Billionaire Seeking Bride #3 (BBW Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read online

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” I murmured.

  “Are you Brid?” a voice spoke up.

  I jumped to attention and spun around to find a burly man in a dirty blue mechanics suit. He was a foot taller than me and his body was a good two hundred pounds of muscle. His face sported a brown, grizzled beard, and his eyes were dark and stern.

  “That’s me,” I replied.

  “You’re late. Our interview started five minutes ago,” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry. I was almost-”

  “Don’t waste my time with excuses,” he barked.

  I stood at attention and stiffened. “Sorry I was late.”

  “That’s better, now come into my office,” he ordered me.

  I had a feeling he only spoke in orders, so I quickly followed him down the hall to the fourth door on the left. That was his office. It was a large room with an assortment of broken mops, spare metal desks, and a miscellaneous assortment of chairs. One of the desk sat near the door. He took a seat behind that one and gestured to a chair in front of it.

  “Take a seat,” he commanded. I sat down and tried not to look as uncomfortable as I felt. Bruin leaned over the desk and scrutinized me. “So you think you’ve got what it takes to do the job?”

  “I’m willing to try,” I replied.

  “Trying means you end up splattered on the sidewalk. You have to win at this job,” he warned me. The picture in my mind wasn’t pretty, but I straightened and stared him straight in the eyes.

  “I can do this. I’m not afraid of heights, and I can lift eighty pounds,” I assured him.

  Bruin leaned back and frowned. “I’ll be straight up with you. I don’t want a woman working as a window washer.”

  I scowled at him. “What’s that-” He held up his hand.

  “I’m not singling you out, Miss Brid. I know the job, and I know a lot of guys can’t handle the physical strain. That means even fewer women can. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who’s applied for the job, so that means I have to consider you.” He rubbed his chin with one hand and his eyes took on a bright look to them. “But like your spunk. Most people come in here expecting an easy ride and come out crying. You did the opposite, so I’ll make you a deal. I’ll try you out today, right now, and if we think you can do it then I’ll hire you on the spot.”

  I grinned and gestured to my clothes. “Then I’m ready.”

  He stood and smiled. “Good. Oh, before we go anywhere you need to sign this.” He pulled out a stained piece of paper and a grimy pen, and slid them over to me.

  I looked between the paper and him. “What is it?”

  “You tell me,” he returned.

  I glanced over the text. “‘Insurance Liability Waiver,’” I read aloud.

  “If something happens to you today I don’t want some insurance asshole bothering me about it,” he explained.

  I shook my head and leaned away. “I don’t know-”

  “If you don’t sign it then you better just leave,” he snapped.

  I frowned at him, but signed my soul to the devil and slid the paper back. He filed it in one of the desk drawers and stood. “Now let’s get you on the scaffolding and see how you do with working at the heights this building has.”

  3

  Bruin led me out of his office and down to the end of the hall. There was a fire escape stairwell there, and he marched me up the stairs.

  “We start at the roof so no idiots can get on the scaffolding from the ground and get themselves killed showing off to their friends,” he told me as we climbed the stairs.

  “Can’t we take the elevator?” I asked him.

  He stopped and turned to me with a frown. “You getting tired?”

  I sprang to attention and shook my head. “No, just wondering.”

  “Good.” We resumed our climb. “As for your question, maintenance is discouraged from taking the elevators because we don’t want our clients getting muddy. It’s bad for business,” he explained. “If you have something heavy you can use the express elevator, but you’re body’s not heavy, got it?”

  “Got it,” I gasped.

  We climbed twenty floors until we hit the roof. The scaffolding sat over the edge with a small ladder that led onto the platform. Ropes led from a rigging system on the roof and down to the four corners of the platform. The platform was surrounded by a railing made of heavy metal bars and a thick mesh of wire strong enough to support even Bruin. There was a small control panel on the side farthest away from the ladder that operated the ropes to make the platform move up or down, or left or right.

