Tailored for Trouble

  No. No way. She was done putting herself out there.

  He took her hand. “Please?” he asked nicely.

  Taylor’s resolve instantly began melting away. “Give me one good reason, Bennett?”

  “Because I’m asking.”

  It was true; he hadn’t demanded like he usually did. And yes, that made her a little warm and gooey inside. “Are you sure Brigitte would approve?”

  He smiled. “You really are jealous.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. You are. I can see it on your face.”

  “I am not jealous.” Okay, she was a little. A lot. But more importantly she was…“I am disappointed, Bennett.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Because I don’t meet your standards?”

  She pulled her hand away. “If you came here to pick another fight, you’re wasting your time. I said everything I needed to say.” She huffed, turned, and started walking away.

  “Wait. I’m sorry, Taylor. I just want to talk!”

  Unsure of where she was heading, Taylor weaved between the bustling crowd of passengers toting their roller bags and pushing strollers.

  “You should know that I brought Brigitte because Chip was going to be there. I needed to keep him occupied while I worked on Mary.”

  Taylor couldn’t believe her ears. She swiveled and stormed back to him. “You’ll do anything to win, won’t you?”

  “It’s called business, Taylor. And there is no shame in fighting for what you want in this life.”

  “There should be shame if you have to use or deceive or—”

  “It’s called persuasion. And when you’re trying to get someone to do something they’re against, sometimes you can’t just throw money at them.”

  “Oh. Now I get it. That’s what you did with me back in Japan. Money won’t work, so I’ll just kiss her! And show her my giant boner!”

  I can’t believe I just said that.

  Bennett cocked a brow, but then an obvious curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Why are you so distrusting, Taylor? Is it because I’m wealthy? Or the boss? Why is it that when you see men in power, you automatically assume they don’t care or only wish to exploit the people around them?”

  She tipped her head. “I think you’re the one with the trust issues, Bennett. But no, I don’t think that about you.”

  “Don’t you? Isn’t that the reason you went for my jugular the day we met? Isn’t that the reason you started your company?”

  She was about to protest, but then snapped her mouth shut. He’d hit a nerve, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.

  “You might be right,” she admitted, “and maybe it’s because I grew up being the only female in a house full of big bossy men and had to constantly fight not to get trampled on—but don’t pretend those CEOs don’t exist. Just look at your golf buddies. You all ruined my reputation and never gave it a second thought.”

  “You’re right, Taylor. It was wrong. And I said I was sorry. Which is why I meant what I said about setting the record straight for you. But you don’t do yourself any favors going out with guys like Chip.”

  “I didn’t go out with him—he…” Taylor blew out a breath. “Never mind.”

  “You did it to make me jealous.”

  Again, she was about to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance—

  “Well, it worked,” he said. “And that dress…” He looked her over. “I didn’t like him seeing you in it. Or anyone, for that matter. Even right now I’m having a hard time not getting angry at the stream of men walking by and ogling your body.”

  He was jealous?

  Bennett stepped in a bit closer, and she felt the heat of his body. He slowly moved his hand to her face and stared deeply into her eyes. “I kissed you in Tokyo because I thought of you leaving, and then I panicked. Because no one has ever looked at me like you do, like they truly get me, the real me.”

  Taylor’s heart was thumping away like an unevenly loaded washing machine. She thought she might actually fall over.

  He continued, “And I sent you home because every time you look at me, I want more. More of you, more of those lips, more of your sassy little mouth. And it scares the hell out of me.”

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Did he really just say that? Really. Because I don’t think I can believe it. I really, really don’t.

  “Because you think I’m after your money?” she asked hesitantly, her body going numb with the overload of emotions she felt.

  “No.” He dipped his head, holding his mouth an inch from hers. “Because I know you’re not.” He leaned down and kissed her. Not soft. Not hard. Just enough pressure to let her know it was an invitation for more.

