Exposure_A Stone Billionaire Series Novel Read online

  I like that; I like seeing her natural, like this.

  The version I'm seeing suits her better than she pretended with that “Bexley” farce.

  Her hair is one of her best features, that shade of blonde must be natural, almost platinum, but not quite.

  She is indeed hauntingly beautiful - not the sort of woman that I go for - but the sort of woman that captivates a man.

  I am delighted because I wanted to kiss her the moment I met her, and when she looked at me adoringly, I couldn't help but wonder what we would be like if this were real.

  So, I kissed her.

  And when she was mad at me for wanting to know her real name, she looked so hot, that I kissed her again.

  Sue me.

  There's an attractive woman next to me; I'm not going to pretend she doesn't exist for the sake of compatibility because of this sort of attraction?

  This doesn't come along very often for me, if ever.

  “Hey,” I kiss her again, lightly, my lips pressing against hers, before gently sucking on her bottom lip, which seems to relax her enough that she returns the kiss.

  “It's going to be okay,” I say, trying to reassure her.

  Ava nods, relaxing a bit.

  I turn to the flight attendant.

  “Can you get my fiancée and I two gin and tonics, and a couple of blankets,” I look at her name tag, “Ashley?”

  I give her a friendly smile, and she smiles back.

  “Anything you need, Mr. Winthrop?” she says.

  I stare into her eyes and grin.

  I'm pretty sure she will not leave our side now unless I ask her.

  Or, if the door suddenly flies open...

  Ava laughs the moment I've gotten rid of Ashley.

  “I think she likes you,” teases Ava.

  “I think all women like me. Except you, I'm not sure you like me all that much, Ava,” I say, trying on a relaxed laugh.

  Now that Ava is a bit less nervous, I'm worried that I was maybe feeding off that energy.

  As I wrap an arm around her, trying to comfort her, I put up the armrest, so that I can get closer to her.

  “Flying is just… it's just part of getting to where we need to go,” I tell her.

  “Take off is the worst,” she admits.

  “And it's Bexley. I'm not Ava, remember?” she says, her face serious.

  “Just pretend it's a roller coaster, Ava,” I tell her, ignoring her plea.

  “A rollercoaster in the sky, where you can die,” Ava points out, determined to undermine me as well as correct me.

  “Bexley, you can call me Bex if you want,” she says, deadpan.

  She's apparently scared of flying.

  The point coming from her is valid, about the plane, but not about her name.

  Bex sounds stupid.

  “You can't call me Ava. Ava is who I am. You can't have that if you're going to get what you're asking for,” she whispers.

  She lowers her voice so that we can have our private moment.

  “I'm not going to argue with you here… but I'm not Ava to you,” she says. Her voice is stern.

  “Just think about it,” I ask her, changing the subject. “It's just like a roller coaster.”

  “Again, a roller coaster where you can die,” she says, and I am immediately sorry that I refreshed the image of disaster in her mind.

  “Did you watch … a lot of plane crash movies before takeoff or something?” I ask.

  “No… planes just make me nervous,” she says.

  Ava, (I mean 'Bex'), shivers in my arms.

  And just in time, Ashley the big-breasted flight attendant brings us blankets and our drinks, frowning when she sees us cuddled together.

  I explain that we are engaged, figuring there is no harm in telling anyone this.

  After all, I want to start a rumor to fend off the last one.

  There is nothing worse than people thinking I'm engaged to fame-mongering Rowan.

  I would much rather it be rumored that I was engaged to someone a little more down earth, like Ava.

  But, they are still only harmless rumors, right?

  “Ava, do I make you nervous?” I whisper, once Ashley is gone.

  She was flashing jealous stares at the ring I picked out for Ava, which to my dismay doesn't seem to suit her at all.

  If I could pick again, I'd pick something entirely different.

  My mother’s safety deposit box has countless engagement rings from previous marriages, I grabbed whichever was closest.

  I decide it's pointless to beat myself up about that.

  Ava is still clutching me, the stares from Ashley not having done a thing to comfort her.

  “Yes,” she hisses. “Are you always this persistent?”

  She looks at me, and suddenly I know that her guard is down and that she finds me charming, at least.

  Maybe I'm just annoying to her at worst.

  “Have you had a lot of serious relationships?” she asks, trying to change the subject, as she twists the engagement ring on one of her elegant fingers.

  “No, not really,” I reply.

  It's easy to admit because it's a fact.

  In my line, there are facts, and there's fiction, and I don't see a point in making things up or walking the fine line of not telling the complete truth.

  “I was almost engaged once, but my brother had a way of convincing me that the girl was only out for my family name, and it was true. After that I just… there was never a woman I could trust,” I say.

  “So, you dated Rowan?” Ava asks, with a raised eyebrow.

  I realize that Ava's point is very fair.

  “We were at an after party, for some lingerie show or other. Noah dragged me there, and he introduced us. I was apparently rich and good looking enough for her to give me her number. So, when Noah told me to call her, I thought why the hell not,” I explain.

  I paused, reflecting on the absurdity of it.

  “Obviously, the whole thing was a bad idea,” I tell Ava.

