Page 3 of Impulse (Infinitus Billionaire #1)

Lex pulled into the underground parking of Dublin Tower on Wilshire Boulevard, parked his bike, and speed dialed his secretary as he entered the elevator. She picked up before the doors closed.

“Did you get the file?” he asked.

“Yes. The studio e-mailed it, and I made copies,”

she said.

“Jillian Finnegan is a member of XS100, one of the top organizations for stuntwomen. They have a website with stats, pictures, and stunt reels. It might be easier to view her portfolio online.”

“Thanks. Bring the file upstairs and e-mail me the link.”

“The file is on your foyer desk.”

There was reproach in her voice.

“And I just sent the link.”

Paula Watson had been with him for eighteen years and could anticipate his needs before he voiced them. She was also the only employee with access to the penthouse, his home away from home.

His phone flashed with a new e-mail message.

“Got it. Anything on her agent?”

“Greg Underwood’s agency is in Glendale.”

“Get him on the phone.”

“I already tried. He’s meeting with a client outside the office and won’t be back for another hour. I told his people to return my call as soon as he gets back.”

Lex had no intention of waiting around for some agent to fit him into his schedule.

“Can I get there in half an hour?”

“Not with the traffic, but Mathews is around and Rake’s people won’t mind if we use his helipad. Underwood Agency is only a block from Rake’s offices.”

He and Rake went way back to college, parties, and easy lays. Now they were into more serious stuff.

“Tell Mathews we’re leaving in”—Lex checked his watch—“thirty minutes.”

That would give him time to shower and change.

“Tell Cavendish and his team to be ready, too.”

His legal team was used to dropping everything at his command.

“Where’s Douglas?”

“I just sent him out to pick up a few things. He should be back any minute.”

He wanted to remind her that Douglas was his employee, not her personal errand boy, but the two of them had a special relationship he never understood and her silence said she wasn’t done. Paula never did anything foolish or they wouldn’t still be together.

“I wasn’t going to ask, because you’d eventually tell me what was going on when you were ready, but I’m curious now. First you wanted information on the actresses, now a stuntwoman. What’s going on?”

“It’s business.”

Paula had been with Fitz-Valdez Real Estate when he started working there while he was still in college. Ten years his senior and resourceful, she used to scare the hell out of him. Now he couldn’t imagine his business without her. Her loyalty was the one thing he could count on, but this business with Jillian was… different.

It was more than different. It was personal and private despite what he’d told Paula. He didn’t want anyone to know about his plans for Jillian. Lex’s eyes narrowed on the elevator numbers as he mentally went over their last meeting.

The protective instinct toward her surprised him. Maybe it was the vulnerability he’d glimpsed in her eyes the moment she’d placed her hand in his. Or the way she’d trembled when he’d kissed her hand. The woman was a contradiction. Gutsy, yet vulnerable. If things went according to plan, no one would ever know how their relationship began.

“Paula, cancel Cavendish. I won’t need him or his team after all.”

The silence this time was longer. He could hear the wheels in her head turning. He rarely made a move without covering his bases, which meant his lawyers going through the contract with a fine-tooth comb. This was a first. But like he’d said, the situation with Jillian was special.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Lex,”

Paula said, speaking slowly as though choosing her words carefully.

“but I hope you’re not doing something that would land us in jail. I took an oath to never testify against you.”

Lex chuckled as the doors opened. He stepped out of the elevator and into his foyer.

“No, Paula. It’s nothing that dire. And I don’t recall asking you to take an oath.”

“No, you didn’t, but a woman a lot scarier than you did when she asked me to be your assistant.”

His mother could be overly protective and equally outrageous.

“Then I release you from the oath. I’m still officially out of the office, unless—”

“Your family calls,”

she finished.

“Your mother called and wanted to make sure you will be making an appearance at her party on Saturday. To paraphrase her, you better be there or else she’ll bring the party to the penthouse. It’s big enough to accommodate her guests. She also doesn’t understand why you insist on staying in the city when you have a perfectly comfortable home and people to take care of you at the mansion.”

Home was really the family estate in Palos Verdes. His mother was attached to it and none of his siblings had wanted the headache of its upkeep, so Lex had done what he always did and stepped up. He’d added a wing and made a few changes, which had pleased his mother, before taking up permanent residence.

“I’ll call her.”

He picked up the folder from the foyer desk and continued to the kitchen.

“Speaking of home, your refrigerator is empty again except for bottled water, some white wine I’m sure I left there last year, and a carton of milk that expired weeks ago. Douglas will be there in a few minutes with some groceries. I gave him a list.”

