Cade's Property 2: Alpha Billionaire Romance Read online

  Cade’s Property

  Book 2

  Emery Cross

  Cade’s Property 2

  Copyright© 2015 by Emery Cross

  Cover Design by: Avanti Graphics

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Other books in the series:

  Cade’s Property 1 (Available)

  Cade’s Property 2 (Available)

  Cade’s Property 3 (Available)

  Cade’s Propery 4 (Available)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  CHAPTER ONE

  Remi

  They’d made a sweep of the low-rent motel as well. Victor’s semi-precious and precious gems filled the hard metal benches of the holding cell.

  Hannah had been inconsolable until several of the other girls cast murderous glares her direction. She’d choked back her noisy sobs and buried her face in her hands.

  The person in charge of collecting our personal possessions had looked suspiciously from me to Rafferty’s valuable watch. I would probably be facing a theft charge to top it off. I stared down at the over-sized flip flops they’d given me to wear. It had been a long time since I’d felt so lost and lonely.

  Very few of us had people on the outside who gave enough of a damn to bail us out. Victor had been the makeshift, albeit sleazy, patriarch of our sad little group, and he was in the same deep shit as the rest of us.

  While I’d been hauled into the juvenile facility a few times in my teens for loitering, an offense that was easy to commit when a person had no permanent home, I’d been lucky during my adult years. Having a record was going to make finding a job next to impossible.

  Surely, they would confiscate or at least freeze Victor’s assets. Would Rafferty Cade get caught up in all this? Or had he been the one to call the cops? He’d certainly been angry enough. But he hadn’t been the only male to storm out of the theater last night because his masculine ego had been bruised. I leaned back against the cold wall of the cell and closed my eyes to stop from thinking.

  But the panicked thoughts kept coming, so I tried focusing on my breathing, hoping to slow my racing heart.

  I startled as an officious voice called my name. I sat up straight. “Yes?”

  “You’re being released,” the cop spoke to me through the bars.

  Hannah stared at me wide-eyed. I shrugged in confusion. “Maybe you’ll be next,” I whispered as I stood from the bench. It seemed that a hundred imaginary daggers were being hurled at my back as I crossed the floor. The officer opened the door, and Sarah, a girl who I’d never gotten along with, called out. “What about the rest of us? We’re all in here for the same thing.”

  The officer ignored her question, and I sidled past him out of the cell. Without one word of explanation, the officer led me down the hall. I was ushered into an office, where a woman dressed in a crisply tailored business suit was signing some paperwork. She glanced up from behind a pair of red rimmed glasses. “Miss Shay?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She turned her small, jutting chin toward the officer behind the desk. “Are we through here?” she asked sharply.

  “All clear, counselor.” His tone was snide.

  The woman didn’t seem the least bit ruffled by the officer’s attitude. Who had hired her I wondered? She was too expensively dressed to be a public defender. Why would I be receiving preferential treatment? It had to be J.D. who’d come to my rescue. As a lawyer, he might have heard of the raid through the grapevine. But he didn’t practice criminal law, I reminded myself.

  I decided to worry about whom to thank once I was free. My bits of change, along with Rafferty’s watch, were returned to me. I hurried to keep up with the lawyer’s brisk gait as she strode through the echoing hallways.

  We stepped out into an autumn day that was as warm as summer.

  “Do I know you?” I asked.

  Her lenses had darkened in the bright sunlight. She glanced down at the watch in my hands, her lips pursing in a sour expression. “No, you don’t. And for my client’s sake, I hope we don’t cross paths again.” As she spoke, a sleek black sedan pulled up in front of the station steps. “There is your ride,” she said curtly. She turned on her expensive heels and marched away.

  The driver, a tall, thin man with a severe buzz cut stepped out of the car and opened the back door.

  Hesitantly, I walked down the steps, the links from the watch biting into the palm of my hand.

  Rafferty Cade stepped out of the car, looking even bigger than I remembered. He was sporting black shades. His crisp business suit had been replaced by faded jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and scuffed boots. His black hair had a sexy, ruffled, just rolled out of bed look. He hadn’t shaved, and dark stubble defined his strong jaw line.

  I approached cautiously and handed him the watch.

  “You don’t think I brought my lawyer down here to free my watch from jail?”

  “How did you know I was here?” I couldn’t keep the suspicion out of my voice.

  “You think I had something to do with this?” Sunlight winked off his glasses. “Get in the car. I’m not having this conversation here.”

  I didn’t budge.

  He heaved a sigh. “Brian woke me with a call at three in the morning.”

  I was relieved Brian had eluded the cops and angry with him, all at the same time. “And how did Brian happen to have your number?”

  “I gave it to him last night. After your childish tantrum.” His nostrils flared.

