TheBillionairesPilot Read online

  He stared at her. She was unlike any woman he’d ever met. He imagined if he ever let her drive his car, she’d take him for the ride of his life—which was saying a lot since he used to race professionally up until his father’s death. He’d had his fair share of wild rides on the track.

  “Ever driven one?” he asked her.

  “Nope, so when I ask to borrow your top of the line Mercedes roadster to drive out to the Hamptons to meet my girlfriends, you refuse because you’re sure I’ll wrap it around a tree, which, of course, is ridiculous because I’m a brilliant pilot who has never crashed any motorized vehicle.”

  “And this is why our relationship is going to be rocky? Because I won’t let you borrow my car?” He couldn’t ever remember enjoying a conversation with a woman this much.

  “Just a symptom of deeper issues,” she explained, nodding sagely.

  “But for this trip, we’re getting along great,” he said adamantly. “We’re in the honeymoon phase of the relationship.”

  Her eyes narrowed with interest. “How long does that phase usually last in your relationships?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it.” He rubbed at his temples, which were throbbing from the cabin pressure.

  “Okay, I can’t take it any longer. Turn around,” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “I can’t stand seeing you in so much pain. You’re strung as tight as a bowstring.” She waved a hand at him. “Turn your back to me. I’ll help loosen your muscles.”

  He stared at her. “You don’t have to do that.”

  She tugged his arm. “I know I don’t. Now turn.”

  He turned away from her, and she laid her small, but strong hands on his shoulders. He was glad he was facing away from her as his pants suddenly got tight just from the touch of her hands through his shirt, or maybe it was the fantasies running through his head. He pictured them both naked, massaging warm oil into each other’s skin. Of course, she’d be tied and blindfolded while he took his turn with her.

  “Damn.” He flinched as she worked a painful knot in his right shoulder.

  “Breathe through it.”

  “I am breathing.”

  “Deeper. Like this.” She demonstrated a long pull of air into her lungs and let it out slowly.

  It sounded so much like a sigh of pleasure after a big orgasm he got harder at the thought, both in his pants and the muscles in his neck. He hadn’t had any sexual release since…he counted the weeks since his last sleepover with Vivian over Valentine Day’s weekend…nearly two months ago. And it had been even longer than that since he’d visited the club.

  Apparently, his sex life was another sacrifice he’d made to the time demands of learning the intricacies of his family’s business.

  Cassie squeezed his shoulders tighter. “Now, you’re not breathing at all. You’ve tightened up. What are you thinking?”

  Nothing he could say aloud. He was paying her to be his girlfriend, his pretend girlfriend, his platonic pretend girlfriend. If he had sex with her now, that would make him a…bastard. He’d be taking advantage of her and the fact she needed his money. He’d be crossing a line he couldn’t stomach. He never paid for sex.

  He cursed himself. Here he’d found a woman he was growing to admire and enjoyed being with, and he’d created a situation in which he could never have her.

  Shit.

  “This isn’t working. Thanks for the offer.” He shrugged off her hands and settled back into his seat, as did Cassie.

  “You’re right,” she said with false-sounding lightness, but he saw the skin tighten around her mouth. “An airplane is not usually the most relaxing location for most people. You really should get yourself a professional massage though, and soon. It will help with your headache.”

  He glanced at her, but she looked away. “Thanks for the advice.”

  “Sure.” She opened her novel.

  He studied her from the corner of his eye. She was a contradiction in strength and softness. She presented herself so confidently, but he’d hurt her by refusing her back rub. She tried to hide behind her words, but she had a horrible poker face.

  He didn’t know what to say to make it better, so he pulled out Linders’ financials. He needed to be as prepared as possible for his meeting with Xavier, and trying to figure out Cassie wasn’t going to help. If they were doing a scene, he’d know exactly how to get to the heart of her…if she were a sub. He glanced over at her. Did she have sub tendencies beneath that hard shell she hid behind?

