Billionaire Boss Page 3

  “Okay, okay,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re no fun.”

  “Probably not,” Brady said, and headed to the staircase, “but I reckon neither is Mr. Newgate.”

  “No,” I agreed. “Are you sure you can’t tell me what this is about?” I asked, walking up the stairs toward the upper terrace. It was a warm evening, and we both wanted to be outside.

  “You’re about to find out,” Brady called back.

  I followed him onto the terrace. When I arrived, he was at the other side already, by the rail. He was looking around, seeming distressed.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Your mystery man not here yet?”

  I was in no particular hurry, already looking round the bar. I could do with an hour or so to have a drink or two and some lighthearted fun. I thought of the girl I’d seen downstairs and stifled the temptation to head back down again.

  “I need to make a call,” he said.

  “Sure.”

  I waited while he pushed his way back through the growing throng to the main room.

  There wasn’t much point in pursing the waitress now – as Brady said, business first. I could hold off my libido until he came back. I leaned against the railing of the terrace, looking out at the skyline. While I was there, I heard somebody laugh. A nice, warm laugh, it drew my attention. I turned and stared.

  At the other side of the room, on her phone, was a sexy woman. Her appearance made my fleeting thoughts of the girl downstairs fade away. Tight navy jeans and a loose blue blouse showed off her curves and, with, her blonde hair framing an oval face, she was stunning.

  My eyes clung to her. I stared at the slim waist, the full bust, her big smile. She was laughing on the phone, and something about her warm self-confidence drew me in even more than her appearance. I felt my fingers tingle and my stomach tighten.

  I found myself heading along the rail.

  “Yeah! I’m up here. Where are you?” she was laughing on the phone. “Okay! I’m waiting. Hold on…”

  She wasn’t looking at me, but over the railing, down into the parking lot, as if she was looking for somebody. I drew in a breath and studied her. She had a firm, round ass, and a sweet figure and my cock started to ache as my eyes devoured her.

  “Okay, fine!” she said, still laughing on the phone. “Stop stressing, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She gestured with an elegant hand. I desperately wanted to talk to her, but how? She was on the phone.

  As I watched, suddenly an idea occurred to me. A waiter was passing, and, as he walked close to her, I walked into him.

  “I’m so sorry!” the waiter exclaimed, the contents of his tray spilling, as I had planned, on me. “I’m so sorry sir.”

  My target had turned around, her phone call ended, staring at us. The spillage had hit me but, as I had hoped, avoided wetting her. I fumbled in my pocket looking for a tissue, then turned to her.

  “Sorry, Miss,” I said. “Do you have a tissue?”

  She raised a brow. “Maybe,” she said.

  She was looking at me with a strange expression on her face, one brow cocked and eyes searching my face, as if she was trying to recall where she might have met me. Nevertheless, she found a tissue in her black leatherette handbag, and passed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “So sorry, sir,” the waiter said again, bringing my attention back to him. “Let me get you a drink.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling. “And whatever the lady is having is on me, too.”

  She frowned. “Really? Um, Thanks,” she said slowly, looking skeptical.

  “My pleasure,” I grinned. Her lips had parted, and the expression was so sexy I clenched a fist to control the tension. My body was responding to her with desperate urgency, and I needed to get a handle on it before I made a fool of myself.

  At that moment, I caught sight of Brady.

  He was staring at us both, and that seemed to have an effect on her, too.

  “Adam!” he said, looking tense. “There you are! Look who it is!”

  “Adam?” the stunning girl said, horrified. “Adam Stern? No fucking way.”

  4

  Cassidy

  I stared at him. The rest of the world, including my brother, faded momentarily from my vision.

  Adam Stern. This big-shouldered, blue-eyed, absolute vision of a man, was Adam Stern?

  You did think he looked familiar; a small part of my mind reminded me. Now you know why.

  I had been quite interested in the guy for a moment there, I had to admit. I shivered. What a horrible thought. It felt like having found myself interested in Count Dracula or something.

