Billionaire on the Loose

  Hell no. “Of course!”

  Geoff jogged up to her other side, all gangly limbs and excitement. “We’re totally going to down Six-Eleven tonight, aren’t we?”

  Taylor smiled. “I hope so. I’ve been working on my Dragon Rider all week. I reinforced all her gear.” She’d needed something to do while online and spending time with Sigmund.

  “Me, too. Tonight’s going to kick ass.”

  She hoped so.

  One of the guys held the door to the pub open and Taylor slipped inside—and almost dropped her laptop when she saw Loch sitting at the bar.

  He was impossible to miss—Loch was head and shoulders taller than the two guys who sat next to him, and he had all that gorgeous tawny hair. He gazed up at the soccer game playing on the television over the bar, and then glanced at the door, as if waiting for someone.

  And he smiled when he saw her.

  Taylor’s steps slowed. A mixture of excitement and dread pooled in her belly. Loch had come to see her?

  Oh, god. She hoped Sigmund didn’t hear about this.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as Loch got up from the bar and moved toward her.

  “I thought I’d come to the party.”

  She leaned over, looking for a backpack. “Where’s your computer?”

  “Oh, is it a computer party?”

  “What did you think a LAN party was?”

  “No idea, actually.” He shrugged and grinned at her, taking a sip from his beer. “But if you were here, I wanted to be here, too.”

  Warmth spread through her body at his sweet words. “It’s a computer party, you goof. Everyone brings their laptops and plays on a local network.”

  “Ah. Then can I watch you play?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she remembered last Saturday night. Man, that had been an awesome night. Everything in her screamed for a repeat. After all, how better to unwind than with a few intense orgasms?

  But she hesitated. “Loch, I don’t know. I wasn’t joking when I said my life was super complicated right now.”

  “And mine’s not,” he said with a grimace. “Actually, mine’s boring as shite. You’re the only interesting thing right now, so I thought I’d come hang out with you.”

  She bit her lip, glancing over at the guys. They were heading into the back room with their computer gear, and casting a few looks in her direction. If Loch hung out with her, someone would say something to Sigmund. Gamer geeks gossiped worse than anyone she knew.

  “I can’t, Loch. I’m sorry.”

  “Why not?” His brows drew together. “Is it me?”

  “No, not at all! You’re like, amazing, and magical, and I would climb you like Mount Everest right about now if my life weren’t so messed up.”

  His sexy mouth curled into a smile. “You do like the mountain euphemisms.”

  “That’s because you’re a damn mountain. A big, sexy, man-mountain.” She reached out to touch a bicep, and then forced herself to put her hand away. If she caressed even one of those muscles, she’d be lost. “I can’t.”

  “A man’s only going to ask so many times,” he murmured in a low voice, leaning in.

  “I know.” It felt like giving up Christmas, but she had to. Even now, she shouldn’t have been talking to him. Reluctant, she took a step backward and then gestured at the back room, where her friends were setting up. “I should go.”

  “Taylor,” he began, stepping forward.

  No, this was a bad idea. All of it. She turned on her ankle and rushed toward the back room, pushing past Geoff and a few others who’d stopped to get beer at the bar. The LAN party room was crowded, the tables squeezed together so they could fit everyone inside, and she moved sideways, dodging heavy furniture and sprawled legs to get to one of the back seats. Please don’t follow me, Loch. Please don’t.

  “Hey, Tay-Tay, check out what came in for you!”

  She looked over to see Gina standing up and pointing at the center of the pushed-together tables.

  In the middle of the room was an enormous bouquet of red and white flowers. Heart-shaped mini-balloons had been stuck in between the roses and an equally heart-shaped card protruded out of the center. She moved forward, stumbling over a chair that backed out, and plucked the card off the flowers.

  I’m sorry I’ve been so needy. Hope these make you smile. Your friend, Sigmund.

  Fuuuuuck.

  She stared in horror at the flowers. Those weren’t something you gave a buddy. Those were the flowers you gave a girlfriend after you’d fucked up. The arrangement was enormous, and expensive, and had been deliberately left for her, because Sigmund knew she would be here. And if she wasn’t, he’d have known that, too.

  Taylor felt trapped.

  She flung the card down and hurried away. Back of the room. She’d get back there, throw on her headphones, and hide.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loch’s big frame in the doorway. Shit. He’d see the flowers, or Gina would say something, and—

  She was so busy hurrying away that she wasn’t looking where she was going. Taylor’s feet got caught up on someone else’s leg and in the next moment, the table rushed up on her.

  Something hard smacked her head and then the world went dark.

  ***

  Loch twisted his hands in the waiting room, watching the clock. Down the hall, the busy emergency room hummed and babies cried. Someone complained and nurses rushed past. He shifted on the uncomfortable seat in the sterile white hallway, gaze fixed on the door that Taylor had disappeared through a short time ago. He’d never been so damn scared as when he’d seen her passed out, blood on her forehead.

  He was pretty sure he’d run all the way to the hospital with her in his arms. There might have been a taxi involved, but it was all a blur.

