Billionaire's Pet 3 (3 page)

He held her until she finally quieted in his arms and then he kissed her forehead and left the room. Finding Andre, the club’s other owner, Griffin pulled him aside to discuss Amanda’s situation. Satisfied Andre would find someone suitable to foster Amanda or ban her from the club if she insisted on participating in scenes too soon, he left the building and waited outside in the rain for Philip’s arrival.

Wind buffeted him while cold, fat drops penetrated his jacket. Ignoring the creeping chill, he mulled over his options with Katelyn. In naming Martinique as his destination, he had intentionally ensured Katelyn knew he would be with another woman, whether she connected Martinique to the club or not. Beyond his being childish and spiteful, he had undoubtedly reminded Kate of her father.

Hell, the whole rotten good-bye reminded him of his own father.

Spotting the headlights of the limo, he rubbed at his cheek and tried to recall when he had turned into the miserable old bastard who had fathered him. Not before the old man’s death, that was certain. Everything the old man had done while alive, Griffin had intentionally done the opposite. After the senior Montgomery’s death, then.

He narrowed the time frame down to the first deal he almost blew because he had tried to negotiate on even turns — treating the opposing executive as an equal, forgetting the man was an adversary, that everyone across the table was an adversary. Twenty thousand good paying jobs would have disappeared over the course of a few months had he not wised up.

So, yeah, he had become an asshole — for the right reasons at the time.

The limo rolled to a stop and he opened the door before Philip could put the vehicle in park. No need for the old man to get wet. Griffin pulled the door shut then rolled the dividing window down. “Home.”

Home always meant the Montgomery estate. When he wanted to stay in the city, he used penthouse. Despite the clarity, Philip didn’t move beyond tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Griffin tilted his head until he could see the older man’s profile. Philip’s lips smashed against one another, never quite parting before they pressed together again. Clearly, he had something to say.

A lecture no doubt, one Griffin wasn’t in the mood for, but he could either be an ass for the umpteenth time that day and tersely reissue the command or let the man speak his peace. The latter option seemed like the quickest route home and he desperately wanted to reach Katelyn quickly. The less time she had to wonder what he was doing at Martinique’s, the better.

Sliding a panel next to the refrigerator, he pumped some hand sanitizer into his palm then rubbed it in. “What is it, Philip?”

“Miss Willow

“

Reaching for the spare bottle of his cologne, Griffin froze. “Yes? She hasn’t passed out or anything?”

He cursed himself, more convinced than ever that he shouldn’t have left the estate. He could have carried her back to the bedroom and rested beside her, perhaps mending in the process whatever it was he had broken between them in the library.

“No,” Philip assured him. “At least, I don’t think so—”

“What do you mean you don’t think so?” Griffin’s voice boomed inside the vehicle. Sucking a deep breathe in, he forced himself to calm down. If something was wrong, Claire would have summoned help. Katelyn would be cared for until he reached her. There was no need to yell. Not once in the dozen plus years of being driven by Philip had he raised his voice at the old man. That was his father’s style, not his.

“I didn’t intend to yell.” He smoothed the crease along his slacks. That was all the apology he could offer. Old habits die a hard death and his definitely were still alive and kicking around inside him. “Just tell me Katelyn’s status.”

“She’s home

I mean her home.” The old man rubbed his hands nervously over the top of the steering wheel. “At least I assume that’s where she went after leaving the estate.”

Philip started to put the limo in gear.

“Wait.” Fishing his cell phone out, Griffin dialed the estate and interrogated Claire with as much patience as he could manage with his heart battering the back of his rib cage. She confirmed that Katelyn had requested her clothes, purse and phone, plus a cab to Chicago approximately half an hour after the limo had left the estate’s front gate.

Ending the call with Claire, Griffin scrolled through his phone. He knew Katelyn’s number forward and backward but he couldn’t force his fingers to press the call pad. If there was the slightest chance in hell she would answer, she wouldn’t have left in the first place. She would ignore the call or tell him off and hang up. Then she would be on guard when anyone knocked on her front door.

