Her Guardian Billionaire (Forbidden First Time Romance) Read online

  HER GUARDIAN BILLIONAIRE

  Belle Chastain

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2014 by Belle Chastain. Cover and internal design © by Belle Chastain. Cover image copyright © Depositphotos.com/danielkrol85 2014.

  All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The use of stock photo images in this e-book in no way imply that the models depicted personally endorse, condone, or engage in the fictional conduct depicted herein, expressly or by implication. The person(s) depicted are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.

  This book is for sale to mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit situations and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store this e-book where it cannot be accessed by minors.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title

  Copyright

  About Her Guardian Billionaire

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak!

  About Belle Chastain

  ABOUT HER GUARDIAN BILLIONAIRE

  by Belle Chastain

  Bound by law, tied up in lust.

  I’ve had more women bound and begging me to take them than I can count. But she’s the only one I can’t forget. The one I shouldn’t want. My ward. My obligation. My forbidden desire. And the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Taking what I want will ruin us both. But I can’t let her go.

  He was my guardian for years. Strong, powerful, devastatingly sexy. It’s scandalous and wicked, but I want him. Binding my arms above my head, covering my eyes in black silk, giving me a first time I’ll never forget. Now that I’m twenty-one, I should walk away. But I can’t. I’m already tied to the bed.

  WARNING: This is a story of forbidden love and attraction between a young woman and her legal guardian. No relations between blood relatives are depicted in this story. All persons in this story are consenting adults over the age of eighteen.

  Excerpt:

  “I don’t think I know you at all, Anna.”

  “I want you to. I want you to know all of me.”

  He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged until she crashed into him, chest pressing into his, belly rubbing up against the unmistakable erection inside his pants. Tightening his grip, he ground his hips into hers and she moaned out loud. He wanted her. His hard cock proved it.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely.”

  Before she could say another word, something flicked against her leg. What the—? Anna glanced down and choked back a gasp. The riding crop. James ran it up her inner thigh with his free hand, flicking it against her skin in little bursts, tickling instead of hitting.

  A shiver coursed through her body and Anna leaned into him, rubbing against him as she forced herself to breathe.

  “So tell me, are you frightened?” He edged it higher, flicking between her legs a little harder every time.

  “A bit.”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. God, no.” She wanted him to bend her over, rip her panties off and take her right there.

  “Good.” He let her wrist go and she stepped back, swallowing a lump of excitement as another wave of arousal washed over her. He stared at her—the deep brown of his eyes alive and dangerous. “Bend over, grab the column.”

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  CHAPTER ONE

  “MISS ANNA, YOUR clothes are ready.”

  Dropping the curtain, Anna turned from the window and glanced at the bed. A blue silk sheath the same color as her eyes graced the top, waiting for her. She blew out a thick breath and fought back the urge to sob. Be nice and smile.

  Turning up the corners of her mouth, she gave it her best shot. “Thanks, Malcolm. It’s splendid.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No, you’ve done so much already. I just couldn’t—” Anna’s voice faltered, and she forced a swallow. You have to get it together. James’s face flooded her mind—stern, disapproving and fatally handsome—and she shuddered.

  The butler gave her a pat on the arm and a brief squeeze. “It’s okay. I understand. Turning twenty-one is a huge event in every woman’s life. Especially yours.”

  Anna ran her teeth over her lip and nodded. She wanted to run into the butler’s arms and hug him like she used to, but she stayed still. He’d always picked her up after she fell and hugged away a bruise. The closest friend she’d had as a child.

  It didn’t matter that James paid for his services, or that he’d never had a family of his own. Malcolm cared for her, and she cared for him. That didn’t go away despite boarding school and college. But he wouldn’t understand the ache inside her chest. No one would.

  “You have the right to be happy, miss. But you have to make it happen.”

  Rolling back on her heels, she opened her mouth to respond when he waved her off with a pat of his hand. “I’m sorry, don’t mind me. A bit sentimental, I guess. If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to it.” Letting go of Anna’s arm, the butler stepped away and gave her a small nod.

  She’d never forget him. “Yes. Thank you, Malcolm. For everything.”

  Anna turned back to the window as he strode out of the room. In a few short hours, she’d be leaving. Never to see Malcolm, the rest of the staff, or James Davenport again.

  A pang of regret hit her in the chest and she gripped the curtain so hard the rod trembled above her head. It wasn’t the money, the lavish estate, or the education Anna would miss. It was her guardian. The man who’d taken her in when she had no one and nothing. And who was about to usher her out the same way.

  Pulling the fabric aside, she scanned the grassy hills, searching for a smart rider on a sleek black horse. The man who’d swooped in and given her a butler, cooks, chauffeurs. A top ranked college education. Everything but himself. The one man who made her pulse gallop with a nod and her panties dampen with a smile.

