What Happens In Italy..._A BWWM Billionaire Romance Read online

  “You’re that cool, huh,” he asked upon stepping into her humble abode. “I like your place, the industrial fits you well.”

  “Are you calling me cold?” She counted her steps to keep herself from running to him. After ten, they were face to face. She wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his woodsy cologne.

  “Mmm, I missed this. I missed you.” He held her tighter, their chests pressing together. After pulling away, he held her face in his massive hand, replacing a stray curl behind her ear. “You went natural.”

  “I’m surprised you know what that means. And I’m still transitioning.”

  “It looks better than I thought it would.” He hugged her again. “I don’t want to let you go.”

  “Well, you have to, bud,” she said, removing herself. “You promised me a surprise.” She went to retrieve her purse, reappearing a few seconds later. “You didn’t answer my question. Were you calling me cold?”

  “Of course not, love. You’re dependable and strong, like the pipes and concrete counters.” His guffaw grew louder after she punched him in the chest. He allowed her to enter the elevator first, his hand resting on her lower back. “I can’t wait to see your face when we get there.”

  ###

  A light sweat coated Nariah’s forehead, the same perspiration covering her hands. She curled her fingers, willing them to support her weight. Lactic acid stung her arms, her legs feeling the same burn shortly thereafter. She heard her teeth grinding together in her ears, the sound making her eyes water.

  “I know that’s not all you got,” Russell said from above her.

  “This is my first time doing this.”

  “I thought you would be better,” he taunted, pressing on.

  Not to be defeated, she raised her eyes, taking note of her destination. She would not let him win, both because she wanted bragging rights and because he would never let it go. She shook out her right leg, followed by her left, repeating the pattern with her upper extremities. She took a breath in to refocus her mind.

  “I’m going to beat you.”

  “I thought you were supposed to let me win,” she claimed.

  “I don’t let anyone win, sweetheart. Not even my boy.” He bit his tongue, the Freudian slip causing him to lose his grip.

  Nariah took advantage of the opportunity, climbing to his spot and bypassing him. With the help of the instructors, she grabbed the most optimal handholds, her brain automatically knowing where to place her feet to keep her body balanced. She kicked his hand away, grinning at his curses, oblivious to his confession.

  Upon reaching the top of the 32-foot wall, she yanked on the rope connected to the small brass bell. She pumped her fists, poking her tongue out at him. Seeing he wasn’t paying attention, she repelled to his position. “I know you heard me up there cheering.” She tapped his forehead three times. “Earth to Russell.”

  “I apologize. Did you say something?”

  “Nothing except...I won.” She did her patented cabbage patch, her body swaying in the harness. “You’re lucky you didn’t take me up on that bet, sucker.”

  “You can lick me all you want.” He kicked himself down the wall before she had a chance to react, dodging the shoe she flung at him. His feet hit the ground seconds before hers. Cupping her face, he greeted her with a soft kiss. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing her wide eyes.

  “Uh, nothing.” She took a step back. “Didn’t know you liked PDA?”

  “I usually don’t, but there’s no cameras in this place,” he explained.

  “Right, the billionaire can’t be seen with his black girlfriend.” Insecurity underlied the disgust in her words. She left him where he stood, sauntering to the table where her purse waited. Her anger grew as she didn’t have any messages or missed calls, not that she was expecting any. She slid further down the bench as he tried to sit next to her, moving to the other side of the table when he persisted.

  “You can’t seriously think that’s why I picked this place.”

  “I don’t know, just making an informed decision based on the facts,” she responded. She pretended to be surfing the internet, she peeked at him over the top of her phone.

  “We talked about this.” He joined her on the other side of the table, placing a hand on her thigh to keep her from running. “You’re not some fetish for me. I hate that I have to say it, but I’d be just as infatuated with you if you were white.”

  Her grimace transitioned into a lack of emotion before turning into a smile. “That’s the best compliment you could come up with?”

  “It’s the truth.” Sincerity made the brown speckles in his green eyes glimmer. He pulled her into him. “I wouldn’t get all this lip from a white woman, though.”

  Heat built in her abdomen as his lips teased her ear, his chuckle flirting with her neck. She gave him a playful shove before resting her hand on his leg, her fingertips just on the inside of his thigh. She licked her lips. The slight twitch in his own was the exact reaction she was seeking. “You’re right, you wouldn’t.”

  “You do have exquisite lips.” He brushed them with his thumb.

  “Which ones?”

  “You’re a nasty one aren’t you, Ms. Alexander. You’d better be careful with this game you’re playing.”

  “Or what. Mr. Haines.” She thanked the stars for her melanin, knowing a lighter tone would’ve shown her embarrassment at the words he whispered.

  “What do you think about that?” he asked.

  “Uh, uh…” She lost all train of thought as he stood and framed her in his arms.

  “Remember, there are no cameras here, so mind the shit you talk to me.”

  She had never heard him curse before, the forbidden word sparking her curiosity. Her mind began devising ways to get him to say it again, along with the others. Regaining her composure, she ducked under his arm, slapping his backside. “I can talk all the shit I want. I won.”