  He slowly pulled away. “I’m not going to try to talk you into anything, because I don’t want you to think I’m manipulating or using you, but if you really want to see what’s underneath this suit, then there’ll be a ticket to Bali at the Air France counter. However, Ms. Reed, you should be warned: I am a greedy man—but it’s not for money.” His eyes slowly moved to her lips, down her neck, to her breasts, and up again. “Your flight leaves in two hours. Enough time for you to think long and hard about this next step.”

  “Long? Hard?” She gulped.

  He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowded terminal.

  Fuck, he’s hot.

  —

  Taylor took the appropriate amount of time, standing in the terminal, trying not to fall over in her wobbly red hooker heels, thinking about his offer. Yep. Two. Uh-huh. It took her all of two whole seconds to decide she’d be getting on that damned commercial flight to Bali. But it wasn’t for the reason anyone might think: Sex with Bennett Wade. Okay, that was part of the reason. Her body didn’t just ache for the man, it felt a raging, searing, gnawing heat that started at the tips of her toes, scorched its way right between her legs, torpedoed through her stomach, speared her heart, and ended somewhere in her brain where it latched onto every thought she had.

  However, and a big, big however at that, the biggest reason she wanted to go was because she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t. Her heart wanted this badly. And if she didn’t listen to that part of herself, she’d spend the rest of her life wondering if she was meant to love this hot mess of a man and if he was meant to love her back.

  Oh boy. She pushed her hands to her abdomen, feeling like she was on that roller coaster again. Danger mixed with euphoric exhilaration. But with a porn element to it.

  Okay. You know, know, know you’re going. But how would she, a very inexperienced woman, handle a fuck-stallion like Bennett Wade? She could never meet his worldly expectations.

  She glanced at her watch. It was just after ten at night, which meant one-ish in the afternoon California time. Sarah would be at work, finishing up her lunch hour.

  Taylor found a quiet corner near the security checkpoint and called.

  “Taylor! Hey, honey. How’s the trip going with that client?” Taylor hadn’t told Sarah or Holly who her client was—she had figured it didn’t really matter at the time and that they’d chew her out for agreeing to work with Bennett (aka a-hole who’d gotten her fired).

  “Umm…it’s not good,” Taylor confessed.

  “Oh no. What happened?”

  “I think I’m falling in love.”

  Taylor heard Sarah spit something out. Coffee? “What? How the hell did that happen? You’ve only been gone for what, a week?”

  “Four or five days. Depending on the time zone?”

  “Are you sure it’s not a hard case of lust?” Sarah asked. “You haven’t gotten laid in forever.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure.” Thanks awfully for pointing that out, though.

  “So, who is he?”

  “My client,” Taylor replied.

  “One of those asshole billionaire guys? The ones you said you’d never ever date because you don’t date clients?”

  “Yes.”

  Again, Taylor heard spitting on the other end of the phone. Sarah must’ve been
bathing her entire office in coffee. “No. Taylor, please tell me you have better taste than that.”

  “I’m afraid not,” she said dejectedly.

  “This is bad.”

  “Would it sound better if I told you that he’s not entirely an asshole?” Taylor said.

  “Not entirely an asshole implies he’s still an asshole.”

  True. “What I need to know, Sarah, is…I don’t know what to do. He’s invited me to Bali, and I know I’m going to go but—”

  “So why are you calling me? Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

  “I’m afraid,” Taylor replied.

  “Why? Is he into kink? Just make sure you agree on a safe word.”

  “What? No. I mean—he might be into that, but I didn’t get that vibe. I meant I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle him.”

  “In what way? Is he really hung?”

  Yes. Absolutely, but…“Can you get your mind out of the gutter? I’m trying to say he’s intense, Sarah. Really fucking intense. And he’s also damned sweet. But I can tell he’s damaged. And I’m not sure how bad that damage is.”

  “Intense, sweet, and damaged. Hmmm…sounds fuckably hot,” Sarah said.

  “He’s that, too.”

  “I’m still not seeing the problem,” Sarah said. “You’re a grown woman. And I’ve never known you to be reckless—a little crazy and hotheaded sometimes, but never reckless. If you like the guy, then go for it. Just keep an open mind and see where it goes.”

