Free Billionaire Decoded by Nella Tyler

Heather. Apparently, she just
wanted to do her job. Not only was she gorgeous, but she didn't seem to be at
all impressed with his status. He rather liked it. He was so tired of people
acting funny around him, trying to impress him, get in good with him, patting
him on the back, and acting like he was their best friend when he didn't even
know them. Everyone wanted to be his friend, but they had ulterior motives.
They all did. Even Alyson had.
    "Look, Heather, there's no
corruption in my company…never has been and never will be." He laughed.
"As a matter of fact, I think it's all rather amusing. Ever since the WikiLeaks
mess, everyone's so quick to point a finger, to accuse everybody, or at least
me, of being engaged in questionable activities. Why? I have no idea." He
actually felt a little guilty lying to her. He did have an idea why people, or
at least the media and some government officials, got the impression that he
was operating outside of the law. Still, they had never found any evidence, nor
pressed charges, so as far as he was concerned, he was okay.
    "I guess that makes
sense," she said, taking another sip of coffee.
    He gazed at her as a sudden idea hit
him. "Heather, would you like to do something spontaneous, something fun?
Something fast?" She stared at him, obviously taken aback. "No
pressure, this isn’t an official date or anything, but to tell you the truth,
I've been under a lot of pressure lately. It's nice to just… to just be with
someone with whom I feel comfortable." He smiled. "You have that
effect on people, you know."
    She smiled politely. "What
effect?"
    He shook his head, not quite sure
how to reply. "I don't know how to explain it. You just have a calming
effect on me. It's like when I'm around you, I feel this sense of… I don't
know, of Zen!” He laughed.
    She shrugged. "Why not?"
    *
    Less than an hour later, Brecken
strapped Heather into the Formula One racing car passenger seat and gave her a
reassuring smile as he got behind the wheel and strapped himself in.
"Don't worry, Heather, I do this all the time." He had booked some
time on a private drag strip a couple of days ago, something that he did at
least once a week. "It helps me unwind and relax."
    Her reply was cut off as he floored
it. In a matter of seconds, the car sped around the track at over one hundred
miles an hour. He didn't look at her, focusing instead on the track in front of
him, his hands firmly on the wheel. The loud engine prevented any conversation,
anyway, but conversation wasn't what he was looking for when he came here.
    Maybe she was getting the same
thrill out of the speed as he did. Then again, maybe she was terrified. He
would find out soon enough. He loved coming here. The adrenaline of pushing a
car to its limits, navigating the curves, and accelerating down the
straightaways helped him get rid of the tension than accumulated on a daily
basis. If he didn't have something like this, he would probably explode. He
wasn't into skydiving or reckless thrill-seeking endeavors, although some could
say that taking a car through its paces around a drag strip was a thrill-seeking
endeavor. He disagreed. He wasn't reckless. He was fully aware of the need for
focus and skill.
    After three laps around the track,
he pulled into the pit stop and then glanced at Heather. Soon, another car
raced around the track past them, engine roaring. She stared straight ahead,
her hands tightly grasping the harness that strapped her into her seat. Then,
she glanced at him, eyes wide.
    "Oh my God, that was amazing!"
    He laughed and nodded.
    "While I certainly don't find
it relaxing, I could see how it might appeal to you."
    "Do you really?"
    "Well, it's not exactly what I
would've thought as a mode of relaxation, but it certainly does get the
adrenaline going and the immediacy of it does prevent other distracting
thoughts from coming into play, doesn't it?"
    "Exactly," he grinned.
    He unbuckled his harness and came
around to her side of