  “She wanted to put everything about our relationship all over every social media outlet, and I just… I didn't,” I confess.

  “That's not your style,” Ava says, and I know right then I can't call her “Bex.”

  I nod because I expected her to Google me. I don't like all that intrusion into my privacy, but there it is, right?

  I cringe at the thought of her seeing all of Rowan's mysterious posts, meant to stir up drama.

  “I asked her if that worked before, with her other relationships, and she said no, so we agreed that she wouldn't do that to us,” I tell Ava.

  “We had an arrangement, but I got bored, and she got bored. So, I broke it off. And then... Bam! Two days later she's posting something about a special gift, and some big announcement and the internet is going wild, like I, Corban Winthrop, proposed or something,” I say, shaking my head.

  “The whole thing is an absolute nightmare,” I say, and Ava looks at me with compassion and understanding.

  “If it's not horrible for public relations, I don't know what is,” I say.

  As I hunch forward, I look down at the intricate carpet, meant to soothe airsick passengers.

  “Hey,” Ava's hand is on my back.

  “If anything, you can spin this, like…” she makes a humming noise for a second.

  “It was just some misunderstanding; you had nothing to do with it. You never confirmed it. You obviously have a long history of commenting on the beginning and end of relationships, but you never commented on anything about Rowan, so if anyone asks, just pretend it never happened? Ok?” she advises.

  She seems wise beyond her years.

  I wonder what she's lived through to be able to give sage advice like that.

  “I wish,” I scoff. “Though that does sound like a good idea. And, maybe we can pretend “Bex” doesn't exist either, ok?”

  “Because that is a truly horrible name…” I say with a wink.

  And then, Av
a laughs for the first time since I've met her, and it's marvelous.

  Suddenly, my heart aches, and I feel it right down to the center of my being.

  I want Ava around, and even though she's right in front of me, I just don't want her to go away.

  Trying to recover, I point to the ring.

  “You know, I didn't even pick that, to be honest,” I tell her.

  “You didn't?” she asks, with a quizzical look.

  “No, I borrowed it from my mother,” I admit

  “Why Bexley Fabbraro?” I ask.

  “Speaking of things that we didn't pick,” she mutters.

  “Do I even look Italian to you, Corban?” she says.

  “Look, let's compromise, okay? I'll reason with you; you can call me Bexley James, and I won't bitch about the way you borrowed my engagement ring, okay?” she says.

  She's smirking at me, so I call her on her bluff.

  “No.” My answer is quick.

  She looks shocked and then sad.

  “Why are you insisting on this?” she whispers.

  “I just… I like your name,” I say, playing my finger along her cheek.

  “Ava,” I murmur, into her ear.

  She moans a little.

  So, I repeat it and then cover her moan with a decent kiss.

  Ashley chooses that moment to stalk by, glaring at us.

  Ava giggles, and then kisses my nose, for spite.

  Ashley stalks off, her big, blonde boobs bouncing in the chill air.

  We are both whispering again.

  But, maybe there's some trust now.

  One second, we are breezing through conversation, and the next, a heating whispering argument in first class, which can only lead to more kissing, because neither of us is going to back down.

  I come up for air, and she spits out some more nonsensical rationale, trying to shore up her position.

  “Because you're paying for Bexley,” she says, gasping a bit.

  “But I want Ava,” I insist, covering her mouth again.

  She pushes me away, but I can tell it's difficult for her to do so.

  “Then pay double,” she says, all spit and challenge.

  “I'll triple it,” I tell her, moving in for the kill.

  Ava sits up straight, and stares out the window, keeping her kissable lips away from mine.

  I let her think it over.

  “No,” she whispers.

  She turns to me, and Ava's eyes widen, and I can tell she'd considered it for a moment.

  “Ava is mine; Ava is me,” she says.

  “This, you?” I tell her. I take her hand and point to the ring.

  “If this is you, and not Bex, then that's what I want to see. I don't want you to be whatever you think I want; this is what I want,” I say.

  I lean in close. I want to be able to read her eyes, to see into her soul, who she is.

  Is she just a high-priced piece, putting on the show for yet another john?

  Or, is there someone else there? Someone I think I can know, to be with, to relate?

  “You tell me now!” I whisper, even more fiercely than I wanted. “I mean it! And if you refuse, I guess I'll just have to call the whole thing off,” I say, my face inches from hers.

  My threat is only a suggestion, because we're in the process of a sixteen-hour flight to Hong Kong, before our connection to Fiji, and I'm betting she knows that.

  “Oh, sweetheart!” she laughs in my face. “You may be a master businessman, but you have so much to learn about women,” she taunts.

  Ava clicks her tongue teasingly, and I feel like I've achieved absolutely nothing, but she is smirking at me at least.

  She leans over, biting my lower lip seductively.

  “Don't worry, we've got a lot more to fight about, but you look exhausted. Like you're about to fall asleep,” she whispers seductively.

  When she reaches down, to pull a worn out little book out of her purse, I get a good look at her ample cleavage, and I get the urge to touch her.

  All over her body.

  I'm very aroused by this woman.

