The Billionaire's Proposal

After getting hired by the Hunter family, as I was literally walking back down the hall in Nick’s penthouse after seeing father and son together for the first time, I remember being struck with a single pervading thought:

I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up with such a man.

Not that Mitchell had much of a hand in actually raising Nick. Like most children born into wealth and privilege, Nick was raised by nannies until he was shipped off to boarding school to grow up with the rest of the future senators, CEO’s, and leaders of the free world.

What few childhood memories he had of Mitchell were few and far between, and despite the rest of his life being an open book, Nick certainly wasn’t sharing.

A few things had slipped out over the years. Things said in rare, unguarded moments of either intoxication or rage. Things that were chilling enough to make my toes curl.

But for the most part, both father and son seemed content to leave the past in the past. It was for the best, too. Aside from a towering height and proclivity for beautiful women and lots of money—the two had been virtual strangers from the start. It was an uneasy truce, but one that had served as the fundamental basis of their relationship for years.

Mitchell lived his life, while Nick was free to live his own. It wasn’t until recently that things had begun to overlap, and despite having worked for the family for a little over two years, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen them together.

That being said, there was still something a little scary about Mitchell—no matter how far removed he might be. Perhaps it was that, even so far away, he was still the only person in the world who could make Nick make that face.

He saw me looking, and quickly smoothed it clear.

“The thing about my dad is...he can always manage to ruin a good day. So let’s not talk about him anymore.” He pushed to his feet, rendering the conversation closed. At first, I thought he was upset—but then he reached down his hand with a tender smile. “And I had a really good day, Abby.”

I beamed back, and let him help me to my feet. According to the clock on the wall, it was already coming up on two in the morning. Had we really been talking that long?

“Me too.”

It wasn’t flattery or exaggeration. Truth be told, it was the best day I could remember having in a long, long time.

“Same thing tomorrow?” I asked, tilting my head with a teasing smile.

Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and stroked a long finger all the way down the length of my face. I froze beneath his hand, shivering as he lingered near my jaw.

Then, as quickly as he’d touched me, he pulled away.

“Actually...how would you feel about something a little different tomorrow?”

“Different?” I repeated, well aware that in Nick’s world, ‘different’ wasn’t exactly limited to this side of the Atlantic. “What did you have in mind?”

He let me hang for only a second, before flashing me a sparkling smile.

“Let me take you out tomorrow...on a date.”

My eyebrows shot up into my hair. We had been on dates before. The other night at the boxing exhibition was technically a date. But dates were for public viewing. They weren’t a random thing the two of us would dec

ide to do. So...was that supposed to be my cue?

“Okay...um...” I pushed back my hair, trying my very best to snap back into business mode. “Where did you want to go? If it’s still within the city limits, I could tip off the press—”

“No press.” He pushed my hands away, and pulled me a step closer. There was just an inch or two of space between us now. I could see every fleck of green in those blue eyes. “No cameras or other people. Just you and me. A date.”

I shook my head blankly, still trying to understand.

“Like...a date, date?”

He grinned, but held back a laugh at my grade-school terminology.

“Yeah, Abby. Like a date, date.”

A date. Go out on a date with Nicholas Hunter.

He watched as I considered, waiting patiently as I turned the phrase over in my mind. No matter which way I looked at it, something didn’t add up.