The Billionaire's Love

Chandra woke up the next day to the greeting of bright, glaring daylight. She sat up, and instantly, dizziness enveloped her. She gritted her teeth and realized she had a splitting headache.

  “Shit!” she muttered under her breath, knowing she’d have to hurry up and take some pain killer; otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to function properly throughout the day.

  She shifted her body, and pain erupted from her ankle. That was when what had happened last night rushed back to her in full force.

  Her heart raced the moment she remembered Sam Harrington, the kiss in the club, and him with her in the lift and in the office on the fortieth floor, which she now assumed was his.

  “Oh my God!” she murmured, a full blush creeping across her cheeks. She couldn’t believe it. Just couldn’t believe those things really had happened last night, that she kissed Sam Harrington, that he helped her with her sprained ankle.

  Slowly, she moved her legs up, being careful with the ankle. She tugged her knees under her chin and hugged herself tight.

  “Sam Harrington,” she whispered. “Lilly’s father. A billionaire elite. With a wife and child.” She sighed. “You’re sick, Chan,” she said to herself. “Very sick in the head.”

  Yes, she’d better stop herself from getting any more involved—both emotionally and physically—with Mr. Sam Harrington, the billionaire elite. She had to do it pronto if she wanted to be sane, if she didn’t want to hurt herself, if she didn’t want to destroy someone else’s marriage, someone else’s family.

  Sticking to single, available men was what she should do. Not pinning for someone who was already taken.

  Single. Available. Men.

  It was then she remembered she had a date with Jeremy White this evening.

  Panic seized her, and she hastily reached out for her cell phone. She quickly searched for Jeremy in her contact list and then rang him.

  She waited impatiently for Jeremy to pick up. Please pick up, Jeremy, she prayed.

  “Chan?” Jeremy’s voice came through. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, Jeremy,” she said. She knew her tone was apologetic, and she wondered why. After all, it couldn’t be helped she wouldn’t be able to make it to their dinner date tonight.

  “Sorry, is this not a good time?”

  Jeremy chuckled. “Nope.”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  He laughed. “No. What I mean is it is a good time. It’s fine. I’m just hanging out with some friends at the moment.”

  “Oh, right. Um… Jeremy, I just wanted to tell you I can’t make it to dinner this evening.”

  A short pause, then Jeremy said, “Oh? I see. Is everything all right?”

  Chan thought he sounded a little upset. Well, what could she do? Her ankle was sprained, for God’s sake.

  “I’ve gone and sprained my ankle. I can’t walk at all properly.”

  “What? Are you okay?” He asked. “When did it happen?”

  “Last night. I was with my friends, and… Anyway, sorry about dinner.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll rearrange the date. Hmm… How about Thursday night? Surely your ankle will be better by then. That’s if it’s not broken or anything.”

  “I’m going to get it checked tomorrow. I sure hope not.” She laughed.

  “Actually, how about I come around this evening? Is that okay with you? I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  Chan shook her head. “No, Jeremy. I’m fine. I don’t want to bother you. Please, I’m—”

  “No, Chan. I’m coming no matter what you say.”

  She sighed. There was no stopping him. “All right, then. But if you’re sniffing for a free dinner, you better negotiate with my sisters.”

  He laughed. “Hmm… I think I will. I promise to bring a plate.”

  She laughed. “Sure. I guess see you this evening?”

  “Yes. See you this evening,” he replied.

  “Bye,” she said and then hung up. “Well, that’s sorted, then.” She set the phone back on her bedside table and then carefully got out of bed. Just as she was doing that, her tummy growled.

  “Food,” she said. “I need food.” When the rush of pain overwhelmed both her head as well as her ankle, she muttered, “And some aspirin.”

  Still in her flimsy tank top and sleeping shorts, not to mention her long hair in a tangled mess, she headed downstairs. More accurately, she limped down the stairs, her hands held tight to the wooden rail. She felt like she was some old granny trying to make her way below. It was slow progress, and once she landed on the ground floor, she smiled with glee. She’d think about heading back upstairs later. Now she was happy she was able to make it without anyone’s help. Of course, last night had been a chore of its own just going up the stairs with both her sisters’ help.

  She limped along the corridor toward the living room as she called out to her sisters.

  “Dara? Soriya?” she beckoned softly. “Are you guys around?” When there was only dead silence, she sighed. Surely, they must be up by now. It was past ten in the morning.

  Damn, her headache was getting worse. She was sure she hadn’t drunk any alcohol last night, so it wasn’t a hangover. Maybe she was dehydrated. Or perhaps it had been the way she’d slept last night.

  Rubbing her temple with her fingers, she rounded the corner and walked through the door that’d lead her into the living area.

  “God, my head and my ankle are killing me,” she said softly as she limped in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Want some help?” A manly voice came her way.

  Chan jolted straight.

  Wait! What?

  Then her heart proceeded to race. Oh God! Surely, she was daydreaming, right? Surely, she hadn’t heard the voice of Sam Harrington in her own living room.

  God, she didn’t want to find out. She didn’t want to face reality. What if he really was here? What if the query wasn’t in her imagination?

  She licked her lips and then slowly turned to her right. The moment she saw him, she wanted to die.

  Oh My God! Sam Harrington was really in her apartment, looking as comfortable as ever, sitting there sipping coffee.

  Shit! His eyes were intense on her person.

  Suddenly, she felt conscious of her disheveled self. She knew she must look a mess in her tank top, sleeping shorts, and bedhead. Then, of course, she couldn’t do anything except gaze at him, dumbfounded.

  “Hello,” he greeted, giving her a handsome, radiant smile.

  Chan licked her lips again and blinked several times. A blush creeped up her cheeks as she watched him set down his cup of coffee. Then he proceeded to make his way toward her.

