Seduced By The British Billionaire (Billionaire BWWM BBW Romance Book 1) Read online

  By the entrance there was a man standing in uniform, his buttons shining brightly. Obviously there would be Valet parking in the grand Condominium. But Amber was too shy to let him park her car. She pulled up a bit on the side of the street, parking by an hour meter.

  She fumbled through her small black purse for quarters, but gave up after discovering her wallet was dry. Hopefully she could make it out in time before she got a ticket. She shirked the payment, got out of the car, and walked all the way up the nicely paved sidewalk. Before her lay a set of golden-rimmed glass revolving doors that led onto magnificent cream marble flooring. The air smelled of brand new leather as the breeze of the doors hit her nose.

  Dear God it smelled amazing. Stepping into the grand lobby, the first thing she noticed was the large welcome desk. Behind it sat a woman with a tight bun and a serious expression on her face. She eyed the crowd quietly, stopping to take notes and answer the phone. There were men in polo’s and khakis of all ages, and women dressed from head to toe in brand name clothes. They walked almost wistfully, their noses slightly higher than the average person. This wasn’t the first time she had been here, but it was the first time in daylight.

  The Elevator was located adjacent to the front desk. Some lady was kind enough to hold it open for her as she stepped inside. When the older woman asked her where she was headed, Amber replied, “To the Penthouse, ma’am.” She always did her best to remain polite.

  The woman looked her up and down, her whole mood changing instantly. “Since when do they let girls like you in the Penthouse.” She questioned, clearly prejudice in her own fashion.

  Amber’s face flushed. “I’m sorry,” she asked defiantly. The woman’s brash rudeness ultimately shocked her.

  Curling her fingers tightly around her purse and tucking it further beneath her arm, the older woman turned around and proceeded to ignore her. She pressed the button to her floor, and then the penthouse button afterwards. Her curly hair was definitely colored. There wasn’t a speck of gray hair on her probably fifty-year-old head. The rest of way up was awkward. Amber stared around at random things, counting down the floors as they passed. She probably fixed her hair a million times before they reached the fifteenth floor, where the lady briskly exited. A young woman was standing by the doors waiting to enter. She hurried in, long blonde waves draped over pale shoulders. Her rouge lips upturned into a sweet smile upon seeing Amber.

  “Hi,” she greeted, almost bouncing perfectly in her petite French peach dress. “I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Olivia, but I usually go by Liv.” She looked at Amber’s slightly thicker form with an enthused expression. The scent of vanilla emanated from her, filling the air with sweetness.

  A little thrown off from the transition between her last resident encounter, and this young woman, she stammered over herself. “H…Hello. I’m Amber,” She held out a cold hand. How stupid she felt stretching out her greeting. “I’m just visiting,” she managed to say.

  Shaking her hand, the girl touched her ever so slightly with soft buttery skin. She looked almost perfect. Maybe she was a model and loaded with money. The pearls on her neck had to be worth a tiny fortune, if they were real. Dear goodness, Amber thought while looking at her.

  “Where are you headed?” Amber asked while posing for the buttons on the elevator panel.

  “The Penthouse.” She smiled. “You?”

  Amber’s heart stopped. What did this girl want with Charles? Such a pretty delicate little thing seemed to threaten almost her entire existence with those last two words. Who was she? Was she a girlfriend or a call girl perhaps? She was too old to be his daughter… Skeptically Amber eyed her, a rush of thoughts racing in her head. She decided to go with the calm subtle approach. “I’m headed there, too.” She faked a smile. She was so good at that.

  Liv seemed rather puzzled for a second. She bit down on her lips and crossed her arms, seemingly unhappy with what she heard. “What do you mean you’re headed there, too? That’s where my husband and I live.” Her brow furrowed until the creases in her forehead showed prominently. “How do you know Charles?” The tone in her voice switched from day to night in a matter of seconds. The muscle in her jaw seemed to tighten a little as she fiddled with the large diamond ring on her left hand.

  Shock registered on Amber’s face. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to show her surprise, but the discovery was almost too much for her to intake. “Wait a second,” Amber reached to play nervously with one of her loose strands of hair. “You two are married?” Rage began to seep in as the shock in her body leaked away. The lying bastard failed to mention this before she stripped down naked and lay with him.

  She wracked her brain to images of him. She couldn’t recall seeing a ring on his finger, or even the shadow of one that he might’ve taken off after years of use. He had never mentioned a wife, or a pretty one at that. God, she was so damn gorgeous…how the hell was she able to compete with that?

  Almost as if she were defending her home from invaders, Liv straightened up to an unbelievable height. Her Prada shoes dug into the floor with tiny pointed heels. “I assure you,” she emphasized the words rather deeply. “Mr. Livingston and I have been married for eight years, very happily.” She hissed.

  Amber coiled up inside. There was no point in denying the one simple fact: she had just slept with a married man and her heart had undoubtedly fallen for him. She was stupid and it killed her. Not once had she even considered asking him if he was married. She just automatically assumed that he was a young rich bachelor looking for a good time.