Lex rarely had meals at the penthouse, so Douglas rarely cooked except for an occasional breakfast.

“Thank you.”

Lex studied the kitchen and frowned. Something was off.

“Paula? What did you do?”

“Nothing,”

she said quickly.

“Mathews is headed to the helipad.”

Had she rearranged his kitchen again? No, something was different. He had a keen sense of observation and knew when his personal space had been disturbed. Douglas never did anything without consulting him first, and Lex might not use his kitchen except to brew coffee, but…

“Did you take my cappuccino maker?” he asked.

“I was sure you wouldn’t notice,”

she said.

“Do you know how hard it is to buy a birthday gift for a man who has everything? This cappuccino maker, Lex, came from the bottom of my heart and you never use it. I’m keeping it.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He preferred his coffee black, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings. His sister and cousins loved their coffee smothered with milk and cream.

“I love that machine.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Bring it back, Paula.”

He grinned when she laughed and said she was on her way.

Lex disconnected the call and studied the folder. Part of him wanted to open it and read everything about Jillian Finnegan. A resume didn’t give an insight into a person’s character. That was the kind of thing you learned as you got to know them, and he meant to get to know Jillian in every possible way. He also had a rule about doing a thorough background check on everyone he did business with, except this wasn’t business.

Lex turned, walked to the coffee table, and dropped the folder on top of a pile of nature magazines. Anything he learned about Jillian Finnegan was going to come directly from her, not a resume.

*

Jillian threw the keys in the tray by her door and kicked off her shoes. She started unbuttoning her shirt before she reached her bedroom. She was still hurt and… really, really pissed.

She stood under the hot spray and swore, imagining her brothers cringing. She’d learned to curse from them, yet they acted like she was insane to copy them.

Well, screw them!

How dare they want to kick her out? They were supposed to stand up to their father. Be her champions. Even Ricky had said she was the best. She’d tried to guilt him into confessing, but he’d zipped out the door before she could say anything. Ricky could never keep a secret. Worse, her father had been asleep, leaving her no reason to linger by his bed.

Why didn’t he want her back riding? What was he thinking borrowing money from seedy characters? She screamed in frustration.

The shower didn’t make her feel better. She needed a plan, something that would make her father see that he needed her. Cash her stocks and bonds? Refinance her condo? She might get eighty. Maybe a hundred grand. But that wouldn’t be enough. Not by a long stretch. Chris had drilled into her to always save something for rainy days. In her line of business, sometimes it didn’t just rain. It poured. No stunts meant no pay. Or you could be on top of the world one minute, the next broken up like a China doll because some idiot stunt coordinator’s assistant made a mistake.

No, she didn’t want to cash in her retirement monies even though she felt like she was in the middle of a hurricane. She needed more work. Shorter gigs with huge pay checks. She tried not to overlap jobs, but she could work evenings and on days when she wasn’t filming. Then there were weekends when they weren’t shooting at a location.

She needed to talk to her agent.

Yanking on a bathrobe, Jillian left the bathroom and bent over to pick up her jacket from the floor, almost slipping on the wooden surface. One of these days, she was going to carpet the whole place instead of using area rugs. The problem was she loved her love nest the way it was. Bold colors on the windows, pillows, and rugs. Candles and canopy bed curtains. It suited her. She plopped on top of her bed and removed her cell.

She had missed a call from Greg. Nice. Maybe he already had something lined up for her. She got comfortable on her many pillows and swept a hand across the missed call.

“I’m happy you called back, Jill,”

Greg said. He was a fast talker, who got excited even over the smallest of parts and always saw a silver lining in every role, which made him a great agent. His firm had over a hundred clients, most of them kids.

“That’s funny, G,”

Jillian said.

“I was just about to call you. What’s going on? Why are you whispering?”

“Am I? Oh, okay.”

His voice returned to normal.

“I have a job for you. Something you can do while filming your present segments.”

Jillian sat up.

“No way. I was just thinking about that. What kind of job?”

“Acting.”

She sighed.

“I’m trying to get away from acting, G. Doesn’t JLo or Beyoncé need a female security guard while in L.A.? Maybe an overindulgent pop star’s planning a birthday party and needs girls in bikinis to mud-wrestle? I need something that makes tons of money in the shortest amount of time.”

He laughed nervously.

“You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“What do you think? People see me and assume I’m a defenseless female, until I disarm them. And don’t say I can’t handle a real gun because I’m licensed to pack, and I can dismantle and put one back together faster than most security guards these movie stars employ.”

