smile. “You see, that’s why I brought him here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He just shook his head and said, “Let’s go see if he’s utterly terrorized your roommate.”
He followed close behind me as I opened the door and went out into the living room, and I felt his hand settle at my lower back for a moment, brief as a kiss.
Yolanda and Will were sitting on the couch together, leaning close and laughing. The creaky floorboard outside my bedroom squeaked as I stepped on it, and Yolanda sat back and looked over at me—a little guiltily, I thought.
Hmm. That was interesting.
“Will, we’re going,” Turner said.
“Hold on a second,” Yolanda said. “Will explained the situation to me. If he needs to stay here for a few days, that’s fine with me.”