Baby Love: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (13 page)

"I'll have to file that away for later," I replied with a grin.

She splashed me with water. "Oh, Mr. Billionaire. Are you going to pay off the utility company? Or maybe find a mercenary who 's willing to bomb the power grid?"

I flashed her my dimples in response, hugging her even tighter. "Something like that."

We floated in silence, wrapped up in each other's arms for several minutes. "Roger's going to be okay," I said.

"Good. How long was he sober?"

"I think it was three hundred days," I said.

"He's been going to meetings?" she asked.

"Yeah. He’s got a sponsor and everything. Do you have people in the program?"

Rachel bit her lip and nodded. "I don't really feel like I should say who, though. She's pretty quiet about it."

I nodded and held her in my arms. We just floated and stared up at the nearly starless night sky, lost in thought.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RACHEL

The next morning dawned bright and early in Vegas. Vince was the first one up. He had, quite unexpectedly, a tray of tea service awaiting me.

"Morning. Dream of zombies?" Vince asked with a smile. He deftly used sugar tongs to drop three cubes into his own cup.

"Mm," I groaned in return. "Amazing what happened last night. I can't believe that Rick-"

"La la la la la!" Zane’s voice came from the front doors of the suite. He was dripping with sweat and wearing running gear. "Spoilers! Please. Contain yourself."

"But you said that you didn't watch the show!" I exclaimed, finally feeling awake at the sight of his blue eyes and dimpled cheeks.

He walked over and kissed me. Even when he was sweaty he still smelled good. I wondered vaguely if billionaires had their sweat glands replaced with cologne pods. Okay. Maybe I
was
still partially in my morning stupor.

"I said I don't watch the show. That doesn't mean I won't
one day
watch the show. And I'd like my mind to remain pristine. It's bad enough that I know Rick and Daryl make it at least six seasons." I grinned at him. He ran his hand over my rat’s nest of hair. He gestured to Vince. "She doesn't like mornings. Can you tell?"

Vince laughed. "She seems okay to me. Maybe it's just you. Tea?" 

Zane reached down to hug me and I slithered out of his sweaty grasp. "I'm good."

"Wasn't talking to you. Talking to Ms. Cobb here,” Vince replied with a grin.

I shrieked and ran away. "Vince, yes, tea please. And you," I said, hiding my body behind the couch as Zane hunted for me. "No sweaty hugs. Shower. Now."

Zane wiggled his eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

Vince cleared his throat pointedly.

I let out a slow breath to cam my heart rate. He had that instant effect on me and it was annoying. "I won't be rude to Vince. Enjoy your shower." I tried my best to wiggle my ass as I walked away from him.

While Zane showered, the restaurant downstairs sent up a spread of food that made the Last Supper look like a snack break. "Compliments of the chef. For Mr. Morehouse, Mr. Reid, and his guests,” said the server.

When the team of people left behind the pastries, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and mountains of fresh fruit, Vince and I dug in. "So this is how the rich get richer? Free food?"

Vince chuckled. “Pretty much.”

Zane walked in, looking fresh as a daisy. He bent down and kissed my pastry-filled lips. “Mm,” he murmured. “You taste like icing.”

“Get a room,” Vince insisted.

Zane laughed and sat down, pouring himself a cup of coffee and filling his plate with fruit and protein. “Thanks for ordering all this, Vince. I’m starving after my run. I went nine miles this morning. I feel like I haven’t done that in years anywhere but on a treadmill.”

“You ran up the strip?” Vince asked, looking surprised.

Zane nodded. “Nice to be in a place where nobody is looking for me or recognizes me at all.”

I glanced over at Zane. “Why don’t you have bodyguards?”

Vince laughed. “Do you see this man as the type to have someone following his every entire move? He’d rather risk kidnapping.”

Zane sipped his coffee. “I’m what you call a low-profile billionaire. I don't post up on Sunset Boulevard or have a penthouse in New York City. Despite the fact that I’m richer than Roger, people aren’t really on the lookout for me. They have zero leverage anyway.”