For the next few hours, while she expected him to be off fucking around, he had a chance she would open her door. And if she opened it, he had a chance, however slim, that she would let him in.

He shoved the phone back in his jacket pocket and grabbed the cologne. He spritzed a small amount into his hand then rubbed at his face and jacket to erase Amanda’s scent. Replacing the bottle, he nodded at Philip.

“Take me to her.”

**********

Stomach growling and her foot propped on a pillow, Katelyn rested on her living room couch. Waiting for the pizza she had ordered, she kept her mind occupied by picking patterns out on the stucco ceiling above her. Mostly, she tried not to think about Griffin — or the club he had likely gone to.

Five minutes on Google once she returned home had Katelyn convinced that the Martinique he mentioned was Martinique Frost, owner of Century, a very exclusive, high-end private club of unnamed activities. Given that the only online connection between Griffin and the woman was a charity event for domestic abuse, Katelyn had a pretty good idea what went on behind the doors at Century.

Not that she cared one iota what Griffin Montgomery was doing or with whom he was doing it. She had merely been curious. Her curiosity satisfied, she had moved on to staring at the ceiling after ordering pizza.

On cue with another loud growl from Katelyn’s stomach, the doorbell rang. She called out for the delivery guy to wait as she hobbled toward the door. Claire had tried to convince her to take the cane, but Griffin hadn’t sent Philip merely to the local pharmacy or grocery store for a cane. He had sent him to an antique dealer. She was not about to leave the Montgomery estate with a several hundred dollar cane. She had enough problems to deal with, she didn’t need a criminal complaint against her added to the list.

“One more second, please.” Katelyn grabbed the money she had placed on the entry table earlier then reached for the door handle. Awkwardly balancing on her left foot, she opened the door.

In front of her stood one very wet billionaire, his expression unreadable despite the illuminating glow of the exterior light. She started to slam the door but he slid his fingers around the frame.

She could shut the door, but not without injuring him.

Katelyn reflexively yanked the knob toward her. The solid wood door flew backward too fast to avoid. With Katelyn still balancing on her left foot, the door connected with her right ankle. Pain shot through the joint and her hand dropped from the knob. She teetered, her arms straining forward for balance as her body tilted precariously backward. A dozen calculations ran through her brain on how she could possibly avoid putting any weight on her right foot without falling and pulling half of the entry room furniture onto the floor with her.

Griffin didn’t wait for her to finish the calculations. He curled one arm along her back and gripped the far side of her waist. With the other arm, he took her knees out from under her and lifted. Kicking the door shut, he carried Katelyn into the front room.

He placed her on the couch, his chest hovering over hers when he should have been pulling away.

Katelyn pushed at his chest. “Leave, now!”

Ignoring her protest, he looked for a place to sit, then sank into her reading chair. His gaze landed on the small lamp on the table next to the chair. A genuine Tiffany Studios piece from the turn of the last century, an ivory shell shade curled over a bronze base. With a value of eight thousand dollars or more, the lamp was out of place in the rented hovel of an unemployed charity worker.

So was its twin on the bedroom stand.

Confusion wrinkled Griffin’s brow for an instant, then he looked at her. “Your mother’s, I’d wager.”

Katelyn’s lips parted, a huff of air leaving them as her mouth contorted. She forced a smile and pointed to the door. “Fantastic guess. Today’s prize is a free ride out of this neighborhood in a limo. Now leave.”

Griffin pinched his nose then ran his hands along his slacks. “You did an amazing thing for your mother, Kate.”

She gave a tight shake of her head, unclenching her jaw just long enough to rebut the compliment. “Obviously you never compared the medal times for the summer games against my trial times.”

“Don’t make your sacrifice less than it was, Kate.” He drew his body to the edge of the seat.

Thinking Griffin was positioning himself to make another move on her, she stared at him in warning. Looking him straight in the eyes hurt like hell. While his face remained hard to read and his voice stayed smooth and deep, something danced in his gaze. Problem was, she had no idea what that “something” meant.

