Risk Taker Read online

  Risk Taker

  A standalone billionaire romance

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelly Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Foreword

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading.

  Other Books by Kelly Collins

  About the Author

  Foreword

  Dear Reader,

  Risk Taker was originally published as Just Dessert and was the second book I’d ever written.

  Why a rewrite? Because I knew I could do better.

  I took feedback from reviews and implemented changes based on reader desires. I hope you love what I’ve done with it.

  Damon and Kat were characters I really enjoyed and didn’t want to let go.

  Enjoy!

  Kelly

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  Chapter One

  “Kat, it’s just dinner. No one’s asking you to get naked. He needs a companion for the fundraiser tonight,” Emma says as she looks at me with puppy dog eyes. “I’ve gone to several of these events with him, and he’s always been a gentleman. The man keeps his professional life separated from his personal life. Hell, I’m not even sure he has a personal life.”

  Falling to her knees in front of me, Em closes her eyes as if in prayer. “Damon is the type of male perfection you only find on the pages of magazines. He reminds me of Alexander Skarsgård, although Alexander’s eyes are a different color blue, and his hair is blond. The client is a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed Viking. He’s harmless, Kat. In fact, I think he may be gay because he’s never dated anyone that I’m aware of.”

  Em gets up from her knees and stands in front of me with her hands steepled in prayer. “Please, Kat,” she begs. “I need you to do this for me. I screwed up and overbooked tonight. I can’t be with two men at the same time. Besides, we’ll be at the same event, so if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be close by.”

  “Won’t your client care?” I ask.

  “I asked Damon if he would mind the switch, and he assured me it wouldn’t be a problem.” She dropped to her knees again. “Please help me out. Pleeease.”

  I look into her eyes as they silently plead her case. I know she would bail me out if I needed her, but this is extreme.

  “I don’t think I can do it, Em. I mean … what am I supposed to do? I have no training as an escort.” I watch her face fall into a frown. “That’s your thing, not mine.” I shake my head. “I’ve always known someday you would get yourself into trouble, but I never thought it would involve me.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she hops to her feet. “You act as if I’m asking you to prostitute yourself.” Her lips purse and then relax. “I run a legitimate escort service. I’m not a hooker. I don’t sleep with my clients.” She sighs, then continues. “Well, that’s not altogether true. I slept with Mark, but it was because I wanted to, not because he paid me.”

  The thought of accompanying a complete stranger to a formal event terrifies me. My stomach feels like I’ve just crested the highest peak of a roller coaster, and I’m descending at record speed.

  “Em, I want to help you, but I don’t have the foggiest idea how to behave in this situation.”

  She stops and closes her eyes. I can only imagine how fast she is flipping through the Rolodex in her brain to come up with an example. Her head tilts toward the ceiling while her lips scrunch up—this is her thinking face. Within seconds, she lights up, and I know I’m in trouble. Emma has a way of coming up with the perfect scenario that will work in her best interest.

  “Remember when we went with your parents to the ballet? We dressed up—you in the pink dress and me in the light-blue one.” She stares at me as if waiting for a light bulb to illuminate over my head. “Do you remember how we had to socialize with all your dad’s clients before and after the event?”

  “Yes, and I also remember it was the most boring night of my life.”

  Smiling, she says, “This will be just like that night, except you might like some of people you meet, and you’ll make three hundred dollars. All you have to do is look pretty and smile.” She fluffs her hair and shows off her pearly whites. “You’ll also get to wear one of my fabulous formal gowns. Just say yes!”

  Emma is back on her knees in front of me, pleading. I have a soft spot for her, so despite my fear, I agree to help. “Okay! Just stand up and stop begging. I’ll help you out this one time, but I want to wear your red gown, and you have to do my hair. If the guy is a total creep, I’m leaving, and you’re paying for the taxi.”

  Jumping up and down, Emma dances around me. “Oh, my God, I knew you wouldn’t let me down. He’ll be here to pick you up at seven o’clock. It’s a hospital fundraiser, and Damon is a benefactor. There will be live music and dancing afterward.” Emma wraps me in a big hug. “Kat, you’re the best friend ever.”

  “You’ll owe me big time for this one.” I give her my most intimidating look, which isn’t scary at all. I need to work on that. “Let me jump in the shower, and when I’m done, you’re up because I have just over an hour to get ready.” I walk toward the bathroom, removing my clothes along the way.

  “I’ll have you ready in thirty minutes because that’s how good I am.”

  “Whatever.” Looking down at my toes, I smile. “You’re lucky I had a mani-pedi yesterday. Otherwise, I’d need an outfit that goes with boots and gloves.” Stopping, I turn to ask her a question that has bounced in my brain for a few minutes. “Why do I get this guy instead of the one you’re escorting tonight?”

