Secret Affair With A Billionaire Read online

  If I don't like somebody I shouldn't find them so tempting she thought as the hairs on her neck stood on end. She walked over to the radio and turned down the volume.

  "Are you going home this evening or should I get you a blanket?"

  He looked behind him as she turned down the music.

  "It can't be that late, you are still here."

  "I am about to leave. Leila has been alone most of the afternoon and I fear for the safety of the sofa."

  "I'm glad you are thinking about your dog."

  She stepped towards him and turned her eyes to the wall where he was working.

  "Are those the colour test strips which we chose for the plastered areas?"

  He pointed towards them with a loose open palm. "Yes, I have just put them on. We should let them dry during the night and tomorrow you can choose the colour you want and I will order the paint."

  "I thought we'd decided it was going to be all white?" She stood at ease with her arms folded making an effort to look at the wall. She had been staring at him far too frequently lately and his manliness and desirability was now beginning to annoy her once more. She could swear she knew when he was within thirty paces of her because of his scent. An ability had evolved as a sixth sense informing her where he was whenever he was in close proximity. "None of these three are white."

  "Yes they are, they're all white."

  "How can they all be white, there are three different colours?"

  "They are all white, just look at the tins."

  Emma mistakenly turned towards him and looked in his eyes which had that sparkling deep brown effect, which she knew was dangerous. Her pulse increased its pace immediately and her heart once again seemed to echo round the room. God damn him, damn him. Here she was, once again, getting all hot and turned on just because he was winding her up. This must be one of his favourite pastimes, activating Emma's hotspots with his teasing and his belligerence. He was always testing the strength of their truce, flashing her smile when she least expected, sending that tingling sensation down her spine with his deep growling laughter or he would be teasing her in that devilish manner that only he could with that sparkle in his eyes.

  She loved it but found it unnerving at the same time and that's why she hated him. Surely he knew exactly what he was doing and it was as if he wanted her to hate him just as much as he clearly despised her.

  She unfolded her arms and put them out slightly as she crouched down to take a closer look at the tins of paint. "Apricot white." She looked towards him and gave a smirk. "Blossom White." She gave a little victory shrill and turned to the final tin. "And what do we have here? Let's see shall we, can I guess, oh look it's vanilla white. Not one of these tins is white, Daniel."

  "You have just read them, they all say white."

  "But none of them are white. If one of them was white you wouldn't need to give me a choice."

  She smiled at him and felt very comfortable. The facts were on her side and she knew this was going to turn into an argument. This was an argument she could enjoy and know that she was guaranteed to win. And she could always pull rank as the client. She wanted white, she was going to have white and he was going to admit that he had three tins of paint, none of which were white. She began to feel excited at the prospect of going into battle with Daniel when the odds were so stacked in her favour. She held the winning hand and also had the ultimate trump card.

  "You don't understand." He said with unwarranted confidence. "They each have a different finish, one is matt, one is silk and the other is gloss. They are all white but they each have a different finish.”

  She studied his face which had never looked so serious. Her face was open with disbelief that he could attempt such a feeble argument. She smiled and looked him straight in the eye, her lips changing shape to give her face a cheeky, expressive look. She felt relaxed and confident in his company and oh my God, did he turn her on. She walked towards him in a playful way, and put both her hands on his chest. She slowly wiped her hands downwards.

  "What colour is this T-shirt?" She demanded.

  "It's white, or at least it was this morning. It is a bit dusty in here".

  She clenched the T-shirt in both hands and pulled him towards where the paint tins were resting on the floor. The force of her pulling could have been easily resisted by Daniel but he voluntarily played the game and followed her as she marched backwards. On reaching the tins she took a small paintbrush and dipped the end gently into the pot of apricot white.

  "This is a apricot white." She said as she drew a stripe over his right nipple down to his lower torso. "Now, if you look closely, and you don't have to look too closely, you can see that apricot white has a yellowish tint which is contrasted against your white T-shirt." She turned away, wiped the end of the brush on a piece of rag and dipped the end of the brush into the paint tin containing vanilla white. She turned back to Daniel and repeated the brush stroke down the centre of his chest to his belly button. "That is vanilla white, note the contrast once more between vanilla shading and true white."

  She turned back to repeat one last time, wiping the brush in the piece of cloth she had used previously.

  "And what colour is the top you're wearing?" He asked.

  "It's Persian green."

  The very fact he had spoken set the alarm bells ringing in her mind. The alarm was all the more pressing because he had asked her what was the colour of her own top. She felt his movement behind her, and she saw his hand appear to grab the tin. She knew what was about to happen, but at the same time couldn't believe that he would use paint on her. He was in his work clothes after all, she was in her office clothes. This would not be fair if he was going to use the same tactic against her as she had just used on him. But he wouldn't, would he?