  The ground was several hundred feet below the scaffolding. One false step and there’d be plenty of time to contemplate your mistake.

  Bruin leaned over the side and pointed at the equipment.

  “There’s your pulleys, ropes, buckets, wipers, and a one-size-fits-all safety harness that straps you to multiple ropes in case one breaks,” he told me. “Don’t bounce, dance, swing, or run across the platform. You stay in one spot unless one of the ropes breaks, got it?”

  “Got it,” I replied.

  “Good. Now let’s climb down, get ourselves strapped in, and see what happens,” he suggested.

  Bruin climbed down first and helped me from the ladder onto the platform. It was three feet wide, fifteen feet long, and rocked a little if anyone moved. Bruin strapped me into an upper-body harness and did likewise with himself. He grabbed a long pole with a squeegee on the end and pushed it into my hands.

  “We finish one floor at a time starting from the top of the window and up. This is to reach the corners of the taller windows. Seeing as you’re short, you’re going to need it,” he commented. He moved to the far end and grabbed a lever on the control panel. “Hold on to the bar behind you.”

  I turned and saw that the bar behind me had a terrifying view of the streets below. Bruin pulled the lever and the platform lowered. We left the ladder behind and descended to the top-most floor of the building.

  I gripped the bar tight as Bruin walked across the platform and plopped a bucket of sudsy water at my feet.

  “The first rule is don’t stare into the offices,” he told me. “The second rule is don’t drop your bucket. We’ve got insurance, but I hate filling out the paperwork.”

  “Right,” I agreed as I slowly turned around.

  Bruin told me not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. This office was huge. The square footage was more than my entire apartment. There was an oak desk near the window with a black, high-backed chair between the desk and the glass. The floor was of the finest wood and shone to a slick, homicidal shine. There were tall, green plants in the far right corner and expensive Oriental rugs were strewn about the floor. On the left-hand wall was a pair of black doors. I glanced past Bruin at those windows, but dark shades hid that space.

  “Now you start on that side and I’ll take this one, and we’ll see how you do,” he commanded me.

  I started the scrubbing with my staff. It wasn’t easy getting bird poop, smog, and dust specks off the glass, but somehow I managed to make it shine. Bruin stopped his scrubbing and looked over my job.

  “You call that a shine? Put some more elbow grease into it,” he snapped.

  My shoulders fell, but I got back to scrubbing. Up to then our little work had been spectator-free, but the doors to the office opened and in stepped none other than my elevator mate, the Handsome Stranger. He noticed me a split second after I saw him, and his face lit up with that mischievous smile of his.

  The man closed the door and strolled over to the desk. He picked up some mail on one of the corners and flipped through, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. The familiar heat from before swept over me, covering me in sweat that beat out the fear I had for this job. I scrubbed harder in the hopes that we could move to another set of windows.

  It turns out my strange infatuation with the handsome stranger was the least of my worries.

  “All right. That’s enough,”
Bruin called out to me. He dropped his hand-scrubber and looked over my work. I stepped back and tried not to pay attention to the man behind the glass. “Not bad. How ya feeling way up here?”

  “It’s fine,” I assured him.

  “Good. Then the job’s yours if you want it,” he told me.

  I inwardly sighed. I didn’t want the job, but I could hear my empty bank account screaming at me to take it and save its depleted stock. My eyes flitted towards the glass and I caught sight of the handsome suited man as he took a seat in his plush chair. At least one of the views would be interesting.

  “I’ll take it.”

  “All right. We’ll get your paperwork all together in my office and-” Bruin flipped the lever and the platform shuddered.

  I stumbled against the rear bar and whipped my head to him.

  “What was that?” I yelled.

  “Just some trouble with the mechanics. These dang things aren’t built like they used to,” he explained. “We just need to give it another try and-” He pulled the lever again and one of the ropes above us snapped.