  He shook his head and fixed his eyes on the papers in his hands. For the remainder of the flight, he sat next to her, ignoring her alluring fragrance and his awareness of her so close to him, while she flipped through the pages of her mystery novel and he stared at columns and rows of numbers without digesting any of the information.

  Chapter Four

  The humidity of the Caribbean island covered Cassie’s skin in a moist layer as she preceded Evan down the stairs that had unfolded from the airplane doorway. Mr. Jacobs followed a few steps behind Evan.

  She wondered if Evan liked having a shadow chasing him everywhere he went. She knew she’d grow tiresome of always being under the watchful eye of the stiff Mr. Jacobs, but then, Evan had said his rebellion had ended with his father’s death. Perhaps he was comfortable with his stuffy executive assistant, and maybe Mr. Jacobs was a nice reminder of who Evan’s father had been.

  As soon as she reached the tarmac at the bottom of the stairs, she slung her tote bag over her forearm and wrestled to remove her cardigan with her other arm. It was much too hot for the extra layer.

  “Let me help.” Evan moved closer and slid his fingers under her collar.

  As he slowly removed her sweater, his fingertips caressed her bare shoulders, sending shivers down her spine while her nipples pebbled against the cotton of her sundress.

  Not good, so not good. She chastised herself for her reaction. He was her boss. She wasn’t doing that again. Besides, he wasn’t interested in her. He couldn’t even stand her touch when she’d offered to massage his shoulders.

  She didn’t understand his rejection. He’d seemed so into her and even told her it was up to her to decide whether or not they remained platonic. Perhaps now that he knew her better, he’d changed his mind. She was probably too boyish with her flat chest and lack of curves. Hell, she couldn’t have a more masculine career—first flying choppers with the Army and now in the private sector. He probably liked his women to look and act much more feminine, and she’d come off as a tomboy with her love of sci-fi and fast cars.

  He’d probably been pretending his earlier interest, and she’d fallen for his act. Well, shit, this whole thing was act. How could she have forgotten that already?

  Because, truthfully, she was attracted to him. Very attracted to him. His physique, his brains, his humor, and his commanding presence were all her favorite flavors of yumminess.

  Damn, she was an idiot. Hadn’t she learned anything from her past with Trent? She’d been a fool to think Trent was the right man for her, someone who would take care of and cherish her. She’d been too eager to give herself to a man who’d picked up on her need to be dominated, eventually using it against her.

  Men with wealth and status like Trent and Evan saw women like her as dispensable playthings. She’d have to keep reminding herself of that as she fought back her physical responses to her new boss.

  Evan handed her the cardigan, as Mr. Jacobs stood waiting off to the side with his gaze averted.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say in a mostly normal tone of voice.

  “That’s a good color on you.” Evan’s eyes roamed over her fuchsia sundress.

  Now, she was sure her hard nipples were showing through the thin cotton. With her small breasts, she hadn’t bothered buying a convertible bra for the halter-top dress, but at this moment she sure wished she had.

  “Thank you.” She repeated and broke the spell of his gaze by taking a step toward the s
mall airport building. “Will a car be meeting us?”

  Evan’s head jerked as if he’d been awoken suddenly from a daze. Then he nodded. “Xavier will have sent a car. It’ll be out front.” He held his elbow out to her. “Are you ready for this?”

  She hesitated for a moment—not wanting to touch him, not wanting to risk the sparks that seemed to flow from his skin to hers whenever she did—the sparks that apparently only flowed in one direction. When she’d massaged his shoulders on the plane, she was sure her interest was obvious, but it seemed he’d felt nothing when she’d touched him.

  She braced herself then slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. His skin was covered in fine, black hairs that felt silky under her fingertips. But under his skin, she was very aware he possessed hard, lean muscles. She slipped into a brief daydream of him on the beach without his shirt and slacks, swim trunks riding low on his hips and sculpted muscles flexing as he ran through the surf.

  You can look, but you better not be thinking about touching.

