At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? / High-Society Secret Baby. Rachel Bailey
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“Macy,” he said against her lips. “We need to leave.”
The fog of lust in her eyes gradually cleared and then she bit down on her swollen bottom lip.
“Thank you.” She said it quietly, but the heartfelt meaning in the two words couldn’t have been clearer.
“You’re welcome.” He stood and they both collected their carry-on luggage. He grabbed her hand and squeezed before they filed out of the plane and across the tarmac to their waiting limousine.
He knew she’d probably erect more barriers between them now he’d seen her vulnerable. But he’d be damned if he’d regret that kiss. It’d been incredible.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about how to make it happen again.
The driver Macy had engaged for their trip dropped them in front of the shopping plaza downtown, then took their bags to the hotel. A dark car sent by the security firm Ryder hired in Melbourne had met them at the airport and now pulled over to let two men out. They stood on the pavement, a few feet away. Macy’s shoulders tensed involuntarily, but she forced them to relax—far better to have the security there than not.
She edged closer to Ryder, amongst the people jostling and rushing, and pointed to the empty shop in front of them. “This is the one we’ve come to see.”
Ryder lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and stepped forward. “Main street, ground floor, corner with double frontage. Looks ideal.”
The front was all glass, which would give great views of the chocolate products, though it had been covered in newspaper from the inside so they couldn’t see in.
A horn beeped in the traffic behind them, and Macy turned to the cars before Ryder’s voice brought her attention back to him. “Is the agent meeting us here?”
“I had the driver pick up the key before meeting us, so we can just go in on our own.” She withdrew the key from her briefcase and unlocked the door.
Ryder said a few words to the security then walked in behind her and shut the door. Abruptly, most of the sounds of the city cut off, as did the daylight. Crossing the room, she fumbled along the controls behind the counter until she found the light switches. She flicked them all on, drenching the room in bright neon lights.
She turned slowly, surveying a countertop that had been left by the previous tenant. It was an old wooden, carved bench. Unfortunately it would have to go—it didn’t match the image they were after. All their fittings would be sleek glass and chrome. She ran a hand along the corner of the countertop, feeling its solidity. Its beauty of shape. A smile curved her lips—when she was running her own company, she’d have furnishings like this.
Another car horn outside made her look up, and she realized Ryder was at the edge of the room, leaning against a wall, hands in pockets, watching her. Even from six feet away, she could see his eyes were dark. And feel his heat.
She frowned and laid her briefcase on the counter. Keeping the image of a professional career woman was paramount when she was around him. Not giving him more openings to sway her to his plans of marriage and buying her father’s company.
The kiss on the plane had been a mistake—she’d let her fear and vulnerability affect her actions. Though it had been incredibly sweet of Ryder to distract her with the story. She almost smiled at the memory, but stopped herself. He may have been sweet, but she couldn’t forget his real agenda. A business marriage.
She stepped out from behind the counter and straightened her spine. “This is the front-runner of the retail spaces we’ve investigated, primarily for the location but it also has the floor space we need, and good access for regular deliveries.”
Ryder pushed off the wall as if he’d never been staring at her and walked the floor, measuring by his stride. “It seems good. How’s the price relative to similar properties?”
“More expensive than the others I short-listed, but when the extra features are taken into account, it’s comparable.”
Ryder continued pacing the room, assessing features as he went. “What length lease are they offering?”
“When I spoke to the agent, she—”
The door opened and a flash went off to her right, interrupting her sentence. Ryder swore and strode to the door, slammed it shut and locked it. Then he moved to a side wall and pulled back a corner of newspaper to look out.
A cold shiver ran across her skin. “Is it them?”
Without looking back, Ryder nodded. “About six paparazzi. It seems our supposed romance is still big news. Must be a slow news day in Sydney.” He let out a disgusted snort then came to stand in front of her, hands on hips. “The security have moved them away from the door but they can’t remove them completely from a public street. As I see it, you have two options.”
“Go on.” Despite the nausea in her belly, Macy blinked slowly, shoring up her reserves.
“One, we walk out the door, past the cameras to the hotel. The security will shield you from the worst of it and their car will meet us at the curb.”
The room tilted. A vision of them pushing past the small throng, with repeated flashes going off, made her dizzy. She took a stiff breath. “I can do that. But I think I’ll prefer option two.”
“I ask the security to organize a diversion. We sit tight for half an hour to an hour, then we leave unnoticed.”
Her stomach clenched. Memories surfaced of being with her mother, surrounded by paparazzi. Of being stalked by them after her mother’s death, when she’d been hurting and confused and grieving.
Would he judge her for lacking fortitude? Would seeing her vulnerable twice in one day change the heat that had flared in his eyes a few moments ago? She knew he respected her professionally, and his opinion of her personally shouldn’t matter, but the thought of losing his respect sent a hollowness to her stomach. “It seems the coward’s way out.”
“No.” He dismissed her concern with a nonchalant shrug. “If they bother you, then why let them harass you when there’s another option? All it will take is one call. We don’t even have to open the door.” He flipped open his cell phone. “Your decision.”
She looked into Ryder’s eyes, seeking, but his face was relaxed, genuinely offering her a choice. “Make the call.” Relief surged through her veins as he dialed the number and made plans.
It shouldn’t matter so much that people she didn’t know would take her photo for other people she didn’t know to look at in the papers. But it did. She’d always hated being put on display, but since her mother’s death, the thought made her sick.
She heard Ryder ending his call and turned to see him pocketing his phone. “All done. Now we wait.”
She nodded, acknowledging his words, but still uncomfortable that she’d needed him to organize the distraction. But, uncomfortable or not, he’d earned her gratitude. Again.
She took a breath, waited a beat, then met his eyes. “It means a lot to me that you’ve done this. Thank you.”
He frowned.