Bedding The Billionaire Page 2

  “You ask her,” the dark-haired girl said.

  “You said you were going to ask her.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Lucy’s mouth twitched and she made a mental note to offer another seminar on developing confidence once summer break was over. These two were a mess.

  “Come on, ladies,” she called. “If you have a question, the best way to get the answer is to just ask. It’s just the three of us in here,” she pointed out encouragingly, waving her hand to encompass the empty classroom that was one of Lucy’s favorites on campus. Unlike some of the cavernous lecture halls she had to teach in, this one promoted a casual, intimate environment, and allowed her to actually get to know her students a bit.

  The two girls shuffled toward her as one unit. “Hi, Professor Conrad. I’m Janet Harger,” the blonde began.

  “Of course. I know who you are, Janet.” Lucy smiled encouragingly at her, and then at the other girl. “And you’re Lisa Mills. You both got As on your final exams. Excellent work.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened with surprised delight. “Wow, I can’t believe you remember my name.”

  “There were only thirty-five students in this class. Why would you be surprised?” Lucy asked.

  “Well, it’s just…you’re one of the hippest professors here.” Lisa leaned closer as if confiding a state secret. “I love how you change up your hair all the time.”

  “Thank you.” Like Lisa, Lucy was a natural brunette. She changed colors and styles on a whim, but she had a definite penchant for red; right now, her hair was a deep sherry color and the longest it had ever been. Her hair, her nose piercing, her personality, heck even the way she dressed set her apart from the other female professors who were prone to wear ankle-length flowery dresses or stuffy masculine business suits. The fact Lucy didn’t take herself too seriously was also reflected in her teaching style. She worked hard to be approachable and relatable to her students. Sometimes Lucy even—horror of all horrors—cursed in class. She didn’t make a habit of it, but when the expletive fit…

  She was glad that to Lisa, Lucy’s style made her hip rather than some of the less-complimentary things people had said about her in the past. But even if that hadn’t been the case, it wouldn’t have mattered. Lucy acted and dressed for herself and no one else.

  That included a certain incognito billionaire.

  Today she had on a camo-inspired jacket that felt like it had been tailor-made to hug her curves. Underneath it she wore a hot pink silk cami that revealed just a hint of her tattoo. Her flirty dark green skirt was pleated and ended mid-thigh. The four-inch pink platform wedges she wore were one of her favorite pairs of shoes. “So, ladies, is there something I can help you with?” Lucy prompted.

  “Um, yes, Professor Conrad, I’m sorry. Lisa and I had a question. We have this friend who is a…” Janet bit her lip, then said, “Well, let’s call her a ‘serial’ dater. She moves from one guy to the next with barely taking a breath in between. She says that’s how she wants to spend her life. She doesn’t ever want to get married, or have kids. I know you say that dating and sexual habits are a personal choice but we’re just worried that she’s going to get a bad reputation, you know?”

  Lisa jumped in. “And what about later on in life, when everyone else has settled down and she’s too old to have kids? What if she regrets it and people look at her as some weird old cat lady or something?”

  Lucy smiled at the cat lady reference, but the rest of what the girls said gave her pause. Everyone in the world was so worried about what other people thought of them. Few realized that if people would just be themselves and let others do the same, the world would be a much better place.

  “Sit down, girls,” she told them. “Please.”

  The girls pulled up two chairs and sat.

  “You two seem like good friends, and I’m sure the girl you’re telling me about is lucky to have you both in her life. But I have to tell you what I’m hearing here. Your concerns are about how other people will perceive her and how those perceptions will affect your friend’s life, am I right?”

  “Yes,” Lisa said. “We just don’t want people to think she’s a slut.”

  “People will think what they want. If they say it to her, I’m sure she’ll be hurt. But in the end, your friend has to love herself. Does she?”

  “She says it’s her life and she can do what she wants. She likes sex…a lot. She says that she’s over eighteen and she uses protection and she’s not hurting anyone, so it’s no one’s business but her own.”

  “She sounds like she knows herself and what she wants,” Lucy said. “That might change some day, but that’s for her to find out on her own.”

  Janet and Lisa still looked doubtful, so Lucy continued, “Look, everyone has a different perception of things. There are billions of people in the world and there would be no possible way to please them all. So in the grand scheme of things, who does it make the most sense to please?”

  “Yourself?” Lisa said, repeating what she must have heard Lucy say in her teachings.

  “Exactly,” Lucy said, holding her arms up high, as if embracing the very essence of herself. “The key to being happy is to love yourself. If you’re constantly trying to bend to meet the expectations of others, then you never even get a chance to know much less like yourself. There is nothing wrong with refusing to conform to the standards society has set for us as women. As a matter of fact, words like ‘slut’ were designed for the very purpose of trying to force us to conform. As long as your friend is happy with herself, try to be happy for her.”

  “Don’t you ever want to get married?” Janet somehow found the nerve to ask her. Lisa looked horrified by her friend’s brazenness.

  “I have two amazing friends who are in committed, long-term relationships. One’s married and I’m betting the other will be soon. I have no desire for any of that. I’m happy with my life as a single woman, and my friends and I both accept and cherish our differences.”