  She knew the agreement—the one he’d signed with great fanfare in front of legions of reporters. She’d be his ward until she turned twenty-one and then she’d be on her own. Little Orphan Anna they’d all nicknamed her. Plucked from the grips of tragedy to live a life of luxury. A chance to want for nothing, be denied nothing, except the one thing she wanted. Him.

  God, it was wrong. He’d never been a father figure, but he was her legal guardian. To want him, to dream about his firm chest pressing up against her in the dark, his lips ravaging her bare skin—it was scandalous. She inhaled in a rush as a throb echoed through her core.

  She didn’t know when it started—the lust and longing—but every day it grew. She’d tried to drown it with lackluster kisses behind the dorm in boarding school, dates in college. But no immature, unsure boy ever held a candle to James.

  And as the weeks marched on, and her birthday approached, the unsatisfied need
mixed with dread. She’d be leaving—moving on with her life, starting fresh without him. Driving down to the city, moving into a campus apartment, starting graduate school. In few short hours, she’d walk out the door and be a nobody again. Just plain Anna Sinclair, orphan.

  A movement out the window caught her eye and she gasped. He was there—poised on the back of his stallion like a damn prince charming, head pointed toward her window. Anna’s pulse quickened, and the curtain shook with her trembling hand. He was staring at her. She knew it.

  Without thinking, she reached out—hand palming the glass, lips parted in anticipation—waiting for him to rescue her. But she wasn’t a princess and James Davenport wasn’t a savior. He spurred his horse on with a flick of his crop and disappeared without so much as a nod.

  I need to grow up. The curtain fell back into place and Anna bent to pick up the dress. She slipped out of her robe and put it on, zipping it up and tucking away her ragged emotions. Grace and dignity. That’s what he’ll see. With a deep breath, she picked up her purse, turned off the light and shut the door on her life.

  The chauffeur waited outside the black Bentley with a smile stuck on his face.

  “Your bags are in the trunk, miss. Are you ready to leave?”

  Anna nodded and handed him the final bag. “Thank you.”

  She slipped into back as the chauffeur placed the bag in the trunk. This is it. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the seat, breathing in the scent of sumptuous leather for the last time. Goodbye upstate New York, hello NYU. Any other woman in her position would be thrilled. Starting her life, out on her own—finally—but she couldn’t shake the sense of loss.

  “Miss? Are you all right?”

  Anna shook her head and opened her eyes, squinting into the open door. “Malcolm? Is that you?”

  “Yes, miss. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “No, I’m just…leaving.”

  “Yes, I know. And I’m sorry to delay you, but Mr. Davenport asked that I give you this.” Her old friend held out a white envelope, and Anna frowned.

  “Okay. Um, thanks.” She took it and set it on her lap before giving Malcolm a nod.

  “Miss? Mr. Davenport would like you to read it now, please.” He gave her a small bow, and she sighed. James couldn’t even be bothered to tell her goodbye, but she had to read his letter while sitting in the driveway? What could it be?

  She opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of thick cardstock. Is this an invitation? She wrinkled her nose and began to read.

  Anna,

  Please join me for drinks in honor of your birthday tonight. Eight o’clock in the wine cellar. I hope you enjoy your present.

  James

  She turned it over and looked around, eyes darting in confusion. What present?

  “Miss? Mr. Davenport also asked that I give you this.” He held out a slim, black velvet box, and Anna took it with shaking fingers. He never sent gifts. And he never invited her to anything.

  She opened the lid and all thoughts disappeared. A platinum necklace sat inside, with the largest diamond pendant she’d ever seen. It hung from the chain like a ripe pear, luscious and sparkling. It had to cost a fortune. And he wanted her to have it?

  Anna opened her mouth to speak as she glanced up at Malcolm, but no words came out. He smiled and gave her a nod.

  “Can I help you out of the car, miss?”

  “I…I guess so. Yes. Thank you, Malcolm.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Anna. I’ll let Mr. Davenport know to be expecting you.”

  “Y—yes. Please.” Anna stepped away from the car and glanced up at the house.

  “Oh, and miss? I’d wear something…nice.”

  Anna glanced at the trunk and back at Malcolm. “Everything is packed. Should I bring it back inside?”

  “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.”

  “Thank you, Malcolm.” Anna watched as the butler spoke to the chauffeur before disappearing inside. In moments, the car had driven away and she was alone. She stood in the driveway, staring up at the mansion she’d lived in, but never called home. James was in there somewhere. And in a few short hours, she’d be sitting across from him, drinking a glass of wine and trying not to lose herself in his brown eyes.

  Somehow, she didn’t think she’d succeed.

