Page 36 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

With the stockings and coat and the fuck me lips and the shadow of the hat brim adding a touch of noir…I was a bona fide homme fatale.

One last more, um, personal piece of preparation—hoping lube wasn’t going to squidge out of me embarrassingly—and I was good to go.

Then I called for a car. Luckily, Caspian’s employees were made of stern stuff and Alisha, tonight’s chauffeur, didn’t bat an eyelash when I slipped into the back of the Maybach, (un)dressed like a slutty lunatic.

It was late enough that the roads were relatively clear, for London anyway, so it only took about fifteen minutes to get to Caspian’s office. I watched the roads and buildings flash by in pockets of light and shadow, and the river that curled around them like a dark snake, its back a shifting kaleidoscope of the city’s glitter.

“You want me to wait?” Alisha asked as she took us past security, into the underground parking lot, and pulled up outside the lift.

I hesitated, not quite sure how to answer. This had the potential to be the shortest encounter of my life. But Arden 2.0 did not talk himself out of things. “Um, no. It’s fine, thanks. I probably won’t need you again tonight.”

I scrambled out of the car, clutching the mobile Bellerose had given me way back when I’d first moved into One Hyde Park, since it also allowed emergency access to all of Caspian’s buildings. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure that “fuckstop” was the sort of emergency he’d had in mind, but it was nearly ten o’clock at night. The building was all sealed up and, even if it hadn’t been, I could hardly have waltzed up to reception. Cheap tart in a greatcoat to see Caspian Hart.

The lift whirred upward for what felt like a long time. And when it finally stopped moving, I stepped out into a silent, shadowy corridor. I vaguely remembered it from the last time I’d launched a one-man assault on Caspian’s place of business, but it was different now. Eerie without people round, broken reflections from the city outside skittering across all the darkly shining glass.

Caspian’s floor was the only point of light, his often its own soft glow, just past his assistant’s thankfully unattended desk.

My heart flailed around in my chest.

Okay. Okay. I was doing this.

Chapter 10

My stockinged feet made no noise on the plush carpets as I approached the office. My nerves were fluttery but holding steady.

I was feeling reasonably impressed with myself as I pushed open Caspian’s door and went in.

Or rather I fell in.

I didn’t even know what I tripped over—my own misplaced optimism I guess—but one minute I was sliding into Caspian’s office, all sultry in my sex coat, and the next I was yelping and in a heap on the ground.

“Arden?” If anything romantic had taken place—Caspian’s face lighting up with joy at the sight of me, that kind of thing—I was in no position to witness it. He sounded surprised, though, rather than horrified. So that was good. Maybe. “Are you all right?”

I nodded, and rubbed my nose into the carpet. “I meant to do this.”

“You did?”

“Absolutely. I was just, y’know, sitting at home, thinking about you working late, how tired you must be and how hard you work in general. And it struck me that what you probably needed was for somebody to turn up uninvited and fall over.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

I still didn’t dare look up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No. I’m…I’m glad to see you.”

“Oh God, Do you mean that?”

“Now I’m nodding. Do you need help?”

“Nope.” I bounced to my feet, with only a small wince. “I’m good.”

Caspian was standing by his desk, washed silver by the light from his computer screen, his face all shadows and angles, and so starkly beautiful that it made this whole venture seem absurd. What in God’s name had I been thinking? How was someone like me supposed to seduce someone like him? How had I ever convinced myself I possessed that power? I mean, it was an excellent coat but it wasn’t magic. And I wasn’t a prince.

If anything I was a frog.

A frog in ill-considered lipstick.

“This was supposed to be sexy,” I muttered.