  “Honestly, I guess…I’m afraid he won’t ever love me back.”

  “Awww, sweetie. You’re wonderful. And smart. And beautiful. What’s not to love?”

  “We’re talking Bennett Wade, here. He’s not easy to please, and then there’s the fact that women throw themselves at him—gorgeous women—like twelves on a scale of one to te—”

  “Stop the bus. Taylor, did you just say your asshole billionaire is Bennett Wade?”

  “Yes?”

  “And you’ve been flying all over the globe in his private jet, looking at him, sharing the same air, hearing his voice, smelling him, maybe even touching him?”

  “Yeah?” Where was she going with this?

  “And you haven’t fucked his brains out yet?”

  Huh? “No!”

  “Hold the hell on.” The line went silent for a very, very long moment and then Sarah came back on. “Taylor, you still there?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Holly, you there, too?” said Sarah.

  “I’m here,” Holly’s sweet voice piped in. Taylor groaned.

  “Holly,” Sarah said, “Taylor is going to Bali, and you’ll never guess who she’s going to fuck.”

  “Saraaah…” Taylor warned.

  Before Holly could respond, Sarah spilled the beans. “Bennett Wade. Can you believe that?”

  Holly squealed. “And you called Sarah first? WTF, Taylor. I’ll forgive you, but only because I want details. Lots of details.”

  “Guys,” Taylor said, trying to rein them back in, “I thought you hated the guy? Remember, he’s the one who degraded my ex-boss?”

  “Oh, we were only trying to be supportive when you told us, Tay,” said Holly. “Your boss sounded like a complete bitch. We were kind of happy about all that.”

  They were?

  Holly continued, “Then there’s the fact that Bennett Wade is a fucking sex god. Sex. God.”

  Seriously? This is their response? “Whatever,” Taylor said. “I called because I really need—”

  “Taylor,” Holly interrupted, “you tap that cock hard. You hear me. Hard. And let him stick it anywhere he wants. Make us proud!”

  Taylor pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the caller ID, wondering if her two friends were on something. Sarah was an uber-conservative, uptight, by the book goodie-goodie when it came to sex, and Holly was a plain, sweet-as-can-be girl next door who worked as an appraiser for a major auction house based out of L.A., meaning she was very big on taking her time and evaluating things before acting.

  “Oh. Tay!” Holly added. “Make sure you measure it and tell us if he hangs to the right or the left.”

  “I bet he’s uncut,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “He looks like the type who’d be all raw and natural with a big dick.”

  “But you know he man-scapes, down there,” Holly said. “Bennett Wade does not go native with that bush. No way.”

  Eck. What in the world? “Did I just call a male-genital-enthusiast chat line?” Taylor objected.

  “Yes,” Holly said, “and you will do it in every position known to humankind. Take notes—pictures, too, if he allows it—you have morals, obviously—but don’t have too many—and then you will share every detail with us. You got it, Taylor? That’s an order.”

  Taylor’s two friends started busting up, snorting uncontrollably.

  Taylor sighed. “I can’t believe you two. I gotta go.”

  “What?” Sarah said defensively, trying to catch her breath from laughing so hard. “That man has been number one on my fantasy fuck list for five years. Five.”

  Wow. “Uh. Okay. I really am hanging up now.” Hadn’t she just told Sarah that she was in love with Bennett? This conversation was so, so wrong. Bennett wasn’t some piece of man-meat. This must be why he doesn’t trust women.

  “Notes, Taylor! You hear me! Tell your old furry southern girl to take notes, too! We want to know the location of every freckle—”

  Taylor ended the call feeling like she’d had the sanctity of her sanity violated by two horny women parading as her sweet, sensible, intelligent best friends.

  “Insensitive jerks,” she grumbled to herself.

  She decided to call Jack and let him know she was still in Paris, and that he shouldn’t expect her.