Greg groaned.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about the way you pass time at the set. Quit showing off and listen, Jill. We have a new client. Terms are negotiable, and the hours are flexible. The best part is he’s willing to work around your schedule.”

“You had me at a new client.”

“The guy doesn’t make a move without a slew of lawyers, yet he flew out to Glendale personally to discuss you. I’m not too thrilled that he’s taken over my office and has my secretary running around doing his bidding, but your portfolio must have impressed him because he wants to work with you and no one else.”

Jillian grinned. He must have heard about her mad skills.

“Is Chris on board? You know I don’t work with any stunt coordinator except him.”

“I told him the same thing, but he said you won’t need Chris.”

She frowned.

“What kind of gig is it?”

“He won’t tell me.”

Greg sounded pouty. He went back to whispering.

“He insists on talking to you in person first. He wants to meet with you tomorrow evening. Are you filming?”

“I’m done for the week. When and where am I meeting him?”

“Eros. Seven o’clock.”

Eros was an exclusive, new restaurant on Melrose, and everyone she knew claimed they served the best seafood in the greater Los Angeles area. To her, seafood was like any food. Not to Chris and Greg. They’d met at a seafood restaurant. Greg insisted they were reaching for the same crab leg. So romantic.

A few months ago, she had tried to get them a reservation at Eros for their anniversary and learned that she had to wait a month to get one. Obviously, her new client had serious connections to get a reservation on such short notice.

“Does this client have a name?”

Jillian asked.

“Didn’t I tell you? His name is Alexander Fitzgerald, a real estate billionaire that rivals the toupee-wearing dude, except he has better taste. Remember the art studio in Venice you were admiring during your last shoot? He did that. He restores old buildings. Even his new ones add something to their surroundings. His family is very prominent. His brothers and uncles…”

Jillian had gone into selective listening as soon as Greg had mentioned Lex’s name. Billionaire, huh? He hadn’t dressed like one, but he had a presence and the arrogance she associated with the privileged.

She wasn’t surprised Greg knew about the Fitzgeralds. He lived and breathed gossip blogs, magazines, and L.A. Times Seen & Heard pages. Like most agents, he had to be on top of things in Hollywood—who attended what and with whom, and who got snubbed. She was the opposite. Couldn’t care less.

“He’s still there, isn’t he?”

she asked.

“Yes. How do you know?”

Greg asked.

“You’re whispering, G, which means you’re in the cave.”

The cave was really a giant walk-in closet. Greg was a creature of habit. He hid in his closet when he didn’t want to talk to a client, or when he wanted to discuss a client with Chris.

“Maybe you can ask him what this job is about,”

Greg said.

“The suspense is killing me.”

Me too.

“Okay. Let me talk to him.”

Jillian jumped up and paced as she waited for Lex. How was she going to deal with him? And how had he found her? He hadn’t bothered to ask for her name. And just because she’d turned him down didn’t mean he had to come up with a lame excuse to see her again. She needed a real job, not to play games with bored billionaires.

What was she thinking? Men like him didn’t play games. They made money. Lots and lots of it, and she needed some yesterday. He probably had people bending over backward to do his biddings. She, unfortunately, was never good at bending over backward or forward. No, not true. She was pretty nimble from years of gymnastics and dance as her exes would testify. She just didn’t suck up to people.

Talking to Lex Fitzgerald would require a nicely-worded opening line, which wasn’t her strongest point. She spoke her mind and went with her instincts. It didn’t help that Lex was gifted with everything that made him so damn alluring to women. Wealth. Good looks. Charm. Bet he was great in bed, too. Or not. Jillian giggled at her naughty thoughts. He probably gave orders and didn’t know how to let go.

“Jillian?”

She tried to steel herself against the effect of that smooth, sexy voice of his. She really tried and failed miserably. She closed her eyes, savoring its effect on her. Then she opened her mouth and words poured out.

“I will not allow you to bully my agent, Lex. I said no to dinner, and I meant it.”

A slow chuckle answered her.

“If I bullied your agent, I was not aware of it. Just a second.”

Then she heard him apologize to Greg before coming back on the line.

“I have a job for you.”

An arrogant billionaire who apologizes? That thought steadied her.

“Let me guess. You were so impressed by my riding skills you’ve decided I should test-ride your bikes?”

“No. I believe we have people doing that sort of thing.”

“You believe? You don’t strike me as someone who doesn’t know every aspect of his company?”

He chuckled.

“I do, except Leeds belongs to my cousin, not me. I’m just helping him iron out a few snags.”

