Bedding the Billionaire

Sutton

I could feel Mr. Williams’ gaze on my body as I hurriedly went through the closing routine at the bar. Every time my eyes met his penetrating gray ones, I pretended that I didn’t notice him staring. But we both knew better.

I couldn’t help but recall the name he had suggested belonging to my father, Hollingsworth Sutton, III. Had my mother named me after him? It had a certain kind of poetic justice. I had spent my life hating my unusual first name and now I find out that it’s the legacy to a fortune. That is, if Mr. Williams was telling the truth. Which I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to believe him or not.

With another glance in his direction, I noticed the tightening of his lips as I bent down to pick something up off the floor. A part of me felt like giving him the universal salute of displeasure. I didn’t want him sitting there, judging me. I could just imagine the thoughts running through his mind. He was likely thinking about how utterly unsuitable I was for his world.

Well, he wouldn’t be wrong. Mr. Fancy Pants was clearly a Park Avenue player and I was nobody from Nowhere, USA. Shit, in my short cutoffs and worn out sneakers I likely could have passed for a kid in high school. Mr. Williams was all man, from the tips of his Italian leather shoes to his broad chest beneath that expertly tailored suit and his understated diamond cuff links.

As if diamonds were ever understated.

“I’ve got to cut out of here,” Joe called out to me from the kitchen, shaking me from my thoughts. “Maggie just called. The baby has a fever.”

I nodded in sympathy and pretended that Joe’s wife didn’t call every night with some excuse for him to leave early. Far be it from me to call the woman a liar, be she was terrible bender of the truth. It didn’t really matter. I liked Joe, he never flirted with me and tried to keep Gabriel off my back. With a smile, I waved him on like I always did. “Have a great night, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mr. Williams cleared his throat.

I turned to him. “Did you need something?”

I tried to ignore the way my pulse jumped when our eyes connected. He was just a handsome man, nothing else.

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked in that clipped tone of his that said boarding schools and brunch on Sundays in the Hamptons.

I raised a brow. “No, sadly you have made that quite impossible by not leaving when I asked you to.”

His jaw ticked. “Your boss is gone?”

I nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

“Good,” he said, standing up.

I couldn’t help myself. I took an involuntary step backward.

His face went blank and then paled. “I wouldn’t harm you.”

“Sure, you wouldn’t,” I replied in a hurry. In truth, I didn’t feel threatened by him. However, he was a lot taller than I had anticipated. Call it PTSD if you will, but I had learned the hard way in life about men who were bigger and stronger than I was.

If anything, he looked even more alarmed by my quick reply. “I assure you. I have never harmed a woman in my life.”

I picked up the mop that had begun to slide out of my grasp. “Well, that’s fantastic to hear. Why don’t you head back to…? Where are you staying, anyhow?”

He shrugged. “I will get a room at the motel.”

I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped my lips. “You don’t want to stay there.”

He blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“Because you strike me as the sort of person who doesn’t care for bed bugs.”

“What?” He shook his head and then continued, “No, you can’t be serious.”

so late, I could see if Reena and

“The elderly women?” he asked.

But it’s far too late to be knocking on their door.

tensed. “Who

sheriff,” I replied as I put the cleaning things away and did a double

“I don’t need to stay with local enforcement. We can begin the drive now back to the airport. I have the private jet on standby.”

I said dumbly.

He nodded,

“Mark,” I said, purposefully calling him by his first name. “We are not going anywhere. If you would like to go back

he said purposefully. “I need to speak to you about your inheritance. There are certain requirements that must be

about this in

and motioned for me to walk ahead of him. I had already gathered my bag from under the counter, so I walked toward the door. I nearly jumped out

his hand away. “Escorting you to the door!”

going in and out of this door for years and

blazed for a minute. I wouldn’t have believed that those gray depths could appear as heated as they did now.

know much about gentlemen, but I do know about men who need to keep their damn hands to themselves.”

woman. I am not going to hurt

to the fly,” I quipped.

hell are you talking about?” he

replied. “Just…don’t

jerkily, tucking his hands into

locked the door and started toward the parking lot.

you, shall I?” he asked.

“Follow

like I was an idiot. Then speaking slowly, he said, “To your home. I want to make

myself. “Sugar, I have been walking the streets of Otterville Falls my entire life. I am safe here. You

he wanted to argue with me. But instead of waiting to hear what he wanted

heard the crunching of his shoes on the pavement. “Where is your

“Don’t have one,” I called back over my shoulder.

a car?” he repeated.

lot of things, Mr. Williams.” I continued to walk and sure enough

the relationship between you and

to look at him. Mark’s hands were still in his pockets. He should have looked ridiculous in his expensive

wasn’t under any illusions about what I looked like after a long day’s work at Abberly’s. My shirt was stained with grease, my hair was hanging limp around my face. In defense, I wrapped my arms around my

it matter?”

stepped closer until there was a frisson of awareness that sparked between us. “I

I could feel my brow crinkle in confusion. “What are you talking

to the women they care about with such disrespect. He undresses you with his eyes, and yet he treats you like something under

had with Gabriel in two sentences.

telling him the truth. “We aren’t even friends. His mama was kind to me when mine

didn’t want to go into the reasons why Mama

To my surprise, Mark said something under his breath that sounded

it seemed so out

are tired,” he said softly, those gray eyes

rather unladylike yawn and replied, “It’s nearly two in the morning, and there is a stranger following me home.”

felt the need to poke the bear. But when his

sure you

was oddly endearing. I was either far more tired than I had anticipated, or he was wearing on me. Because the next thing I