  She moved quickly towards his arm to prevent him getting a hold of the tin. She pushed his arm downwards and as his hand was holding the handle the tin tipped over pouring its contents to the floor. Emma squealed as the paint rushed by her shoes and waves lapped up over her toes. She jumped in an attempt to avoid the paint, and as she landed back to the ground her feet slipped as if hitting a banana skin sending her feet upwards and her backside towards the ground. Meanwhile, Daniel had made better effort at avoiding the torrent of paint. He had thrown each foot in the opposite direction so as to straddle the rushing flow. But as Emma fell to the floor she grabbed his arm and pulled in an effort to maintain her balance. With Daniel being in such a precarious position and with the force of Emma's falling body pulling at him he fell to the floor landing on top of her as she lay in the layer of paint.

  There was a brief moment of silence and panic as Daniel looked for a clean section of floor he could use to push himself upright. The silence was broken as Emma gave out a big hearty laugh whilst lying prostrate on the floor. She just looked up at the ceiling as she recognised the thrill and sensations of anticipation and the rush of adrenaline through her veins. This was the very feeling she used to seek out, these were the feelings she used to spend so much time and effort trying to give herself.

  Daniel scrambled upwards and looking down at the beautiful Emma covered in paint, totally undignified yet laughing so heartily and joyously without a care and realised he couldn't contain his own emotion any longer. Before he had reached the crouching position he himself collapsed in laughter at the predicament they had stumbled into. It was some moments before either of them had the strength to move. When finally Daniel managed to stand up he reached down and grabbed her hand pulling her into a sitting position. He walked around behind her and put his hands under her arms squeezing the top part of her body and gently lifted her so she could stand once again on her own feet. The laughter had subsided, as it became clear just how much paint had covered Emma, it being all along the back of her jeans, her green top and a good part of her hair as far as the crown.

  "If that's what you do to a girl when we are in a truce I'm not having anything to do with you once the truce is over."

>   "I hope you're not blaming me for your own actions."

  "If you knew what white was and didn't need a simple explanation, and if you hadn't played so rough around the tin of paint then none of this would have happened."

  He looked at her and could see that she was no longer laughing. In fact she looked a little lost and the old angry Emma that he knew all too well was stood there looking straight through him and hating every fibre in his body.

  He moved forward with one of the sheets and made a pathetic attempt to clean some of the paint off.

  "Just leave it, leave it alone. Look what you've done, I will never get this out."

  "We can get you new clothes easy enough."

  "Never mind the clothes, just look at my hair it's ruined. What do you intend to do about that, buy me a wig?" She looked at him and saw his casual indifference and took it to mean that he didn't care. This made her madder than ever, because she had so tried to care about him and she so wanted him to care about her. "I hate you." She screamed. She lunged forwards and grabbed the cotton sheet from his hand. "Give me that!" She demanded. He released his grip of the sheet and she dragged it along with her rolling it in to a bundle as she stormed towards the door.

  But he couldn't let her go, not like this and not in the state she was in. He sprinted after her finally catching up at the foot of the stairs. She slowed down her pace, because she knew she could never out run him, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of waiting or turning to acknowledge that he was following her. He reached out and firmly clasped the top of her arm causing her to rotate towards him. He pushed towards her forcing her back against the bare brickwork.

  "You don't hate me because of what just happened. If you hate me it's because I know you as well as I do."

  "Well Mr know it all, I hate you because you think you know me."

  His breath was warm and scented with a minty fresh hint. "You hate that you cannot avoid me, and that we are forced together like we are."

  She tried to free herself squirming one way then the other and then back the first way with more force. But he pushed his hips against her stomach and she took a sharp intake of breath as the shock of his contact sent tingling nerve sensations up towards her breasts.

  Daniel lowered his head towards the side of her head and he whispered but in a deep voice close to her ear. "And you hate me because when we are close you are turned on by me, and even now you are turned on and you don't want to be."

  "Yes." She forced it out with a closed mouth but then realised she hadn't made it clear whether she was considering the hating part or the turned on part. But she knew the truth, it was yes to both.

  "So if I kissed you, you would hate that too wouldn't you?"

  "Yes, I would really hate it." Her voice trembling as she knew she was lying. She felt the dampness of the paint on the back of her head and the matted hair. She felt a mess and didn't want to look this way while he was there. Her head was a mix of confusing emotion. She wanted to cry, she was angry with him but at the same time she wanted him, she wanted to kiss him, she just wanted him. Her lips quivered and she bit down on them hard to prevent them giving away how she was feeling. She didn't just hate him she hated herself for wanting to kiss him. She'd done it before and she knew from recent history just what close proximity could do to her body and if they were to kiss, then God help her, she would just want more and more.

  And if you hate somebody as much she hated him then you could never sleep with them even if the very thought made her body burn and tingle like nothing else ever had.

  "Well I am not going to, so apart from the stray tin of paint today is your lucky day." He pushed towards her firmly pressing her against the wall and examined her face. He saw that lost girl with remorse and regret once again. He lifted his hands from her arms put them on the wall behind her and pushed himself away. Glancing back down at her fragile soft face he knew that now was not the time. He put his hand on the sides of her face and brushed her hair back behind the ears on both sides.

  "It's time for you to go home, Emma."

  She looked up at him almost pleading with him to take her there and then, whilst being grateful to him for letting her go. She struggled to catch her breath, but having controlled her breathing she threw her chin high and made towards the door, her hand clutching the cotton sheet she was carrying.

  At the door she stopped and turned back.