  “Oh my God.” She couldn’t look Charles’ wife in the eye. Not now. Not after she had slept with her husband only days prior. I’m such a whore, she thought, guilt plaguing her heart. She wanted to apologize but what good would it do? Admitting it to a female who already felt threatened would only hurt the situation.

  She searched instead for a route to escape, some way to leave the elevator without a confrontation. Charles’ face burned in her memory, the sickly regret slowly building in her stomach.

  “What,” Liv flipped the sassy attitude rather well, throwing in a Boston accent to complete her utter perfection.

  She had to lie. It was the only way. Damn…She winced as the words came out. She was a really good liar, always had been. Ever since she was little, she could lie her way out of anything. Now she called on the skill to bail her out of this one.

  “I’m not visiting a Mr.…who was it you said…Charles?” She pulled a confused look. “I’m visiting the Penthouse of a Ms. White. I’m her new housekeeper.” The name was randomly pulled out of the air but it would have to do. She needed to fake being lost because there was no way she blended in with everyone here. It would make more sense that someone of her class would be looking for work instead of a one-night stand with a British married billionaire.

  Placing her hand almost perfectly on her heart, Liv almost gasped with relief. It was all over her countenance. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…” she paused for a second, hoping that Amber would give her good graces. “Here I thought you were…” She shook her head. “Silly me. I’m sorry, please forgive me,” Her accent flowed perfectly off her tongue.

  The field was hers. “Don’t worry about it,” Again with the fake smile, Amber reassured her. The bitch wasn’t worth her time. If only she could get her hands on Charles. There was so much emotion raging within her.

  “Ms. White must not live in this building,” Liv volunteered. “I would try the condominium across the street. The Penthouse here is already taken.” At least she was trying to be helpful or seem concerned. Whether or not it was legitimate, Amber couldn’t tell.

  “Thank you very much,” Amber said when the light to the Penthouse level lit up. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I hope you and your husband have a great day.” The last words came out of her mouth like cotton, dry and empty.

  As Liv turned around with extreme grace and elegance, Amber gave her a stank l
ook until the elevator doors returned shut. She wanted to scream from all the emotions welling up inside her.

  Upon reaching the bottom floor, stepping outside the lobby, and putting the key in her car, she noticed something on the front of her wheel. The tiny little ticket flapping against her windshield caught her eye before she went to investigate further. She picked it up, her heart dropping when she read what it said. Very neatly written out was a parking ticket. She grimaced at the amount written in bold. She knew exactly what was attached to her wheel. There would be no getting out of this one today.

  Could anything else go wrong that day? She checked the sky for rain, but fortunately the weather was on point today. Work was going to be long and horrible. She was just dreading everything right now. She didn’t want to talk to Charles until her heart was ready to keep from yelling everything to him at once. Instead, she whipped out her cell phone to text Melanie. To make matters worse, her battery had miraculously died. Of all the things…

  She yelled a little and kicked her car’s tire. “Stupid piece of crap!” Yes there were some people who turned to stare at her. They silently shook their heads and remained on their path to wherever they were headed.

  Today was probably the beginning of the worst day of her life. She just wanted to cry, yell and laugh all at the same time. She had a hard time choosing an emotion as they all welled up in the pit of her belly. So instead, she balled her fists and made her way towards the dreaded Subway, because that was her only choice at this point. She decided to wait on the crying for later. It had to come out eventually.

  Chapter5

  The next couple days were ridden with anger and resentment. Charles had called her a few times but she refused to pick up. He left her voice messages asking her if she was okay. Of course she was. She just didn’t want to talk to him. So she dealt with her raging emotions how she always had ever since she was little. She painted. Mermaids were her favorite. They were easy to depict emotional trauma, such as the despair of being trapped in a net amidst a storm at sea. They were sensual and erotic, which sometimes took her into a whole other world of darkness.

  Melanie would drop by to check on her while she was still in town. She was crashing over at Sasha’s place, helping out with the baby and cheering up her friend. The reality of her husband’s funeral had taken its toll. She was doing better though. She had quit crying in the middle of the night but it was still a touchy subject. No one could even mention her husband’s name before she burst into tears. Quietness would steal her soul, rendering her speechless amongst the writhing pain she felt in her heart.

  Even though Amber tried to compare her own situation to her friends, it didn’t seem any less troublesome. Charles didn’t have the decency to tell her he was married. Her hand gripped the paintbrush tightly, delicately stroking what would eventually become shadows of clouds. The horizon was dark and roiled in her picture, almost the mirroring the feelings she held deep inside. Many paint blotches later on her clean t-shirt, she heard a knock at the door. First it was really soft. She enjoyed playing Mozart in the background as artistic inspiration. It was hard to hear the door above the staccato symphonic. But the second time it rapped into her serene concentration, causing her to jump and drop her paintbrush.

  “Great,” she muttered, hoping that the deep grey color wouldn’t permanently damage her rug.

  The knock persisted as she stood up from the bar stool and skirted around the mess on the floor. She would clean it up later.

