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  FRAGILE

  A Dark Billionaire Romance

  Adrian Stark

  Jacob Allen

  FRAGILE

  I really needed the money.

  And with an ex I’d rather forget about stalking me across New York,

  six months on a billionaire’s cruise is the perfect place to get my life back on track.

  Then I met my boss.

  Andrew Wright was hot, powerful and interested.

  There was something about him that made me feel safe,

  but he was hiding something from me, something bigger than a crazy ex.

  He’s got secrets, but so do I.

  Anything can happen when you’re out at sea,

  cruising around all of the most romantic places in Europe,

  but my livelihood depends on getting paid in six months, or I lose my family home.

  I can’t afford to fool around with my boss

  No matter how good he is in bed.

  Could there be more than money at stake here?

  Contents

  1. A Letter

  2. Lay Low

  3. London

  4. Prince In A Business Suit

  5. The Meeting

  6. Do You Want to Sue?

  7. Moonlight On The Silver Cloud

  8. Bathtime

  9. A Late Night Rendezvous

  10. There’s a Storm Coming

  Authors Note

  © Copyright 2019 - All rights reserved.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  1

  A Letter

  Everything looked so much smaller in the daylight. I’d been up all night, running back and forth, trying to fit a lifetime into a few boxes and stacking them like Tetris pieces by the door. By the time I could actually start to see any sort of progress, the sun was already creeping through the curtainless window, mocking how little time was left before I had to be out of here for good.

  Now that everything was packed away neatly, I could see how much there really was. Most of it was Mom’s, old clothes and books Dad couldn’t bear to throw out. We’d moved the whole lot in with me when he went into hospital — it wasn’t like we could keep any of it at theirs — not anymore.

  Charlie was sitting at the breakfast bar, eating toast over her outstretched hand since we’d already packed the plates. She was as exhausted as I was from packing all night; some crumbs were stuck to the corners of her mouth, and even more spilled out across the work surface.

  “What do you wanna do with your dad’s stuff?” Her tone was gentle and understanding, but the words still made me flinch. I hadn’t let myself think about my dad’s belongings. “I know you don’t want to talk about it yet, but we need to get to it at some point.” Most of Dad’s stuff was still in my room, hidden on top of the closet or under the bed, completely ignored as I packed up everything around them — like I could pretend he was still here, that he’d come back for them. I knew I was cutting it close by leaving them for so long, but something in my chest always ached when I got up to do it.

  Charlie reached forward to sweep the crumbs onto the floor and then took my hand in hers. “You want me to pack it up for you? I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  I nodded slightly, ever thankful for her ability to know exactly what I needed.

  “Okay.” She beams and reaches back for her other slice of toast. “So, have you decided yet?” Charlie laughed as I slumped down into my chair. “I think you should go for it! What have you got to lose here?”

  “If I go off to Europe for six months and I don’t get paid, and then I come back here with nowhere to live and no job to support me?”

  “Okay, well, it sounds terrible if you put it like that…” There was a smile in her voice and I buried my head in my hands with a groan, the letter still in front of me unfolded on the table.

  There was no return address or postage stamp, and it wasn’t signed. The handwriting was elegant and cursive, curling across the paper in delicate swirls. I read the words again, trying to find any additional information:

  * * *

  Miss Miller,

  * * *

  I wish to offer you employment working on a six-month private cruise around Europe; please find enclosed your plane ticket to our port in London on the 15th.

  We look forward to hearing from you.

  * * *

  There was indeed a plane ticket, for first class no less. I wasn’t sure what to think about the whole thing. It all seemed too good to be true, too convenient.

  It wasn’t like I couldn’t do the job. Years of traveling, experiencing what the world had to offer, made me good at what I do. Six months of organizing trips, events, and conferences for some big shot billionaire on vacation was what I was good at and what I did for a living, at least until recently.

  I was so lucky to have Charlie. She’d been paying most of the rent for the past few months, coming home from long hours in retail hell — only to sit at the table with me going through job ads that were still scattered over every surface in the apartment and overflowing from the trash can outside.

  “Josie, this is gonna be nothing but good for you! It’s literally what you’ve been doing every day for the past three years, and it’s six whole months of work with nothing to worry about except what, seasickness? You’ll be back before they take the house.”

  And I’ll be far far away from Michael… I thought guiltily. Charlie was right. A job is a job, and there was no way Michael would take his stalker show on tour. I’d have time to think, come up with a plan, and hopefully I’ll have a home to come back to at the end of it.

  I looked around at the stacks of boxes and smiled.

  “Guess we’ll have to unpack six months worth of shit from all this then.”

