The Billionaire's Beloved (Key to My Heart Book 4) (13 page)

Chapter Twelve

Sunlight streamed in the window, illuminating the sleeping man at my side. Paul's warm hand twitched as he dreamed, his fingers moving against my bare stomach. His breath ghosted against my earlobe as I lay still as possible, watching him. I’d been awake for a little while now, willing him to wake up as well so I didn’t have to sneak around. So far, it was not happening.

The room we slept in was wide and gorgeous, deep red carpet on the ground, creamy golden walls glittering in the sun's morning rays. The bed was huge, so wide that we could have the Brady Bunch cuddle in with us and still be comfortable. His home was large, a sprawling manor with several floors and a waiting staff. Somewhere down below us, a huge garden grew. I could smell the flowers waking, greeting the warmth of the day.

Paul had always been a heavy sleeper. While I am more of a get up and go type of girl, he enjoys lazing away his free time in peaceful slumber. Sometimes, I wished I was capable of doing that too. Carefully, I untangled my body, tiptoeing into the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I was grateful that his hinges were much less squeaky than my own back home.

After lightly splashing my face with water, I wrapped myself in a big, cozy navy blue robe, fingers grazing over the 'PH' embroidered on the chest. The soft as a cloud fabric smelled of Paul. I nuzzled my face into it for a moment, breathing in his musk before carefully creeping back out the bathroom and out of the bedroom door into the hall.

"Oh good morning, Ms....Miranda." One of the women said carefully, her large cheeks bouncing with each word she spoke, "I was just going to deliver breakfast, are you hungry?"

I nodded, tummy growing on cue, "I am!"

She laughed, turning and beckoning me down the hall, "What do you like? Pancakes, grits, biscuits, ham? I can make anything. Call me Sarah."

Sarah was a kind, round woman who walked on the balls of her feet, each step more like a little hop.

"Are you the cook here?" I asked as we turned the maze like halls. I was glad Sarah had appeared to show me the way, otherwise I definitely would have gotten lost.

The blond woman nodded, tight curls bouncing like pig tails all over her head, "Sure am. Oh, let me make you a fruit parfait, we have some beautiful strawberries."

"Alright." I said timidly. I wasn't used to other people offering to take care of me, it was a little unsettling.

"Would you like to eat in the garden?" She added, glancing over her shoulder as we approached a wide side door, "It's beautiful outside today. Not too hot yet."

"That sounds great." I murmured, walking out the door as she opened it for me. It was gorgeous out, like a painting. The sun hung in the distance in a perfect blue sky, trees swaying and a cool breeze dancing among the flowers' leaves.

"I'll be right back." Sarah smiled, vanishing.

Slowly, I settled onto a bench, staring at the garden. Berry bushes bloomed, gardenias hung in every corner, pink and yellow and blue flowers sprinkled the green grass.

Moments later, the door swung open, though it was not Sarah that stood there, but a still sleepy Paul.

The blond billionaire stumbled over to me with a yawn, settling next to me on the bench, clad only in a pair of long, plaid pajama bottoms.

When he caught me staring, he smirked, fingers running over the edge of the robe, "I would have worn more, but I found that someone had stolen my robe from me.”

I giggled nervously, sounding like a young teen in the presence of her crush, as Paul tugged me into him, lips smothering my own.

He sighed against my kiss, fingers trailing over my chin. Closer and closer he pulled me, until I sat sideways in his lap, legs draped over his legs as his burning hands slid under the robe, feeling my tingling flesh.

Our kisses grew hungrier, though not for the fruit parfaits waiting to be delivered.

Abruptly, he parted his kiss from mine, pressing them against my forehead instead.

"Miranda." He said quietly, "There's something I need you to know."

"What is it?" I asked hazily, arms wrapped around his neck, gazing up into his blue eyes. They mirrored the sky, like a chunk of the sky had been removed and carved just for Paul.

"Carlos." He said, glancing at me nervously, "I have information about Carlos."

I sighed, rubbing my temple as I climbed out of his lap, sitting beside him instead. I didn't want to talk about the Latino billionaire right now, not when I was enjoying my time with Paul so much.

Paul held up his hands, nodding his head at my slight irritation, "I know, I know. But yesterday, after we talked at the park, I had some of my people dig into him a little bit."

"Is this really important right now, Paul?" I asked with a frown, glancing towards the door. I needed coffee and food, not this.

The blond man trapped my hand, leaning in to regain my attention, "Yes. It is. It concerns your future…for you and your magazine."

"My magazine?" I asked quietly, chewing my lip, "Go ahead then, tell me what you think you know."

"It's nothing that I 
think
, it’s what I know." Paul said, eyes narrowing just slightly. He didn't enjoy being made light of, not when he held such pressing matters, "Carlos has been sabotaging your magazine since before he even joined your work team."

"What are you talking about?" I cried, jerking up to my feet and wrapping the robe tighter around my body, "Are you really that jealous? You want to tell me lies about my staff just so I'll pick you?"

"Miranda, I'm not lying to you. You know I would never lie to you, I've never lied to you." He stayed seated, hands folded tightly in front of him, leaning forward against his knees, "You haven't wondered why your sales have so steadily declined? He's been bribing producers not to run your pieces, not to advertise for you. This is all just a game to him."

My heart thundered, drowning out Paul's words. This was too much, this was too heavy. Never before had I felt such a betrayal.

"He's been doing this?" I whispered, shaking. Was it true?

Sarah poked her head out timidly, large manila folder in her hands instead of breakfast, "Is this the one, Mr. Harris?" She asked uncertainly.

He nodded, retrieving it from her before putting it in my hands as Sarah disappeared once more, "This is all the proof you need." He said quietly, "It's all here, he won't be able to deny a thing."

