Blame It On The Billionaire (Blackout Billionaires Series Book 3) Read online

  Cherise Chandler’s ice-blue stare swung from him, to Nadia, then back to him, dismissing the other woman. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

  Yes, and he’d been ignoring her all morning. In the last few months, his mother had taken to blowing his phone up and always with the same subjects: returning to Chandler International, marriage, duty. He was...tired.

  “I’m sorry I missed them,” he lied. “I didn’t mean for you to come all the way down here, though.” Truth.

  “Well, how else was I supposed to invite you to lunch with us?” she asked.

  Us? For the first time he glanced behind his mother and noticed the petite woman standing with her. Adalyn. Jesus Christ. How much worse could this damn Monday get?

  “Adalyn.” He nodded in his ex’s direction.

  Adalyn smiled, taking the curt greeting as an invitation to approach him, place a hand on his chest and rise on the tips of her stilettos to brush a kiss across his cheek. Only manners bred into him since birth kept him from stepping back and wiping the imprint from his face. From the glitter in her green eyes, she guessed it. She’d always been fond of games.

  He’d never divulged the true reason behind their breakup to his parents. Adalyn hadn’t cheated, but in some ways, it would’ve been less devastating to him if she had. Still, he’d given his parents the old “two different people” excuse, not so much to protect Adalyn’s reputation but to shield himself from their scorn. His father would’ve called him a fool, and his mother would’ve gifted him with her patented “You’re a disappointment” look and the “marriage is about more than love” speech.

  No, he’d kept his mouth shut. But now, with Adalyn using this opportunity to wheedle back into his life, he regretted the decision. His father and mother might have scoffed at him, but at least they would have known why he couldn’t abide this woman’s presence.

  “I was so delighted when your mother called and invited me to come see you this morning. Like I said Saturday, it’s been such a long time. I would love to catch up with you,” she fairly purred.

  At one time, that sensual tone and pouty mouth would’ve had him ready to find a private place. But that had been before he’d discovered her love had been an act. Before he’d discovered he was just a walking, blue-blooded bank account to her. Before she’d shattered whatever he’d had left of his belief in the inherent integrity of people.

  She’d been a brutal but effective teacher.

  “I’m afraid lunch isn’t possible today,” he said, switching his attention to his mother and not bothering to address Adalyn. “My schedule is full.”

  “Nonsense,” his mother dismissed his excuse with a wave of her hand. “We’re family, and you can move meetings around. I’ve already made an appointment for twelve at—”

  Anger, frustration and, yes, he wasn’t too proud to admit it to himself, desperation, coalesced inside him, and before he could question the logic of his decision, he moved forward, closer to Nadia. He slipped an arm around her lower back, his hand resting on the lush, feminine curve of her hip. She stiffened, but he ignored it, silently praying that she didn’t pull away from him.

  “No, you misunderstand. Lunch isn’t a business meeting. I already have plans with Nadia.” He paused, then pushed out, “My girlfriend.”

  A silence filled with “what the hell?” reverberated between all of them. Beneath his hand, Nadia damn near vibrated with tension, fury, shock—most likely all three. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d just thrown her under a runaway bus, rendering her the sacrifice on the matchmaking altar. In the deafening seconds that passed, he could’ve rescinded his announcement, passed it off as a joke, but he stayed silent, hoping she’d go along with him.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cherise snapped.

  “You can’t be serious,” Adalyn spat at the same time, dropping the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth act.

  Both women glared at him, then switched their glowers to Nadia. The need to protect her surged within him, and he shifted closer, his hold tightening.

  “Of course I’m serious,” he replied, tone silken and heavy with warning. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Adalyn sputtered, red flooding her face, but she pressed her lips together, wisely remaining silent. His mother had no such compunction.

  “She’s not exactly your type, is she, Grayson?” she scoffed, her gaze scouring Nadia. Cherise then settled a hand on Adalyn’s back. A smirk curved his ex’s mouth.