  2

  Lay Low

  I threw the newspaper down onto the table, sending it skidding across the glass table top. The headline remained readable even from far away, and I took a sip of coffee in an attempt to calm down.

  I should have known MaryAnn Howell was unable to keep her mouth shut. It didn’t take long after meeting her for me to realize that there wasn’t anything we had in common outside of the fact that our dads knew each other. She was pretty, small, and petite with shiny auburn hair and sweet green eyes, but she had annoyed me with every word that came out of her mouth. She didn’t know fuck about anything and then went on and on about it anyway. She was too young, too inexperienced with the world.

  I have done everything the way Dad had wanted me to all my life. Everything was always decided for me: what I wear, how I speak, who I spend my time with, but making myself miserable by marrying someone for the good of the company is just too damn far. Breaking it off with MaryAnn was the right thing for me, and I would not apologize for that.

  My phone was constantly buzzing on the table next to me, missed calls and notifications that I tried to ignore as I finished my now lukewarm coffee. The sunlight was streaming in through the bay windows, throwing light around the kitchen, and glinting off polished steel and pristine glass. Usually, the clean neutral lines comforted me, every morning felt like a fresh start. No distractions, nothing unnecessary. Today it just felt lonely. Sighing in resignation, I picked up the phone and started going through the notifications one by one. Most were social media blogs and gossip columns. There was little I could do to stop those. There were several emai
ls from many journalists asking for interviews. I ignored those too, instead of forwarding them to the office for someone else to go through. I felt my gut twist in trepidation. Dad was not going to like this.

  As if he could hear me, Dad’s number flashed on the screen. I picked up the phone immediately. Ignoring him would only make it worse.

  “Dad —”

  “What were you thinking?” His voice sounded so calm, and even that I flinched away from the phone. I knew he was going to react like this, but hearing the disappointment in his tone still made me feel like a scolded child. “It’s everywhere Andrew. Robert might not want anything to do with us after this.”

  “Mr. Howell is a long time partner in the company who’s always supported my decisions. I have serious doubts that he would turn against me for something like this.” I knew he was right in some regards, but Robert Howell had never treated me as anything other than the rightful head of the company — it was his trust and loyalty that had solidified the transition when Dad had retired.

  “You ran out of your engagement party, Andrew. You made a fool out of his daughter, his family. Not to mention me and the company.” I gritted my teeth wanting to scream. I know what I’m doing. Seven years I’ve been running things, seven years and he still doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions.

  “You will call your sister, and I will take care of things here. You will stay well out of the way until I get this sorted out. I will not see everything I have built come to ruin because my only son thinks he can do whatever he wants.” The line went dead, and I was left glaring at the table in front of me. Great. Just great. I was being grounded like a goddamn child.

  At the very least, there were plenty of people I could visit in Europe, clients I had already been looking to meet up with. It would be a lot to organize in such a short amount of time, but I had Chrissie. She always was good at this sort of thing.

  3

  London

  Whoever sent that anonymous letter was not messing around. It should be worrying, traveling to a different country with no idea who I was going to meet, but mostly I felt relieved. There was nothing to worry about except getting myself through the airport lines and into the plane without getting lost.

  First class was a wonderfully different experience from the sticky, cramped traveling I was used to. For the first time in a very long time I could relax, watch the clouds drift lazily by on the soft pink horizon, and not have to worry about how much time I was wasting. Traveling had been a thing that my whole family did every year. Trips to Canada, L.A., and once for my 6th birthday we went to Disney World in Florida.

  Everything was coming together, and it felt wonderful. It still felt a little weird traveling on my own. Work had always involved a lot of flying, but I took Dad with me as often as I could, or Charlie when she could get the time off. Sitting all on my own in first class, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad that they couldn’t share the experience. I found myself pointing out some of the tiny figures below after we took off and starting my drinks order with Dad’s usual beer before catching myself. Eventually, I was able to relax for the rest of the flight.

  London City Airport was a crowded blur of businessmen interwoven with vacationing families and long lines for everything. Outside, the air was fresh and crisp, and I drew the collar of my coat tighter around my shoulders as I waited for the chauffeur to load my tiny battered blue suitcase into the trunk of a stunning black estate car.

  His name was Sidney, and he was exactly what I had been expecting: tall and slim with salt and pepper hair and a mustache that twitched when he spoke. He wore a deep black overcoat and black slacks. I half expected him to have one of those tall top hats you only wore to funerals.

  He wouldn't let me sit beside him. Instead, I was ushered gently onto the sleek leather seats in the back of the car. They were cold and stiff, and I shivered involuntarily, leaning forward as Sidney slid into the driver's seat so I could feel less like a Duchess on her way to court.

