Billionaire Alpha 1(11)

"I'm so sorry. I just didn't see you there." Bethany reached toward the   girl to touch her shoulder, but the shapely girl jerked away from her.

"Well, maybe you should pay more attention, you big oaf." She sneered   and looked back at her friend. "I hope I can still dance tomorrow. This   clumsy chick has stepped on my foot and now trampled it with the door.   Ridiculous."

"Totally. You must be the new intern."

"Yeah." Bethany moved around them, not trusting herself to take too much   more abuse from either of them before retaliating. Both occurrences   were accidents, and their nastiness was about to bring the bitch out in   her. The last thing she wanted to do was explain to Kent or Damon why   she'd punched the pretty redhead in the mouth.         

     



 

"Just so you know, behemoth, your lunch with Damon doesn't mean shit. He   takes each of us to lunch. You're nothing special, and he's not   interested in you." She shrugged as her friend echoed her thoughts with a   sound of agreement, her hands on her hips as she glared at Bethany.

Bethany stared at them over her shoulder. "You mean he doesn't like me, like me?"

"Um no. He likes me, if anybody. Don't even try it. You aren't even his type." The redhead sneered again.

"Far too large and clumsy." The Hispanic girl smiled menacingly and   moved toward the door, holding it open. "Come on, Sadie, let's go find a   Band-Aid for your pretty foot."

"Shame," Bethany whispered as if she cared and slipped into a stall.   She'd get the girl when the time was right, but for now, planting seeds   was plenty fun enough.

"Dumbass," Bethany whispered, tugging at the suit and letting her   thoughts take her to the center of a ring as Sadie got her ass handed to   her. It would be too easy, but oh, so much fun.



*



"Good Morning, Bethany. Damon will be with you shortly, just take a seat   over there." Linda, Damon's secretary, looked over the top of her desk   and smiled with what must be kindness. She was too sensual, and it  left  Bethany wondering about Kent's thoughts when hiring the woman.  Maybe she  was just that way around other women? Surely not.

Damon's door opened and a short blonde with a pixie haircut and red   lipstick walked out, a dizzy look to her as she turned and waved, as if   in love. Damon moved out beside her, his hand on the small of her back   as he looked over at Bethany. His finger brushed by his lips at the   crimson lipstick that was smeared on the side of his mouth. Linda got up   and walked to him, leaning over to wipe it for him as the woman walked   away.

"Why does Miss Carrington insist on kissing you like an old fashioned   church woman? She's in her thirties. I think she does it simply to kiss   on you." Linda moved back and shook her head as Damon smirked, the man   never seeming to smile. "Better. Your reservation at Cruz is for eleven   fifteen. You want me to call them to bring your car around?"

"Yes, the Mercedes." He looked over toward Bethany. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." She smiled and stood, walking toward him.   She half wished he would offer his bended arm like his brother Matthew   had done the night before, the difference between the two men almost   leaving her with more questions than comfort.

Damon walked beside her, everyone they passed stopping to greet him and   giving her the look over. A conversation needed to start between them  to  deflate the awkwardness, but perhaps it only existed in her mind. Or   maybe he enjoyed the feeling that someone beside him was squirming   because of him. Asshole.

He opened the door to the lobby and waited until she'd moved through to   step up beside her. The elevator opened and they squeezed in, him  moving  in behind her. He kept the space between them appropriate, but  simply  knowing that it was him that hovered over the back of her caused  her  skin to tingle, her body reacting without consent.

She needed to talk with Krista, tell her that her new stepbrother was   everything she sexually wanted in a man. Then let the girl call her a   prude.

She smiled as the door opened and then moved out, waiting for Damon to move up beside her.

"I heard you got to meet Matthew last night?"

"I did. I liked him a lot. He's very down-to-earth."

A smile touched the side of Damon's mouth, the look softening his   features. She had to wonder if there wasn't more to him. Between Matt's   joking about him and Ben's support of him, surely he wasn't the monster   he appeared to be. He opened the door again for her, and they walked  out  of the front of the building, the Mercedes waiting for them.

The bellhop held her door open and Damon stood beside him; his father   had obviously taught him the way of southern manners. She slipped into   the car and watched him carefully as he moved around the front of the   car to get in. Breathing in deeply, she coveted the smell of him. Woodsy   and masculine, strong and sensual. His black pants hugged his legs and   waist, the faded pink button down shirt bringing out the darkness of  his  features. He got in and looked over at her.         

     



 

"Steakhouse for lunch. Hope you're hungry."

"I'm always hungry."

"My type of girl." He looked over his shoulder, the long tanned slope of   his neck far beyond kissable. She chided herself, hoping that she'd be   able to keep it together for lunch. The excitement at finally feeling a   deep sense of lust washed over her, but was shortly followed by the   stark reality that nothing would come of them. What would they have, a   double wedding? Her mom and his dad with the two of them beside them?

Ridiculous.

Was she his type of girl? From what Matthew had confirmed the night   before, her looks were right in the middle of the ballpark, and yet he   seemed to focus on blondes.

"Let's utilize every ounce of time we have together today." He turned   back in his seat and reached for a pair of dark sunglasses, looking even   more sinful than he had a moment before.

"Sounds good to me. What is my first assignment?"

"First, my rules. I run the company, and my father has graciously   trusted me to do things my way. I have several rules that everyone is   aware of, and you'll do well to remember them."

Heat flushed her chest and raced up her neck at the condescension in his   tone. She would have to suffer through lunch if he was going to put on   his asshole cloak and be the man she expected he was.

"Okay. Tell me the rules. I'm happy to be compliant if they don't impede   on my own morals." She gave him a sideways glance, hoping to convey   that the 'no panty' rule didn't apply to her. He looked over at her as a   lovely smile lifted his mouth again.

"I almost pegged you for someone who didn't follow rules. Your demeanor   is on the edge. You look the part and are most certainly intelligent   enough to play it, but something tells me there's more to you than you   let on. Rule-follower isn't something I would label you as."

She laughed, her nervousness at the tone of his voice causing the air to   thicken. It was hard to breathe, and something told her that it wasn't   going to get any easier each and every time the delicious man beside  her  made an appearance.





Chapter 9





The rules were simple, and Damon had barked them out like Bethany was a three-year-old child.

No drama.

No lies.

No complaints.

In all dealings with him, those were the standard he set, and she was to follow the rules like everyone else did.

They sat across from one another at the upscale restaurant, Bethany   watching Damon as he ordered their food and pulled a black napkin into   his lap.

"You didn't even ask me what I wanted to eat."

"Did you want to change the order?" He leaned forward, his gaze heavy and intimidating.

"No, I love crab and could eat cheese until I'm blue in the face."

"Then, hush. You've broken two rules-no drama and no complaints." He   winked at her and she sat back, her hands fiddling uselessly in her lap.   The fact that someone could be so handsome and have so much handed to   him in life and yet be domineering in a master-slave sense was   sickening. He wanted power, and he took it in each and every situation,   from what she could see.

"Don't overanalyze me, Bethany. I'm too complex for you to figure me out   during the first week of your employment." He leaned back, picking up   the glass of white wine that sat before him and taking a long drink. "I   want to talk with you about the interns."

"What about them?"

"Ben is running the program for me, but he has no stamina or courage.   They run all over him, and he often falls short of pushing our   initiatives through to the younger generation, such as yourself." He sat   the wine down, lifting up his finger to tell her to wait a moment.