  He frowned and parted his lips, a hot retort jumping on his tongue. But Nadia beat him to it.

  “She isn’t a type at all,” Nadia said dryly. “But a person who just so happens to be standing here.”

  “So you are seeing my son?” Cherise demanded, as imperious as a queen speaking to a peasant.

  Again, he opened his mouth to warn his mother about her tone, but once more, Nadia beat him to it.

  “That’s what he said,” she said. Then with such sweetness Grayson would need to make an appointment with his dentist, she added, “He’s not in the habit of lying, is he?”

  He swallowed back the growl that shoved against his throat. She’d thrown his own accusation about lying back in his face. God, he didn’t know whether to snarl at her or murmur “well played.”

  “Grayson, I need to speak with you.” Cherise paused and shot a meaningful look at Nadia. “Alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he apologized again. “I don’t have time right now. Gideon is probably waiting in my office.” Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss across his mother’s cheek. “I’ll call you later. Adalyn.” He nodded abruptly at the other woman, then turning, he strode back across the lobby, his arm still around Nadia’s waist.

  This time when he punched the call button for the elevator, seconds passed before the doors slid open, and he guided her inside. Only when they started to rise, did he drop his arm and shift away.

  And tried to ignore that he could still feel her, as if the prolonged contact had branded the sensation of her into his skin.

  He wished he could ignore her, forget that the scene downstairs had happened. But he couldn’t. As angry as he remained that she’d lied to him—and he still couldn’t stop the nagging need to know why—he’d dropped her right in the middle of a family issue without her permission.

  That made him a desperate asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. He already knew how he looked in her eyes—a hypocrite.

  A year ago, he wouldn’t have had any problem telling his mother to back off, to stop the matchmaking. But that had been before Jason died. Before Grayson witnessed his stalwart mother fall apart in grief. Causing her any more hurt when she’d lost the son of her heart...

  Maybe it made Grayson a coward and a hypocrite, but he couldn’t do that to her. But neither could he let her or his father rule his life again. He’d labored and sacrificed for this company, for his freedom.

  God. He clenched his fingers into a fist at his side, staring ahead at the sealed doors.

  He was so goddamn lonely.

  And other than Gideon, trusting in someone had burned him in the past. So Grayson took only what he allowed himself to have. Those few hours of sex, pressed close to someone and pretending they were intimate. Pretending they were sharing more than just pleasure. Pretending that in the morning, he wouldn’t escort them from his home with no promises.

  He glanced at the silent woman next to him. In that hallway, he hadn’t needed to feign anything. And maybe that’s why he couldn’t eradicate the inane sense of betrayal.

  For once, he hadn’t been faking it. And she had been.

  Focus, he ordered himself.

  He had to fix the problem he’d created that now involved her. And unfortunately, he saw only one way out of it.

  The elevator drew to a halt on the twenty-fifth floor, and he moved forward, cupping Nadia’s elbow.

&nbs
p; “This isn’t my floor,” she objected, stiffening under his hand.

  “We have to talk,” he said in way of explanation. “I can hit the emergency button on this elevator, and we can do it here and chance the fire department being called, or we can go to my office and have privacy. Your choice.”

  “That’s a choice?” she muttered but moved forward.

  “I never claimed you would like either option,” he said, not bothering to keep the bite from his tone.

  He guided her down the quiet hallway toward his office. Not many people had arrived yet, but those that sat behind their desks threw him and Nadia curious glances. He could just imagine the gossip that would erupt behind them as soon as they passed.

  Moments later, he paused next to his assistant’s desk. The older woman regarded both of them, but nothing in her expression or voice betrayed any curiosity. Only one of the reasons he valued her. She was the very definition of discretion.

  “Mrs. Ross, would you please notify...” He trailed off, frowning. “Who is your supervisor?” he asked Nadia.