  “Where are we going?” My voice was a little hoarse from my nap on the plane, and I cleared my throat with a small laugh.

  “The Rough Luxe, about forty minutes away in King’s Cross.” His voice was gruff but jovial. “You'll have a room there until Friday, and I'll drive you to the docks.” He smiled and winked at me.

  “Perfect. I'm so exhausted. I could use a nap.” Sidney looked at me in the rearview mirror, eyes twinkling in amusement.

  “Long flight?” There was a teasing tone to his voice that I didn't expect from his stoic persona.

  “Seven hours.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  * * *

  “I was in first class, though.”

  “Oh. Then what are you complaining about!” He sounded exactly like Charlie when she teased me. I laughed, relaxing back into the leather.

  London was a kaleidoscope of activity that easily matched New York, people bustling by in flashes of red coats and blue umbrellas. A light drizzle was misting the windows, creating a gentle blur to the outside world.

  “Does it rain a lot back where you're from?”

  I smiled, fully leaning back to look out of the window, forehead pressed against the cool glass.

  I nodded, “Surprisingly, yeah. But I like the rain, as long as it doesn't storm. I like the sounds.” We were both quiet, listening to the waterdrops as they pinged off the metal roof and down the windows, racing each other to the bottom. “What about you?”

  Sidney snorted.

  “I live here! The rain and I are close companions.”

  “Oh come on, I've been here before — it's not always raining.”

  “Yeah, where else have you been?”

  “Oh, everywhere really. I traveled a lot when I was younger, and then I got a job in tourism. I guess that's what I'll be doing with these guys once I leave the Luxe.”

  Rough Luxe, as it turned out, was a ludicrously expensive and endlessly gorgeous townhouse hotel across from St. Pancras International. Sidney parked and went to get my bag from the trunk before climbing back into the driver's seat.

  I waved him off before turning to stare up at the bleached stone walls and the lush plants growing around the doors.

  I thought someone would be there to greet me, but by the time I'd checked in and found my room, I realized that no one was coming.

  The room itself was all bare brick, but the colors were warm and the furniture was elegant. I found myself contemplating the copper bathtub with anticipation. Not a bad place to spend the next three days.

  The bathroom cabinets were already full of fancy products that I wouldn’t get through in my lifetime, let alone six months. I found a bottle of bubble bath and set the water running. There was a robe in the closet hanging alongside lots of other clothes that, when I checked, were all my size. The fact that whoever hired me for this job had gone all the way back through her former employers to find someone who still had my sizes on file was more than a little overwhelming.

  Everything reeked of wealth, like the person responsible was used to throwing money at things. It felt like I was being buttered up for something — shown how good it could be before showing me how bad it was. But, then again, there were worse things than being showered with new clothes and posh bath salts.

  No matter how overwhelmed it made me feel, I had to stick with it. The job was six months, and then I got to go home, to an actual home, and get on with the rest of my life.

  Front and center in my new closet were six neatly hung polo shirts with small pink and blue flowers embroidered on the front pocket, my uniform. I ignored it for now and took out the robe, setting it aside for later, and went back to the bath for a much-needed soak.

  4

  Prince In A Business Suit

  Breakfast would be served downstairs at 9am sharp with everyone involved in the trip, claimed the note I found on the bedside table. I rummaged through my closet for something to wear, eventually deciding on a red shirt tucked into a pair of dark trouser
s.

  The hallways were practically empty as I headed down to eat, and I realized that whoever organized the trip might have booked the entire townhouse for private use. People could be rich enough for that, right? The thought made me squirm a little; what could having this much money do to a person?

  Eventually, I found the dining room. A few people were chattering inside as they waited for breakfast. The decor was like that of a medieval banquet hall, completely over the top and yet somehow it worked perfectly — heavy white linen draped over every table, with beautiful golden frames with portraits of aristocrats and royalty hung dotted along the walls.

  A tall woman stood to one side of the room, frowning down at the phone in her hands. She had long black curls that were pinned in an elaborate twist on the back of her head and the kind of smooth sweet features you would find in a magazine. She looked up, and her pretty face morphed into a scowl. I hurried my pace, anxiously looking for somewhere to sit.

  “Josephine?” Sidney called from his seat at the back of the room, a delicate white tea set already in front of him. I breathed a sigh of relief, walking quickly past the woman and dropping down gratefully next to him.

  “I didn't think you'd be here.” I smiled. It was so good to see a familiar face. Sidney's grin was wide and welcoming.

  “I've worked for the Wrights for years — Christine asked if I would come along this morning since they needed a driver. Tea?” I nodded, and he lifted the pot and poured tea into one of the tiny cups. I took sup. It was hot but sweet; I could feel it warming my insides as I swallowed.