  Her apartment complex had a thing against peep-holes because there were none on the doors. She had to unlock the knob and crack the door open. Charles blue eyes looked intensely at her.

  Scowling at him, she voiced. “What do you want?” She had no intention of speaking to him, even though his face looked slightly hurt with the harsh tone towards him.

  Instinctively he reached out a hand to hold the door open. “I want to know what’s going on with you. I’ve been calling you for days. You haven’t even bothered to answer my calls or replied. I deserve some kind of explanation.” He insisted, his eyes a complete gateway into his soul.

  She took a second to consider things before shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk right now.” She replied. “It would be better if we didn’t.”

  “What did I do? Just tell me!”

  Charles was never a desperate man, but this woman was driving him to the point. She could tell plainly from his body language. He was using brute strength to keep the portal of their conversation open. She knew she couldn’t struggle against his grip, so she decided to wait him out.

  “Can we just go our separate ways Charles and pretend none of this has happened? It’s not you, it’s me.” She lied to him, looking him straight in the eye as the falsehood slipped off of her tongue.

  Charles slammed his eyes shut for a second. Rubbing them furiously, he took in a deep breath. “Shit,” he mouthed softly. “This isn’t what I wanted.” His lips tightened in a grim line.

  She shrugged apologetically. “We can’t always get what we want, not even someone as rich as you.”

  Jutting his chin, Charles eyes lowered. “Now that’s not fair,” he pointed out. “You don’t know what my life is like, so you can’t judge.”

  Crossing her arms defiantly, she cocked an eyebrow haughtily. “Oh can’t I?” Her tone was aghast. “Says the lying ill cheater with a supermodel wife.” She snapped. Almost immediate she felt the repercussion of her decision to blow her top. She regretted it as the words came out, cringing inside as his face turned from fury to utter disbelief.

  He had been caught. His entire body stiffened uncomfortably. “Amber I…”

  “You don’t get to talk.” She hissed with flared nostrils. “What the hell Charles? Did you think that I just wouldn’t find out about your wife or the nice little pill drawer you have going in your bathroom? What am I to you, some kind of sick game?” She pointed her finger rudely at him. “I have feelings for you. More than I wish I did. But you had to screw that up didn’t you?”

  He started to speak, but she cut him off.

  “No.” Her hand flashed up. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Go home to your wife and fuck her instead.”

  With almost all the strength she could muster, she threw her weight against the door. He jerked his hand back before she could crush it. Then leaning against the door, she sank to the floor with tears rolling down her face. Her heart ached. How badly she wanted to tell him how she felt towards him. Maybe if he had begged her to forgive him… But no, she couldn’t give in like that. She wasn’t going to be treated like a side babe for whenever he got horny enough. She wanted some sort of value in herself. As far as she was concerned, she was nothing to him but a good time. Drowning in her sorrow, the lump in her throat increasing to a detrimental size, she fished out her phone. Flashing Melanie a text, she sighed.

  Need a drink…bad

  Tonight was going to be a long night, and she didn’t want to do it sober…or alone.

  *

  Lights in the club flashed striations until it would make anyone epileptic instantly drop into seizure mode. There was even a warning on the door about it, which almost everyone ignored. But it was wild and loud, a perfect distraction to the outside world. Amber knew she was going a little crazy searching out this kind of distraction. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted to forget him and forget everything. Melanie seemed to always be successful in these kinds of places, so why couldn’t she?

  “Woooooo!” Melanie came and sat at the little table next to her, her Martini raised in the air above her mini skirt and tube top. “See I told you this was fun,” She said encouragingly. “And so many single men here, goodness who do I choose?” She winked her eye, sarcastically posing the situation as a problem.

  Amber eyed the crowd of young men and women dancing erotically to steady streams of music. They all looked like a giant heap of sex, rubbing and grinding freely against each other. Wasn’t exactly the kind o
f world she was used to, but right now she didn’t care; she felt soiled by the touch of a man already who seemed to treat it like a one night stand. Downing half her drink in one fell swoop, she slammed it on the tabled. Her eyes were half crazed at the moment, waiting for the buzz to drive her towards her goal. Once the alcohol took her in its clutches, she would begin the hunt. The art of woman would commence, picking out her prey for the night.

  “I’ll watch your drink.” Melanie giggled, plainly showing her buzz upon sitting down. “You go have fun.” Her voice slurred a little with her accent. She didn’t care. “Ha! I’m a little drunk girl,” she admitted, her hand fanning the air. “Gee it’s hot in here.”

  Amber grinned, feeling the first initial shock of warmth wash over her body as well. It made her feel alive. “Don’t drink too much.” She hollered over her shoulder while walking towards the massive throng. Somewhere in there would be someone who could drown away her feelings for the night. Equipped with only a tiny little red dress and stiletto heels, she bumped her booty inside. Someone’s hand reached out to touch her, but upon turning around, she couldn’t tell whose it was. Everything was up for grabs in the place. Her body moved and twisted to the beat. She let her mind go, relishing in the music until the alcohol had claimed her as its servant.