Seducing the Billionaire's Wife Page 10

  And it was entirely Hannah’s fault. Okay, so it was his fault. He should have never given in and rushed back to see her. Or at least, he could have had some self-control and stayed for only a day or two.

  But had he? He dropped his head into his hands and began to rub his temple.

  Oh no. He’d capitulated to his need for a reunion of some sort with her. With his need to discover if she was the same girl he knew.

  Now he was paying the price—contracts had to be revaluated, shareholders placated, and meetings had to be rescheduled. If any of those didn’t happen, then MI could start down a slippery slope of no return. Thousands would lose their jobs, and he would only have himself to blame.

  God, he’d been foolish to allow her to disrupt his life like that. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He refused. If and when Hannah visited Charlotte, nothing would change for him. He would continue as he always had, putting Montgomery Industry first.

  *

  After twelve straight hours at the office, Drew came home to a rather large party at his downtown apartment. Music played in the background, and waiters carried silver trays piled with hors d’oeuvres as partygoers mingled and talked.

  Dropping his bag on the floor, he muttered, “When in the hell did I plan this?”

  “You didn’t,” Ella said, appearing out of nowhere. “That man did. You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “To keep an eye on your place,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “About the other day, I might have given you the wrong impression.”

  “You’re a consummate professional, Ella. I don’t know how well my professional life would run without you to direct it,” he said, heading off the inevitable apology. “However, if I’ve given you the wrong impression, at any time, then I’m sorry. I value you as an employee.”

  Ella stared at him for a moment, and then said, “Thank you.” She placed her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “I’ll head out now.”

  “You’re welcome to stay.” And now that he was refocused, he could enjoy himself as well.

  She eyed the room. “Not my kind of scene.”

  “Good night.”

  “Night.”

  “But the party’s just starting, love. Come back,” Blake said, nearly sloshing wine over his glass. “Who else will glower at me all night?”

  Ella arched a brow. “I’m sure if you give enough people the chance to get to know you, then they’ll do more than glower.”

  “Feisty.” He winked at her.

  Drew bit back a groan. “Leave her alone, York.”

  “Right. Wouldn’t want to see Ms. Simpson get unruffled,” Blake said.

  “While I would love to see someone muzzle you,” she snapped.

  “That’s later, darling. Once everyone’s gone to bed.”

  Ella didn’t say another word. Instead, she pivoted and left Drew’s apartment.

  “Why do you needle her like that?” he asked.

  Blake smirked. “Because she likes it.”

  “You’re drunk, and she hates it.”

  Blake’s smirk gave way to a frown. “I know, mate. I can’t please the woman, no matter what I do. I’m nice; she’s icy. I’m an arse, and she’s fiery.”

  “You’re insane and a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

  “I would never harm her. Never,” Blake said flatly. “While I’m keen on teasing her, I don’t take things too far.”

  “I don’t think Ella sees it that way.”

  “Perhaps we can have a conference about it, have her come into the room, and—”

  “Look, I get that the two of you have some kind of weird thing going on, but you will stop treating her disrespectfully.”

  “I would like the same promise from her.”

  “You’ll get it.”

  Blake clapped him on the back. “Come in, come in. Take a load off. You look great, by the way. Your wife must be very agreeable.”

  “She’s herself.”

  “Shall we leave, or am I fired for the party?”

  “A couple of hours won’t hurt.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with Andrew Montgomery?” Blake asked, his eyes narrowing in on his face.

  “Still me.” He motioned to a waiter. “Beer, please.”

  “Your ex came.”

  “Ask her to leave.” He had no desire to deal with Alexis.

  “No worries. You go enjoy yourself, and I’ll take care of everything.”

  Over the next few hours, he mingled, talked, ate, and drank. He did every thing a good host should—except when he asked Alexis to leave when she tried to hit on him. But the party was wearing on him.

  Without Hannah, everything and everyone seemed pointless. He wanted her by his side. He looked around at the couples, at the way they stood beside each other, held hands, and whispered into one another’s ears.

  That was what he was missing. Maybe he’d been too hasty coming back. Maybe he could—

  He’d lost his damn mind. He’d had his vacation with Hannah. Now it was time to focus on work, he reminded himself. To refocus on running MI. Hadn’t he married her for that very right? Last week, he’d been in a crisis of sorts. Today, he’d gone to work and put things back to right.

  Work came first, as it should, and he didn’t have to be such a hard-ass about it to her. When Hannah decided to come see him, then he would explain everything, and she would understand. Hell, she would love not having to deal with him day in and day out.

  “Another beer?” Blake asked.

  “I’m good.”

  Blake’s eyes widened as he stared at a point behind Drew. “Who is that?”

  Drew turned, forcing his jaw to stay firmly in his mouth as the memories of their week together returned. They didn’t just wash over him. They slammed into him, knocked him over, and made him hungry for more. Damn it—just what he needed. “My wife.”