Hmm, wonder what the few snags were and how he’s ironing them.

“So if this is not about my stunts, what’s going on? You need a bodyguard? If Greg didn’t mention it, I’m licensed to carry a gun and I’m a fourth degree black belt in Karate.”

A chuckle, then.

“I’m listening.”

“At the right fee, I can stop any man, woman, or uh…”

She couldn’t say child. That would be insensitive. Besides, she adored kids.

“Or aliens from getting to you.”

This time, she got a laugh from him. “Aliens?”

“They’re around. We just don’t know it, or don’t want to admit it. Anyway, are you serious about this bodyguard thing?”

“Absolutely,”

he said firmly.

“It will take a lot of acting, blending in, and pretending to be something you’re not.”

Ah, that must be where her acting abilities are needed. The problem was she sucked at acting. Tried it and failed. She was better at escaping unscathed from mayhem, a stuntwoman.

“Then your safety will be my number one priority twenty-four seven. No one will know exactly what I am or see me coming.”

She still wasn’t buying this.

“Why me? There’re lots of security companies around with muscle-for-hire.”

“I thought we were discussing this over dinner?”

It was time to play it cool, not the desperate woman willing to make a quick buck to save her family’s business.

“I have to make sure you’re legit before I agree to a dinner.”

“Your agent vouched for me.”

“My agent is intimidated by you. No, awed by your mere presence and your family.”

She hoped she inferred she wasn’t. Actually, she was more than awed and intimidated by Lex Fitzgerald. It was a lot easier to talk to him when there were several cities between them than across a table. His ability to fluster her was a phenomenon she planned to analyze when she wasn’t listening to his sexy voice.

“So why me?”

she asked again.

“I’ve tried hiring private security firms, but I’m dealing with a breed of threat that’s subtle and tenacious.”

A creaking sound followed, and Jillian was sure it came from Greg’s chair. It tended to squeak when someone leaned forward.

“You see, in my line of business, reputation is everything. Any hint of a scandal and my competitors get an edge on a bid or negotiations stall.”

“I see.”

She sat on the edge of her bed. She still wasn’t sure he was serious.

“Actually, I don’t. Where do I come in?”

“I’m talking about women, Jillian. I smile at one and they think it gives them the right to slip into my bedroom during a party, hide in the closet until my guests leave, or bribe the doorman. And my poor driver is never sure whether a woman is serious about him because they’re not above seducing him to get to me or distracting him while their friends slide in the back of my car.”

And he was complaining? Most men would just go with the flow. That said a lot about him.

“Poor man.”

“Thank you,” Lex said.

“I meant your driver.”

“I don’t get any sympathy?”

Stop being so damn irresistible.

“Why? You’re getting all the girls.”

He chuckled.

“No, I’m not. I have to be polite, send them home, and put up with their husbands at the club. You have no idea how often I’ve stepped out of the shower to find a naked socialite in my bed. Or two. The last straw was the triplets.”

Jillian’s imagination had kicked into high gear the moment Lex mentioned walking out of the shower. Was he a terry robe man or .

“towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets glistening on his chiseled, broad chest” man?

“Triplets?”

Jillian whispered, her mind still enjoying the images in Naughty Land.

“Long story,”

Lex said.

“The bottom line is I need a female bodyguard to stop this kind of thing from happening. Someone who can make sure I’m not subjected to nude selfies on my phone, not accosted as I enter or leave a restaurant or my building, or served with frivolous lawsuits for alleged sexual misconduct. In other words, I need you, Jillian Finnegan.”

Geez, what a way to spoil a woman’s wicked imagination.

“You get nude selfies? Lucky guy.”

He chuckled.

“I’m not. My number is unlisted and is only known to family members.”

Then his family was trying to get him hitched. She was still not buying anything he said.

“Sounds like you really need a bodyguard.”

“Twenty-four seven. How much do you charge?”

She’d never guarded anyone, but she needed three hundred and fifty large ones ASAP. One week’s pay, and her family problems would go bye-bye. The sum she was thinking was outrageous, but she figured if a sitcom actress could get a million per episode, fifty grand for several hours a day wasn’t bad. Plus she didn’t have a script. She had to improvise.

“How much, Jillian?”

Lex asked impatiently.

“Fifty grand a day. That’s three-fifty a week.”

She cringed and waited for his laugh or a hell no.

Lex whistled instead, and she could imagine his gray eyes narrowing.

“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“I’m worth it. I can improvise, and I’m discrete. Besides, women love me. I’m what they call non-threatening.”

Most actresses weren’t threatened by stuntwomen.

