The Billionaire's Valentine Vixen

The only way to earn my father’s approval and attention was to join him in the pursuit of his version of success, which I did, and I did it well.

As I scan the mess in the kitchen, besides the eggs and flour, the massive black-marble island countertop is full of vases of red and white roses and ten torn-open heart-shaped boxes of chocolates.

What do you get a four-year-old for Valentine’s Day? Fuck if I know, so I took a wild guess. Linnie tore through the chocolate last night and ended up with a stomachache, and when she grabbed at the vases of roses, the thorns pricked her tiny fingers, and I spent the next hour coaxing her to let me put some antibiotic ointment and band aids on them.

I never liked Valentine’s Day anyway. Waste of time and money, if you ask me. I may have enough money to buy a small nation, but I still hate being frivolous.

The doorbell sounds like the chimes of Sunday service at Westminster Abbey and Linnie’s singing stops as I spin back to the hallway leading to the front door. Thank God, it’s got to be Alice to the rescue.

“Is that her?” Linnie asks from her new position halfway down the stairs.

“I hope so.” I give her a tight smile and she signs back something with her hands.

I swallow hard, shaking my head as I drag a hand down my face, reaching for the door with the other and swinging it open.

There’s a rush of blood through my veins. I’m spinning as the ground feels unsteady.

“Hi,” she starts, her full, lush lips making love to those two tiny letters as she scans the outside of the house. “Is this…” She crinkles up her nose, looking up at the thirty-foot high white stucco columns that flank the doorway. “Are you…Roan?”

Yes, the man that’s going to defile you.

Filthy thoughts battle with my usual civility as hot blood lengthens my cock, pressing it outward on the fabric of my trousers.

“I am,” I manage, looking at the snowflakes decorating and then melting into the chocolate-brown waves of perfection that spill out from under a horrible, plaid, Elmer Fudd sort of hunting hat. “You must be Alice.”

“I am. Is this a house? Or an apartment complex? Or a hotel?” Her lips curve upward and mine follow in kind.

“A house. An albatross but a house all the same. Come in.” I step aside and try to silently talk down the erection that’s turning into its own sort of albatross.

My immediate and visceral reaction confuses me a bit as she steps into the foyer and her hypnotic eyes take in the interior. Her dark lashes flutter over eyes that remind me of a tropical lagoon. They’re not quite blue and they’re not completely green and yet they are a mesmerizing blend of both.

“I’m glad you got here safely,” I add as she turns in a slow circle, untwisting the oversized fuzzy rainbow-colored scarf from her neck.

“Me too. Was quite a drive. The tires on my car are so bald I could barely get any traction.”

“Then you need new tires.” I frown, tipping my head to look out the windows on either side of the front door and see the older model beige sedan with a crumpled front quarter panel on the passenger side. “Or a new car.”

“Yeah, well, neither of those are budget friendly right now.”

Then we are going to adjust your budget, I think to myself as I note the worn hem on her navy-blue pee coat.

There’s a purity in her flushed cheeks and an opposing wisdom in her eyes. As she takes another step on the marble floor, her wet rubber boot slips and she nearly falls on her ass. An ass I can’t yet see, but I don’t need to see to know it’s epic.

Again, my thoughts upend me. It’s been how long? Five, ten years? Maybe longer since I’ve had any attraction to a woman or thought of touching someone, and Jesus how I want to touch her.

“Slippery when wet,” she says on a giggle, looking down at the floor. “Pretty, but impractical.”

“Yes, slippery and wet,” I reply my voice deep and thick and she squints, giving me a comical look. “I mean, I see it is. You can take your boots off here if you like.”

I hear a throat clear from the stairway and Alice flips her head toward the sound as she works her rubber boots off her feet.

Before I can introduce Linnie, Alice steps to the bottom of the steps and takes a seat, slipping her coat off and tossing it up onto the curved wooden banister as Linnie stares down from her perch on the step.

“Well, hello. I’m Alice.” She smiles, full and sincere, and I want to see that smile every day for the rest of my life.