I sank back down onto the smooth wood of the bench, flipping through the documents. Emails, press letters, account strips. It was all truly there, in black and white.

Carlos had betrayed me.

Why?

"Miranda?" Paul interrupted quietly, sinking to his knees in front of me, "Now that you know, you can set things right. You can fix things. I still want to help you."

"I can't." I whispered, tears painfully pooling as I blinked desperately in an attempt not to start bawling, "I just can't."

"I don't want anything from you." He added, "There's no contracts here, no more engagement, no more competition. I just want to help you. You're going to need it, and as a friend, I'm going to give you everything you need."

It was a relief to not have the choice hanging over my head, but right now my trust was unspeakably destroyed.

Carlos had been on my team for some time now, and the whole time he'd been working against me? He'd seen my frustration, my anger, my fear of failing, and pretended to comfort me when in fact he was purposefully causing it?

Why? Why would he do that to me?

I stood, running the back of my hand over my eyes.

This wasn't the time for tears. This was the time to get answers.

Chapter Thirteen

By the time I stumbled back into my office building, still bundled up in only the fancy blue robe, my head was spinning so fiercely that I was almost sure I would collapse. At first, rage swelled inside of me like a red hot balloon. Each pore of my body felt like it steamed with furious wrath. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to look at Carlos without attacking him like a wild grizzly bear.

I didn’t even hear Lucinda welcome me to the office. I didn’t even see the casual ‘hello’ waves of passing staff members. Everything in front of me was painted an enflamed shade of crimson. I was a volcano on the brink of explosion, I was a tsunami threatening the shore, I was a warrior on a path of destruction.

Then Carlos turned the corner.

A wide smile spread of his traitorous lips, his arms spread apart to greet me, “Mi amor,” He crooned, “I forgot to call.”

All my wrath, all my ire, all my fury vanished in an instant. All that was left was the heartsick yank of duplicity. He moved closer, hesitating as he saw my eyes go wide and teary, glancing towards the folder clutched so tight in my clammy hands.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with a frown, “Mi amor, what has happened to you?”

I could do nothing, say nothing, but stare at him in agony. The hands that caressed me, lips that tasted my own, heart that I thought beat for me. It was all a lie, I was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

With a guttural cry, I hurled the folder at him, staring as it bounced off his chest and sprayed papers all across the cheap tile of the floor. Some of the staff approached, confused. They bent down, collecting the papers as Carlos’ normally tan face turned a sallow shade of pale.

“Miranda.” He said, taking a jerky step forwards, “I can explain this.”

“What does this mean, Carlos?” asked George as he studied the sheet of paper, brow creasing deeply in bewilderment, “This can’t be what it says?”

“It is.” I whispered, not giving Carlos a moment to speak his lies, “It’s been him all along. All this time, Carlos has been the reason we’ve struggled so much.”

“If you’ll listen to my reasons.” He said moving forward, lips back into their normal pleasant grin, his hand rubbing my arm. I would not be distracted by his touch or his seductive wiles any longer. He could not pull the wool over my eyes any longer.

“No. Get out.” My shoulders shook furiously, each beat of my heart like a pang, “Leave now.”

“I just wanted to get closer to you, mi amor, I needed you to need me. That was the only way to get your attention. I was going to turn everything around for us. We would be happy, we would be together, we would be in love.” That stupid smile still pulled his wide lips, “Mir amor, please…”

“You tricked me!” I cried, “This has all been nothing but a game to you, I was a trophy to be won! You played me, you hurt me, you hurt our team! All because of your selfishness!”

I took a deep breath, trying not to rage too hard in front of my workers, this was going to be traumatizing enough with adding any extra dramatics, “Now leave, I never want to see your face again.”

The work team gathered around me, glaring at Carlos. Two of the larger men walked towards him, escorting him from the building. The second the elevator closed on him, I sank down into the nearest chair, burying my hands into my face.

“I can’t believe it.” I muttered bleakly, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

I was shocked by the amount of care that my staff treated me with. They talked to me, comforted me, and helped me sort through the files once more.

“Are you going to report this?” asked George, “He can’t be allowed to return to editing…not when he’s willing to resort to this kind of thing…”

“She doesn’t have to.” Came a strong voice as Paul Harris strode out of the elevator, “I’ve already done it. Carlos’ days working for the papers are over.”

“Now,” He added sternly, “I believe there’s still an issue of the magazine that needs to be released this week. Back to work people, we’ve got a magazine to resurrect.”

The staff, understandably hesitant to take directions from anyone other than me, especially another dashing young billionaire with a chip on his shoulder, turned back to face me.

“He’s right.” I said, standing and straightening the robe I still wore before clapping my hands hard together, “Back to work, people.”

Slowly, cautiously, the staff returned to their respective jobs. The air was hurried and tense, but it was only a matter of time before it returned to normal.

Paul took my hand, leading me into my office as he placed a bag on my desk, “I brought you clothes.” He said with a smirk, “I figured you’d want something that doesn’t have a slit up the front.”

I laughed, startled by how good it felt to find something humorous. My heart still stung deeply. Not just because I’d been interested in Carlos romantically. It went much deeper than that. I considered him a friend, a confidant, a helper. It turned out though, he was nothing but a devious little liar. It was painful.

“Paul, thank you.” I whispered, rummaging through the bag where a brand new power pantsuit gazed back at me.

“It was nothing.” He shrugged, “Just a stop at the store.”

“No, dummy, not for the clothes. Though, thank you for that too. Thank you for helping me discover the truth.” It wouldn’t have been possible without him. I very well could have ended up marrying the Latino billionaire, and never discovered the kinds of tricks he was willing to play on the people he claimed meant most to him.