  Hannah approached Drew and the tall, blond man standing beside him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I might have packed my things and driven straight here.” She set the two suitcases alongside her. “Is this a bad time?”

  “No, but it would have been nice if you’d called?” Drew said.

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess I should have done that,” she said, her cheeks heating. “But I did text you today. You didn’t answer.”

  “I was working,” he said flatly, and she inwardly flinched.

  She nodded. “I knew that.”

  The blond man smiled at her, and she was struck with how handsome he was. He reminded her of a prince in a fairy tale.

  “Hi. I’m Blake York. You must be the Hannah. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Her knees got a little soft at his British accent, but what Cumberbatch fan wouldn’t? If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that Benedict was the one talking.

  “I think it’s time for everyone to leave,” Drew said.

  For some reason, it felt as though she’d intruded upon him, and it hurt. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m beat anyhow. Just show me to our bed and I’ll crash.”

  Drew’s mouth tightened, but he stood and took her suitcase. She had no choice but to follow him because he didn’t say anything to her.

  They went down a long hallway and stopped at the last door. “This is my room.”

  They went inside. A huge bed dominated the bedroom and floor-to-ceiling windows gave Hannah an unimpeded view of downtown Charlotte.

  “Wow. That’s… how do you sleep with all the lights?”

  Drew picked up a remote. Curtains appeared from the sides and covered the windows.

  “Holy crud! Love it.”

  “Comes in handy.” He set her bags down. “I’ll need to see to my guests. Make yourself at home, feel free to join us, or whatever you want.” He left the room without waiting for her response.

  “I want my husband,” she said.

  *

  The bed dipped under Drew’s weight as he crawled
on the mattress. Hannah opened her eyes and scooted over.

  “No, you don’t.” His arm shot out and grabbed her, pulling her toward him. He breathed deeply. “You smell so good.”

  “You smell drunk,” she said as he settled down beside her.

  “Missed you.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” she said.

  He threw his heavy thigh over her legs. “Sorry, Hannah.”

  She melted into him. “You’re forgiven, but that does not mean I’ll forget what you did.”

  He let out a snore.

  Hannah closed her eyes again. “I’ll make you happy to see me again. Like you were back home.”

  In what seemed like seconds later, Drew’s hot mouth on her breast woke her up. He took her nipple between his teeth and gently bit down. She cried out and he covered her mouth with his, seeking and demanding her tongue.

  His hands were everywhere, gentle, yet insistent as he stroked her, as he made her scream his name. She heard the sound of foil ripping, and he slid inside of her. Rocking, thrusting, and lacing their fingers together as he moved.

  He whispered how much he missed her, how good she felt, and how he would never let her go.

  “You belong to me.” He slid all the way out of her and cupped her between her thighs. “This belongs to me. Say it.”

  “I belong to you.”

  “Good girl.” Then he filled her once more, stroking her until she was mindless. Until she saw stars and then fell asleep once more, this time in his arms.

  They spent the rest of the weekend like that, sleeping and making love. Occasionally, Drew would venture outside to the kitchen and bring back food. He fed her. They talked of the future in the most general of terms before he would distract her.

  With sex.

  *

  As had become his new habit, Drew went to the office in the early morning before anyone had arrived, leaving a sleeping Hannah behind.

  He should have left her a note, but after the first weekend of Hannah in his home, he was still shaken from being with her.

  He should be sated. Satisfied. He should not want to be with her so badly that it borderlined desperation. She’d already been here for days, weeks.

  Yet, he wasn’t sated. He wasn’t satisfied unless he was either in her arms or buried inside of her. Preferably at the same time.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Hell, he’d gone home at lunchtime yesterday just to see her. He’d ended up taking her on the table, her little skirt hiked up to her waist while her breasts bounced with each thrust.

  That night hadn’t been any different. She’d asked about his day and they’d ended up in the shower with Hannah on her knees, her mouth making him groan.

  Today was the worst day to come. Today, she would meet his family as his wife, not as the girl they once knew. Exhaling, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  At least it was lunch, so he was guaranteed a quick escape.

  His door opened. “Morning,” Hannah said, her smile wary. “I thought we could have breakfast together, since we’ve missed so many dinners.”

  “Yesterday at lunch wasn’t enough for you?”

  “I meant I wanted us to eat together, like a family.”

  The reminder of what he’d been doing cut through him. He’d been treating her like anything but family. “I’m working.”

  “I see that.” She gave his clean desk and blank computer screen a pointed look. “Maybe you could take a few minutes and sit with me.”

  “If you want to fuck, Hannah, then I’m more than happy to accommodate you.”

  Her face paled. “I didn’t come here for that.

  “Too bad.” He wasn’t being nice, fair… or even decent.

  She put on a fake smile. “Maybe tonight.”

  “I have a dinner meeting.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “But that was last night.”

  “Ella forwarded you my schedule. You might want to double-check it.”

  Nodding, she put the picnic basket on the conference table and began to unpack it.

  “I’ve already eaten,” he said, not wanting her to go to the trouble. He didn’t deserve it.