  I thought of the phone at the bottom of the bucket.

  “To keep tabs on me.”

  “Something like that.”

  I felt suddenly so tired. Fear had sapped me of all my energy. “Well, thank you, Mr. Cade, for getting me out.” My prison-issued flip-flops made me feel totally pathetic as I started to walk away. I could feel his anger at my back at my casual dismissal of him. No man made a generous gesture like he had without compensation in mind. I hugged myself against a chill, though the sun beat down. So this was what bone-weary felt like? If only I could find a park nearby with a bench. Someplace where I could curl up and sleep forever.

  “Brian told me you intended to quit.”

  “Believe me, I’m done,” I said over my shoulder.

  “He also told me about your sister.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. I swung around to face him.

  “Now I’ve got your attention.” His jaw flexed. “Babe, get in the goddamn car.”

  Adrenaline had kicked in again, making me jittery. My legs went all wobbly. I slipped off the flip-flops so I wouldn’t trip on my face walking to the car. I slid onto the leather seat and rubbed my clammy hands on my jeans.

  He climbed in next to me, shut the door, and hit a button. There was a soft whir as the smoky glass divider closed us off from the driver. The car pulled away from the station steps.

  I f
idgeted nervously with the hem of my t-shirt. “What about my sister?”

  “I know she tried to kill herself. That she’s been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. That she continues to exhibit suicidal tendencies.”

  “Shit, did you break into her medical records?”

  His lips tilted in a half-smile. “I’ve got a guy on the payroll who’s a wizard at background investigations. It was nothing for him to locate your aunt.”

  I gasped.

  “Relax. I told her I was a concerned friend of yours,” he said. “I can get your sister into that facility this week. I have someone arranging it now.”

  “Money truly does buy everything. That’s how you got the charges dropped,” I said, though I knew I wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d managed to orchestrate my release and get my sister pushed up to the top of a waiting list of an in-demand clinic, all before most people had tasted their first cup of coffee.

  “My lawyer, Ms. Shields, explained that you were in the club visiting a friend and that you had no idea it was a whorehouse.”

  “And they bought that?”

  He looked pointedly around. “You’re sitting in my limo, aren’t you?” He smiled and the lines around his mouth creased beneath the black stubble. “Of course, my money helped.”

  “Will your lawyer use the same excuse for you when they find your check for thirty grand?”

  “I didn’t leave a paper trail. Victor agreed to my terms. Cash installments.”

  He pushed a button, and a refrigerated drawer slid open from between the seats. He pulled out a chilled water bottle, which I readily accepted. “You’re probably hungry too.”

  I stared at him trying to figure out just what the hell was happening here.

  He reached into the drawer and pulled out an apple. Even though my stomach burned with hunger, I refused it.

  “I promise, it’s not poisoned.”

  I shook my head again, and he put the apple away. I glanced out through the tinted window at the traffic and the rundown office buildings lining the downtown street. The sedan seemed to be crawling through the city.

  Rafferty leaned back against the seat. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “This is the part where money also buys you your own personal whore,” I said bitterly.

  He tapped his thumb on the armrest in obvious irritation. I’d struck a nerve, but he didn’t deny it.

  He removed his sunglasses and hung them from the collar of his t-shirt. I’d forgotten how gorgeous his eyes were, the long black lashes, the starbursts of green around the pupils.

  “Why don’t you just pay me my portion of the thirty thousand I’ve already earned?”

  “I could do that. Or I could get your sister into the clinic’s comprehensive program.”

  The comprehensive program was the Cadillac of treatment plans. It ran for eight weeks and included a private room, twice-daily therapy sessions, and a tailored nutrition and exercise program. I’d never even contemplated getting Lexi into that elite program. “And what do you want in exchange?”

  “Your services for four weeks.”

  Despite all he was offering, I wasn’t in an obliging mood. “The eight week program in exchange for two weeks,” I said.

  His mouth thinned in obvious irritation, and he shifted in his seat to get a better look at me. “All right, but I want you willing, uninhibited, and completely focused on me.” I could feel his gaze boring into me. “And no part of your body barred to me.”

  “No threesomes.”

  “Completely focused on me,” he repeated.

  I worried my bottom lip with my teeth and stared sightlessly out at the city.

  “You have my promise that I will not harm you in any way.”

  “Physically, at least,” I said.

  I could sense his body stiffen next to me. I’d finally pushed one too many buttons. “Just say no and I’ll have Fitch drop you off wherever you like.”

  “And you end any negotiations with the clinic in Nevada?”

  “Yes. Don’t mistake me for a charitable man, sweetheart.”

  As if I could. I glanced at his hard, handsome profile. “Why?”

