Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part One (BWWM Romance Serial) Read Online Free Page B

why it mattered
what Jada, someone he’d never even met, thought about his office. But it did.
Her opinion most certainly mattered.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    CATHY OPENED THE DOOR TO Ian’s office and beckoned Jada to
enter. Jada squared her shoulders, smoothed down the front of her skirt in a
nervous gesture and bravely walked into the glistening lair of the billionaire
dragon himself, the great and mighty Ian Buckley.
    The first thing that struck her was the size of the office.
It was huge, half the size of her house, she figured. It was all masculine
power-play, deep, rich colors with leather furniture, satiny wood paneling and
plush carpets over inlaid flooring. A light scent of Asian spices filled the
air.
    There were floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of the
room, banks of flat screen TVs on another wall, and several towering
bookshelves on the fourth. Some oil paintings were hung around the place, none
of which she recognized, not being into art herself. She knew quality when she
saw it, however, and this was quality squared.
    There were several closed doors leading to who knew what, a
sitting area with black leather furniture, a gleaming bar with a small
kitchenette behind it, and of course, a goliath of a desk. His desk. Ian. The
man who controlled a veritable empire from this very room.
    Her heart fluttered. There he was, the man himself, standing
big as life by the sitting area. She took him in, all six and a half feet of
him. Well, this was something she hadn’t expected: he was even better looking
in real life than in his pictures.
    An aura emanated from him, power shimmering in the air. It
was both enthralling and intimidating. She’d never experienced such energy.
    This man was special, the aura said. Important. Different. More .
    She realized that he was studying her as closely as she was
him. His gaze was intent, his eyes eerily sharp, like they saw through her to
... what? She was imagining things. He was just a rich man, not a god.
    Spell broken, she stepped forward. “Mr. Buckley,” she said,
holding out her hand.
    He stepped forward and took her hand in his. She wondered if
he felt the same buzz that she did when they touched. Tiny goosebumps rose on
her arms. He had a woodsy, comforting scent.
    “I’m pleased to meet you, Ms. Howarth. And call me Ian.
This,” he gestured to the man standing beside him, a man around Ian’s age, with
sandy hair, trim and fit in an expensive suit that could have used a steam,
“this is Sullivan Collins, my head counsel.”
    A lawyer, huh? Jada shook his hand, too, and noted there was
no buzz between them. Good to know it was specific to Ian, and not a symptom of
a more serious condition, something like buzz-hand syndrome.
    She told them both to call her Jada, and was soon seated in
one of the cushiony leather chairs. Ian sent Carol for coffee.
    Jada perched on the end of her chair, knees pressed together
demurely, hands clasped lightly in front of her on top of her small purse, just
as her mother had taught her. She hoped she looked calmer than she felt.
    Ian’s eyes, which were bright blue just as Jada had
imagined, sparkled at her. He seemed strangely pleased about something, though
she couldn’t think why this should be so, it being an altogether weird day of
the highest magnitude.
    “How was the ride into the city?” Ian asked. “I trust
everything went well.”
    “Oh, yes. It was fine. It was a convoy, with extra cars in
front and back. I felt like the president. The paparazzi didn’t stand a
chance.”
    “Good, good. The press can be a bunch of vipers.”
    “My sister’s a reporter.”
    That gave him pause. “My mistake. I should have said ‘some’
of the press can be vipers.”
    Jada took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m
nervous. I really, really want to know what’s going on. Are you behind all of
this craziness? And if you are, why?”
    Sullivan leaned forward, his handsome face severe. “No,
Jada. We’re as taken by