Vince stepped in. “Roger’s entire family is worth several times over what Mr. Reid is alone. So if they kidnap Roger-“

“They can hold him hostage and get the rest of his family to fork over their own cash to get him,” I finished.

“That’s assuming my family would actually pay anything for me. Which is assuming a bit too much if you’ve met my parents.” Roger appeared, looking bleary eyed but in his usual pristine suit clothes, his hair done. He nodded at Zane and Vince, then sat down next to me. Vince handed him a silver can of Red Bull and he popped it open. He was still staring at me.

"Do I have something on my face?" I asked, trying to sound lighthearted.

"Your business sucks. I'm not giving you fifty million dollars. Just to be clear."

I opened my mouth and looked at Zane, who was staring daggers at Roger.

"That's why she's here, right? Looking for more investors?" Roger waited a few beats. Then he burst out into hysterical laughter. I joined in with him. He refilled my glass with fresh squeezed orange juice and handed it to me with a nod of his head. "I was kidding. Truce between Zane’s best friend and his girlfriend, even if you
do
take all of his precious time away from me and I am a viciously jealous creature?"

I grinned. "Truce." I clinked my OJ glass with his icy can of Red Bull.

"It's Ms. Cobb’s first time in Vegas," Vince intoned from the other end of the table.

"First time in Vegas? Really. Well, well, well." Roger gave me an appraising look. "How long are you here for?" Zane stared to speak but Roger held up a hand. "I was asking Rachel."

“At least until tomorrow morning, I’d think. Finish out the weekend here with a bang?”

Roger rubbed his hands together. “As long as it doesn’t involve alcohol, I’m down for whatever.”

“I thought you were about to offer to play tour guide?” I asked him with a smirk.

“Oh, you want a tour guide?” Roger put his hands on his chest. “There is no better person than me to show someone a great time in the city of sin. Stick with me, kid, and you’ll be just fine.”

It turned out that Roger’s idea of a whirlwind tour of Vegas was just that: whirlwind. We took a helicopter ride over the strip, rode all of the roller coasters at New York, New York; bungee jumped off of the Stratosphere, saw a Cirque du Soleil show at the Bellagio, and finished up with three hours spent at the Wynn buffet.

Completely stuffed and groaning, Zane leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to have to run eighty miles this week to make up for this meal.”

I laughed. “You know, I didn’t peg you for a buffet guy, Roger.”

Roger tipped back the contents of his glass of sparkling water with a smile. “There’s no point in spending more money than you need to. I could have ordered half of this shit up in the room, but it would have cost me eight times as much. It’s the best deal on the strip for what you get.”

A patron with a fanny pack, sunglasses, and pleated shorts walked past our table carrying a cone of cotton candy sprinkled with gold flakes. I eyed it hungrily. Zane put his hand on my thigh under the table. “You want that?” He asked me with a grin.

I shook my head. “That would be my third dessert of the evening,” I protested. “And that seems like a bit much, don’t you think?”

Zane leaned over and kissed me on the nose, sending goosebumps down my body. “Anything for you, alright.” He lowered his voice and moved his lips to my ear. “Besides that, I’ve got to keep you plump and healthy.” He got up to stand in line at the dessert table.

Roger was giving me a searching look. “You like him?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. “Of course I do,” I said. “What a ridiculous question.”

Roger shrugged. “Eh, I mean, I know that you
like
him sexually. You two make me sick. You're like high school sweethearts. But people can act, you know? For all I know you were a theater major in college. People lie. I should know that better than anyone.”

“Sorry about your girlfriend,” I said sincerely.

“Zane told you everything?”

I nodded. “I don’t think he broke man code or anything. Besides. My sister is in AA. She’s four years sober.”

Roger smiled. “That’s amazing. Tell her I said congratulations.”

I shook my head. “She wouldn’t love that I was telling one of the most powerful men in the world that she’s in recovery. She has a lot of pride. She’s like my mother. Doesn’t really like people knowing her business.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Roger replied. He slurped his water and set the glass down. “So I guess what I’m really asking is this: is it serious between you two? I’ve never seen Zane like this.”

I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure how to answer this question either. “I guess it is. We’re just taking it one day at a time.”

