The Billionaire's Mistaken Mistress - Part 2 (Contemporary BWWM Romance)

BOOK: The Billionaire's Mistaken Mistress - Part 2 (Contemporary BWWM Romance)
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The Billionaire's Mistaken Mistress
Part
2

 

Published By Mia Caldwell, 2015

 

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©
2015 Mia Caldwell
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
Kindle Edition

Chapter One

             

              Jessie's main concern was what one wears when having dinner with a billionaire. A married billionaire, at that.

              “Well,” she said, looking at the chosen dress in her bedroom mirror. “This is it.”

              While nothing overly expensive, it was the finest dress she owned since Jessie had a feeling that John Harwood wouldn't be taking her anywhere cheap. She hoped it was good enough for whatever five-star restaurant he'd be taking her, and she touched-up her makeup while waiting for John's driver. At almost seven on the dot, her doorbell sounded and Jessie quickly draped a silk shawl over her bare shoulders. She had decided on a cocktail dress in deep red satin. It had a halter back, was figure-hugging, and hadn't been worn since she was eighteen. In four years, she'd had no reason to wear a dress. She could hardly recognize her reflection, and hurried to answer the door. She collected herself and opened it slowly, attempting not to appear too eager.

              Seeing John Harwood outside her door, looking totally out of place in the shabby hallway, made her laugh aloud. She looked over his designer suit before meeting his eyes and smiling.

              “Is there something wrong with my attire?” he asked as he looked himself up and down.

              “No, you look great,” Jessie chuckled. “It's just weird seeing you here in this apartment on this side of town. Something I thought I'd never see. I thought you were sending a driver?”

              “I intended to, but I couldn't wait to see you,” he said, smiling back at her.

              Heading downstairs and making casual conversation along the way, they climbed into the back of John's chauffeur-driven Bentley. The air outside was cooling after a sunny day causing Jessie to shiver at the change of temperature, and she realized how accustom she'd grown to simply wearing her usual sweats and jeans. It had been far too long since she'd dressed up to go somewhere nice.

              “Are you nervous?” John asked her. She hesitated before answering and then smiled.

              “No. Not at all. I'm not the nervous type.”

              “I could tell that.”

              The streets, normally fast and noisy by day, were calm tonight. There seemed to be a lull over the city as if time itself had come to a standstill. Jessie relaxed back in her seat and watched the city lights pass by the window, curious as to where their final destination would be. A short while later, that question was answered when the car came to a halt outside a tall hotel. Jessie had passed it several times on the bus ride to her college, and she was always drawn to its architecture. It seemed to loom out from the block in an almost welcoming way, and it was strange that John had brought her here of all places. As if reading her mind, John chimed in to offer her some assurance.

              “Don't worry, the restaurant is on the top floor,” John comforted. “It may seem out of place bringing you to a hotel on our first date, if I dare call it that, but believe me when I say the restaurant is top-notch and the food is delicious. I hope you're not afraid of heights.”

              “I think I can handle it,” Jessie replied calmly.

              “Good, because the views are phenomenal. That's another reason I wanted to bring you here. You've never seen the city until you've seen it from up there,” he explained.

              They rode up in the elevator in silence, and Jessie noted that this was the third silent elevator ride she'd taken over the last week or so. She got the feeling that John wanted to take her hand yet was showing immeasurable restraint. A warmth exuded from him, but still the thought of what she was doing here with a married man was in the forefront of her mind. At least she wouldn't run into anyone she knew, she reassured herself.

              She could sense that there was nothing innocent about this dinner. She resolved to politely excuse herself when the meal was through and head home before things could get carried away. Sure, it looked like his marriage was likely over, but as of now he was still married and because of that she was determined to keep her guard up. However, after looking at his profile as the elevator doors opened, she wondered how she was going to stay in control. He was strikingly handsome, charming, and perhaps most importantly: she felt comfortable around him. There was nothing threatening about the man, and just being around him made her feel safe.

              John extended an arm so that she could exit first, a chivalrous move that she fully expected, and she smiled when he didn't disappoint. She found herself stepping into the top floor restaurant with walls made almost entirely of glass. The windows were so large and clean it felt as if she were standing out on a terrace, but the lack of wind, soft lighting, and comfortable temperature served as a reminder that she was in fact still inside the building.

              “Where is everyone?” Jessie questioned after looking around and noticing that, apart from a lone waitress standing a few feet from them, she and John were seemingly the only patrons.

              “I thought you might prefer a bit of privacy,” John answered with a grin, “so I booked the whole place.”

              Jessie turned to him in disbelief. “You didn't have to go to all that trouble – not to mention the expense.”

              “It was no trouble at all. Especially since I own this hotel,” he quipped.

              Jessie opened her mouth to speak, but the waitress interrupted her thought by asking, “Could I show you to your table?”

              John nodded, and they followed the waitress to a table at the far end of the restaurant that was situated next to one of the room's many gigantic windows. The décor was calming yet seductive with dark wood and deep red upholstery. The whole place oozed sophistication, making John Harwood look very much at home. After soaking in the view of the city lights, she relaxed into her seat and picked up the menu.

              “Can we get champagne?” John asked the waitress, who nodded and promptly left the table to fetch his order.

              “Are we celebrating?” Jessie inquired, her brow raised in curiosity.

              “You could say that. Today I asked Kimberly for a divorce,” John said solemnly.

              “I'm sorry. We're commiserating rather than celebrating,” Jessie said with genuine concern in her voice.

              “No, it is a celebration. I've been under so much pressure this past year and a half. Trying to keep a marriage together that probably should never have happened.”

