Bedding the Billionaire

By: Kendra Little


Tuesday the fifth was rapidly turning into the worst day of Abbey's life. She'd quit her job, discovered her boyfriend (who was also her boss) had slept with her friend, and she was about to have sex with a complete stranger.

In front of a hidden camera.

Surely it wouldn't come to that. Lucy had assured her she probably wouldn't have to go that far. But 'probably' was still too likely as far as Abbey was concerned.

Standing outside a stranger's hotel room wearing her shortest skirt, her highest heels, and laciest lingerie, Abbey suddenly wished she'd tried harder to find a job. She could wait tables, deliver pizza or clean houses—anything that paid her bills.

This job was paying her bills, she reminded herself. It may not be in her chosen career path, but it was easier than waiting tables and as Lucy had said, no experience was necessary. Besides, it was too late to think about getting another job now. She needed the money, and this was the best offer she'd had so far.

Okay, so it was the only job offer, and she'd only been unemployed for about ten hours, but money was so tight her credit card could hardly breathe. If only that bastard of a boyfriend and boss hadn't cheated on her, she wouldn't have been forced to quit and she wouldn't be standing outside a stranger's door in such a revealing outfit. This was definitely all his fault.

When Lucy, a private investigator and her best friend, offered her the job when her regular girl called in sick, Abbey jumped at the chance. It paid half of what Lucy would receive from her client and it might lead to another job, if she did it right. If she wanted another one.

At least Lucy had assured her she wouldn't have to get completely naked. Not if she didn't want to. All Abbey had to do was get the man into a compromising position long enough for Lucy to get some good shots, then she could get out of there.

Abbey took a deep breath and clenched her fist to knock.

Hell, what was she doing? This was insane. She wasn't a hooker. She wasn't even comfortable looking at her naked body in the mirror. And Lucy expected her to undress in front of this man? A total stranger?

Abbey sucked in a deep breath then let it out slowly to calm her nerves. She had to do this. She needed to do this.

She knocked. Waited. She hiked down her skirt, suddenly ashamed of its death-defying height, and mentally ran through her lines. Maybe it wasn't too late to leave...

The door opened and a disheveled man glared back at her.

Abbey gasped despite her nerves. He was gorgeous, and he was dressed in nothing but a hotel-issue towel wrapped around lean hips. His muscular chest was tanned and a sprinkling of black hair tapered down to into the towel.

Well. At least he was already undressed. That was half her problem solved.

"What?" It was a demand, not a question.

"Um," Abbey swallowed and tore her gaze away. "My name's Abbey." She turned on a bright smile. "I'm here to inform you, Mr. Vane, that you've been selected to receive a free massage, compliments of Le Miridian hotel management."

The man, Damien Vane, scanned her from head to toe, lingering over her bra-less breasts and her exposed thighs. Abbey felt her face heat up, but she didn't move.

This was good. From the spark in his eyes and the quick jerk of his Adam's apple, she could tell he liked what he saw.

But instead of inviting her in, he shook his head and began to close the door.

"Wait!" She pushed on the door. He waited impatiently. "It's free," she said weakly.

"No thanks. I just arrived in Melbourne, I'm tired and I want to get some sleep. I don't need a massage."

He began to close the door again and Abbey panicked. She wanted to get this over with and collect the money from Lucy's client. If she didn't...

Abbey didn't want to think of the alternative. Moving in with her mother was definitely not something she wanted to experience again. Ever.

Anyway, the guy was damned cute.

She stuck her hand in the door. It closed on her fingers.

The scream that followed was broken only by the most vulgar expletives Abbey could think of. It wasn't entirely an act—jammed fingers didn't tickle—but it wasn't as painful as she made out.

It worked. The door flew open.

"Jeez, are you all right?"

Her hand was caught by two large ones and gingerly inspected. For a thrilling moment she thought he was going to kiss them better, but he didn't.

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