  Adam Stern, my brother’s best friend, was somebody I remembered as more than a bit of a jerk. Okay, not Count Dracula, exactly, but still not the kind of person I would want to admit to finding attractive. When we were kids – he fourteen, me just eight– we had hated each other. At least, I had hated him.

  Come on, Cassidy. You know that if he hadn’t just ignored you, things would have been different.

  I had to admit it, I had always fancied Adam just a bit, but he had always ignored me. Combined with his habit of speaking over my head to Brady as if I didn’t exist, or taking my brother running away across the park with him whenever I appeared, it had made my vague interest develop into a passionate dislike.

  I didn’t just dislike him, as a kid. I loathed him.

  Now, all six-foot-six of him looked down at me with those sparkling blue eyes.

  I felt my emotions warring inside me. Part of me saw him for what he was, a gorgeous mountain of man I’d be more than happy to climb. But the part that remembered what a prick he’d been when we were kids, saw him as just a grown-up version of the asshole he’d been when we were kids.

  Stepping back, I assessed him again.

  Shoulders that were broad and level strained at his jacket, blue eyes twinkling at me. He had a figure that fairly burgeoned with muscle, legs thick with it, hands strong, waist slim, and he was beyond gorgeous. He was also staring at me with a mix of surprise and something like shock, which annoyed me.

  We’ll see if two can play at that game, buster.

  “You’re Adam?” I said lightly. “I sort of remember you.”

  That bit him, I thought with some satisfaction. Those blue eyes widened and then narrowed. I wondered if I had offended him with my feigned indifference. He looked upset and I bit back a grin.

  “Cassidy?” he said. He swallowed hard, and he seemed to be recovering from some kind of shock.

  “Adam,” Brady said, looking at his friend with some appeal. “You remember Cassidy? My little sister? I wanted you to catch up with each other.”

  Adam was looking at me with utter surprise, eyes big and blue, opening and shutting like an owl. I turned and stared at Brady.

  “What the hell, Brady?” I asked.

  “Yeah, what’s this about?” Adam asked.

  In utter confusion, we were, temporarily, united. My eyes met Adam’s.

  “Um,” Brady said, clearing his throat. “Well. Cassidy, Adam had some difficulties lately with his company. And, well, seeing as you are a PR expert, I thought …”

  “Wait, he owns his own company?” I interrupted.

  “She’s the PR savior?”

  Again, Adam interrupted me. Again, we both stared at my brother.

  “Well,” Brady said carefully. “I thought it was a good idea if you got to know each other.”

  I looked at Adam. He looked at me. I could see he felt as helpless and confused as I was. He cleared his throat, then coughed. He seemed temporarily robbed of speech. I tried not to let a sour smile cross my lips.

  Finding it hard to talk to me, eh? Still think of me as a nerdy kid?

  I lifted my eyes to his, staring into those sapphire depths. I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me.

  “So,” I said carefully. “You have a company. You want to tell me about it?”

  Adam coughed. “Um, well, may
be it would be better if we sat down with Brady, and…”

  We both looked at Brady. He had his phone out, and his brow was raised, fingers frantically texting. I coughed.

  “Brady?” I said, “Should we go and sit down?”

  “What?” he jumped, as if he had been concentrating so hard, he hadn’t heard me. I bit back a grin. Was my brother texting a girl?

  “I said, shall I find us a table?” I asked.

  “Let’s go there,” Adam said firmly.

  He was indicating a table on the edge of the terrace which had just been cleaned off. It was well-situated, right at the rail with a beautiful view over the skyline. I had to admit it was perfect, but that annoyed me more. I had offered to go and find one.

  He pushed his way toward it, waving me onward, as if he was the teacher and Brady and I recalcitrant pupils.

  “Come on,” he said without turning around. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re not a captain, and this isn’t a ship,” I muttered, not thinking he could hear me. He turned around.