  The girls looked pleased with Lucy’s opinions. Most of her students usually were. One of the things that made Lucy good at her job was that she lived what she taught. She encouraged her students to be independent and empowered to take control of all aspects of their lives—from their careers to their own ideas about femininity and sexuality. She had done all of that herself since she’d become emancipated from her parents at the age of sixteen. And she had personal experience with having to live her life in spite of the negative opinions other people had about her.

  She dated a lot of men, and when she felt like it, she slept with them. Although she never slept with more than one man at a time, that was by choice, not because she’d ever promised monogamy or exclusivity to someone. She enjoyed a man while they were together, but when she tired of him, she didn’t feel guilty about moving on to the next, in particular because she was always honest about not wanting anything too serious. She liked to feel sexy, she liked sex, and except for the short time she’d dated Jamie, she’d never had a problem getting a man to give it to her. She dressed to show off her assets in their best light possible, and she didn’t think she should have to apologize for that to anyone; therefore, she didn’t.

  “Thank you, Professor Conrad,” the girls told her as they got up to leave.

  “Any time. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come and see me.” As they walked away, Lucy grabbed her notes from the desk and looked back down. Within seconds, however, she heard the girls giggle.

  Automatically, Lucy looked up.

  Immediately, she sucked in a breath and stiffened as her gaze collided with the golden brown eyes of Jamie Whitcomb, adjunct professor of environmental studies and, as Lucy had discovered after confronting him about the invitation she’d found, a genuine billionaire whose grandmother had been traveling buddies with Howard Hughes, and had left both Jamie and his sister seven-figure trust funds. After he’d confirmed just how wealthy he was and that he’d indeed failed to invite her to Paris becaus
e he hadn’t been ready to have her meet his family, Lucy had broken up with him, but only after she’d completely lost it. She’d accused him of deliberately hiding his background, “playing” at being a regular guy, and “slumming it” with a girl he was embarrassed of.

  Even now she cringed to think of it. She’d completely overreacted, driven by the fear that once again she’d fallen for a man who came from a world in which she’d never be accepted. Later, she’d wondered—if he’d taken the time to reassure her, would things have worked out differently?

  She hadn’t been playing games, but it had still surprised and hurt her that he hadn’t put up a fight.

  He’d simply agreed, saying, “If my wealth puts you off that much, Lucy, then it’s best we end things now.”

  Aside from work, their acquaintance should have ended there, but the situation had been complicated by the fact that Lucy’s best friend, Melina, was friends with Jamie, and that Rhys and Max, Melina’s husband and brother-in-law respectively, had needed someone to invest in a new theater for their Las Vegas magic show.

  That person had turned out to be Jamie.

  His gaze unwavering, Jamie strode toward her.

  Behind him the girls were still whispering and giggling, but a look from Lucy pushed them out the door. She couldn’t really blame them for their girlish adoration; Jamie wasn’t flashy, but he was certainly one of the best things to look at on campus.

  Of course, Lucy would never admit that out loud. Just like she’d never admit how much she missed him. How much she wished things could have been different between them.

  For a while after their breakup, Lucy hadn’t been able to hide her anger and hurt feelings. Now, time and distance—and yes, quite a bit of logic—had done its job. Okay, so he hadn’t told her he was wealthy, but he also hadn’t directly lied about it. Ultimately, she could understand why someone with that much cash wouldn’t want to advertise it. Although the end result of their breakup remained the same, she’d tried very hard to change her attitude toward him. It hadn’t hurt that Jamie had used some of his vast fortune in order to help Lucy’s friends. Since they worked together at the university and had friends in common, Lucy had decided the best thing to do was put aside her anger and make sure everyone knew she was moving on, even if she didn’t always believe it herself. But it wasn’t like she had any choice. Jamie was firmly in her past.

  She just had to make sure she acted like it. When they weren’t together, she could convince herself she had no regrets. But when he was near? For some reason, Jamie had the ability to throw her equilibrium off and make her feel a confusing whirl of emotions that made her act very unlike herself.

  “Jamie. What brings you here?” Lucy asked. She placed her notes back on the desktop and crossed her arms over her chest.

  He smiled and the combination of those incredible eyes, framed with mile-long dark eyelashes and a killer row of even white teeth, made Lucy shiver.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” he said, “and I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

  “Well, you gave my students quite a thrill. Think how giddy they’d be if they knew you were as rich as a sheikh.”

  “Yes, well…obviously not all women find my wealth to be an asset.”

  Lucy almost winced. It was true his money—or more precisely, the lifestyle and expectations that ultimately came along with the money—had sent her running, and even as she acknowledged how unfair that was, she also knew that eventually, he’d have been the one to judge her inferior and walk away from her. She’d just made sure she’d done it first.

  “I noticed you didn’t deny you’re as rich as a sheikh.”

  He sighed. “Honestly, Lucy. Can we just not go there?”

  Regret sent heat rushing to her cheeks. She’d meant it as a joke, but in hearing her own words, she’d just sounded snarky. She straightened some books on her desk. “You’re right. No point.”