  She arched an eyebrow, and he swallowed a growl at the not-so-subtle reminder that he didn’t know a damn thing about her. “Terrance Webber.”

  He nodded, familiar with the VP of operations. And now he knew who to have a talk with about requiring their employees to work when they weren’t on the clock or financially compensated. Although he would now make sure Nadia would be for Saturday night.

  “Would you call Terrance and let him know Ms. Jordan is in a meeting with me and will be a little late arriving? And also, call Gideon and tell him we need to move our meeting back a half hour.”

  His friend wouldn’t be happy, but the delay couldn’t be helped.

  “Yes, sir,” Mrs. Ross said. “I’ve updated your calendar. You have a conference call scheduled for ten thirty. Lunch with the Forester Group at twelve thirty and an appointment with legal at two. I’ve also emailed you the messages you’ve received so far this morning, listed in order of urgency.”

  “Thank you.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled free a couple of paperbacks. Settling the books on top of the desk, he pushed them toward his assistant. “For Jack. You mentioned he just started the J.D. Robb In Death series. I saw these and picked them up for him.”

  A warm smile spread across the woman’s face, lighting it up. At sixty-three, she should’ve been readying herself for retirement, not still working. But her husband had been injured on his job five years ago, and even with his insurance, the bills had piled up. Not that she seemed to mind being the breadwinner of the family; the woman was devoted to her husband.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chandler,” she murmured. “He will love these.” Clearing her throat, she gave him another smile. “I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.”

  Nodding, he headed toward his office, still clasping Nadia’s arm. Once he closed the door behind them, he released her. What he had to propose would be unprofessional enough without any more unnecessary touching.

  “Please, have a seat,” he invited, waving toward the two arm chairs that flanked his wide glass desk.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to stand. Since I won’t be staying long,” she added. “You’re either going to fire me for Saturday or order me to pretend the scene downstairs didn’t happen. Neither should require much time.” She emphasized her point by peering down at the slender watch on her wrist.

  Her reminder of the night of the blackout rekindled the fury simmering inside his chest. “That’s where you’re wrong, Nadia,” he snapped. “I can’t fire you because I had inappropriate relations with an employee.”

  Hell, “inappropriate relations.” Such an anemic description of the cataclysmic sex they’d had. Even standing here with her, frustration and anger a hum in his blood, he couldn’t deny the presence of the third emotion swirling in his body. Lust. For the plush mouth set in a firm, unsmiling line. For the full breasts that had filled his palms to overflowing. For the long, thick legs that her ugly skirt couldn’t hide. For the sex that had clutched him like a lover’s embrace.

  “My actions could be misconstrued as sexual harassment or coercion. It doesn’t matter that you hid the fact that you are my employee.” He cocked his head, studying her impassive face through narrowed eyes. “Care to explain to me why you didn’t enlighten me about our association? Whether I recognized you or not, you damn sure knew me. And you. Said. Nothing. Why?”

  She didn’t immediately reply. Instead, she mimicked his gesture, tilting her head, as well. “Does it really matter now?” She flicked a hand toward the desk behind him. “Do you need me to sign a contract or affidavit swearing not to sue you or the company for sexual misconduct?”

  “No,” he snapped. Yes. The businessman inside him snarled at the same time. Jesus, she had him arguing with himself. “I want an answer to my question.”

  “I don’t have one to give you, sir,” she replied evenly. Stubbornly.

  “You mean, you don’t want to give me one.” When she remained silent, continuing to meet his glare, he bit off a curse and dragged a hand through his hair, pivoting. After several seconds, he turned back around, scrutinizing her. So many questions ran through his head. Who are you? What were your motives? Did you use me? Were you faking?

  No.

  Her motives for remaining in that hallway with him might’ve been self-serving, but those lust-soaked moans, those hoarse whispers... Those had been real.

  “About downstairs...” He exhaled a deep breath, focusing on the main reason why he’d escorted her to his office. “I’m sorry I dragged you into the middle of it. But now that I have, I need your help.”