Roger laughed. “Nobody knows that expression better than an alcoholic. I can appreciate that.” He looked over his shoulder to see that Zane was at the head of the cotton candy line. A tall man in a white chef’s hat was expertly twirling the candy around a white paper cone. Zane was chatting with him. I wondered if the guy was a football fan and was trying to keep his cool around the former quarterback. I realized Roger was staring at me. “If you break his heart, I’ll kill you,” Roger said quietly. “Well,
I
won’t. But Vince will. I’ll send him for you, I promise.”

Zane was back at the table. “For you, milady,” he said with a grand gesture.

I laughed. “This is three times the size of the one that the tourist had!”

Zane shrugged. “I made friends with the cotton candy chef. He’s a Bears fan.”

The cotton candy glinted. It was three times the size of my head and covered in gold flakes to the point where it was seventy percent gold and thirty percent perfect, fluffy pink.

“To friends new and old,” Zane said, holding up his wine glass to Roger.

“To keeping promises,” Roger added with a significant look at me.

I said nothing but joined my glass with theirs.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ZANE

TEN WEEKS LATER

“The total sales over the first three months of business have doubled our projections,” my accountant intoned nasally. I slid my hand under the table and grabbed Rachel’s thigh. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she screwed her face up in concentration. It had become a game between us – who could make the other break in a meeting. She was usually winning and today was no exception to that.

“Could you go over the sales by region? And how are we doing with the Zension pharmaceutical negotiations?” Rachel deftly asked these questions. She’d become quite the businesswoman over the last three months.

Another suit spoke up and started droning. Rachel took the opportunity to put her hand directly on my crotch. I stiffened everywhere. She had a wry little smile on her face as she pretended to listen to the suit.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for a Wednesday, don’t you?” I announced the second the suit stopped talking. Everyone scattered.

We barely made it back to my office before tearing each other’s clothes off. I had my hands in Rachel’s hair and she had her panties off. We were becoming pros at fucking in secret. Twenty minutes later, she was pulling her bra back on. She looked concerned. “What’s up?” I asked her quietly.

“It’s been three months nearly. No baby,” she said. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me? Should I go to the doctor?”

I pulled her into my shirtless arms and kissed her on the head. “Why do you assume there’s something wrong with
you
? Couldn’t there be something wrong with me?”

Rachel sighed. “Yeah, that’s more likely when you really think about it.”

I tickled her. “Don’t make fun of me,” I said.

“I’ll do what I want,” she retorted. “You sure we’re good? Contract and all?”

I kissed her on the lips. “Don’t say the word contract when we’re naked, alright? And listen. Baby making involves fucking you six hundred ways to the weekend. How could I possibly not be good with that?”

She smiled and kissed me. “Are you sure you don’t think we should go see someone?”

I suddenly had a lightning bolt of an idea hit me. This would be the perfect cover for what I’d been planning. “If it would make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do. But I’ll need to make a few phone calls, alright? We need to do this as discreetly as possible.”

Rachel nodded. I slapped her ass as she stood up. “I really, really don’t want to go to this premiere thing on Friday night. It’s embarrassing,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “For the millionth time, you don’t have a fucking choice. The mayor’s throwing the Boiler Room season premiere party and I have to be there. And I’m not going if you’re not with me.”

“It’s just kind of weird, right? Everyone knows who I am from the commercials. I know that. But when people put together that
we’re
together…I don’t know. I just feel like it will look bad or something.”

I pulled my shirt back on. “You let me handle other people, okay?”

“Will Roger be there?” Rachel asked. “I like him. Vegas was fun.”

I smiled. “I'll do you one better. Vince will be there. You can talk zombies and brains and sweaty men all night long if you want.” Rachel kissed me and walked to the door. “Wait a second,” I called after her. “Clear your calendar for tonight, okay? I’m going to try to get an after-hours appointment.”

She looked relieved. “It would make me feel a lot better if we did it sooner. And you know full well my calendar is always open for you. As are my legs.” She shot me a sexy look before walking out the door.

I sat down, trying to push the memory of her teasing me out of my mind. I had phone calls to make and plans to bring together. I couldn’t be thinking about her naked.