  An odd thought, because as horrible as it sounds, I've dated plenty of hot women, and none of them have had this sort of effect on me.

  Ava, however, is right.

  As I watch her flip through her book, I read the title, and by the time I get to Juliet, I am falling asleep.

  Then I'm out, just like a light.

  ***

  When I wake up, Ava makes it clear that we aren't talking about her real name for the rest of the flight.

  I agree, reluctantly.

  Ava continues asking me questions, while I semi-doze through lunch.

  She tells me it was awful.

  So, I sleep some more and awake just in time for dinner.

  Ashley serves us a nice bottle of red wine.

  Her blonde borage flips and bounces as she does her best to be a decent sommelier.

  “So, you know Noah Stone?” Ava asks as she sips the wine.

  “My mother, Olivia, has been married four or five times,” I respond.

  The wine isn't half bad!

  “Noah was Mother's second husband, but, so that you get the gist of the whole thing, there was a lot of drama. They cheated on each other, frequently. A lot of the time they were together, but even I understood they weren't exactly right for each other,” I say, finishing my wine. “They got married drunk, on vacation, on a whim.”

  “Then, it came out that Noah had Evan, who I used to call my stepbrother, with another woman. They agreed that they would divorce. But, it went okay for both of them. The best one by far of all the divorces my mother has had. I heard their wedding was the best, too,” I laugh.

  Ava laughs again as she brings a piece of chicken to her mouth.

  “So, she's married now?” she says.

  “Engaged again. Mother refuses to give up on finding the One,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Although, personally I don't believe it's necessary to marry every single man you believe is the One,” I add conspiratorially.

  Ava laughs, an unexpected delight at altitude.

  Maybe she's getting better at appreciating the miracle of flight?

  “Anyway, I let her do what she wants with her money. If she wants to plan a huge wedding every single time, let her,” I say.

  “I stopped getting involved after wedding number three, which would've been two husbands after Noah,” I add.

  I press the button to summon Ashley.

  This wine is superb!

  “So, you don't consider him like a father figure?” asks Ava.

  “You don't go drinking with your dad,” I laugh.

  Ashley comes by, and I ask her for another bottle.

  She smiles noncommittally and leaves to fetch it for us.

  I look over at Ava, who is looking out the window, dreamily.

  She turns back to me, her eyes sparkling.

  She sips some more of her wine.

  Her lips glisten with the moisture of it, and I lean over to kiss her.

  She turns her head, and I only get to peck her on the cheek, while she smiles.

  “About Noah? You mentioned you don't see him as a father?” she asks.

  “No. Noah is more of a business consultant,” I reply.

  I'm only momentarily rebuffed by her game.

  I can tell she wants a kiss.

  And, she's going to get one, reasonably soon.

  “Noah looks out for me, I'll give him that much, but since I didn't have siblings he's tried to keep Evan and I on good terms but… Evan's number one is Evan, he doesn't care about anyone else,” I tell her as I stare out the window.

  “What happened there?” Ava asks.

  She raises her eyebrow, which I guess means she senses trouble.

  I suppose that since she's going to pose as my fiancée, she might as well know.

  “The woman to whom I was almost engaged? Catherine was really only interested in the family money, the name. Then, Evan
slept with her to prove to me that was the case because I wouldn't listen,” I confess.

  “Oh.”

  Ava purses her full lips, and I want to kiss her again, I feel like I always want to be kissing her or touching her in some way.

  “What about you? Any family?” I probe, gently.

  “None here,” comes her quick reply.

  I feel that she wants to avoid the topic.

  Then, she surprises me.

  “Or, at least I have no family in New York. My parents died when I was about six. I've no extended family. I'm just floating through life, I guess,” she replies.

  She studies the chicken on her fork for a moment.

  It's the last piece.

  Ava looks at it, and frowns, deciding that she is no longer hungry, and puts the fork down.

  “Was that question too personal?” I ask.

  “No, it's perfectly fine. Ask whatever you want,” Ava says, smiling.

  She smiles, but I can see in her eyes that there is something wrong.

  And it bothers me a lot more than I think it should.

  “So, Isa, you've been working with her a while?” I ask, not sure where I am going with this question.

  “Six years or so. Since I was nineteen,” says Ava. “It was a lot of fun at first; now it's more professional,” she says, sipping more wine.

  “You get to meet a lot of interesting people. You see the good, the bad, the ugly. It's like a study in people because you get to pick out what people need, why they need you,” she explains. “It's not always about sex; it's also about why someone is lonely, or why they want to impress people,” she finishes.

  Her answer is insightful, and I can tell that she's given it a lot of thought.

  With a bit of embarrassment, I realize that Ava is brilliant.

  She's far more so than my public relations team, manager, assistant and all his little minions, as I call them, all wrapped together.

  This means that I'm in trouble.

  I didn't expect my fake fiancée to be so intelligent; to be able to hold a conversation; to be insightful.

  All I wanted from I.S.A., Inc. was a beautiful woman I could show off.

  But not this.

  I am in deep trouble.

  And I know it.

  ***

  When we land in Hong Kong, a more significant problem is waiting.

  Someone has done something that has my phones, all of them, blowing up.