  “I’m hungry. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll eat.”

  “By all means.”

  She sat down at the table. “You can sit with me.”

  Reluctantly, he did.

  “I have something I need to discuss with you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Remember when I said that I do odd jobs during the fall and winter?”

  He nodded.

  “My friend, Laura, owns an art studio. I agreed to help her out a couple of weeks ago, but then I decided to be with you instead because we’re newlyweds and—” She shook her head. “Anyway, I think I’m going to go home and help her. That is, if you don’t mind. You’ve been so busy and from the looks of your schedule for the next month, you’ll be even busier.”

  Panic hit him. She couldn’t leave. “But I might need you to attend a few functions with me,” he said.

  “Might? You want me to stay here over a ‘might need you’? Wow.”

  “You are my wife. You agreed to be my wife,” he reminded her.

  “I didn’t agree to be your convenient and legal booty call.”

  “Is that what we’ve been doing?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “We barely see each other and the only time you’re nice to me is right before, during, and right after we make love.”

  “Hannah, I told you I’m married to MI.”

  “But you’re also married to me,” she said quietly. “We were supposed to have a wedding last Saturday, but because you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone beyond Ella, I didn’t bring it up.”

  “You have a backbone, damn it. Speak up.”

  That set her off. “That would require us to be in the same room.”

  “I haven’t heard you complain.”

  “You have now. This is me complaining. I want the old Drew back. The one who spent time with me. The one who talked to me and—”

  “I don’t have time for that anymore. I gave you a week. Wasn’t that enough?”

  “God, you’re such an asshole, Drew. ‘Wasn’t that enough?’” She rose. “That week wasn’t enough for me, but these past couple of weeks, where I’ve been nothing but a sex toy for you, were more than enough for me. I want out.”

  A sex toy? She was a hell of a lot more than that. But he be damned if she would leave this marriage. “You can’t have out. You’re mine for the next five years.”

  “How could I forget? You only remind me of it all the time, like you’re counting down or something.”

  That was because he was. He was counting down until this beautiful woman walked out of his life, and instead of cherishing her, of making her feel special like her grandfather had encouraged him to do, he’d done the opposite.

  “We’ll have the wedding next weekend.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Sure we will. As long as something more important doesn’t come up. Here’s the thing, Drew—if you continue down this path, you’re going to end up a lonely old man without friends or true companionship. You won’t know who loves or likes you for you. All they’ll see is dollar signs, and all you’ll feel is mistrust. I’m offering you something real. I’m offering you years of friendship. I’m offering all of me, yet you won’t give me all of you.”

  “I can’t,” he began.

  “You won’t.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he growled. “You haven’t lived my life. You have no idea what it’s like to be me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. Because you won’t let me in.”

  “There’s nothing to see, Hannah. Not one fucking thing.” He picked up the small plate of fruit and hurled it against the wall. “There’s nothing. Nothing. Get that in your head.”

  “I’m leaving,” she said.

  “I’ll bring you back, kicking and screaming if I have to.”

  “I’m not leaving you. I�
�m leaving this room, this city… I need space. I need my old life back.” Her silver gaze turned hard. “But in the meantime, take your threat and shove it up your ass, Andrew Montgomery.”

  Then she left his office and him standing there, staring after her.

  Chapter Thirteen

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  Nothing was going as planned with Hannah. However, that was probably their biggest problem. She had become an unplanned part of his life, however permanent, and he was making her miserable.

  She was his childhood friend, the girl who had always accepted him for him, and never treated him any differently because of his last name or his money. His memories of her were precious. And he had no desire to destroy someone as precious as Hannah.

  The light in her silver gaze seemed to have dimmed in the last couple of weeks, and her smile no longer reached the outermost parts of her face. Hannah smiled with everything inside of her, always had… until she’d come to stay with him in Charlotte.

  Now it was as if she were wilting, becoming a shell of the girl he used to know and the woman he was growing to love.

  “Damn it.” He couldn’t be in love with her. Affection. Caring. Concerned. Those were acceptable feelings, but not love.

  Never love.

  Yet, he knew without a doubt that love was trying to have her way with him. Worse, if he loved Hannah now, then what would he feel for her in five years, when it was time for him to honor his word and let her go? It would drive him insane. He knew it.

  Hell, he hadn’t been able to go a day without touching her once they made love. Yeah, there was that damn word again, but it was true. With Hannah, sex was making love.

  It was intimate.

  Hot as hell.

  And it made him feel completely vulnerable.

  Ella burst through his office door, a determined look on her face. Shit. He did not need her drama today. “What did Blake do now?”

  “It’s not Blake. It’s your father.” She swallowed, visibly shaken. “He suffered a stroke and is on his way to Duke Hospital.”

  The floor seemed to drop out from under him. “What?”

  “You have to go. I already notified the airport.” She handed him his cell phone and an overnight bag. “Go. I’ll let Hannah know, and she can meet you there.”