  “I am a captain,” he grinned. “You should see my yacht.”

  “Yacht?” I stared at him. Adam Stern, a moderately well-off suburban kid, had a yacht?

  He beamed. He looked proud and I instantly regretted my surprise.

  “Yes,” he said. “I don’t get much chance to use it at the moment, but it’s in the harbor. You can come and see it anytime,” he added generously.

  “Thanks,” I said grimly. “But I don’t have much time nowadays.”

  We looked at each other. I made myself hold his gaze, feeling the same irritation I’d always felt about Adam, mixed with a strange, shivery feeling. My body seemed to be incapable of loyalty to my mind, and, no matter how much I told it that this was Adam Stern, the big bully from my youth, it insisted on telling me something different.

  This guy is stunning.

  My hands had clenched in my lap, sweating, and I made them unclench. I made myself breathe and told myself, again and again, to ignore Adam Stern.

  When I looked up, studiously avoiding those blue eyes, Brady had just picked up his phone again. This time, I could see the tense, worried expression in his eyes. His brow was furrowed, and he was texting fast.

  “Brady?” I asked, making him look up at me. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” he said briskly. “Look, should we order some drinks?” He put the phone into his pocket, but I could see his hand twitch, as if he felt a compulsive need to check it again.

  “Sure,” I said. I wondered what had gotten into my cheerful older brother. Brady never got stressed, not over anything. At least when he did, he hid it from me.

  “I’ll go to the bar?” Adam offered, smiling ingratiatingly at me. “What would you like, Cassidy?”

  “A beer,” I said quickly. I felt uncomfortable. Adam Stern was getting me a drink? Why? When we were kids, he wouldn’t have got me anything, except possibly into trouble.

  I shot a suspicious glance at him. He wasn’t doing anything, though, except looking at my brother with a concerned frown that touched me because it matched my own.

  “Brady?” he said gently. “You want a beer, too, huh?”

  “Yes, a beer,” Brady said, not looking up. His phone was out again, and he’d gone white.

  When Adam had gone, I put a hand on Brady’s knee. He jumped.

  “Cassidy! Whoa, you scared me.” He looked up; eyes wide with alarm.

  “Sorry,” I said, feeling a twinge of alarm myself. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” he said quickly. Then, to my surprise, he pushed himself up from the seat and stood. “Sorry,” he said. “I have to go. It’s pretty urgent actually. Tell Adam, when he comes back, please. I’ve got to go.”

  “Sure,” I said, feeling my heart thump with worry. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he waved a hand to calm me. “It’s nothing bad. Look, just talk to Adam, will you?” he asked. He was looking into my eyes, with that brown gaze – so like my own in color – worried and gentle.

  “Okay,” I promised.

  “I think you can help each other,” Brady said, smiling at me.

  Then, before I could say anything, ask anything, he left.

  I fidgeted in my seat, feeling confused and uncomfortable.

  “Brady?” I called after him. But he had already disappeared, shouldering his way through the crowd.

  “Damn,” I swore.

  I didn’t blame Brady for leaving – whatever it was, it really was urgent, if his face was anything to judge from. I was mad at him for dumping me here with Adam, though. What was I supposed to say to him?

  The sound of a laugh drew my head up and I looked over at the bar to where Adam was shouldering his way back through the crowd. Dressed in a well-cut business suit, his dark hair well-styled too, he stood out even in the room of well-dressed, well-groomed people. He moved between the tables with lithe grace, a testimony to how strong and powerfully built he was. His legs were thick with muscle, and I could easily imagine him on the field, a star quarterback. The last I had heard about him, that was what he’d been.

  I expected one of Brady’s boring financial friends.

  I had put a lot of effort into hating Adam as a kid. And the fact that he looks like he comes out of a Disney movie – except that Disney would have had to x-rate him for the kids – doesn’t help me too much.

  Of all the things I had expected to happen that evening, ending up at a bar alone with Adam Stern - especially a sexy, friendly, and appealing Adam Stern – was absolutely not one of them.