“However, I’ll give you a discount if you’re thinking long-term. Twenty percent.”

Which she hoped he wasn’t. Men like him didn’t stay single for long.

“Since we’re in the middle of filming Terra Frost, we do have to work around my schedule.”

And she had her Phantom Rider nights, which he must never know about.

There was silence on the line, then.

“And for a year?”

Was he serious? The amount would be staggering. Millions.

“Still twenty percent and three-hundred-and-fifty thousand in cash the moment I sign the contract.”

More silence. She waited for him to call her bluff.

“That sounds reasonable,”

Lex said calmly as though she hadn’t just asked for an insane amount of money, the kind she’d never earn in Hollywood.

“Let’s discuss the details over dinner, shall we?”

He was serious. Just how loaded was this guy?

Jillian blew out a breath, the relief coursing through her was so sweet she almost yahooed. She was desperate for any gig, and this was it. She now had twenty-four hours to mentally prepare herself for a one-on-one with Lex. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d be ready. But she would try. Physically, she had to find a way to dampen his effect on her senses. Maybe she’d think of him and prune-faced socialite triplets. Jillian smothered a giggle.

“Jillian?”

“Sounds good, but I have plans for tomorrow evening.”

The Phantom was riding again, and that was one date she refused to cancel.

“Can we make it lunch or maybe meet in your office?”

“I’ll be out of town during the day, until evening. What are you doing tonight?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Then let’s have dinner tonight.”

His voice changed timbre from indulgent and amused to sexy and hypnotic.

“I’ll send my car for you. Is six-thirty okay?”

Jillian’s brain scrambled to come up with an excuse. She couldn’t possibly meet him today. She wasn’t ready.

“Yes,” she said.

“Great.”

She heard amusement in his voice.

“Do you need my address?”

“No, I’ll get it from Mr. Underwood. See you this evening, Jillian.”

Greg was back on the line while Jillian was still trying to figure out how she’d gone from needing more time to prepare for their meeting to agreeing to see him tonight. The man had a way of making her agree with him before she knew what she was saying. He must have placed some spell on her, which didn’t bode too well for a working relationship.

“Let me call you back in ten minutes.”

Greg’s voice implied he’d said something, but she hadn’t heard it.

Scowling, Jillian put her cell phone in the pocket of her robe and padded to the kitchen. She paused in the middle of the room, not exactly sure why she was there. Her stomach churned and her mind was pure goo. What was she thinking agreeing to meet Lex Fitzgerald tonight? What was she going to wear?

She turned around and went straight to her closet. There should be something decent beside the jeans and the tees. Nothing that screamed perfect-for-dinner-with-a-billionaire. She checked her watch. She had less than three hours. Maybe she should go shopping and buy something nice. Do her hair and nails.

Her phone went off, and she jumped. Jeez, she was a hot mess. “Greg?”

“So what’s the job?”

“He wants a bodyguard.”

“What? You mean he wants you to act the part of a bodyguard?”

“No, he wants a real bodyguard.”

“Did you brag to him you’re licensed to carry guns?”

Greg sounded outraged and worried at the same time. He was a pacifist by nature and hated guns with a passion. His parents and only sister were gunned down during a break-in at their home when he was in his late teens.

“No, G. No guns. He’s been having problems with women.”

She quickly explained Lex’s problems.

“I agreed to be available to him for, I don’t know, as long as he needs me. We’ll iron out the details later tonight.”

“Sweetheart, what that man needs is a wife, not a bodyguard,”

Greg said.

“Yes, well, I’m in no position to provide him with one, so bodyguard it is. Did he tell you he changed the meeting to tonight?”

“Yes. We’ll be there.”

Safety in numbers. Good.

“But we won’t sit with you,”

Greg added.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

she asked, her voice rising.

“He got us a reservation, Jill, but we won’t eat with you. We’ll get together tomorrow to finalize the details. He mentioned he’d be out of town but he plans to be back by five. I told him how you tried to get us a table for our last anniversary and couldn’t get in, and he made one phone call and voila! We’re in. Can you believe that? Chris and I have been dying to…”

Jillian tuned Greg out. He tended to go off on a tangent anyway. Lex had surprised her again. She could pretend and say she hated the ease with which Lex got his way or accomplished things, but she’d be lying to herself. She was impressed. He obviously didn’t let obstacles or people keep him from his goals. He’d wanted her to have dinner with him tonight, and it was going to happen.

On the other hand, he didn’t have to get Greg and Chris that reservation, yet he had. What other surprises did the billionaire have in store for her?