  Taking a deep breath, she answers. “I know Damon will be a gentleman. The other guy is an unknown.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve never accompanied him. I imagine he’ll be nice, but since I don’t know him personally, I don’t feel comfortable having you escort him.” She waves her hand at me dismissively. “Go take your shower so I can get you all dolled up.”

  I shampoo my hair, shave my legs, and ready myself for “work.” My body wash smells of coconut and mango and makes me think of somewhere exotic like Fiji. Wouldn’t it be nice to escape somewhere else for the night?

  A tropical island sounds good right now. I’d love to be anywhere but here. Covering for Emma petrifies me because I’m way out of my league. I mean, I don’t even date regularly. Who has time between work and school?

  My life is barely in balance as it is, and tonight the scales will tilt toward pure chaos.

  Chapter Two

  “Kat, you look stunning—truly beautiful.” Em stands back to look at me. She walks around me, smoothing my hair, and wiping a smudge
of mascara from under my eye. “Everything is just perfect,” she declares.

  “You really know how to turn a duckling into a swan.”

  I saw myself in the full-length mirror before I made my debut into the living room. The results were nothing less than miraculous.

  Cut on the bias, the red dress clings nicely to my figure. Emma pulled my hair up into a French knot she secured with a pretty bejeweled hair comb.

  My makeup looks elegant and soft. The lipstick is too bright for my taste, but since I’m wearing a red dress, I can see where she was going with it.

  “Who are you going with, Em?”

  “I’ll be accompanying Anthony Haywood.”

  “Anthony Haywood, the restaurateur?” My mouth drops open in shock. “That Anthony Haywood?”

  Anthony Haywood owns a chain of upscale restaurants all over the world. He is a mega-millionaire, reported to be one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. I recently read a fascinating article about him. A real rags-to-riches story.

  “Wow! That’s some date you have.”

  “It’s not a date, Kat. It’s a job. But yes, I think he’ll be an interesting companion. You, my dear, will accompany Damon Noble.”

  My jaw drops at the mention of his full name. He’s the owner of a chain of exclusive nightclubs called Zenith.

  “Close your mouth. I told you I have an elite client list who just want an educated, attractive woman on their arms. Relationships and romance don’t interest these men because they’re too busy conquering the world to have time to date. You know how this works.”

  “I know how it works for you, but I’ve never considered your line of work for myself.”

  “I’m just a pretty face for hire. And tonight, so are you.”

  Em darts out of the room to ready herself; she’s used to this lifestyle and has her routine down pat. She emerges wearing a navy-blue gown cut obscenely low in the front. I’m not sure how her breasts are staying inside the dress, but I’m so glad I didn’t ask to wear blue.

  I don’t have the courage or cleavage to pull that dress off. Her hair hangs in waves around her shoulders. She reminds me of Jessica Rabbit with her red hair and curves in all the right places.

  The sound of the doorbell interrupts my thoughts, and my heart beats out a frantic tattoo as Em glides slowly to the door.

  “That should be Damon. I didn’t want there to be a bottleneck at the door, so my client will arrive at seven-fifteen. Let me look at you one more time.” She gives me a once-over before she smiles and tells me I’m flawless.

  There’s a cyclone turning in my stomach that threatens to rise up and choke me. I move to the side and let Emma care for her client.

  “Hi, Damon. Come on in. Katarina is all set to go.” She leans in and kisses his cheek. “Thank you for your flexibility. I can’t figure out how this happened.” Emma steps aside so he can enter the foyer.

  “It’s not a problem. You know how much I hate these things. Thankfully, I only have to attend a few of them a year.” His eyes scan the room and lock on mine. “It doesn’t matter who comes with me as long as someone does. Attending these alone is the worst.” He talks to Em, but his eyes stay on me. He looks me over, and after a minute of silence, he smiles. Walking over, he offers his arm. “Katarina Cross, I presume?”

  Wow. She wasn’t kidding. He’s a gorgeous man. Tall with espresso colored hair and blue eyes, he’s a real treat to look at dressed in his tuxedo. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

  “Yes, but you can call me Kat if you’d like.”

  His smile tightens. “I’d prefer to call you Katarina, and you can call me Damon for the evening. Shall we go?” His voice is smooth and sophisticated. It slides over me like warm honey.

  “See you soon,” Emma calls out as Damon escorts me to the waiting limousine.

  At the end of the sidewalk, a driver waits with the door open. Standing aside, he aids my entrance into the black stretch limo. I situate my dress, placing my small purse on my lap. The slit rides up my leg, leaving several inches of thigh exposed. No adjusting seems to pull it under control.

