Hard Interest: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 3

  “Already panicking about your outfit. Are you sure this isn’t a date?”

  I shot her a look before I shut my office door behind me and locked it.

  “Well that was a fun little stare. It seems he’s brought the animal out in you. Which I understand wholly. I don’t know if I’d be able to keep my hands off a tasty dish like him,” Jasmine said as she walked alongside me. “He’s got this rough around the edges, manhandle-you-into-submission look that probably has every woman magnetized around him.”

  She took the words right out of my mouth.

  I wasn’t the kind of woman to enjoy the well-tailored suit. Every man could own a tailored suit. But the suit didn’t make the man. I appreciated a unique sense of style. One that was owned by the person instead of a style that forced someone into a box. It’s what bred confidence. Strength. Sensuousness.

  A man owned by his clothes couldn’t be owned by me.

  “This guy has no idea at what he’s gotten himself into. It would give me an immense amount of joy for you to keep your phone on during the meeting. It’s always fun to see you work your magic. I’ll settle for hearing about it, though. So, commit every detail to memory.”

  “Well, don’t wait up for me,” I said as I pressed the elevator button. “I doubt I’ll be coming back to the office today. I have a few places that I want to show him during sunset.”

  “Do your panties match that sunset?” Jasmine asked.

  The elevator door dinged open and I stepped in without answering her question.

  The restaurant was within walking distance. So, a taxi wasn’t necessary. I enjoyed exercise and my body was a temple of good health. Plus, the walks allowed me to survey the people on the sidewalk for potential clientele. It allowed me to be a walking advertisement for the empire I’d built.

  I bypassed employees still grumbling about having their livelihoods threatened. There was no denying a lot of them would be looking for other jobs in the coming days. Some would jump ship expecting its female captain to go down with the vessel, which only made my job easier. I was going to turn a corner and come out on the other side stronger because of it, no matter what they thought.

  Men always underestimated my keen ability to predict my own business future.

  My only worry was Jasmine. She hadn’t been the least bit affected by my bombshell of possible pink slips. Granted, she had blossomed from a dainty flower into a ferocious lion. When I first found her, I knew she had the tenacity and the potential to go far. But her struggle with her own confidence and self-image held her back. Underneath my tutelage, however, that vanished. And from it sprang a very confident woman that on several occasions could stand toe-to-toe with me.

  I did worry senselessly about her trying to usurp my authority.

  I made every effort to avoid the cracks in the sidewalk. Superstitious wasn’t how anybody else would describe me. I had a flair for the dramatic. I despised black cats and did my best to avoid walking under ladders. It was that irrational fear of the unknown that was a closely-guarded secret of mine. A weakness I let no one else onto.

  The pomp-and-circumstance helped shield that weakness.

  The restaurant came into view and I grinned. The quaint sign boasted of one of the most sought-after dining experiences in the city. The food stood above the rest and the service was exemplary. A business I had no problems supporting with my own money. The owner was a flamboyant Italian immigrant always begging me for my Greek recipes.

  Anthony caught me at the entrance, bestowing upon me a kiss to both cheeks.

  “He showed up twenty minutes ago and wasn’t very happy. And his sour mood didn’t get any better when I told him you already ordered for both parties.”

  “Perfect. Did you give him a nice pat on the rear?” I asked.

  “I wish I would’ve known that was acceptable beforehand,” he said with a grin.

  He took me by the elbow and hooked his hand underneath to pat mine reassuringly. Anthony always had a way of reminding me of my father.

  “I brought him here to impress upon him the importance of hiring the right real estate agent. I couldn’t think of any place better to woo him. The food here is an experience that has people talking around the water cooler the next day, Anthony.”

  “Good luck,” he said as he relinquished me to the back room. “The appetizer will be at your table shortly.”

  Their food was a fusion of different cultures under one roof. The chef was worldly with a wealth of knowledge when it came to cuisine. French culinary arts and infamous Italian recipes. South American spices and Indian delicacies. But it was their discretion that kept me coming back more than anything else.

  Liam’s back was toward me in a private booth with a flicker of candlelight to lend to the romantic atmosphere in the air. There was a flute of champagne in his hands and I was reminded of how that particular libation tickled my nose.

  But that certainly wasn’t the drink I’d ordered for him.

  “Philomena Wright to see you,” the waiter said.

  I watched as Liam stood and turned on his heels. The pair of blue jeans he donned would have required a blade saw to get him out of them. He rose higher and higher, towering over my form as I walked to my side of the booth. His bright blue eyes were clouded by the shadows playing off his features as the candles flickered in the dim lighting. And the leather jacket slung over his shoulders wrinkled as his muscles flexed. His dark red hair was slicked back, falling behind his ears and all the way down to his shoulders.

  His fucking button-down shirt was so tight I could see the outline of the divots of his chest.

  I was momentarily stunned into silence by how he hovered over me. I felt myself salivating over him. What I wouldn’t give to see a towering man like him on his knees for me. The man was an Irish delicacy wrapped in a package I wanted to unwrap with my teeth.