  “Is that a challenge, Mrs. Alexander? No one openly challenges me and gets away with it.”

  “Take it how you want it, Russell,” she taunted, making her way back to the wall. She began her ascent, a final look back and a wink, demonstrating her confidence. “Catch me if you can.”

  I’m gonna have so much fun having my way with you tonight, he thought to himself.

  Sore and satisfied, Nariah let the seat back, placing her socked feet on the dashboard. She had always admired the body style of the Porsche Panamera, the sexy design carried into the cabin. She adjusted the vents and the volume, drawing her hand back after he slapped it.

  “Hasn’t anybody ever told you not to touch a b—”

  “Don’t you dare,” she interjected.

  “Calm down love, I was going to say billionaire, a billionaire’s radio.”

  She offered him her palm. “That was a good one.”

  He finished the high five, a dimple she hadn’t noticed before betraying his attempt not to smile. “Thought you would appreciate that.” He kept his eyes straight as he placed a hand on her stomach. “Are you still sick?”

  Until that moment, she hadn’t thought about her ailment. “I feel okay. I guess you’re my medicine.”

  “Happy to help.”

  Nariah turned on her side so she could face him, the car vibrating underneath her as he stepped on the gas. “You avoided the conversation long enough, where are you taking me?”

  He ignored the pinches and prods, and let the windows down, stomping on the accelerator. His hands tightened around the wheel as the digital numbers on the heads-up display climbed. In his peripheral vision, he noticed her clutching her seatbelt with one hand, the cup holder with the other. The roaring engine drowned out all of her words.

  He continued pushing the gas until the numbers in front of him reached triple digits. His status permitted him to drive like a newly licensed teen: without regard to anyone else on the road. He paid no attention to the Chargers he passed, not caring if they could be law enforcement, his license plate hintin
g at his identity. He zigzagged through cars he thought were moving too slow, zipping past the cars who thought they were moving quickly. When he looked in her direction, he saw her lips moving.

  “I can’t hear you,” he yelled.

  She rolled her window up, grabbing his arm to catch his attention.

  He slowed down upon recognizing the seriousness in her face. “What’s wrong?” He rolled his window up, casting the car in silence.

  “You said something about your boy earlier. I thought you didn’t have kids.”

  He stretched his neck, the leather on the steering wheel screeching as he twisted it. “I don’t. I was talking about my nephew.”

  “Oh. What’s his name?”

  “Seth.” It wasn’t a total lie. His body went numb as he thought about the secret he was hiding. He was going to tell her the truth when the timing was right, when he had everything under control. He also wanted to secure her love first. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t. He spat out a few more half-truths, releasing his breath as she switched the subject.

  “Can you please tell me where we’re going,” she pleaded.

  “Take a nap, love. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

  ###

  It was dark when Nariah opened her eyes. She found Russell’s fingers interwoven with hers, smiling as she listened to him sing along with Eric Benet. As the car slowed, she raised the back of her seat, giving herself a view out of the window. Confusion came over her as she saw they were in the middle of nowhere. Gravel crackled under the wheels, a cloud of dust trailing behind them as they traveled down a dirt road. She remained quiet, watching as he made a right turn, heading toward a nondescript building.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapping you.”

  “Could have fooled me,” she responded.

  A large man in a black suit opened the garage door, allowing Russell to pull in. He shook the man’s hand before jogging to the other side and helping her out of the car. He made a brief introduction of the two before ushering her through a door into a dimly lit hallway. He held her from behind as they walked toward the door waiting on the other end. “I hope you don’t think it’s too much…”

  “If you have to say that, it is.”

  “So be it.” He pushed the door open, following her into a large hangar. As they meandered further into the darkness, the motion sensors turned the lights on. A red and white single engine plane sat in the middle of the building.

  Her eyes were drawn to the black letters on the side. It was the same quote tattooed on the inside of his left bicep.

  “How long have you had this?” she questioned without looking at him.

  “For a while actually. I bought it when I first started studying for my pilot’s license.”

  She whipped around so fast, her hair covered her face. “You expect me to ride in this thing with you driving?”

  His kiss to her forehead muffled his laughter. “No love, I expect you to ride while I fly. I want you to be my co-pilot.”

  “Nope. No way. Not gonna happen.”

  Russell clasped his hands behind his back, expecting her reaction. “Well, you have no choice because Ray took the car.”

  “So you did kidnap me?”

  He held his thumb and index finger in front of his face, a small gap between the two. “Look, if you don’t want to fly with me, it’s only a short drive to the private jet.”

  Nariah folded her arms over her chest, peering at him out of the side of her eye. “I thought the car was gone.”

  “That’s what cell phones are for.”

  “Speaking of…” She went to reach for her purse, realizing it was no longer hanging off her shoulder. She patted herself down, not feeling the familiar bump of her phone. Her gaze was icing as she raised her eyes.

  He hunched his shoulders, his eyes wrinkling as he tried to contain his grin. He took her by the hand, leading her to the ladder that led to the doors. “Do you see why I took you rock climbing first?”