  I felt my tummy tingle. I looked down at my blouse. I had actually dressed a little provocatively with the top few buttons down. It had been deliberate – a plan just to shock the accountant or Investec expert Brady was planning to introduce me to. Now, I reached for my blazer and shrugged into it, feeling just a little self-conscious.

  Stop it, Cassidy. You are not interested in him. You hate him, remember?

  I jumped as he appeared at our table.

  “Here,” he said, smiling. “You cold?”

  “What? Oh,” I shrugged, recalling I’d slipped my blazer on over my blouse. “Not really.”

  He noticed I’d put the blazer on?

  The thought sparked new sensations in my tummy, making it tingle. The last thing Adam Stern’s arrogant head needed was for me to be drooling over him, so I hoped he couldn’t read the flush in my cheeks, the change in my breath.

  “Where did Brady go?” he asked, sliding into his seat. As he sat down, wincing a little as he rolled his shoulder, I couldn’t help noticing the muscled bulk of him. He took up the whole chair, and I found myself wondering just what he looked like under those clothes.

  “He had to go somewhere. Urgent,” I added, as Adam frowned.

  “Strange,” he said. He leaned back in the chair. “Is he okay?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “Well, he’ll tell one of us, if it’s urgent,” Adam said, sounding unconcerned. “So,” he said, turning back toward me, eyes focusing on my face. “What brought you to back Boston?”

  I tensed. Telling the story was not going to be easy. I decided to go carefully.

  “Um, work,” I said. “I’m looking for a new job.”

  “Oh?” he frowned. “Your brother mentioned you were in PR, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  Our drinks arrived at that moment, and I thanked the waiter, then lifted my beer, sipping it. I regarded him over the edge of the pint glass, feeling slightly tense. I still didn’t know what this was about. Brady had suggested it could be good for my career to be here, though; so, I guessed I ought to be playing this carefully.

  “I was in PR,” I amended when the waiter had gone. “I was the head of PR, actually.”

  “Wow,” Adam said. He lifted his glass, a salute. “Well done. That’s amazing.”

  I blushed and felt annoyed with myself for doing so. Dammit! Why couldn’t my body just
behave? I didn’t want him to see what an overwhelming effect he was having on me!

  I flicked a glance over him. He was leaning forward in his chair, and his eyes were kindling too. I put my glass down. Stared at him in what I hoped was a composed manner.

  “Thanks,” I said dryly.

  “What happened?” he asked. “I mean, if you had such a great job, what brought you back here?” He sounded generally interested. I wondered idly if there was more than beer in that glass.

  “Um, just some personal stuff,” I said uncomfortably. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

  “Oh,” he said. Again, I wondered at the small frown that crossed his brow. Adam Stern wasn’t the sort of person to concern himself with me. He had teased me mercilessly when we were both kids, after all. I felt confused.

  “And you?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject. “How are you?”

  “Okay,” he said. He didn’t sound convinced.

  “Brady said you own your own company now?” I asked.

  “Um, yes,” he said uncomfortably. “I do. Hopefully I still will, by the end of this week.” He gave a chuckle; not a happy sound.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Um, stuff,” he said. “I don’t want to go into it.”

  Our eyes met as he echoed my earlier words.

  He lowered his glass. The full weight of those blue eyes held mine, swimmingly. In that moment, I felt we had some kind of understanding.

  “I see,” I said quietly.

  I lifted my glass again. We looked at each other. Neither of us said anything.

  “When you…”

  “I was thinking…”

  We both spoke together, and I blushed.

  “Sorry,” Adam said. He smiled at me – a genuine smile, this time; not the flirty one he’d given me before. “What were you saying?”

  “I was just thinking that it’s been a long while,” I said awkwardly. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

  “Well,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “We do have a lot to catch up on.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess we do.”

  “So is your move back home permanent?” he asked.