  Seated across from me, Damon stares at my legs before his attention turns to my face. This man is definitely not gay. There is a gleam in his eyes, and his close inspection of me makes me squirm, causing the dress to ride up even farther.

  His eyes drift back to my exposed leg. I grab my handbag and pull it to my center, like a shield, as if my three-inch-by-five-inch purse can protect me.

  “You look nervous, Katarina. What can I do to make you more comfortable?” he asks. “Maybe a glass of wine will calm your nerves. Would you like one?” He looks directly into my eyes, waiting for my response.

  “Thank you. That would be lovely. Just a small glass, please. I haven’t eaten much today, and I don’t want the alcohol to go to my head.”

  He leans over me to reach for the decanter of red wine. The scent of him wafts under my nose as he fills the glass and places it into my shaking hands.

  “Am I drinking by myself?” I ask.

  He nods, sending a sweep of bangs across his forehead. “I never mix alcohol with business. People who drink too much make poor decisions.” He swipes the hair back and continues to study me.

  I respect his decision not to drink. I’d abstain myself if I weren’t so nervous.

  “We have a thirty-minute drive before we arrive at our destination. Tell me something about yourself. I’d like to get to know you.”

  “I’m not a professional escort,” I say matter-of-factly. I don’t know why I feel the need to say this, but somehow it makes me feel better about myself.

  Chuckling, he says, “I know. Emma said you’re her roommate. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I’m a senior at UCLA, studying hospitality management, and also getting a minor in accounting.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. “I graduated from UCLA with a degree in business management. We already have something in common. The two degrees are similar, except yours is more specific.”

  “I’m certain I’ll enjoy working in the field, but my focus is on graduating.” I nervously pull at my dress to see if I can stop it from rising. If I don’t, by the time we arrive at the venue, it’s liable to be hiked up to my neck.

  A knowing smile breaks from his lips. He seems to enjoy my discomfort. “I’m sure school keeps you busy, but what do you do for fun?” he asks.

  “Fun?” I chuckle. “I don’t know what that means.” I take a sip of wine and continue. “I work full-time and go to school. There isn’t much time for fun.”

  His fingers tap on the seat next to him, and I wonder if it’s a nervous gesture or if he does it unconsciously.

  “You know, they say all work and no play makes Katarina a tired girl.”

  I respond to his incorrect recitation. “I think the correct saying is ‘All work and no play makes Kat a dull girl.’”

  “Are you a dull girl? Maybe your job makes you more exciting. Where do you work?”

  He doesn’t care where I work, but I play along. In fact, I want to see how much of his attention I have. Is he genuinely interested in what I have to say, or is he going through the motions of being polite?

  “I’m a stripper at Baby Dolls,” I declare.

  His eyes dart from my legs to my face. I imagine he’s looking to see if there is any truth in my statement. His fingers immediately stop bouncing against the seat, and I laugh at his reaction. It pleases me to see he is paying attention.

  “Somehow, I don’t see you pole dancing at Baby Dolls.” He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. His new position divides the distance between us.

  I continue to giggle and think maybe a glass of wine was too much.

  “Oh, no, I’m much too uncoordinated to use the pole. I’m a cage dancer,” I tease.

  He grins and continues to toy with me. “I know, without a doubt, Baby Dolls has no cage dancers. I find it highly unlikely you work there. Since the mere rising of your gown mak
es you blush, I can’t imagine you dancing naked.” The tapping begins again, only this time with just his index finger on his chin.

  “So, you’re a patron?” I give him a pointed stare. “I guess you caught me in a fib.” With a tilt of my head, I shrug. “I work at Java Joes. If you want a great cup of coffee, then come see me. If you want a lap dance, you’ll need to look elsewhere.” My statement lets him know I have a sense of humor, but it also tells him I don’t plan on offering him anything beyond platonic companionship.

  “Darn. I was thinking Baby Dolls upped their game. If you worked there, I’d consider a visit. It’s not my usual, but I’d stray off the beaten path to see you dance.” His hand lowers, and he drums his fingers on the seat again.

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Noble” I lower my eyes and smile sweetly in his direction. It’s the best imitation of coy I can muster.

  At least he’s fun and flirtatious, and I feel comfortable in his presence.

  “I believe the saying is, ‘Flattery will get you everywhere, Ms. Cross.’” His blue eyes smile at me as if he is waiting for me to counter.

  “If flattery is all you’ve got, you need to step up your game.”

  His lips lift into a devilish grin that matches the twinkle in his eyes. “I’ll take that as a challenge, Katarina.”

  I wasn’t trying to challenge the man; I was just being playful. “Why do you insist on calling me Katarina?”