              “But who can resist a supermodel, right?” Jessie raised an eyebrow.

              “It wasn't like that, Jessie.” John was suddenly serious for a moment, looking almost hurt by the comment. “I'm not like that. Kimberly once had beauty from within. Sadly, money and power changed all that.”

              “And it didn't change you?” Jessie asked cautiously.

              “Yes, I'm a changed person. I admit it. But I worked hard to get to where I am now. But,” he leaned in towards her, “I never forget where I came from. And that's important.”

              His face was tantalizingly close to hers. His lips were almost kissable, and if she just moved forward an inch she could plant hers on his. She resisted, reminding herself to maintain her composure and hold steadfast in her resolve to not get carried away. He may have dropped the word “divorce,” but he was still a married man and things could very well change between him and his currently estranged wife. Aside from that, there had been all that publicity about his wife's affair in the press lately and she had no way of knowing if he'd secretly forgiven her for it. What if he was only wining and dining her just to get revenge on Kimberly? Perhaps his plan was to have his own affair and stay with Kimberly after all. She didn't get that vibe from him at all, but they had been married for over seven years. What if he still loved Kimberly despite her recent betrayal?

              Jessie shook those thoughts from her mind. Surely John was not so scheming, and he came across as incredibly sincere. She relaxed and found it surprisingly easy to get along with him despite their cultural and social differences. They had a lot to talk about, and more in common than she imagined. She had envisioned him being from a rich family; privileged and spoiled. The reality, however, was that John was a small-town boy, just as she was a small-town girl. He'd worked hard to earn an extraordinary life for himself, just as she was working hard to secure her future as well.

              He was very interested in the business degree Jessie was studying for, and offered her valuable insight she would be sure to employ in the future. He was a wealth of knowledge which came as no surprise to Jessie given his reputation as a savvy businessman. Before she knew it, the two of them were opening a second bottle of wine and enjoying that on top of the champagne they'd begun the evening with. By the time they cracked open a bottle of his favorite whiskey reserve towards the end of their three-course meal, Jessie's head was spinning and John was feeling a bit loopy as well.

              “You know,” she said to him. “I always liked this building. I never knew you owned it, but the architecture is beautiful.”

              “I've always loved it,” John gushed. “That's one of the reasons I had to buy it. Sorry, that sounded pompous.”

              “Not at all. You've got money – get over it,” Jessie joked, causing them both to bellow in half-inebriated laughter.

              “Tell you what?” John said. “Let me give you the grand tour of the place. The interior of the hotel is just as nice as this restaurant. Kimberly always hated the place. But let's not talk about her. Finish your drink, and I'll take you on a guided tour.”

              Jessie gulped down the remainder of her wine, and together they walked down the marble stairs to the luxury bedroom suites on the floor just below the restaurant. John crooked his elbow so that Jessie could link her arm through it, and for a moment she felt as if she were living a fairytale.

              “I love all the detail of the ceilings. The sculpted corners and the setting of the chandelier seems like it should be in a ballroom or something,” John said, stopping to look up.

              Jessie raised her head, realizing how buzzed she was in the process, and she tried not to giggle as she took in the alabaster cornices in the large hallway.

              “The paintings?” she said. “Are these special in any way?” She had stopped to look at one on the hallway wall.

              “Well, they were originally hung on the walls of a suite on a lower floor.” John explained softly. “Apparently they were commissioned by the original owner who loved the work of a local artist. The artist died in poverty, and the paintings aren't worth a lot. But, looking at them, I would say they could easily be in the Guggenheim or the Museum of Modern Art. What do you think?”

              “Absolutely.” Jessie took in the paintings in more detail.

              “Here,” John said, and enthusiastically bounded towards the double-doors of one of the hotel's luxurious suites. “You have to see my favorite.” He unlocked the doors and felt for the light switch but had no success finding it.

              “Isn't anyone staying here?” Jessie asked, but realized it was a silly question the second she opened her mouth.

              “I keep this one vacant for special guests,” John said, smiling in the darkness. “If I have a relative or business associate staying in New York, I put them up in here. But it's vacant at the moment. Come on.”

              He took hold of Jessie's hand and led her through the dark living room into the wide expanse of the bedroom. In the dim light, Jessie could see a four-post bed on an elevated platform, and the drapes were open, letting in the city lights. She watched John's silhouette search for a light switch yet again. He managed to find this one, and lit up the painting that hung above the enormous bed.

              John held out his hands as he presented the painting.

              “What do you think?” he asked beaming with pride.

              The painting was of a New York Park scene: children playing, and a mother or nanny sitting on a bench with her hand on a stroller. John explained that it dated back to the 1930's, which was also when the hotel was constructed.

              “I think it's wonderful,” Jessie remarked with a dreamy look in her eyes. “It reminds me of my favorite book.”

              John quickly turned to look at her. “You're kidding me, right?” he questioned, moving closer to her. “Are you talking about
Peter Pan
?”

              “Of course. That could be the nanny of the boy who never grew up.” Jessie pointed with a tip of her head.

              Moments passed in silence. How strange that their favorite book was one and the same? It was as if a magnetic force was pulling them together, and they found themselves slowly inching their way closer to one another. The heat of their bodies was intensified by an overwhelming need to get closer still; skin against skin. Jessie could feel it, and she knew John felt the same.

              He tilted his head slightly to the side and touched his strong yet gentle hands to her cheeks. He sighed a hot breath and she felt it on her lips, the sensation sending waves of heat throughout her body. He leaned in and their lips joined, slightly parted, but enough for his tongue to reach inside her mouth and begin to explore. She responded by wrapping her arms around his shoulders, now up on her toes to try to match his height.

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