ALL THAT HE WANTS (Volume 1 The Billionaire's Seduction) by Olivia Thorne Page A

into complete darkness.
    “Oh… my… God,” I whispered.
    I was spending the night in a sci-fi movie.
    I moved the dimmer up and down several times, transfixed by how the glass went from totally clear to a wall of black. Then I realized I should probably move along before Connor came in and found me acting like a three-year-old playing with a car’s door locks.
    I moved my hand over and found the lights.
    And was transported into paradise.
    The room was exquisitely decorated in neutral colors that shaded into darker territory. The dark coverlet on the bed looked so soft and plush I wanted to run and jump on it (again, like a three-year-old). Over the bed hung a billowing, white cloth canopy that made the room look like a tent out of 1001 Arabian Nights . Little sofas and chairs with overstuffed pillows, beautiful hanging lamps… I was in love. I wanted to stay in there forever… until I finally tore myself away and went into the bathroom. Then my fickle heart found another infatuation.
    I’m a sucker for big, beautiful bathrooms, and this one was larger than my apartment.
    The décor continued the lobby’s theme of black obsidian with gold fixtures. There was a giant jacuzzi bathtub set into the floor that looked almost as deep as I was tall. It sat in front of a massive window overlooking the twinkling lights of Los Angeles. I could imagine relaxing in there, the water bubbling sensually around me, with a glass of champagne and Connor as we…
    Ahem.
    I’ll move on to the rest of the bathroom now.
    The shower was gorgeous, a wide open space with two golden showerheads on opposing walls – and a huge one, three feet in diameter, directly overhead! I guess it was for that ‘summer rainfall’ feel or something.
    Oh – you know how a hotel will give you a teensy little bottle of shampoo and another of body wash? Unless they just combine them into one generic mishmash of ‘shampoo / body wash’?
    Ten different bottles in the shower, all with expensive-sounding names. Three types of conditioner, too.
    There were mirrors everywhere. Two sinks set into the obsidian counters with gold faucets. Next to them, an assortment of exquisite-smelling soaps and lotions.
    The towels were heaven – thick, luxurious expanses of softest white, with ‘The Dubai’ embroidered in black thread. Oh, and bathrobes of the same material hanging on the wall.
    A few flowers graced the room, arranged tastefully in glass vases. Orchids and – in what I took as a good omen – lilies. There were only a handful, but I figured that was because their scent was already pleasant enough. Any more in such an enclosed space, and it might have been overpowering.
    After I’d finished up, I took one last look around, reluctantly tore myself away, and returned to the main room of the penthouse.

6
    When I came out of the bedroom, I surveyed the rest of the penthouse: plush leather sectional couches. A widescreen TV bigger (and thinner) than I’d ever seen before. A magnificent dining table. And most surprising of all, a pool of water in the floor that glowed sapphire blue.
    That’s when I realized that the pool – about ten feet square – extended under the glass walls to the outside, where it joined a much larger swimming pool on a private patio. Sumptuous outdoor chairs and more potted jungle plants ringed the glowing blue water. I could start in here, swim under the glass wall, and end up outside with a few strokes.
    Johnny saw me looking at the pool. “Yeah, I’m not too fond of that,” he said to Connor.
    Connor was over by the sofa taking off his tie and jacket. I had a lovely little flashback to less than an hour ago as he shrugged off his clothes.
    “Relax, there’s a gate,” he told Johnny.
    I looked closer. Sure enough, a sturdy metal gate extended from the bottom of the tiled pool to the bottom of the glass wall.
    “Don’t worry,” Connor said to me, “if you want to go swimming, there’s a button that retracts it.