  "If you want me to hate you as much as you hate me for what I did all those years ago, then you have achieved it. I hope that makes you happy Daniel." She fought back tears and swallowed hard so her emotion wouldn't give her away.

  "I would say we're even now, don't you think?"

  Chapter 5

  The bars and restaurants of Alderley Edge were filling up fast with a mix of locals, the usual crowd of visitors and a few celebrity spotters. It was Friday night and this was the place that Daniel and his building team chose to take a couple of drinks after their week of effort. Nick turned to Daniel and increased the volume of his voice to be heard over the cacophony of sound in the bar.

  "Would I be right in thinking there's been an argument with you and Emma, gaffer?"

  Daniel had no time to answer before Nick waved to somebody behind him. He scowled across at Nick in response and turned to check out who had been the target of Nick's interest. It was Emma. And whilst his head was turned to look behind him he also gave a glance around, noting who she was with.

  It was her old meets from a few years ago. It sure hadn't taken her long to get back in with them had it?

  "There's no need to call me gaffer outside of work." He had turned his back on the mob from Emma's school-days and had adopted that comfy slouching position all men take up when waiting at a not too crowded bar. Standing sideways on, leaning into the bar resting on his elbow with one leg perfectly straight and the other bent resting on the brass rail. "Has she said anything?"

  "Not to me." Nick was positioned face on to the bar leaning forwards on both elbows as Daniel waved his free hand to signal to the barmaid. "I have noticed she's been a bit quiet lately, hasn't she? We have missed her the last few days, not being there, she does tend to brighten the day."

  Daniel had noticed that his building team had all been showing an over concern with her non-appearance. The way they had acted would have made someone who didn't know any better believe that she was on her deathbed. When she was there, they were going out of their way to make her laugh and that was probably even more distracting than when she was trying to make them laugh. This had meant Daniel needed to jump on his men a little more frequently to prevent them falling behind the work schedule. This was why they now found themselves in Alderley Edge, the end of week treat was to ease Daniels conscience.

  It wasn't the building teams fault that Daniel was suffering with his mood.

  But he wasn't going to feel guilty for what had taken place with Emma. She had withdrawn into herself at just the time when he thought they were getting closer. He had very nearly kissed her, and surely would have by now had that dammed paint tin not fallen over.

  "If we get the gallery finished ahead of schedule, that should cheer her up."

  "Sure would." Replied Nick, putting his flat hand up to his temple by way of salute, causing Daniel to laugh.

  The other three builders arrived and suitably armed with a pint each they made their way to an empty table a few feet away from the bar. They got into the normal blokey chitchat about football and motorbikes though Daniel's attention was elsewhere. He was more interested in what was happening on the table just fifteen feet away from them.

  One of the women on the table spotted Daniel and she raised herself, lifting her body and gesturing to offer a seat as she waved to attract his attention. Daniel returned a slow smile and lifted his glass in acknowledgement before turning his attention back to the boys. He couldn't help thinking to himself that there would be an interesting conversation starting on that table.

  "That's Daniel, your ho
usekeeper's son."

  Emma glanced over, not that she needed to, she was well aware of Daniel's presence and everything he had done since she had been there. But it was another opportunity for her to check out Daniel. His black leather jacket and blue jeans with that slick dark hair and his over towering presence easily made him the most dashing man in the room. He had quite the bad boy look, was handsome and she knew that those women she was sat with would know precisely where he was on the eligible bachelors in Cheshire list. Sitting there with his casual smile and deep brown eyes made him an open invitation to any woman with a pulse and the nerve to go over and introduce herself.

  "It is Daniel, isn't it?"

  Emma had had enough already this evening and Sarah's question was close to being the final straw. She didn't really want to be there that night, going out with old school friends is always better in anticipation than in reality but it would have been rude not to accept the invitation. They had been her school friends but she wasn't sure that they were friends any more.

  "Yes it's..." She scowled inwardly as she realised she was about to use abusive terminology to describe him. Using his history against him to undermine and defile his character.

  "Daniel Kendrick." Lauren gave Sarah a small dig with her elbow and cracked a smug looking smile. "Oh yes the lovely Daniel, and if you don't know who he is, he's got more money than your family Emma. And I saw him on the most eligible bachelor list in Cheshire last year. I think my heart is beating faster already."

  Emma had to suffer Lauren's upbeat mood as she imagined the fantasies racing through Lauren's mind. She invented a new name for Lauren on the spot which was going to endear the rest of her life such was the intensity of feeling. From now on she would be known, in Emma's mind, as Leering. The Leering Lauren.

  Sarah wasn't joining in Lauren's over excited exhibition. The reference to the Hartington's money she had found inappropriate. Emma and Sarah were both from a more privileged background, with the big house and family wealth which stretched back for generations. Lauren was not from this privileged life and knew it. It would be very difficult for her to marry into that social class even though she was a successful young woman in her own right. But Daniel was a self-made man, and to Lauren that was her best chance of marrying into wealth, because somebody like Daniel was much more likely to mix with people through all the social classes. This isn't something people talk about freely, indeed it is only considered subconsciously, but it certainly exists as a remnant of the old class snobbery.