  She studied him again. Even before she’d learned about Jamie’s affluent background, she’d never thought of him as a typical professor. He was handsome, to the point that he could make a woman forget her own name, and he was confident, commanding a room with his quiet presence alone. He had a sense of style, too, dressing in clothes that flattered his coloring and were tailor-made. She’d noticed right away that everything he wore was superb quality, even if it was just jeans and hiking boots. He taught environmental studies and spent a lot of time outdoors, taking his students on “learning trips” as he liked to call them. He was a hands-on professor and one of the smartest people Lucy had ever met. Most of all, he was truly a nice person. She’d never heard him speak an unkind word to anyone.

  Focus, Lucy. Focus on being civil and pleasant and getting him the hell out of here. But why was he here? He’d been on her side of campus before and he’d never stopped by. Why now?

  “How’s Joanna?” she asked, referring to the English professor he’d been dating the past few weeks.

  “I assume she’s fine. We’re no longer seeing each other. What about Jericho?”

  She spared a thought for the man she’d dated on the rebound soon after breaking up with Jamie. Jericho had been a long-haired, artsy and moody man with more piercings than a college campus bulletin board. He’d fit into her world perfectly. They’d spent their time combing through farmer’s markets and making vegan meals, and he’d played the ukulele for her over falafel. For a few months things had been good, but then Jericho had gone and Googled her. Suddenly, after finding out who her father was, he started asking her to front the bill when they went out to dinner. To “invest” in a new art studio and a new van he could haul his paintings in.

  And when she’d told him she and her family didn’t speak?

  He’d suggested—in all seriousness—that she act more like daddy’s little girl so she could gain access to daddy’s money.

  Screw that.

  Sex with Jericho hadn’t been that good. Certainly not worth putting up with bullshit. And it wasn’t good enough to get Jamie Whitcomb out of her mind, either. So she’d tossed the sprouts out of her refrigerator, stocked it with steaks, and told Jericho to take his ukulele and stuff it up his—

  “We broke up a while ago, as well.”

  “Ah. Any big plans for summer vacation?”

  Why all the small talk? she wondered. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for her to stand here making polite conversation with him? To resist stripping off his clothes and begging him, once again, to take it all the way? “Just Vegas,” she said, referring to her upcoming trip to visit her friends and support the opening of Rhys and Max’s new magic show. Jamie would be attending as well.

  She normally had more planned during the summer. Liked to get out of northern California and explore the rest of the country. But this time, she was looking forward to staying close to home. God, wasn’t she becoming the domesticated one?

  “So, about why you came…”

  “I came to say a goodbye, of sorts.”

  Her heart stuttered, but hopefully she managed to keep her face blank. “Goodbye?”

  “That’s right. I’m not coming back next semester.”

  “You’ve taken another teaching job?”

  “No,” he said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Teaching has been wonderful, but I always planned to return to Whitcomb Enterprises in Los Angeles. My father will be retiring soon. Plus, the company’s expanding into airplane parts manufacturing plants and my environmental science expertise is going to be critical in that expansion.”

  “I see,” she said, looking down at her hands, folded on her desk. “So, when are you leaving?”

  “I leave tomorrow in order to start the ball rolling, but I won’t officially be in the swing of things for a few weeks.”

  He left tomorrow.

  She hadn’t seen him much since they’d broken up. Only here and there. And she’d been so angry before. It had only been a few weeks since they’d been able to be civil to one another again. Now he’d be gone fr
om her life. Forever?

  She was more shaken by the news than she wanted to admit.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She swallowed, forcing a shrug. “Of course. I wish you well, Jamie.”

  “I may be leaving the university, but we’ve still got Vegas.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m attending a bachelor party while I’m there—one of my college friends is marrying my sister—and then I’ll be at the wedding.”

  “That’s right. Brianne. And Eric?”

  His jaw clenched. “That’s right.”

  “So the wedding is in L.A.?”

  “Coronado Island.”

  The well-to-do place where he grew up. Lucy had been there once. It was a beautiful beach resort town that managed to seem casual even as it reeked of old money.

  “Yes, well…I’m sure it’ll be a grand affair.” She rose from her seated position behind the desk, and to prove to him and to herself how over him she was, she came around to where he was and reached out to give him a hug. “See you in Vegas.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist.

  His shoulders were as strong and broad and taut as she remembered them. His scent as woodsy. His breath as soft on her neck as he held her tight, returning the embrace. Tingles shot through her stomach. God, what this man could do to her. Sexual chemistry had never been their problem.

  A little overwhelmed by being in bodily contact with a man her body still seemed to desire, she pulled back, intent on ending the hug. But when she tried to pull away, Jamie kept his arms around her waist.

  “Do you need something else?” she asked, now eye-to-eye with him.

  “Yes.”

  For a moment, time hung suspended, and it seemed as though Lucy could see every fleck of gold in Jamie’s eyes, could feel every pound of his heartbeat, could breathe in the essence of him…and then he cupped her face and kissed her, even as he wound the hair at the sides of her face up in his fingers and tugged. Lucy felt herself melt into him and a moan escaped her lips. As they parted of their own free will, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and sought hers out.