  For the first time since entering the office, an emotion crossed her face. Surprise. Quickly chased by suspicion. Smart woman.

  “My help?” she slowly repeated. “What kind of help could you possibly need from me?”

  “For you to be my fiancée. I need you to agree to marry me.”

  Six

  Nadia stared at Grayson Chandler. No, gaped. Because she couldn’t have heard him correctly. He hadn’t just...proposed to her. Between leaving her house this morning and arriving at work, she must’ve been in a car wreck and was currently in the hospital, hopped up on morphine and she was dreaming.

  Dreaming of coming face-to-face with him in the lobby when that had never happened before.

  Dreaming of being an awkward witness to the tension-filled confrontation between him, his mother and the gorgeous woman who obviously had biblical knowledge of him.

  Dreaming of him introducing her as his girlfriend.

  And now dreaming of him announcing that he wanted her to marry him.

  Damn good drugs could be the only explanation for this hallucination.

  “Nadia?”

  She blinked, and no, Grayson still stood there, and so did she. The prick of her fingernails against her palm further solidified that all of this was indeed real.

  “What did you say?” she whispered.

  He sighed and thrust his fingers through his hair, half turning away from her. His profile as sharp as freshly hewn marble and utterly perfect.

  And she really shouldn’t be admiring the striking angles of his cheekbones, the arrogant blade of his nose and the criminally sensual fullness of his mouth. Not when he’d apparently lost his mind.

  “Not for real, Nadia,” he said, returning his blue-and-green gaze to her. God, those eyes. She’d somehow convinced herself they couldn’t possibly be that vivid, that penetrating and stunning. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Though she wanted to glance away from the intensity of his stare, the unique beauty captured her. “I don’t need a real fiancée, nor do I want one. I’m asking you to pretend that we are a happily engaged couple for several months. Long enough for my mother to forget this idea of fixing me up with Adalyn Hayes.”

  “Wait.” She threw up a hand
, palm out. “Your ex, Adalyn Hayes?”

  His gaze sharpened. “Yes. How do you know about her?”

  When she first started working at KayCee Corp, she’d inhaled everything she could uncover about him. Still, she doubted announcing “Because I have a humiliating crush and looked up everything about you” would go over well. Shoot, it mortified her just to admit it to herself.

  “Who doesn’t?” She deflected his question with a shake of her head. “So you two are getting back together?”

  He frowned. “No. But unfortunately, my mother doesn’t seem ready to accept that hell will have a freak blizzard before I marry Adalyn.”

  She blinked. “Well.”

  “So will you help me, Nadia?” he pressed, moving forward, and she just managed to check the urge to backpedal, maintaining the space between them.

  She needed that distance, required it. Otherwise his sandalwood and mint fragrance would wrap around her and influence her to do foolish things. Like bury her face against his chest. She’d fought that same impulse in the longest elevator ride known to mankind. And had barely won the battle. She wasn’t pushing her luck in this office.

  Again, she shook her head. “I still don’t understand. This must be a one-percenter thing, because normal, poor people don’t do this. Why not just tell your mother that you’re not interested?”

  Something flashed in his mismatched eyes. Before he said a flat, blunt and enigmatic “Right now it’s not an option,” she’d known he wouldn’t reveal anything to her.

  Turnabout was fair play, she guessed. After all, she’d dodged his question about why she hadn’t admitted to knowing him. Maybe if he’d been the flirtatious, warmer man she’d been trapped with, she might have felt safe confessing her reasons. But she couldn’t tell this cold, guarded version of Grayson that she’d selfishly wanted a night for herself, that he’d been her fantasy come to vivid life. That for once she hadn’t considered the consequences. That she didn’t think he would recognize her if their paths crossed again.

  No, she couldn’t share that with this familiar stranger. Would he use that info against her in some way? Fire her? Or worse...mock her?