  Damn, this was going to be a long weekend if she had to regularly prompt herself to ignore her attraction to Evan. And it wasn’t just his looks that were tripping her up; she was also drawn to his personality, an interesting mix of self-importance and playful charm…and dominance.

  Inside the terminal, a uniformed man held a discreet sign with Mitchell written across it. Evan nodded to the man, and the driver led them to a limo waiting at the curb. Mr. Jacobs followed at a respectable distance then sat in the front seat with the driver while the airport baggage handler deposited their luggage in the trunk.

  Cassie allowed herself a moment to enjoy the butterflies in her belly as she slid into the black leather seats in the back of the long car. She was on a Caribbean island as the girlfriend of a billionaire with a suitcase full of more girly clothes than she’d ever thought she’d own. She didn’t want to pinch herself awake if all this was a dream, and she didn’t want to remember to keep her shell snugly around herself. She just wanted to enjoy this feeling for as long as possible because she knew it was temporary. In three days, she would be back to her regularly scheduled life, but for now she would take pleasure in pretending to be a princess—something she never allowed herself to do growing up because she’d always tried so hard to fit into her father’s world.

  Evan was too busy checking messages on his cell phone during the ride to Xavier’s house to talk to her, so she admired the scenery of the island along the way. Giant red hibiscus dominated the landscaping, and coconut palm trees towered over them on either side of the road.

  She was tempted to lower the window, so she could inhale the fragrant blossoms and the salty air, but she didn’t want to interrupt Evan’s concentration. His forehead was creased, and his features were pinched as he answered his cell messages. The man seriously needed to learn how to relax. He was going to put himself in an early grave just like his father.

  The limo pulled into a long, curved drive in front of a sprawling two-storied mansion. The red-tiled roof shone brightly over white stucco walls. Round, stone-covered turrets anchored the two opposing wings of the house.

  A sudden attack of nerves had Cassie’s stomach whirling. Until this moment, she’d been able to coast along enjoying the dressing up, but now the thought of having to pretend to be Evan’s girlfriend for the whole weekend had her feeling slightly sick.

  She was much too candid and straightforward to be a good liar, and Evan had said this was a crucial business meeting for his company. What if she screwed it up?

  Evan ended his call and nodded at her. “Ready?”

  “Not really.” She wiped her sweaty palms on the dress hem at her knees.

  The vertical lines above the bridge of Evan’s nose deepened as his eyes narrowed on her. “You can’t back out now. I won’t allow you.”

  Her spine snapped straight as if she were being called to attention. “I wouldn’t need your permission if I decided to get out of this deal. We never signed a contract.”

  “I thought a retired officer’s handshake would mean something.”

  Her chin came up. “I’m not backing out. I just said I wasn’t quite ready, but now I am.”

  Evan opened his mouth, but the driver opened the car door, interrupting Evan’s opportunity to reply. He must have thought twice about spilling anything that could be overheard by a staff member because he stepped out of the car without commenting. Then he leaned down and held his hand out to assist Cassie.

  Sliding her palm into his, she marveled at how small and fragile her hand looked against his. She was more familiar seeing her hands as capable and strong as they controlled the flight of powerful helicopters. Now, she appeared to be in his capable and strong grasp.

  A strange fuzzy sensation buzzed in her head, making her feel momentarily dizzy, and she stumbled as her second foot came out of the car.

  Evan caught her around the waist and pulled her up against him. “I’ve got you.”

  Her free hand landed on his muscular biceps as her breasts pressed against his solid chest. Tingles zipped down between her legs. Oh yes, she definitely felt like he had her, or rather, had her responding to him in the most inappropriately personal way.

  “I’m fine now. Thank you for the assistance.” She attempted to step back as she realized Mr. Jacobs had gotten out of the car and was watching, but Evan’s hand on her waist tightened.

  His head lowered, and she read the intent in his eyes. So much for thinking he didn’t like her. He obviously intended to kiss her, and she definitely couldn’t let that happen, not with her self-discipline slipping as it was already.

