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Down under a daddys bill.., p.1
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Down Under: A Daddy's Billionaire Boss Romance, page 1

 

Down Under: A Daddy's Billionaire Boss Romance
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Down Under: A Daddy's Billionaire Boss Romance


  Down Under

  A Daddy’s Billionaire Boss Romance

  By Margot Scott

  ©2020 Margot Scott

  Edited by Kathleen Payne

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. All characters are productions of the author’s imagination. This work is intended for adults aged eighteen or older.

  There’s a daddy-sized void inside me,

  and his boss is determined to fill it.

  I flew from Cali to Sydney to visit my dad, only to find he couldn’t care less about seeing me. My dad’s boss, on the other hand, hasn't been able to stop undressing me with his eyes.

  Brian Murdoch, CEO of the #1 banking firm in the country, is at least twice my age and looks like sin dipped in Armani. I’d be crazy to get involved with the billionaire who pays my dad’s salary. I already have one rich man in my life whose promises aren’t worth anything.

  But when my dad blows me off again, it’s Mr. Murdoch who offers to take me out instead. Now he’s determined to be the only Daddy I’ll ever need. At home, at the office, and in my bed.

  ~

  Author’s Note: This taboo, older man, daddy’s billionaire boss romance is all your favorite things rolled into one: an Alpha AF Daddy, an inexperienced (but eager) virgin, and so much heat and sweetness, you’ll think you’re eating caramel. Fast and filthy, this short romance is safe, with no cheating or cliffhangers, and features a guaranteed HEA!

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  Contents

  Down Under

  ©2020 Margot Scott

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  About Margot Scott

  Chapter One

  My flight from Los Angeles touches down in Sydney at 3:30 on the dot. It takes exactly nine-and-a-half minutes for me to exit the gate, grab my luggage, and make my way out of the terminal.

  I like numbers because they’re reliable. You can add, subtract, multiply, and divide to your heart’s content, but at the end of the day, you’re going to end up with a result you can count on.

  One by one, the passengers from my flight disperse into the crowd, as I stand in front of a busy McDonald’s, waiting for my dad to come find me. For a guy who works at one of the largest banking firms in Australia, you’d think he’d be better at keeping track of numbers. Hours, minutes, seconds...

  I wheel my suitcase to an empty table and plop down with a sigh.

  So much for hoping this time would be different.

  My parents split up the year I entered middle school, and my dad moved to Sweden shortly after that. He came back to California to visit me a handful of times, with a suitcase full of souvenirs and a mouth full of empty promises about one day bringing me to visit him.

  When he took the job in Sydney, he swore he’d make time to host me. Three months passed before his invite finally came, along with the requisite apologies, this time for missing my high school graduation.

  A half hour passes before a harried woman in a blue pantsuit comes bustling up to my table, waving a sign with my name written on it in black Sharpie.

  “Hi Ruby,” she says. “I’m Liz, your dad’s assistant. Gosh, you’re a pretty one. Your picture doesn’t do you justice.”

  “Thanks.” I tuck a stray lock of chocolate-brown hair behind my ear. “Where’s my dad?”

  “He got caught up in a meeting and sent me to collect you. I see you’ve already got your bags. I hope your flight wasn’t too bumpy.”

  “It was fine.” I don’t mean to be curt with Liz; it’s not her fault my dad’s meeting ran late and he forgot to text me.

  “Good. Now, let’s get you out of here. You must be starving. Have you eaten?”

  “Just some crackers on the plane.” I sling my messenger bag onto my shoulder. Liz extends the handle on my suitcase and begins wheeling it away. I follow, amazed at how fast she can hustle in three-inch pumps.

  “Car’s just outside,” she says over her shoulder. I almost lose her twice before we reach the main entrance.

  The car waiting for us is a black BMW with tinted windows. For a second, I think my dad might be waiting inside to surprise me, but those hopes are squashed as soon as the driver opens the rear door. Liz and I climb inside as the driver packs my luggage into the trunk.

  Liz makes small talk all the way to the office, and I try not to sound too disinterested. As we exit the car, I crane my neck to get a look at the tips of the very tall skyscrapers surrounding me.

  “Come along, sweetheart.” Liz beckons. “Your dad’s going to be so excited to see you.”

  The wheels on my suitcase make an obnoxious whirring noise as they roll over the lobby’s shiny black tiles. My stomach dips as the elevator sends us flying toward the forty-second floor. On the way up, I take a second to smooth out my plum-colored pants and black top. Normally, I would’ve dressed for comfort, what with the fifteen-hour plane ride, but my dad hasn’t seen me in almost two years. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I want to impress him.

  “Here we are,” Liz says as we step out of the elevator. I trail her out into a posh-looking sitting area and then down a long, wide hall. Men and women in tailored suits march past us in both directions. I squeeze the handle on my suitcase and try not to trip as my gaze darts literally everywhere.

  Liz ushers me through a doorway, which leads to another sitting area, then down a short hallway to a corner office where my father sits squinting at a computer screen.

  “Mr. Clark, your daughter’s here.”

