Tied to the Billionaire(6)

An inspiration seized him then, a stroke of brilliance that would enable him to solve multiple problems at once.

“Olivia, I have a proposition for you.” She did not resist when he led her to the automobile and installed her inside. As he breathed her lilac perfume mingled with her clean sweat, his erection grew more insistent. “There’s to be a ball this weekend at Wavecrest, my house in Newport. My mother has invited what she considers to be the cream of society, including every eligible—that is, single and wealthy—female she can think of. She’s determined to marry me off to one of these creatures, regardless of my wishes.”


“What does that have to do with me?” Her frown of perplexity delighted him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her agile mind as she tried to understand his motives.

“I need an escort, a woman to keep at my side all weekend so I can fend off the advances of all these would-be Mrs MacInytres. Come back to Newport with me. Spend the weekend. If you do, I’ll seriously consider the question of raising the workers’ salaries.”

Olivia laughed, a bright, clear sound that sent a stab of want to his groin. “Me, a poor professor’s daughter, at a society ball? I’d be as out of place as a Hottentot in the White House! I don’t have the airs and graces of a Vanpatten girl. And what would I wear?” She indicated her dusty brown frock. “I doubt very much this would be appropriate.”

“No one need know who you are—we’ll invent some mysterious identity for you. You can be the illegitimate American child of a Hungarian prince, how’s that? As for clothing, I will supply everything you’ll need.” He gave her luscious body a frank once-over that brought the blush back to her face, to his immense satisfaction. “I suspect your measurements are quite comparable to my sister Ann’s. You could wear one of her dresses. But no, that won’t do—you must be the most resplendent creature at the ball. We’ll stop at Ann’s dressmaker on the way and have you fitted for a new gown. With adequate monetary incentives, I’m sure the dress can be ready by tomorrow evening. We’ll pick up a whole kit for you, tennis and boating outfits, morning attire, underclothes. With jewels to match each ensemble, of course…”

“Mr MacIntyre, doesn’t the impropriety of what you’re suggesting bother you in the least?”

Her critical tone brought him up short. What would people say about a single young woman, unchaperoned, in Andrew’s constant company? He’d hoped she was less conventional than the women of his regular circle, but, given the importance of reputation, he couldn’t blame her for her concern.

“You’re essentially trying to buy my sympathies, aren’t you?” she continued. “You suppose that if you lavish enough money upon me, I’ll drop my support for the strike and encourage the workers to return to their looms, correct?”

“Not at all…”

“Well, it won’t work. I intend to spend every minute we are together reminding you of the plight of these poor women. I shall work upon your conscience, sir, until you have no choice but to do the right thing.”

“What? Then—you agree? You’ll come to Newport?”

“How could I pass up the opportunity to do so much good?” A smile played at the corners of her compressed lips and Andrew understood that she was teasing him. Yes, she was serious about her cause, but she wanted to join him for other reasons. Hope flared in his chest while desire hardened his loins.

“Thank you, Olivia.” He clamped his hand down upon her smaller one. Her breath hitched with excitement she could not hide. He focused all the force of his will upon her, compelling her to meet his gaze. “There’s one more thing to which you must assent.”

“Yes? What’s that?” She was brave, this woman. The girls on the lawn this morning would have wilted under that stare, but she held her own.

“You must agree to follow my orders in every particular and without question. Otherwise, your charade may be unmasked and we’ll both suffer.”

“In every particular? Even if you should command some indecency?” Her hand still lay beneath his. The pulse fluttered in her wrist like a captive bird.

“In every particular, as I said, and without question.” Full of anxiety, he searched her lovely face. Would she change her mind? “I promise I won’t allow any harm to come to you, Miss Alcott.”

She allowed the smile he’d seen her fighting to bloom. He released the breath he had not realised he’d been holding.

“I agree, Mr MacIntyre—Sir. Shall we be on our way?”



Chapter Four





Olivia perched on the satin coverlet of the carved canopy bed, surveying the impossibly opulent bedroom where she had been installed. The chamber had to be at least thirty feet square, with a gilt-encrusted ceiling that soared ten feet above her head. Tall windows framed in emerald velvet looked out upon a verdant lawn that stretched to the ocean. Distant sails danced upon slate-blue waves and the breeze wafting through the open casements carried a hint of salt. The late afternoon sun sparkled among the crystal tears of the chandelier, casting shards of rainbow upon the polished oak floor. Nearer the bed, a plush Chinese carpet soothed the residual blisters on her bare feet.

She wore one of the delicate silk camisoles Andrew had selected for her as they’d passed through the town. Nothing else. The other garments he’d chosen hung in the rosewood wardrobe, all but the ball gown, which would be delivered, the dressmaker had promised, by Saturday noon.