  My half of the platform fell a half foot so the whole thing was angled. I let out a scream as my legs slid out from under me and towards the downward side. Bruin grasped the panel and planted his feet on the platform which only made the whole thing rock worse.

  “Hold on! I’m coming to you!” he shouted.

  “Please don’t move!” I yelled back.

  I heard a noise beside me from the building and looked to see one of the large window panes slide open. The handsome stranger leaned out and held out his hand to me.

  “This way! Both of you!” he instructed us.

  Bruin carefully stepped down the platform and I crawled the two feet to him. I grabbed his hand and he pulled me inside. Bruin was close behind. I unconsciously collapsed in his chair while Bruin leaned against the firm wall beside the tall windows.

  “That was a close one,” Bruin commented as he wiped his brow.

  “I thought the whole thing would give way,” the stranger commented.

  Bruin straightened and shook his head. “Not those ropes, Mr. Masc. One snapping isn’t too uncommon, but not all of them.”

  I perked up at the mention of the name. David Masc. The owner and CEO of the company.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re all right, anyway,” Masc commented. He turned to me and nodded at a cooler on his desk. “There’s water in there, and if you need something stiffer I can get you anything you want.”

  I shook my head. “I-I’m fine.” Everything but my hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “I’m sorry about the whole thing, Mr. Masc. It was my fault taking her up there like that. She’s new and it was her first time on the platform,” Bruin told him.

  “It was an accident. It might have been worse if two heavy men had been on there,” Masc pointed out.

  “Well, we’d better be getting out of your way and writing out the reports,” Bruin commented.

  “Let the lady stay. I don’t think you want to carry her back to your office,” Masc joked.

  Bruin glanced at me. “You fine with that?”

  I gave him a shaky smile. “I think my legs are definitely fine with that.”

  “All right.” He walked towards the door, but paused at the side of the desk closest to the chair and turned to me. “You did pretty good for your first time. If you still want the job, it’s yours.”

  “I’ll think it over, but I’m leaning towards yes,” I told him.

  He actually smiled, gave a nod, and left. I let out a shaky breath and rubbed my arms with my hands.

  “You’re sure you won’t take that stiff drink?” Masc asked me.

  I shook my head. “Drinking under stress isn’t my thing.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he commented. He took a seat on the corner of the desk closest to me and looked me over. I blushed under his scrutiny. “Bruin’s right, you know. About how you took it. Some people would have been too scared to crawl across the platform to me.”

  I shrugged. “I figured it was better than being out there.”

  He smiled. “You know, my company hasn’t treated you to a good start, but I’d like to finish off your day on a high note,” he explained.

  I snorted and some of the fright left me. “I think I hit enough high notes out there.”

  He smiled. “That was a pretty impressive operatic concert, but I prefer my employees to have their feet on something more solid.”

  I stood and shook my head. “I don’t know if I’ll be your employee for long, Mr. Masc. I. . .I just don’t know if I can go out there again.”

  “Then you have to let me treat you tonight. Think of it as a farewell dinner,” he insisted. “And please, call me David.”

  I risked a look into his eyes. They were soft and pleading. My refusal died on my lips.

  “I guess I could let you make it up to me somehow,” I agreed.

  He smiled. “Good. How does six sound?”

  “Like it’ll work. And speaking of work, I think I’ve had enough for one day and I hear my couch calling me,” I commented. I quickly moved past him and towards the door.

  “Wait!” he called. I hesitated with my hand hovered over the handle. “I haven’t even caught your name.”

  “It’s Susan Brid,” I told him.

  “Then I’ll see you tonight, Susan Brid,” he replied.

  I hurried out of the office, down the elevator, and escaped to my apartment where I looked forward to a long candle-lit evening of those handsome brown eyes.

  4

  I admit I was a little nervous when I stepped out of the taxi that fateful night. My stupid high-heels Grace insisted I wear made me stumble across the sidewalk to the lit lobby.