  But it was his greeting that caught me off-guard.

  It was intimate. Close. I was surprised by the passionate hug he used. His large arms wrapped around me and his massive hands splayed along my back, encompassing the whole of me. The scent of his cologne made my legs tremble and the feel of his breath against my neck sent shivers down my spine.

  And still, I couldn’t speak.

  “Philomena Wright. How lovely to finally meet you.”

  His Irish lilt was music to my ears.

  His accent was stronger in person. He held me tightly against him and I felt my curves fill up the dips of his musculature. I felt the power I held over him draining. Heat pooled between my legs as my hands came up and patted him lightly on the back. And when he finally released me, I slid into the booth with my heart beating a dramatic rhythm against my chest.

  Liam

  Her speechlessness was empowering. Silencing the infamous Philomena Wright wasn’t a feat all too easily reached by most. But the press of her body against mine felt a little too familiar for my taste. I shook the feeling from my bones, figuring it was simply the way her clothes clung to her curves a little too tight. I’d had many women in this town splayed out on my kitchen table so I could devour their bodies. It wouldn’t shock me in the slightest if she had been one of those during a night where passion was the drink of choice and darkness was the only requirement.

  She certainly looked like my type.

  Her flustered demeanor was obvious by the way she played with her food. Pushing it around her plate but never spearing it to eat. The fork was clasped in her delicate hands, but the pinch of her fingers was white. She shifted every so often in her seat—like she couldn’t get comfortable—and barely said a word since sitting down.

  Exactly how I wanted her to be.

  The escargot was surprisingly delicious. I didn’t let on that was my first time trying it, however. I didn’t want to give Philomena the wherewithal that she had something over me. I changed the venue, but it was obvious she called to nail down the menu for both of us before coming. Which meant we were playing for keeps. Playing for who had the
upper hand in this negotiation. And the undeniable truth of my game was how her chest flushed. The deep pigment of pink was an aphrodisiac I didn’t take lightly, and the outline of her nipples could be clearly seen through her blouse.

  I had her where I wanted her. But someone was going to have to break the silence hanging between us.

  “I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience, changing where we were going to meet. It wasn’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I saw no reason why we couldn’t mix dinner with business. Everyone has to eat, and I haven’t eaten yet today,” I said.

  “No inconvenience. How was the escargot? The first time trying it is always an interesting experience, so I’m told.”

  Her eyes fluttered up to mine, watching for my reaction. I held my face stern and stoic, but I had clearly underestimated my gaming partner.

  Time for me to bat back.

  “It was fine. You made an excellent choice.”

  “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that phrase,” she said.

  I knew what she was trying to do, and it would be sinfully delicious to teach her a lesson.

  The next course was linguine with clams, and the buttery sauce with a medley of different spices had me wanting to lick the plate clean. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, I locked my eyes with her whenever I could. Watched her over the rim of my glass. A dispassionate observer would think we were lovers enjoying the foreplay of lingering glances, but little did they know the power struggle occurring.

  Though the food was delicious, I wasn’t exactly happy that she had ordered for me. But I was able to turn that around. The next course we were about to share wasn’t exactly what she’d ordered. I didn’t have to twist the chef’s arm when I mentioned a favorite dish of mine from Scotland. The chef seemed all too excited to try out a culinary favorite of mine I brought over with me when our family immigrated.

  I promised him more of those recipes in exchange for a shake-up to our menu.

  “Interesting choice in outfit,” Philomena said. “Most men that sit down with me to discuss their future home wear something more akin to a suit.”

  Her fingers lingered on a necklace around her neck, playing with it to draw my gaze to her chest. She was taunting me. Playing the game I played effortlessly with every beautiful woman I came across. It was no surprise that Philomena was as beautiful as she was icy, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to crumble her to her knees.

  Maybe I would, if she could fulfill her end of the bargain.

  “Miss Wright, are you trying to seduce me?” I asked.

  Her eyebrows hiked up onto her forehead as her hand dropped from her necklace. She clasped her hands in her lap, which shoved her delicious bosom together right before my very eyes. That sparkling necklace got trapped within the valley of her breasts, and I sat there trying desperately to avoid staring.

  “I play to my strengths,” she said. “My sensuality happens to be one of them. My reputation in this business is something I’ve worked hard for, and it’s sometimes useful to level the playing field by using everything I have at my disposal.”

  “So, you are trying to seduce me,” I said. “I’m interested to know how that fits into how you’re going to help me find a piece of property to purchase.”

  “Men who can’t articulate themselves when in the presence of a beautiful woman can’t possibly articulate what they want in terms of a piece of property they wish to spend money on. I use my sensuality to weed out those who stumble over themselves rather than owning up to what they desire. Because being honest with oneself is the only way to get what one wants.”

  “Interesting theory,” I said. “How am I doing so far?”

  I felt her naked toe climbing up my ankle and I stared at her with defiance to see who would blink first. She had a body I wanted to turn into my personal wonderland of sexual favors. Philomena was fire. Thick with curves that sloped at dangerous angles. I could see myself ravaging her body for hours and not coming up for air until she begged me for mercy. My eyes lingering on that necklace trapped between her breasts pulled me away from her creeping toe, but she ripped me back to reality once she pressed her foot against the crook of my knee.