  When Jack picked up, she immediately knew he was cruising in his BMW with the top down.

  “Taylor. Where is that fuck?”

  “Excuse me?” Taylor said.

  “I’m going to break his fucking nose,” he yelled.

  “Who?”

  “That womanizing bastard, Wade. He slept with you and then fired you, didn’t he?”

  “No!” she said. “What makes you think that?”

  “Just because I’m a man and surgeon doesn’t mean I don’t have an app to keep up with celebrity news, Tay. Or that I wouldn’t beat the crap out of some rich douche bag who uses my sister. Especially after he almost got you killed flying his piece of shit little plane. Marcus and Rob are in on it, too.”

  Who is this person? Jack was talking like a street thug. They must’ve put something in the California water while she’d been gone.

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Taylor said.

  “Maybe you should try being more discreet in public. Really, Taylor. You practically let the man have sex with you on a sidewalk.”

  “Oh no. No no no no. You mean someone filmed us in Tokyo?”

  “Were you having almost-sex in another city with another billionaire on video?” Jack roared.

  Taylor felt herself turning as red as her dress. “Oh geez. We were just kissing—maybe a little passionately, but that was all that happened.”

  “Then why did he fire you? He did fire you, yes? That’s why you’re stranded in Paris, isn’t it?” he accused.

  “Yes. I mean—no. It’s a long story. But I haven’t slept with him.” She planned to, but that was irrelevant.

  “Ah. So that is what happened! You refused him, so the scumbag dumped you in Paris without any way to get home. By the way, Dad wants to say hi…”

  “Hi, honey,” she heard her father’s voice.

  Her dad was in the car. Oh the shame…

  Her father added, “Tell that bastard I know where he lives, and he better watch his back. The Reed men are coming for him.”

  “Dad. Jack. Bennett did not use me for sex and dump me in Paris. Or dump me because I wouldn’t sleep with him. Okay? It was a misunderstanding, some of it my fault
.”

  “You don’t need to be ashamed, Taylor,” her dad said. “We won’t love you any less because you got caught up in one of those Fifty Spades fantasies you women are into.”

  Has the whole world lost its mind? “It’s Fifty Shades, Dad. Shades. And I’m not into—oh, never mind. I’m calling to let you know I’ll be home in a few days. I’m heading to Bali.”

  “Are you going with that prick?” Jack seethed. “Did he threaten you? Pull a Robert Redford on you and offer you a million dollars?”

  “No. Ewww. I gotta go. You two have a great day.”

  “Tell him he can’t run forever, Taylor!” she heard her father’s booming voice yell right before she disconnected the call.

  Great. My best friends want to build a sex shrine to Bennett’s penis and the men in my family want to chop it off.

  —

  By the time Taylor landed in Bali, it was exactly one day and one hour later—eighteen-hour flight, through Singapore, and a six-hour time difference. Not that she’d ever gotten on Paris time or Tokyo time (she was basically just on Bennett time), but her internal clock felt like one of those crazy windup toy mice for cats that zoom around in dizzy little circles.

  The first thing she did after deplaning was give herself a quick sponge bath in the bathroom, using some of the items from the complimentary business-class toiletries bag. She had felt a little guilty that Bennett purchased such an expensive flight for her until she realized the seats in business-class lay down flat and how badly she needed sleep. Especially, if she was going to be in good shape for sex with a man like him. Then again, he’d been driving himself so hard that he’d been passing out from exhaustion on a regular basis; maybe she stood half a chance of impressing him.

  Not in these clothes, she thought, checking herself out in the mirror. She’d put back on her sweats and T-shirt from earlier, which now looked exceptionally rumpled and sloppy. She’d written off her suitcase entirely as it had been tagged for her flight to San Francisco.

  She splashed some water on her face, dried it with a paper towel, and then put her hair up into a high ponytail.

  She left the boarding gate area, carrying only a purse and her laptop case. The moment she passed the security checkpoint, she noted how the air smelled thick and dank. It reminded her of Hawaii or Florida.