  My dad barely glances up from the screen. “Hey, honey. How was your flight?”

  “It was okay.” Seconds tick by as I stand there awkwardly, waiting for him to actually come and greet me.

  After exactly thirty-seven seconds, he rises from his desk, pushes his glasses up his nose and takes a good look at me.

  “When did you get so tall?” he asks. I’m not that tall. Barely five-six, but I guess it has been a while since he’s seen me. He pulls me into an awkward side hug that lasts less than a second, then quickly breaks away, brushing his hands off like I’m made of something he doesn’t want to get on his pants.

  Liz seems to sense the tension between us. She touches my arm and asks, “Can I get you a tea or coffee, sweetheart?”

  “Water’s fine,” I say. She leaves, and it’s just the two of us, my father and me. He looks like a deer in headlights, like he’s not sure what to do with me.

  He gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat,” he says, like I’m a prospective new client instead of his own child.

  I wheel my suitcase over and sit down. My dad reclaims the chair behind his desk, though he could just as easily have sat beside me. He clearly wants to keep some distance between us.

  “How was your senior year?” he asks.

  “It was good.” I cross and uncross my legs. “I graduated with honors.”

  “That’s my girl,” he says, though his pride sounds forced. Truth be told, I’m not sure if I was ever his girl, even when I lived with him.

  Liz returns with a glass of water and a mug of coffee that she sets on the desk in front of my dad. “Shall I make a dinner reservation for you and Miss Clark tonight?” she asks.

  “Sure, fine. But not too early. I still have a lot to get done.” He takes a long swig of coffee that looks like it hurts going down. “So, Ruby, what are your plans for college?”

  “I’m, uh, not sure yet.” After months of back and forth, my mom and I decided it’d be better for me to take a year off to figure things out before I tied myself down to a program. Most of my high school friends have already packed up and shipped off to universities, boasting big, bright dreams for their futures. I honestly have no idea what I want to do with my life. Frankly, I think I’d prefer a do-over.

  “Your mom said you were looking for an office job,” he says.

  I wasn’t aware that my parents were even on speaking terms. “Yeah, that would be fine, I guess... When did she say that?”

  “When she asked me to let you spend part of your gap year here.”

  “Oh...” My mouth goes dry. This whole time, I was under the impression that it’d been my dad’s idea to have me live here. Now that I’m sitting across from him, with four feet of desk instead of an ocean between us, it’s painfully obvious that he doesn’t actually want me here.

  I really should’ve known better. His invitation had come so out of the blue. Why would he suddenly want me in his life after years of ignoring my existence? I had hoped that maybe he’d missed being a dad and wanted to make up for lost time.

  In the end, I guess I was the one who missed being a daughter.

  “I’ll have Liz call you a car so you can unpack your stuff at the house.” He presses a button on his desk phone, not even waiting for a response. The man wants me out of his office—and probably his life—as soon as possible. “Liz, call Ruby a company car,” he says.
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  Her voice crackles through the speaker, “Right away sir. But first, Mr. Murdoch would like to see you.”

  “As if I don’t already have a mountain of shit to deal with,” my dad grumbles. “Tell him I’ll be up in a sec—”

  “Tell Mr. Clark I’m already here.”

  A deep Australian accented voice caresses my ears and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My dad’s eyes widen like he’s realizing the gas he just tried to pass was actually quite solid. I look over my shoulder and am instantly caught in the gaze of the man leaning against the door frame with his arms folded.

  Dark hair, dark eyes, dark suit...

  “Mr. Murdoch.” My dad practically leaps out of his chair. “I was just about to call you.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you were.” Mr. Murdoch steps into the room, never taking his eyes off mine. “Who might this be?”

  “Ruby, this is our Managing Director and CEO, Brian Murdoch. Mr. Murdoch, this is my daughter, Ruby.”

  I know I should stand, but I can’t bring myself to breathe, let alone operate my limbs.

  “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Mr. Murdoch offers me his hand to shake. I take it.

  “She lives in California with her mother,” my dad says.

  “I see. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ruby.”

  “You, too,” I croak, my throat suddenly gone dry. A sense of loss pangs me as he pulls his hand away. I have to bite my lip to suppress a whimper.

  “What brings you all the way down here?” Mr. Murdoch’s suit clings to him like it was tailored to fit every inch of his large frame. Not large as in overweight, but large as in solid. From where I’m sitting, he looks like a real-life giant.

  “Ruby’s spending her gap year with me,” my dad says. “I’m hoping we can find her an assistant job so she can get some real work experience before college.”

  “I’m sure we can find a place for her.” Mr. Murdoch’s gaze appraises me, making the blood rush to my cheeks and other places where I didn't believe I could blush. I don’t think anyone’s ever studied me this intently. “And if not, we’ll have to make one.”

  His mouth tips into a smile that makes my own lips quirk in response. I can’t stop staring at his face, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he walked in.

  Liz knocks on the open door and steps into the office. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Murdoch, but Ruby’s car is waiting downstairs.”

  “Excellent.” My dad gestures for me to move out, clearly desperate to be rid of me. “I’ll have Liz text you about dinner tonight.”