  “Way to try to kill me. . .” I muttered.

  The doors were unlocked, and I clacked my way across the lobby to the front desk. A single security guard sat at the watch. He smiled at me and gestured to the special elevator side off from the others. Their doors were open.

  “You’re expected,” he told me.

  I smiled and nodded at him, and walked into the elevator. It took me up to the top floor, and the ding sounded ominously loud as the doors opened and I stepped out. There was the long walk to down the hall to David’s office. The doors were shut, so I knocked.

  “Come in,” David called.

  I stepped inside and looked around. The lights were dimmed and David’s familiar personage leaned against one corner of the desk. His attire was plain slacks and a white polo shirt. He straightened and walked over to me.

  “You’re early,” he commented as he closed the door behind me.

  “Fashionably late is out of fashion,” I returned.

  He stepped back and looked me over. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “You look better with overalls,” he teased.

  “And you look better in a suit,” I retorted. I looked over his casual attire and frowned. “So what restaurant are we going to? McDonalds?”

  “Actually, I thought we’d stay here,” he told me as he removed my coat.

  My heart quickened. That familiar pulse of heat overtook my body.

  “H-here?” I stuttered.

  “Is there something wrong with that?” he asked me. He set my coat on a nearby table and pulled me over to his desk.

  “I-I don’t see how we can eat here. There’s no food,” I pointed out.

  “I was thinking maybe we’d have food after a little fun,” he suggested.

  David turned so we faced each other and wrapped his arms around me. His burning eyes scorched my flesh. My body pulsed with sensual desire. I shuddered and tried to push him away. He held tight to me.

  “W-we can’t. I-I work for you, remember?” I told him.

  He smiled. “I remember you saying in the elevator that you wanted a different job, but couldn’t be choosy.”

  I turned my face away. “And I still have those bills to pay,” I agreed.

  “What if I p
aid them for you?” he suggested.

  I raised my head and blinked at him. “What?”

  He laughed. “I know you’re not that stupid. I’m asking you to

  I frowned. “Now who’s the one being foolish? We just met this morning. You’ll probably be tired of me by tomorrow morning.”

  His smile slipped off his lips and his eyes bored into mine. “Can you look into my eyes and really believe that I’d do that to you?”

  “I-I don’t know what to think,” I replied.

  “Then stop thinking and start feeling,” he suggested. “What does your heart tell you?”

  “It. . .it’s telling me I’m an idiot and that I should believe you,” I told him.

  He smiled. “Then I’d trust that one because you’ve got your heart in the right place.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because it’s what you-” He leaned down and captured my lips in a hot, passionate kiss.

  The heat inside my body boiled over. All my self-restraint flew out the window. There was no more doubt, no more second-guessing or put-downs. He wanted me, all of me, and I would give that to him for the love he offered.

  One of his hands dipped into the back of my dress and toyed with my bra straps as he pressed our bodies closer together. I could feel the size of his manhood through the thin cloth of my dress. He was hot and stiff. I was hot and wet. We needed each other, lusted for each other like lovers in the throes of our first love.

  His hand undid my bra clasps while his other hand slid up the front of my dress and cradled one of my aching breasts in his palm. I groaned and pressed myself into his soft, gentle hold. All day I’d longed for him to touch me, to hold me, to seduce me, and I reveled in the feel of his doing just that.

  He broke our kiss and left a blazing path down my neck. I moaned and pawed at his clothes. I wanted to feel his hot skin against mine. He chuckled and swept me into his arms.

  “Impatient, my little kitten?” he teased.

  I smiled and shrugged. “Just a little.”

  “I have just the remedy for your ills,” he returned.

  He carried me through the twin doors and revealed the space beyond as a bedroom. A large bed with silk sheets sat against the opposite wall. He set me down on those soft sheets and I squirmed atop them. My breasts were swollen with need and the heat between my legs needed quenched.