  A light tap on the rear encouraged her to climb up the first few rungs. Her palms became wetter the higher she climbed. A glance back at Russell did little to calm her. Only after pulling herself into the cockpit did she release her breath, her lips shaking as she did so.

  Seconds later, he joined her, helping her strap in. He slid the headphones over her ears and bent the microphone so she would have an easier time talking. He then strapped himself in and started the engine. “Can you hear me?” he asked after sliding his headphones over his ears.

  Her thumb jutted toward the ceiling.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sick if I’m being honest.” Her skin had a green tint to it, her movements slow, her eyes blinking at half the rate of their usual speed. “I think—” A dry heave halted her sentence. She swallowed the bile in her throat, counting to ten to calm herself. Another convulsion made her eyes water. She managed to wipe the tears before he saw them.

  “There’s a barf bag under your seat if you need it.” He released the brake, the plane inching forward. “Just know, you’ll never live it down if you throw up.”

  “It’s your fault if I do. I didn’t sign up for this. Where are we going anyway?”

  “Just for a little ride. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.” He clicked a button that opened the hangar door. He laughed to himself as she clutched at her seatbelt when he increased speed. Soon they were staring at a pre-lit runway. Russell held the steering wheel as if it belonged to one of the many sports cars he owned. His lips peeled open, his teeth slowly becoming visible. Inch by inch, he pushed the accelerator forward.

  Nariah watched the white line zoom past. She reminded herself of all the times she had flown, convincing herself that this was no different. She breathed through her nose, her mouth flooding with saliva, her throat beginning to burn. When the lines became one large blur, she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the familiar weight in her stomach.

  “Here we go,” Russell exclaimed.

  Three hours had passed when a violent shaking stirred her awake. Upon seeing that they had landed, Nariah unbuckled herself and stretched her arms. Fresh air flowed into her lungs when Russell opened the door. She followed him down the ladder, falling into his arms as the blood rushed back to her feet. She examined the scene, the sound of soft waves crashing against her eardrums, the salt she inhaled reappearing on her tongue.

  “Welcome to Ballast Key.”

  “We’re in Florida?” she questioned.

  “We’re on a private island just outside of Florida.” He grabbed her hand, leading her to a town car that waited some yards away. Another man in a suit, this one named Ryan, held the door open as they slid inside. After closing his door, he raised the privacy glass, Erykah Badu flowing through the speakers. He handed her a champagne flute, filling his after hers. “A toast, to us.”

  “To you kidnapping me.”

  “You came willingly,” he retorted.

  “I went rock climbing willingly. This,” she gestured to the car’s interior, “I didn’t agree to.”

  “It was a surprise. Don’t worry, we’re here just for the weekend.”

  They were quiet as they drank and listened to the music, Nariah settling in as they continued on toward their destination. After a twenty-minute ride, they arrived at a modern style house that looked like it should have been featured on HGTV. They left Ryan to get the bags as they made their way to the house.

  She was speechless upon entering, the majority of the house was white with red and black as accent colors. She kept her hands clasped in front of her, not wanting to touch anything. At the end of the massive foyer, she kicked off her shoes, her feet adjusting to the cool tile by the time she entered the great room. The double-sided fireplace gave the area warmth, while also giving it some separation from the kitchen. She marveled at the abstract art hanging on the walls, the colors and undirected lines speaking to her own inner chaos. “Who did this, it’s incredible!”

  “The artist
signed it in the lower left corner,” Russell answered.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just a man with many passions.” He swept her into his arms, pulling her onto the couch, playing with her hair as he explained his plans.

  “You know black people don’t swim right?”

  “Oh,” he gasped. “It’s the hair, right?” He squeezed her tighter after she punched him in the chest, burying his face in her neck. “Are you happy being here?”

  “Haven’t been here long enough to know yet.”

  He pressed his lips to her cheek. “So stubborn.” He slid her off his lap and headed for the chef’s kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”

  “Are you going to cook for me, Mr. Haines?”

  “I am, Ms. Alexander. Other than to get in the shower, you won’t be lifting a finger.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter7

  Nariah’s hand shook as she held the fork out. “Hurry up before I spill it.” A giggle floated into the air as Russell took it into his mouth, holding onto it as she tried to pull it back.

  The evening had been filled with good food, drinks, music, and conversation, the topics including dreams, goals, and wishes. As the sun went down, the mood shifted to one more tranquil and inviting. Red candles gave life to the lust flowing around the room, the white translucent moonlight flowing through the panoramic door bringing the outdoors in.

  She finished the dessert, much to his dismay and lay on his bare chest. Her mind wandered to the changes she had experienced since meeting Russell. She had begun to drift when a rumble in his throat brought her back to life. “Getting tired of me?”

  “Just thinking,” he said, combing his fingers through his hair.

  “About what?” She raised her head. “Everything okay?”

  “There are so many things I want to tell you, but I’m afraid.”

  “The man who just flew me from New York to a private island without telling me, is afraid,” she scoffed. “I didn’t think anything scared you.”

  “You do. The way I feel about you does.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” She propped herself on her elbows, able to look him in the eyes.