Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(11)

Is that what he smells like?

It was easy to imagine S packaging this dress up. His hands would be deft, folding the cloth as he took great care with the present meant only for me.

For me.

He'd called me his gift to him. He wants me to meet him tomorrow night? Lifting the letter, I read it again and again. Finally face to face. I'd get to lay eyes on the man who'd been seducing me from afar.

Once, I would have debated longer. I'd have sat up and paced, trying to weigh the danger against the benefit of agreeing to see a stranger. I didn't know S, I only felt like I did. He could be anyone, or anything.

I know what he is.

Sensual.

Wicked.

Dominant.

It was the most unlikely thing for me to hug that dress, and know in my heart what I'd decided. Against all odds, this man had changed me in such a short time.

After weeks of letters and gifts, of playing this elusive game...

I was finally going to meet S.





- Chapter Six -


Alexis

The squeak of tires outside turned my anxiety up another notch. Cracking the blinds, I peered at what was waiting for me.

The limo sat like a great panther, crouched in the shadows out on the street. One bite, and it would swallow me whole. The idea made me nauseous.

I'd felt so sure about my decision to commit to this meeting, but faced with the moment... I was fraying on my edges.

All I had to do was not open my door, not cross the sidewalk, and not climb into that limousine. If I sat right here in my unfairly magnificent dress and did nothing, everything would end. I was sure he'd refuse to give me another chance.

I'd be free.

It was so simple. But...

I want to know who he is. That information was being dangled in front of me. After weeks of surprises and alluring letters, how could I possibly cut off contact now?

Standing, I straightened my outfit and walked stiffly outside. When I appeared, the driver-side door of the vehicle opened. S had said he'd send someone, but I still froze, paranoid this stranger could actually be him.

The man wore dark, starched clothing. Silver buttons cascaded down the front of his jacket. He was older, weathered and sporting a thick white beard. He tipped his hat to me. “Evening. I'm Jessop, ma'am. Mister S sent me to pick you up.”

In my gut, I knew Jessop was exactly what he appeared to be—a chauffeur. That didn't smooth the wrinkles in my veins. Rocking in place, I clutched my purse.

“Please,” he said, opening the door for me. “Climb inside. It's very cozy.”

He isn't dangerous, I told myself firmly. I had no way to know that, I was just trusting my gut to keep me safe. Inching forward, I tried to match his easy smile. “Thanks. You can call me Alexis.”

“As you wish.” He had friendly, but perceptive, eyes. I bet he could tell how anxious I was.

Hell, anyone could.

Once I was inside the limo, I sank into the soft cushions. Around me, everything was lit up by tiny, fairy-like lights. An open bottle of wine was waiting for me. S was a smart man; in this situation, who wouldn't need a drink?

Like he'd heard my thoughts, Jessop said, “Help yourself to anything you see.”

My fingers brushed the neck of the bottle. The name on the label was foreign to me. I'm sure it costs a fortune. But he left it here so I could have it.

It was a blessing, I needed some liquid courage.

Pouring the rich, ruby liquid into a glass, I looked towards the front of the limo. Jessop still had the divider lowered.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

Motioning around, I said, “Definitely. It's really nice in here.”

He nodded in approval, guiding the limo down the street. I wanted to drill him for info, except I couldn't think of a subtle way to do it. Instead, I sipped the wine, the tart, fruity flavor spreading over my tongue like a warm sunrise.

Settling deeper in my seat, I crossed my legs and tried to enjoy the silence. Through it all, I kept swinging my foot over my knee. Every few minutes, I'd adjust on the seat, fidgeting beyond control.

Time melted into a meaningless lump. I didn't have a clue how long we'd been driving for, or where we were even headed. I'd finished the glass of wine, and was on a second, when the limo slowed down. “We're here,” Jessop said, cracking the divider.

Squinting through the tinted glass, I saw he'd parked in front of a reddish glowing entrance. There were men outside, arms crossed to show off their muscles. Security guards, I realized. What is this place? A club?

Jessop opened my door, letting the cool night air waft into the car. His gloved hand waited, body language making it obvious he expected me to step out. He wasn't being presumptuous; what else was I going to do after coming so far?

Taking his hand, I put my shaking, heeled shoe onto the curb. The men by the door looked my way. Leaning towards Jessop, I whispered, “He's inside?” The driver gave a quick nod. “Where are we, exactly?” I could see no name on the brick building.

“The Red and Ripe, one of his favorite places.” Nodding towards the doors, he ducked his head. “Go on inside, he's waiting for you.”

Waiting for me.

I hovered there, poised on that dark street that was crowded by old brick buildings and empty warehouses. I didn't know the area, but it had to be a shadier part of downtown. Was this really where I was supposed to meet S?