SECRETS OF A ONE NIGHT STAND: THE BILLIONAIRE'S HIDDEN HEIR

Chapter 1 Olivia Harper sat at the marble-topped bar of the Sapphire Hotel, her fingers curled loosely around the stem of her wine glass. The crimson liquid shimmered under the warm illumination of the chandelier, the quiet murmur of conversation and clinking glasses whirling about her. The city lights beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows blurred into a broken haze; a reflection of the anarchy seething beneath her flesh. She had at rock bottom. One week ago, she had a regular work at Sinclair & Co., a small but respectable position as a marketing associate. Then came the painful layoff, budget cuts, they said. Except Olivia knew the truth. Her supervisor had been seeking for an excuse to cut her go after she denied his not-so-subtle approaches. Two days after that, she spotted her boyfriend, Eric, at their favorite café, the same one where they used to have Sunday breakfast and sitting across from a lady who was not her. The smile on his lips, the comfortable way he leaned toward the other woman, the way their hands touched across the table… it was all too familiar. And now, with her money running dangerously thin and the rent for her little Midtown apartment hovering over her head, Olivia was out of options. She put the glass to her lips, taking a long sip. The wine was pricey; way more than she could afford but she couldn’t force herself to care. If she was going down, she might as well enjoy the fall. “Rough night?” The husky voice slipped over her skin like dark velvet. She turned her head and nearly lost how to breathe. He sat beside her; tall, dark, and sinfully attractive. His clean black suit fit him wonderfully, hugging the sharp lines of his broad shoulders and slim frame. Tousled dark hair fell over his forehead, and piercing green eyes cut through the faint lighting, focussing exclusively on her. Nathan Blackwood. She recognized him quickly. Billionaire CEO of Blackwood Industries. Ruthless. Brilliant. Untouchable. His face was splashed across business journals and financial news pieces routinely. He was the kind of man whose presence turned heads the instant he entered a room, the kind of man women spoke about in quiet, respectful tones. He shouldn’t have been speaking to her. “I’ve had better weeks,” Olivia remarked, her voice rougher than she intended. Nathan’s stare remained on her, analysing her like she was a riddle he planned to solve. “I imagine so,” he murmured, his mouth twisting into the smallest hint of a smile. She arched a brow. “What makes you so sure?” “You’ve had three glasses of wine, and you’re sitting here alone looking like you’d rather burn the house down than go home.” Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “And what? You make a habit of examining lonely women at bars?” Nathan’s smile deepened. “Only the intriguing ones.” A flicker of irritation flared in her chest but beneath it, something else. A worrisome flutter low in her tummy. “I’m not seeking for company,” Olivia stated coolly. “Then why haven’t you walked away?” Her breath hitched. Nathan leaned forward slightly, his elbow resting on the edge of the bar, the heat of his body cutting through the frigid air. The aroma of him, faint, woodsy, with a tinge of spice wound around her senses, making it hard to think. “Let me get you another drink,” he said. She paused. Every logical instinct shouted at her to go away. This was Nathan Blackwood; the man was nearly royalty in the corporate world. She couldn’t afford to get involved up in anything like this. But as Nathan’s palm stroked hers, a light touch, purposeful, her pulse surged. “What’s the harm in one more?” he replied softly. Olivia’s lips parted. Run, her thoughts whispered. But her body leaned closer. “Fine.” Nathan beckoned the bartender with a flick of his hand. Within seconds, two fresh glasses of wine were presented before them. Olivia scooped up hers, stirring the liquid. “So,” she said. “Are you in the habit of gathering damaged women?” Nathan’s gaze sharpened. “I wouldn’t call you broken.” “Oh? What would you call me?” Nathan leaned closer, his green eyes intense and gleaming. “Dangerous.” Olivia’s breath stalled. “You don’t know anything about me.” “I know you’re dangerous because you’re at the edge,” Nathan added quietly. “And women at the edge have nothing left to lose.” Her stomach twisted. He wasn’t wrong. Nathan’s palm slipped over the back of hers, his fingers warm and firm. Olivia should have pulled away. Instead, her attention went to his mouth, the sculpted curve of it, the passion smouldering beneath his cool demeanour. “Come upstairs with me,” Nathan urged. His voice was dark silk, his eyes flaming with intent. Her heart thundered cruelly in her chest. “This is a lousy idea,” she muttered. “Probably,” Nathan agreed. “But it’s not the worst decision you’ll ever make.” Her breath caught. His eyes seared into her, waiting. Against every logical impulse, against the part of her that still had enough sense to protect herself, Olivia agreed. Nathan stood, extending a hand. Without really knowing why, Olivia put her palm into his. His hold was firm, sure, the heat of his palm shooting right up her arm. He took her through the hotel’s huge lobby. The sound of her shoes clicking against the marble floor seemed unnaturally loud in her ears. Nathan said nothing as they went inside the gilded elevator. He keyed in the penthouse floor, the doors sliding shut with a low hiss. Olivia’s pulse thumped hard as the elevator climbed. “This isn’t who I am,” she muttered. Nathan turned to her, his stare dark. “Maybe that’s the point.” The elevator opened with a gentle chime. Nathan took her hand and guided her along the dimly lighted hallway. He inserted a key card through the door lock, the light flashing green. Inside, the penthouse was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the magnificent Manhattan skyline. Sleek leather furniture and dark wood accents filled the space, lit only by the city lights pouring through the glass. Nathan’s jacket fell from his shoulders, sliding into a neighbouring chair. Olivia stood frozen as he traversed the room toward her, his gaze never leaving her face. “I should go,” she muttered. “Do you want to?” Her breath hitched. Nathan’s fingers rose to her jaw, his thumb skimming across her cheekbone. “Olivia,” he murmured quietly. She closed her eyes. The sound of her name in his mouth was too much. Too hazardous. “I don’t know how to stop,” she muttered. Nathan’s mouth twisted faintly. “Then don’t.” His lips brushed against hers; gentle, seeking. Olivia’s resolve crumbled. She grasped the front of his shirt, bringing him closer. Nathan snarled softly, his arms wrapping around her waist. He deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair as his mouth seized hers totally. Olivia’s knees buckled. Nathan’s arm tightened around her, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Her back smacked the wall, his body crushing into hers. Heat raced dangerously through her veins, and Olivia gave in to it; gave in to the crash and burn. But behind the fire and need, Olivia felt it…the tug of something deeper. Something harmful. And as Nathan’s mouth glided over hers, she had the strong and scary impression that whatever was starting between them… It wouldn’t end without blood.