  James tightened his navy tie and smoothed the silk beneath his jacket. Nagging whispers crept into his mind and he frowned at his reflection. He never doubted anything. Except Anna.

  For years, she’d been an afterthought. The girl he’d plucked out of desperation in an effort at damage control. The girl who his security guard orphaned with a stray bullet two days before Christmas. He’d needed to do something to show his company’s compassion and dedication. To turn the focus off his business and onto his charity. Maintain the image.

  He’d given her everything money could buy—new clothes, books, wait staff—and shipped her off to boarding school. The simplest way to wash his hands of it all and go back to his solitary existence.

  She’d come back in the summers, of course—a gangly teenager he never even noticed. A mouse of a thing who kept to herself and left him alone. The way it should be.

  But then she grew up. Graduated college at twenty with a body no man could resist. Rich chestnut hair, pouty pink lips, and hips that screamed dominate me. And he wanted to. All night long.

  Legal status be damned, he couldn’t stop imagining her. Blindfolded, bent over, begging for him to take her again and again. Her back arching in need, lips whispering his name as he claimed her for his own.

  If she were any other woman—a stranger he’d met on the street, an employee, shit, even a maid—he’d just take what he wanted. But not his ward. Not a woman he’d taken in as an awkward teen, even if he didn’t raise her. He ran a hand through his brown hair, tucking an errant strand behind his ear.

  He should have sent her away. Ushered her out the door like he’d promised all those years ago and been done with it. But he couldn’t. Not without saying goodbye.

  Turning away from the mirror, he buttoned his suit and took a deep breath. Drinks. One night to talk, smile, drink champagne and flush her out of his system for good. Then he’d be able to breathe.

  Stepping into the hall, he gave his butler a smile. So attentive. “Malcolm.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Ensure that we’re not disturbed. No calls, no interruptions.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  James strode down the hall, tugging his shirt sleeves out of his jacket as his shoes echoed on the marble. The wine cellar sat on the opposite end of the house, and the walk afforded him time to prepare. By the time he pushed the thick wood door open, he’d composed himself.

  Or so he thought. Damn it to hell. Anna stood by the table, teeth digging into her plump, pink lip as she drummed her fingers on the table. The necklace he’d given her nestled between the swell of her breasts and his dick twitched as he thought of taking its place.

  A black dress hugged her curves, and a pair of stiletto heels stretched her legs for miles. She was all woman. And spectacular. “The necklace suits you.”

  She gasped and looked up, black lashes fluttering against her cheeks. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Davenport. Thank you for this—it’s beautiful.”

  “James. Call me James.”

  She nodded, and he motioned to the waiting chair. “Sit. The champagne’s waiting.”

  “You know I’m not twenty-one for a few hours yet.”

  “I’m not counting. Are you?”

  She shook her head, slid onto the seat, and James did the same. After spreading his napkin in his lap, he lifted the bottle from the chiller.

  He filled two glasses and raised his. “To your twenty-first birthday.”

  With a brief smile, Anna raised the glass to her lips and drank. The bubbles slipped past her pout, disappeared down her throat, and James almost groaned out loud. Mmm. To be that champagne.

  As she set down the glass, she pre
ssed her lips together and glanced at the table.

  “What is it?” Holding back was easy to spot.

  “Oh—it’s just…Why did you invite me here? And give me this?” She stroked the necklace, running her fingers up and down the chain like a snake charmer from across the world. Mesmerizing.

  “It’s your birthday. I thought drinks and a present were in order.”

  “You’ve never given me a present before. You’ve never even said happy birthday before. Why the change?” Her green eyes rose up to meet his, and he had to look away. When she put it like that, he sounded despicable.

  “Yes. Well, I’m here now. Happy birthday.” James took another sip of champagne and leaned back in the chair, looping an arm over the seat as he commanded his body to still. Women didn’t fluster him, damn it. “So, tell me. What are your plans post-college?”

  Anna scrunched her eyebrows and set the glass down. “I’m attending NYU. A Ph.D. Program in Psychology.”

  James cocked his head to the side. “Ambitious. And what would be your focus?”

  She gave him a tight smile and focused on the bubbles in her glass. “Well, to be honest, I’d like to explore tragedy. How it shapes people’s lives, transforms them. For some, it gives purpose, for others…the opposite. I want to know why.”

  James swallowed a mouthful of champagne and frowned. “Haven’t you had enough tragedy in your own life? Why do you need to examine other people’s grief?”

  She jerked her head up and a flash of emotion sparked in her eyes. “I want to help them. If there’s a way to ease the hurt and anguish, I want to discover it.”

  James snorted and poured them both a new glass. “There’s no way to shortcut time, Anna.”

  “So that’s it, hmm? Time is all people need to heal old wounds and learn to live again? Well, then, you should be an expert at it.”