  Mr. Murdoch shoots my dad a quizzical look. I rise on legs that feel like jelly and collect my suitcase. I wheel my suitcase toward the door, then stop and glance behind me.

  “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Murdoch.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Miss Ruby.

  Chapter Two

  My dad’s townhouse is both undeniably nice and utterly impersonal. After performing some light snooping, I’m willing to bet he bought the place fully furnished. I lug my suitcase upstairs to the guestroom—per Liz’s instructions. There, I find another clean, neutral room. White sheets to match the off-white curtains and walls.

  I start to unpack and then stop. Is there even a point in trying to get comfortable in a home I’m not welcome in? I leave my jeans at the bottom of my bag and unpack only the essentials: toothbrush, facial wash, underwear.

  As I close the drawer on my panties, I realize I’m still thinking about my dad’s boss, Mr. Murdoch. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since I left the office. The man is old enough to be my father; he might even be a few years older than my father. Yet my body doesn’t seem to care.

  From the moment Brian Murdoch walked into my dad’s office, I was caught, captivated, like a butterfly in a spider’s web. And I swear, the man couldn’t stop looking at me like he wanted to eat me for dinner.

  It occurs to me that if I went to work at my dad’s firm, I might get to see Mr. Murdoch more regularly. I shove the thought away. No doubt the kind of job my dad wants for me will be one that places me far away from the main offices. In a back room or a basement, somewhere he doesn’t have to think about the daughter he walked out on.

  I highly doubt Mr. Murdoch takes his lunches in the mail room.

  Still, my mind can’t help but wander...

  I picture myself taking the elevator up to Mr. Murdock’s office, my arms heavy with files. I see the man himself, seated behind a big oak desk, a cigar sending out smoke signals from his right hand. Come to me, Ruby, they seem to say, and so I do.

  The fantasy takes over and I have to lie down on the bed. I imagine Mr. Murdoch telling me to put the paperwork down, and asking me to sit in his lap. I do as he tells me, noting the hard lump beneath my ass. I ask about it, and he tells me it’s his cock. Mr. Murdoch is hard...for me. I’ve never touched a cock, so I can only imagine what it feels like to have one pressed against me, but the idea alone has me writhing.

  I press my very real hand between my legs, as Mr. Murdoch does the same to me in my mind. He asks if I’ve been working hard as he rubs my pussy. I say yes, very hard, sir. He kisses my neck as his free hand roves all over my breasts and belly. We’re both about to reach into my panties when my ringtone rips through the scene in my head like a child’s hands through Christmas paper.

  “Shit,” I mutter, grabbing my phone off the dresser where I left it. I answer, “Hello?”

  “Hi Ruby, it’s Liz. I’m just calling to confirm your dinner reservation tonight.” I make a note of when I’m supposed to be picked up and then thank Liz for calling.

  I’m still horny. I consider picking up where Mr. Murdoch and I left off, but the reality of my situation is fast eclipsing the thrill of my fantasy. Even if I got a job at the firm, I’d still be living in my dad’s house in the meantime, unwelcome and unwanted.

  I notice an unread text message notification and swipe to check it. It’s a message from my mom asking how I’m doing. I text back: Dad doesn’t want me here.

  My mom replies immediately: Don’t take it personally. Your dad’s a busy guy, and he’s always had trouble focusing on more than one thing at a time. Give him a few days. In the meantime, you’re in AUSTRALIA! Have some FUN!

  I toss my phone on the bed. Maybe I am being overly sensitive. I have no idea what my dad’s life is like here. It’s possible he’s just really stressed, and doesn’t remember how to be a father. What if all we need is a chance to reconnect, and an opportunity to talk openly without distractions?

  Tonight’s dinner could be good for us. A chance to start over.

  I shower and get dressed, opting for the nicest dress I packed: a midnight-blue halter with a white sash. The neckline is a little low—possibly too low for dinner with my dad, but from what Liz told me about the restaurant, I think it’s better to go with fancy-but-sexy than to settle for modest-but-frumpy.

  The BMW picks me up at seven on the dot and deposits me back at my dad’s office. Apparently, he still has a couple of things to take care of, and the restaurant is close enough for us to walk to. I take the elevator up to his office, and Liz spots me as soon as I step through the doors.

  “Ruby, don’t you look lovely!” she says from behind her desk. Her gaze flits to my cleavage, but her smile doesn’t falter. “I’ll call your dad and tell him you’re here. Feel free to sit anywhere you’d like.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I take a seat on the brown leather sofa in the sitting area and wait.

  I wait for over an hour.

  Finally, Liz comes to sit next to me, her hand resting on my shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry, sweetheart, but your dad’s not going to make it out tonight.”

  My heart plummets into the pit of my stomach. I can already feel the prickling of tears at the edges of my eyes. So much for a new start and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

  All I can say is, “Oh...”

  “Would you like me to order you some take-away? There’s a lovely Indian restaurant around the corner.”

  I shake my head. “Did he say why he can’t go out?”

 
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