  The door swung open and a man emerged, clipboard in hand. He wrote down something and Loch got to his feet. The man looked up and put his pen in his white coat. “You the boyfriend?”

  Loch should have lied. Taylor would probably be upset with him, but he didn’t care. “I am.”

  “They said you carried her in. You need to be careful with head wounds. Should have called an ambulance. If she’d been concussed, you could have aggravated the situation.” He gave Loch a chiding look.

  Loch raked a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get her to a doctor.” The man’s words sunk in and he looked up. “So she’s not concussed?”

  “She took a hard smack on the head, but she’ll be fine in a few days. Six stitches at the hairline, a sprained ankle from where she fell, and a bruised rib from hitting something on the way down. Maybe a chair, if the place was as crowded as you said.” The doctor shifted on his feet and then gave Loch a stern look. “She said she lives alone but I want someone to watch her for the next few days, just in case her head wound is more serious than we think.”

  “Of course.” The man didn’t even have to ask. Loch was already planning on bringing Taylor to his hotel and pampering her for the next while. “I’ll stay with her constantly until she’s better.”

  “The young lady has quite a chart,” the doctor said, raising an eyebrow. “She’s a bit accident prone. Been in the emergency room several times in the last few years.”

  Loch rubbed his mouth. Poor Taylor. “She gets distracted.”

  “Try and keep her off her feet so she doesn’t re-injure herself, then?”

  Loch nodded. “Can I see her?”

  The doctor gestured at the door. “Someone will be by shortly to finish her paperwork and then she can go home. I’ll give her a prescription for some Tylenol-3, but other than that, just give it time and rest.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” He shook the man’s hand and then raced toward Taylor’s room.

  Inside the hospital room, there was a bed, a blue shower-curtai
n thing pulled off to one side, and some beeping equipment. He didn’t care about any of that. What he did care about was the small, fragile-looking woman lying on her back, her hair spread on the pillow, her eyes closed. There was a large bandage on her head and one of her feet stuck out from the blankets, wrapped in what looked like an inflated plastic boot.

  “Taylor?” He moved toward her bed, keeping his voice low so as not to bother her if she was sleeping.

  Her eyes flicked open and she looked over at him. “You’re still here, Thor?”

  “Still here.” He pulled a chair next to the side of the bed and took her hand in his. Her black T-shirt had DID YOU TRY TURNING IT OFF AND ON? In bold yellow lettering across the breasts, and his gaze slid there before moving back to her face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like an idiot?”

  “You tripped and fell. That’s all. Happens to everyone.”

  “Happens to me a lot,” she whispered ruefully, then winced. “My head is killing me.”

  “That’s because you tried to remove it from your body.” Her small hand was soft in his, and he stroked his fingers over the back of it, over and over again.

  She giggled, and then hissed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “That hurt.”

  “No laughing.”

  Taylor nodded, and then gave his hand a little shake. “You didn’t have to stay. I’m sure this isn’t the Saturday night you had planned.”

  “Of course I stayed.” All of her other friends had clutched at their computers, unsure what to do, and had given him grateful looks when he left with her. He suspected they’d probably just gone right back to playing their games. “The doctor says you need to have someone with you for the next few days to watch over you.”

  She made a face. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Even if you were, I’ve already decided that you’re going to come back with me to my hotel.”

  Her eyes squinted open. “What?”

  “I have your laptop here with me.” He patted the bag hanging from his side. “My hotel has extra robes and we’ll order room service. There’s also a jacuzzi tub and I’ll get you a massage tomorrow to help your aching muscles. In short, you’re staying with me for the next week.”

  She pulled her hand weakly from his. “Loch, really, you don’t—”

  “I know I don’t, but I’m going to. You’re my friend, Taylor, and friends look after one another.” Maybe she didn’t realize that because all of her so-called friends had gone right back to gaming even as he’d carried her into a taxi. “Unless you have someone else in the city you want to call on and stay with?”

  She thought for a moment. “My parents are in Colorado.”

  “Bit of a drive.”

  “A bit, yeah.” Her mouth twitched. “I could call Gretchen.”

  “You could, but she’s no doubt busy, and I, on the other hand, have nothing but free time.”

  Taylor slowly sat up in bed. “I’m going to feel like a huge burden if you take care of me. This is not how one-night stands work, Thor.”

  “You let me worry about that.”

  She nodded, and then touched her side, wincing. “I feel like crap.”

  “You look like crap, too, if it helps.” Her face was entirely too pale for his liking.

  Another giggle escaped her, followed by a wince. “Thanks for the flattery.”

  “You’re as cute as a button most times. You just look a little less sexy after you’ve tried to kill yourself on a bar chair.”

  “Mm, fair enough.” She hesitated, then gave him a sad look. “You don’t have to do this, Loch. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. We’re barely friends, and—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He leaned in and took her hand again. “I am bored senseless, Taylor. Please. Come and wreck my hotel room for me.”

  Her shy smile made him feel like the Norse god, after all.

