Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire by Selena Kitt Read Free Book Online Page A

curled around her fingers at the nape of his neck. “Do you
recommend it?”
    “Well,
it is a private elevator…”
    The
elevator stopped, the doors opening, and Jodie nearly screamed when a man
dressed in a tuxedo met them as they stepped out. Instead, she grabbed Dorian’s
arm, stepping toward him so they were hip to hip. He slid an arm around her
waist.
    “Good
evening, sir.” The tuxedoed man actually gave a little bow. “Can I take your
coat?”
    Oh
my God, he was Batman. He even had an Alfred! Although this Alfred
wasn’t an old man—he was young, probably her age.
    “Hey
Andrew.” Dorian shrugged off his suit coat and handed it over. Okay, Andrew,
not Alfred. But still! “You can have the night off. But first—how about
some food?”
    He
turned to Jodie, eyes questioning. She nodded enthusiastically. She hadn’t
eaten since the dinner buffet and, at the time, she hadn’t been very hungry.
But now she was ravenous.
    “What
do you want? Steak? Burger? Tofu?” Dorian asked, raising his eyebrows at her.
    “No
tofu.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste, asking Andrew, “Do you have waffles?”
    He
nodded. “Best chicken and waffles in the state.”
    “Oh
that sounds awesome!” Now her mouth was watering. “And cupcakes. Do you have
cupcakes?”
    “Yes
we do,” Andrew said.
    “Bring
me a steak.” Dorian loosened his tie. “And some of that lemon cake from the
other night.”
    “Yes,
sir,” Andrew replied. “Anything else?”
    “A
bottle of champagne,” Dorian added, watching Jodie as she started wandering
through the room—which wasn’t so much of a room, or even as suite, as a
freaking apartment. “Chocolate covered strawberries.”
    “Yes,
sir.” Andrew took the elevator down.
    “So
who am I now, Julia Roberts?” she asked as Dorian joined her as she entered the
living area. It had a huge, wraparound red leather couch and she nearly jumped
out of her skin with Dorian flipped a switch and the gas fireplace came to
life.
    “You’re
not a prostitute.” He tossed his tie over the back of the couch. “And I’m no
Richard Gere.”
    Well,
that was true—technically she wasn’t a prostitute. Although she was
starting to feel like one, a little bit.
    “So
what are you doing in Vegas?” Now that she was here, in his room—suite,
penthouse, hotel mansion, whatever you wanted to call it—she felt more
shy, awkward.
    “Business.
Investment opportunity.” He took a seat on the couch in front of the fire.
    “And
gambling.” She couldn’t get over the place. It was huge! And the view of the
strip all lit up out the window was dazzling.
    “On
occasion.” He patted the seat beside him. “I don’t bet more than I can afford
to lose.”
    “You
can afford to lose a lot.” She snorted, taking a seat beside him, smoothing her
hands over her dress and kicking off her shoes. It felt so good to have them
off, she gave a little moan
    “Money?”
He shrugged, sliding an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah.”
    “This
place is…” She looked around, too overwhelmed for words. “You know how amazing
this is right?”
    “It
should be, for forty thousand a night.” He pulled her closer still, his lips
brushing the top of her head.
    Forty-thousand
a night? What was she supposed to say to that?
    “It’s
just you here?”
    “I’m
not that extravagant.” He laughed. “I had over two-hundred people packed in
here last night.”
    Well
that made more sense. Jodie looked out at the view again and saw something she
couldn’t quite believe was real.
    “Is
that… a pool? Oh my God!” She jumped off the couch, running over to the floor
to ceiling windows that, she realized, weren’t all windows. There was a full
glass door leading out to a huge cantilevered pool—it hung right off the
edge of the building! It was all lit up, with a breathtaking view of the
strip. 
    “Want
to take a selfie and send it to your idiot ex from the pool?” Dorian came up
behind her, wrapping his arms around