  He rubbed his jaw and I could hear the stubble rasp against his palm. “I’ve had some deals go sideways recently, and I need a diversion.”

  I’d wager he had diversions lining up and begging him for a fuck. “I meant, why me?”

  There was a faint smile on his face. “You came out on that stage and while surrounded by other beautiful girls, you stood out like a … like a diamond. Flawless.” He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “But I knew better. I’d seen the supremely fuckable little number arguing over the price of a sandwich.”

  I patted my chest miming a rapid heartbeat. “Be still my romantic heart.”

  “I don’t do romance.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which inched his sleeve up a notch. I could just make out the beginnings of a black ink tattoo. “What is your sexual history?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t it a bit late for that question?”

  “I’d prefer not wearing a condom three times a day if I don’t have to.”

  Three times a day? This guy had an appetite for more than making billions. “You interrogated me about this last night, and I know Victor showed you my clean bill of health.”

  It was clear by the obstinate set of his jaw that he wouldn’t be satisfied until I gave him a complete rundown of whom I’d been intimate with. “Victor’s diamond, Sara, died of an overdose, and he was looking to replace her. I was waitressing at his restaurant, and he recruited me. Sara had two customers who obviously had a thing for redheads ‘cause they transferred their loyalties to me. Until you, those were my only clients.”

  I made a gesture with my hand that said now-your-turn.

  “Monogamous for the last two years. And we used condoms for birth control. I’ll have my doctor fax over my blood work-up.”

  That revelation surprised me. I’d pegged him for a player.

  His hand flexed atop his thigh like a man ready to beat the pulp out of someone. “What about Victor?”

  Had he witnessed Victor’s perv move at the start of the auction? “Never!”

  “Who was the guy you were flirting with onstage?”

  He hadn’t missed a detail.

  “One of my regulars. He has more finesse than Fremont.”

  He scowled. He wanted all the details, but he clearly hated hearing them.

  I took a sip of water. “I’ve probably had fewer partners than most the debutantes you’ve dated.”

  He did not look amused. I realized it was a ridiculous comparison. The fact that I was getting paid for it made me part of a whole other species.

  The congestion of the city behind us now, we were winding our way through hillside streets shaded by huge trees. I’d imagined him as an urban dweller. Though being filthy rich, he probably had a couple of penthouses at his disposal too.

  I turned to find him watching me, his expression intense but unreadable. “I’ll bet you’re thinking you’d like to retract your offer,” I said.

  “The opposite. I was thinking I need more time.”

  “Two weeks. You agreed. And then I walk out with whatever dignity I have left.”

  His blue eyes flashed with irritation. “I said willing, so cut the sass.”

  His phone rang.

  “Max,” he answered.

  Max had to be speaking loudly, because Rafferty held the phone away from his ear. Though I strained to hear, I couldn’t make out the other end of the conversation.

  Rafferty raked his fingers through his hair. “Good thing you’re such a skinflint, or I’d be bailing your ass out of jail right now.”

  I pretended inte
rest in the passing scenery, but I kept my ears perked.

  “Are all the permits in place for demolition on that apartment complex?” He paused. “Of fucking course the one across the street from Lampton’s.”

  He stopped and listened for awhile, doing his impatient thumb tapping on the armrest.

  “Slimy bastard deserves nothing less.” Rafferty’s deep voice resonated with fury. “I’ll draw up some preliminaries and let Taylor take it from there.”

  He was arranging for revenge. He blamed the man they’d brought to the auction for the raid.

  He made a few more phone calls after that, but he kept his temper under control.

  I tucked myself into the corner and let my lids drift shut, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept reliving the clanging cell doors, the flickering fluorescent lighting, and the chill of the cement walls.

  The car came to a stop and I opened my eyes. An imposing wrought iron gate swung open and the car continued up a winding private drive. I swallowed a cry of surprise as we approached the house. I’d expected a luxury home, but this was a mega-mansion with multiple garages, elaborate landscaping, and a courtyard with fountains.

  ***

  Once inside, I gave the interior only a cursory look. Lots of glass, wood, and stone. I was desperate to wash the taint of the jail off me. “I’d like to shower.”

  I trudged after him up the wide staircase. The bedroom seemed to take up half of the second-floor. It had one of those open floor plans I’d only seen in magazines. The shower was almost sitting in the middle of the room. You could walk straight from the bed and into the shower without opening a single door. The three walls of glass surrounding the shower were crystal clear. Privacy was impossible.

  There was a set of controls outside the shower. Rafferty turned the water on for me. After he pointed to the stack of towels in a nearby tower, I expected him to leave. Instead, he asked me what sizes I wore, then speed dialed someone on his cell. He relayed the details of my measurements to the person on the other end. It sounded as if he was ordering me a money-is-no-object wardrobe.