  ***

  By the time they checked Taylor out of the hospital, paid her bill, and cabbed back to his hotel, it was late. Her eyes were closed and she had a pained expression on her face, so Loch carried her through the lobby and into the elevator. She was light in his arms, and though she initially protested, she was quiet by the time they got to his room. Her face was tucked against his shirt and as he walked into his room, he realized she was hurting. He crossed the suite into the bedroom and set her down gently in the bed. “Wait here,” he murmured. “I’ll get you a glass of water and your pills, and then I want you to sleep.”

  She nodded, her eyes tightly closed.

  He pulled the blankets over her, turned off the lights, and retrieved a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. The doctor hadn’t given her much of the medicine, stating that she wouldn’t need it after tonight. He shook out two pills and brought them into the room, then handed them to her. “Take this and go to sleep.”

  She swallowed the pills, drank the water, and laid back down on the pillows. He got up to leave and she spoke. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “This is going to sound weird,” she murmured in a sleepy voice. “But can you find my phone and send Sigmund a text message?”

  A weird, gnawing sort of jealousy crept through him. “Sigmund?”

  She gave a small sigh and burrowed into his bed, turning on her side. “He’s a guild-mate and I was supposed to be on tonight and I don’t want him freaking out.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks, Loch.”

  She was silent after that, and he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. He was exhausted. His suite was equipped with a full-sized couch, so he’d be fine sleeping there. Sleep, however, wasn’t on his mind just yet. He picked up Taylor’s bag and rifled through it, looking for her phone. She’d dropped it when she’d fallen, and he vaguely remembered shoving it into her pack.

  Sigmund, eh? And this after she assured him she didn’t have a boyfriend?

  He found the phone and swiped to unlock it. Several messages were on her screen.

  Sigmund: Heard you had to leave the LAN party early. You coming home for the raid?

  Sigmund: It’s past raid start-time. Where are you?

  Sigmund: You’re not pulling this shit again, are you?

  Sigmund: The raid needs you, Taylor. Where the hell are you?????

  What a prick. His jealousy vanished when he realized it was just one of her game mates trying to find her. Of course it was. Taylor was cute and utterly distractible and a little wacky, but she didn’t strike him as a liar. She spoke her mind too freely. Reminded him of her friend Gretchen, the woman whose wedding he was going to be in. No wonder they got along so well.

  He typed a message back.

  HaveANiceTay: This is Taylor’s friend. She hit her head and had to go to emergency. She’s fine now but sleeping.

  The reply fired back immediately.

  Sigmund: She’s all right?

  Sigmund: Should I play her toon?

  Sigmund: We need her DR for the raid. She’s one of the tanks.

  Fuck, like he knew what a toon was? Or a DR? Or a tank?

  HaveANiceTay: She’s asleep. Use your best judgment.

  Sigmund: K. Tell her we need her back for Tuesday’s raid for sure tho. And tell her I’ll be on tomorrow to chat.

  Loch gritted his jaw. Whoever this Sigmund was, he wasn’t worried about Taylor half as much as he was worried about their raid or DR or whatever it was. He got it, he really did—she said it was like a sports match, but online. If a player didn’t show up, the others had to scramble to cover the spot.

  But hell, couldn’t he have at least pretended a bit more worry for his friend? Asked how she was doing? Loch didn’t like it. He tossed the phone aside and then sat down on the couch, picking through the rest of her bag. She’d kept an extra shirt in here the other day, but
it seemed that tonight all she had was her laptop, some power cords, and a few protein bars nestled next to her keys. She’d need clothes, then, and he’d need extra blankets. He dialed down at the front desk.

  “Mr. delle Scogliere, sir, how can I assist you?”

  “Yes, I’m having a friend stay over for a few days. I need some additional things for my room. Another bathrobe, some extra towels, some bedding.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “And some shampoo and bath soaps. If you have bubble bath, that would be nice, too.” He pictured Taylor in the enormous tub surrounded by bubbles, the childish glee on her face and her gorgeous body sudsy. “Definitely bubbles.”

  “I’ll send someone out to get those things for you. Anything else?”

  He frowned, thinking about what she liked. “Cereal. With marshmallows.”

  “Cereal, sir?”

  “Yes. And some pajamas. Very soft pajamas.” She was going to spend all day in bed tomorrow if it was the last thing he did.

  “What size?” He heard a pen scratching busily on the other side of the phone.

  “Women’s medium, I think. Actually, bring several sizes just in case. I’ll pay for them all.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “And some movies. Some science-fiction movies. The Mr. Who ones.”

  “Doctor Who, sir?”

  “Yes, those.”

  “I believe that’s a TV show,” the woman corrected gently. “And I’m sure you can find some of it on-demand if you check your television.”

  “Oh, of course. Thank you.”

  “If you can think of anything else, let me know, sir.”

  “Will do.” He hung up, rubbing his jaw and thinking. After a moment, he called back down to the front desk again. “Do you know of a game called MMOG?”

  “Um. Do you mean an MMORPG?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “That’s a type of game, Mr. delle Scogliere. My son plays several. That’s the only reason I know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was amused. “Was there one in particular you were interested in?”