  I shuddered when her toes began to massage the sensitive area. My fork dropped from my hand, midway into my first bite of Haggis. Her foot quickly fell from my body and I wanted to catch it between my calves. I wanted to reach underneath the table and bring it back so she could creep up further. She grinned at me from the other side of the booth before taking a bite of the food in front of her. Food that, under any other circumstance, would be deemed a cruel and unusual punishment for anyone to partake in.

  But I watched her eat every bite, and not once did she flinch. Not once did she grimace. And not once did she complain. She was a good sport, and the first woman that had ever stepped up to the plate to play my game.

  And I could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew she’d won.

  “Mr. Walsh, you are full of surprises. I’m going to have to stay on my toes around you,” she said with a grin.

  “I was just about to say the same thing about you, Miss Wright,” I said as a cherry cheesecake was sat in front of us.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “The only thing I’m guilty of is playing with my food before I devour it. You do look a little hot under that collar of yours, though. Should I order you a glass of water?”

  The grin that slid across her face was positively devilish. It had my cock throbbing harder than ever.

  “At least I know your talents go further than your real estate knowledge,” I said.

  “Oh, you haven’t experienced anything yet in that department.”

  “Do I dare ask?”

  “Depends. Do you enjoy accosting your real estate agents?” she asked.

  The quirk of her eyebrow made my heart rush with panic.

  “I’ve done my research on you, Mr. Walsh. I know exactly how many agents you’ve pilfered through. Sadly, however, you didn’t pass my test.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “You caved. You couldn’t even eat your food until I pulled away from you. You invited the Devil to play, and you got burned. I don’t have time for men that flex their muscles merely for competition. That’s nothing but a waste of energy.”

  “Funny. I thought I was a client.”

  She was playing with fire, but she was also walking into the blaze without a care in the world of getting burned. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and I had become a willing victim. Fallen prey to her antics and had found myself backed into a corner. Something told me that she didn’t specialize in people who didn’t know what they wanted. Something told me she convinced someone they didn’t know what they wanted before showing them something they never knew they wanted. It was the oldest psychological trick in the book, and I was staring at the woman who should’ve written it.

  “I hope you don’t think this little display of intimidation is going to make me buy the first property you show me. I’m very picky. I know what I want. And I won’t settle for anything less. Take a look at this and give me your honest thoughts,” I said as I pulled the list from my shirt pocket.

  I handed it over to her and her attention fell elsewhere. Which gave me time to shove my hand down my pants and rearrange myself. The spell she had over me was thick, and any sexual thoughts racing through my head would to be counterproductive.

  She pushed her glasses to the edge of her nose so she could read the fine print. I watched her face for an expression. Anything to give away what she might have been thinking about the list. But there was no telltale sign. Her face was a stone-cold expression of indifference.

  I sure as hell never wanted to find her at one of my poker tables.

  I had a fleeting thought of taking her to Vegas for a wild weekend of gambling and the kind of sex that would have people banging on the walls at all hours of the day and night. A thought that made my cock throb against the zipp
er of my pants. I bit back a groan, causing Philomena to whip her eyes up to me.

  “Still shrugging off that water?” she asked slyly. “I could raise my hand and have it here in a heartbeat.”

  Oh, this woman was good. Even I was beginning to doubt who had the upper hand.

  And I never doubted that.

  I concentrated on tomorrow’s agenda and those little things that had to get done. Reapplying for my liquor license at two of my establishments. Scheduling to have some of the chairs reupholstered. Researching painters to come in and repaint. Anything to get my mind off the feel of her foot pressed against my aching dick.

  Philomena wasn’t an easy audience, and I felt that I had met my match. We both mastered the art of conversation. Once she got talking, there wasn’t a hiccup in any of her statements. She met me, tit for tat, in the world of wit. And she didn’t mind throwing her weight around. Just like me.

  It was refreshing to meet a woman so unashamed of her sexuality.

  She finally put the paper down and looked at me like I was out of my freaking mind. It was a long list, I know. And I knew I’d probably have to make some concessions in our search. But the perfect place was out there for me, and I wasn’t going to rest until I had it in my hands.

  “I tell all of my clients who come in with lists this one simple thing: think of this a grocery list. You’re going to have to decide what you can do without and what substitutions you can make if you can’t find what you’re looking for. Especially once we start discussing price tags. What amount of money constitutes your happiness? And before you answer, take into consideration that whatever number you have in your head, you should add at least fifty percent of that final total to it.”

  I watched her pull out a pen from her bag beside her. She clicked it with that same look my high school English teacher used to give me when reading my essays. Which didn’t help the corner she’d backed me into. She touched it down to the list I gave her and began making notations in indelible red ink that made the paper look like it was involved in a crime scene. Undoing all my hard work right in front of my eyes. I cringed every time she struck the page with the red pen. I took it as a personal attack.