Part of her felt it wasn’t too late to invite him back in. He was getting personal, talking about her mother.

Was he ready to open up?

She dismissed the idea with a narrow shake. Griffin intended to soften her up, weaken her with compliments and thoughts of her mother, remind her how she would give up everything for the right person.

She desperately needed to not lose sight of how Griffin wasn’t the right person.

Her thoughts drifted to the lamp beside him and its twin in her bedroom. The lamps and the chair he sat on had been in her mother’s reading room. At two, Katelyn would crawl up in her mother’s lap and listen to Madeline read The Little Mermaid and other fairy tales. As she grew older, Katelyn would sit on the floor at her mother’s feet, Madeline stroking her hair as Katelyn read her own books. But, even as a teen, there were times she would rest her head on her mother’s lap and the childhood books would come out.

She looked back at Griffin, realizing he had continued talking while her mind drifted. He had upped the deal, offering twice as big a payment for one final night as he had offered for the week.

His mouth only stopped moving when he saw the tears glistening on her cheek.

“Come back, Kate.”

There he was, throwing orders around again. It didn’t matter how soft the command. The words told her everything. He could have said he wanted her to come back, needed her to. That might have slowed her refusal, even reversed it.

“You’ve never met a person you can’t buy, have you?” She shook her head. “I’m done with you, Montgomery.”

Griffin looked stunned — for all of a second before he recovered. “Katelyn, I’m offering something that could be life changing

“

A soft, almost forgiving smile, ghosted her lips. “You’ve already changed my life, and it didn’t cost you a dime. Good-bye, Griffin.”

The stunned look returned. “Kate

“

His bottom lip bobbed, his tongue moving behind the gate of perfect white teeth.

She couldn’t tell what word he found impossible to shape. It didn’t matter.

“You were right about the independence issues. You know I won’t call the cops to make you leave.” Hooking his gaze, she felt the tears drying on her cheeks and realized she really could get over this man sitting across from her. It would time, but she could feel the strength to do so building inside her. “Please stop doing this to me.”

His mouth closed. Looking down, he gripped the sidearm of the chair and nodded then pushed onto his feet. Heading for the front door, he passed out of view.

Hearing more than one voice from the entry area, Katelyn started to stand. She made it to her feet as Griffin called from the front door, his tone dripping indifference.

“Your pizza is here.”

The front door clicked shut. She sank onto the couch, the final words of an almost love affair echoing in her head.

Your pizza is here.

**********

Irritation making his finger bounce, Griffin clicked the re-submit button on his screen. The screen refreshed, showing him the last thirty days of transactions on his personal expense account. He scanned the numbers again in search of one line with a very specific amount.

Fifty thousand dollars.

Nothing. A month had passed and Katelyn hadn’t cashed the check he’d placed on top of the pizza box. He had filled two checks out on his ride from Century to Katelyn’s apartment. He had written the first for one hundred thousand, his last chance amount. Seconds before exiting the limo, suffering a moment of self-doubt that had proved all to accurate in her rejection of him, he had filled out the second check for the fifty thousand despite the contract’s terms being unfulfilled.

With her tears and contempt warring for supremacy in his mind as he left, he wasn’t sure if he had intended the fifty thousand as a spiteful reminder of what she had agreed to or a misguided apology. Either way, she hadn’t cashed it.

His finger hovered over the touch pad one last time. He had ignored the account statement the first two weeks after walking out of Katelyn’s life. The third week he had checked every other day. The first few days of the fourth week he scanned the statement once at the end of each day. The remaining days?

“Pitiful, Montgomery.” He hit the power button on his laptop then strode into his reception area. Despite working in his office from approximately six in the morning until six at night, he had few in-person visitors. The waiting area was blissfully empty.

He turned to Liz. She was the more senior of his two personal assistants and, with Maggie on maternity leave since the prior Friday, the only one working. Liz smiled at him, her expression slipping as he continued staring. She lifted a hand to brush at the carefully styled gray hair that ended at the upturned collar of her blouse. Finding her boss still silent, she folded her hands in her lap and prompted him.