  In response, she staggered back and found herself cornered against the wall.

  Sam came and stood inches before her, towering her with his great height.

  Chan stared, flabbergasted, as he proceeded to lean over and scoop her into his arms. She gasped and found she couldn’t say a thing. She was at a loss for words as he then carried her toward the sofa.

  Oh God! She wasn’t really dreaming at all. She could feel him—as warm as the sun and hard as a rock. She could smell him, too. The masculine scent of… Sam Harrington. She quivered in response, as his nearness was affecting her in the most seductive way.

  They were halfway to the sofa when Dara appeared at the door. She stopped short in her spot and simply stared at them. Then she smiled brightly and said, “Hello, sister.” She shifted her gaze to Sam and continued. “Hello, sister’s savior.”

  As if it were only natural, Dara continued toward the kitchen, and Sam continued carrying Chandra toward the sofa. This, of course, both amazed as well as shocked Chan.

  What? Her sister just acted as though this sort of thing happened to her on a daily basis. And this man? He acted as though she were his girlfriend or something. What would his wife think if she saw them now? More importantly, why the hell was he here of all places? Did he not have a wife and child to go home to?


  After he’d made sure she was comfortable, Sam took a seat beside her.

  Dara said, “Want something to drink, sis?”

  Chan, still watching Sam with interest, said, “Yes, please. Hot chocolate. Oh, and can you please get me some aspirin as well? My head and ankle are killing me.”

  “Sure thing,” Dara replied and then turned back to prepare the hot drink.

  Chan wondered suddenly if it were Dara who had allowed Sam into the house. Actually, come to think of it, how did he know where they lived?

  “I’m back,” Soriya announced at the door. When she saw her sister on the sofa with their guest, she said, “Hello, Chan. How’s your ankle doing? Look who’s visiting.” She nodded in Sam’s direction.

  Chan glared at her. “Yes, I can see that.”

  She heard Sam chuckling beside her, and she knew he was amused at her shocked reaction.

  “I let him in,” Soriya said. “You promised to come and check up on Chan, didn’t you, Sam?”

  Sam nodded with a smile. “I did.”

  Chan wondered when that conversation had taken place. If it had really taken place, she was pretty sure she wasn’t involved.

  Soriya’s next statement confirmed her suspicion. “He asked me about you when your friends were fussing over you last night. Remember? In Sam’s very cool office? I even got to sit in his posh chair. Oh My God! The view is just so spectacular. So anyway, I told him our address and also gave him my phone number.”

  Chan said, “You’re pretty quick at giving away your phone number, aren’t you?”

  Soriya laughed. “It’s Sam Harrington.” She smiled gleefully. “Why not? Connection, my love. Connection.” On that note, she happily came and sat on the chair opposite them and placed a bundle of books on the coffee table.

  “There you go,” she stated.

  Chan stared at the bundle of paperbacks and blushed profusely. Sam picked up the first one and caressed the cover. Chan bit her lip and glanced at her sister.

  “What are they for?” she asked.

  “Sam said he has a daughter who loves to read,” Soriya explained. “So I’m lending her some of ours.”

  At that point, Dara joined them as well. She placed a mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of Chan, along with two tablets of aspirin.

  “They’re good children’s books,” she said, nudging the mug toward Chan to get her attention.

  Chan flicked her gaze to the hot chocolate and quickly grabbed it. The aspirin as well. She popped the pills into her mouth and sipped the hot chocolate.

  “Thanks,” Sam said. “Lilly will love these.”

  “Aww… so adorable,” Soriya said, smiling. “How old is she?”

  “She’ll be seven this Saturday,” Sam said.

  “Aww… so cute,” Soriya said, still smiling. “She’d love Chan.”

  Dara snorted. “All the kids love Chan.”

  Chan was just taking another sip of her hot chocolate when Soriya said, “Chan, do you know we’re invited to Lilly’s birthday party this Saturday?”

  Chan nearly spit the hot drink back out but managed to swallow it somehow. She wiped her mouth and just stared at her sister. “We are?”

  At Soriya’s nod, Chan went pale. Shit! She’d planned not to get any more involved with Sam and his family, and now what? She and her sisters were invited to their house for a birthday party?

  Not good.

  “You don’t want to come?” Sam asked, watching her with interest.

  God, this man is blunt, Chan thought and blushed profusely.

  “No, that’s not it. It’s just that I might be busy that day.” Of course, she was just making excuses.

  Soriya said loudly, “Oh, that’s right! Your date!”

  “Huh?” Chan stared at her sister, wondering what she was on about now.

  “With Jeremy. Isn’t it today? But your ankle…”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve already phoned him. It’s canceled. But he insisted on coming over tonight anyway. The date for dinner has changed, though.”

  “Ahh… So now it’s next Saturday.” Soriya nodded, understanding what her sister meant. “He still insisted on coming over tonight? Man, he must really worry about you and want to make sure you’re okay. Dara’s cooking by the way. He could help her if he wants to stay for dinner.”

  Chan didn’t offer to explain about the rearrangement of her next date with Jeremy. She kept her mouth shut. After all, it was better they got the wrong idea and not make her go to the party. Because then she’d surely be able to cut ties with the man sitting beside her, the man who was watching her intensely.

  Honestly, couldn’t he look at something else? Her sisters, for example, because they were talking to him, and maybe even her children’s books, the ones she had written under the pen name Anna Chan. Of course, she’d been very surprised when Soriya brought them out and offered to lend them to him. She couldn’t believe he was touching her books, her creations, and his daughter would be reading them.

  “How’s your ankle doing, Chan?” the man she was thinking about asked, making her jump in surprise.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 25