  She broke his hold with a subtle evasive move and stepped away from him, hoping the driver and Mr. Jacobs weren’t paying too much attention because Evan’s face clearly showed his shock and displeasure. If she didn’t play her role well enough, Mr. Jacobs might suggest to Evan that she didn’t deserve her full payment. She was counting on that money too much. She couldn’t afford to mess this up.

  Before Evan could respond to her narrow escape, she spoke in a sweet voice. “You know how much I hate PDA, honey.” She reached up and patted his cheek lightly with her hand.

  A booming laugh from behind Evan let her know that someone coming out of the house had caught at least the last part of the altercation.

  An older, olive-skinned man approached with his hand outstretched. A beautiful, dark-haired woman in a red floral dress followed a few paces behind him.

  “Welcome, Evan,” the man’s voice held a hint of a Spanish accent. He nodded a greeting at Evan’s assistant. “Dan. Welcome to my little island home.”

  Evan shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Xavier.” Turning to the woman, he said, “It’s good to see you again, Esmé.”

  “It is a great pleasure to welcome you and Dan into our home,” she responded with a heavy French accent. “And who is this woman keeping you on your toes?” Esmé regarded Cassie with a bright gleam in her eyes and a friendly smile on her lips.

  “This is my lovely Cassie.” Evan placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, drawing her forward.

  “Thank you for having me this weekend.” Cassie extended her hand to Esmé then Xavier and did her best to ignore the warmth of Evan’s touch. “Your home is absolutely stunning.”

  “Yes, yes, you must come in and get settled.” Esmé motioned for them to follow her through the tall double-door entry into a tiled floor foyer. “Traveling always makes me feel out of sorts until I have had a good stiff drink. After you freshen up in your suite, then you may come down to the patio and join Xavier and me for an evening cocktail.”

  “Thank you,” Evan replied. “We’ll be down shortly.”

  Esmé gave Cassie a wink. “Take your time.”

  Cassie felt heat color her cheeks, and she refused to look at Evan to see if he’d noticed Esmé’s suggestive gesture.

  “Dan, if you’ll follow me,” Esmé continued, “I’ll show you to the guest house.”

  “Thank
you, ma’am,” Mr. Jacobs addressed their hostess. Then he turned to Evan. “Please don’t hesitate to ring my cell if you need me for anything.”

  “Try to relax and enjoy yourself, Dan,” Evan responded. “I think I’ve got everything I need.”

  Mr. Jacobs gave a brief nod then followed Esmé down the hallway to the left.

  “I’ll see you outside. Santie will show you to your rooms,” Xavier said, motioning to a uniformed woman who appeared from the hallway to the right.

  “Please follow me, Señor and Señorita.”

  Cassie walked behind the older woman and tried not to be too obvious as she ogled the elegance inside the mansion.

  The foyer opened up to a two-story living room, surrounded on three sides by columns and arched balconies with decorative wrought-iron railings. Heavy, dark wood tables and soft ivory sofas faced an entire wall of windows on the far side of the living room and looked out over a pool and a densely landscaped tropical garden. Beyond the garden, Cassie caught sight of the turquoise sea.

  “Your suite is in the guest wing,” Santie explained as they climbed the stairs to the second floor and wound their way down a long hallway. “The master and mistress are in the other wing, and your assistant will be in the guest house where he will have access to the guest office.”

  They reached the end of the hall and followed the woman into a sun-filled sitting room. A short sofa was grouped with two armchairs around a low coffee table in the middle of the room. In the far corner, a mahogany bar appeared to be fully stocked with top shelf liquor. Next to it, sheer white curtains billowed gently in the sea breeze floating through the open doors to the balcony.

  “Here you go,” Santie said with a wave of her hand. “If you have any need of staff, you may dial number one on the telephone.” She pointed to the desk sitting against the right wall.

  “This looks perfect,” Evan said.

  “Gracias, Señor. Please enjoy your stay,” Santie said then turned to leave.