Enchanted: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 4)

by Tracie Delaney

Seizing the opportunity to tease him, I said, “I think you’ll find I work for Sebastian and Garen. Their names are on the contract I signed.”

  He growled. “You work for me.”

  I laughed, relieved the awkward atmosphere had dissolved. “Gotcha.”

  He moved fast, a blur, and his mouth took mine in a kiss that sent shivers to the top of my head and the tips of my toes. When he came up for air, I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “You work for me,” he reiterated. “I don’t give a shit which ROGUES director signed the contract.”

  “Yes, boss,” I said, rather enjoying his proprietary attitude. “Whatever you say.”

  He groaned. “Jesus, when I finally get you into bed, please repeat that.”

  “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  His eyes glazed over, only for a moment. “I used to be,” he murmured.

  I cradled his face and pressed my lips to his. “Give me some time.”

  “Take as much as you need.”

  “Now,” I said. “About this car. I can’t take it. In a couple months I’ll have enough saved to buy a car of my own, and I’d rather not be indebted.”

  “In case I use it to lure you to bed.” He winked. “Seriously, take it. If you want to give it back when you buy your own, that’s fine, but until then, please humor me. We’re coming into wintertime soon when the nights will get dark earlier. I’d rather you weren’t standing on the street waiting for public transport at that time.”

  “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “But only until I’ve saved up enough money.”

  “Deal.”

  “What’s the second thing?”

  He looked confused, only for a moment, and then he nodded and reached for my hand. “When you’re ready to tell your story, please tell it to me.”

  Something warm settled on my chest. “I will.”

  “What’s all this for?” I asked Barbara as she unpacked a veritable mountain of eggs, flour, chocolate, butter, and all kinds of decorations.

  “Upton’s birthday,” she said. “I always bake him a cake. Most of it goes to waste, but that’s never stopped me before.”

  “His birthday?” I asked. “When is it?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I flexed my jaw. He never said a word to me. “He kept that quiet,” I grumbled.

  “He doesn’t like any fuss,” Barbara stated. “Not even before the accident. Jenna used to force him to celebrate, but it was always under duress.” She made a sad face. “He never could say no to that poor girl.”

  An idea formed in my mind. “Barbara, would it be too much trouble if I asked you to make a very small cake for his actual birthday and then a much larger one for Saturday?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “What are you planning?”

  I drummed my fingers on the kitchen countertop and leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s going to celebrate this birthday whether he likes it or not, with people who love him and have missed him.”

  Barbara lit up from the inside out. “A dinner party? For how many?”

  “I’ll let you know. I just need to make a phone call.”

  I ducked outside and went to sit in my car—or rather, the car Upton loaned me. He had a habit of sneaking up on me, and the last thing I wanted was for him to overhear this conversation and try to derail it before I’d put the wheels in motion. I checked my watch. London was eight hours ahead, which put it at nine in the evening. Hopefully Sebastian wasn’t an early to bed kind of guy.

  He answered my call on the third ring and, lucky for me, sounded alert, if a little concerned. During my time in this job, I’d only called him twice, and on both occasions, I’d made sure the calls were during his working hours.

  “Izabelle. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, great. Sorry to call you so late. Is this a bad time?”

  “Not at all. What do you need?”

  “I just found out it’s Upton’s birthday tomorrow, and the sneaky so-and-so kept it from me.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “He’s not a huge celebrator of his birthday.”

  “So Barbara tells me. Except this year, I’ve decided things will be different.”

  Another chuckle. “You’re settling in well, then?”

  “Let’s just say he’s stopped trying to make me quit.”

  “Excellent. So, what’s the plan?”

  “Can you round up all his friends and see if they can come here, to his house, for a dinner party on Saturday evening?”

  “Ohhh,” Sebastian said, openly laughing now. “He’ll hate every second.”

  “Too bad,” I said. “I’m dragging him back into the land of the living, whatever he says. He’s ready. He’s stubborn, that’s all.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “You leave him to me. So, can you arrange it with the others?”

  “Yes. Oh, you’ll need to cater for Oliver’s kids.”

  “Great. The more the merrier. How many, and what ages?”

  “Two. Nine and ten. Neither of them is particularly fussy, though, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

  “Got it,” I said. “Shall we say six, that way it isn’t too late for the children?”

  “We’ll be there.”

  I hung up and grinned to myself.

  Welcome back to the world, Upton Barrick.

  16

  Upton

  I paced across my bedroom, wearing out a track in the carpet. Belle had given me strict instructions to wait here for her until she came to fetch me. A surprise, she’d said.

  I flexed my fingers to try to keep the pins and needles at bay. I hated surprises.

  But for her, I complied. She’d been so excited when she disappeared thirty minutes ago with a final directive to wear a suit. I hadn’t worn a suit since… Christ, since before the bomb. It felt weird, and I kept running my finger around the shirt collar. These days I preferred T-shirts or polos.

  I’d already guessed what she had planned. She’d let me know in no uncertain terms how annoyed she was that I’d kept my birthday from her, and I’d seen her and Barbara with their heads together several times this week, plotting. She’d clearly asked Barbara to cook us a special birthday meal. I wasn’t one for celebrating my birthday, not even before I lost Jenna—although she’d pushed me into it year after year—and now it appeared as if Belle would be just as pushy.

  If it made her happy, though, I’d give in. Go along with her wishes.

  Fuck. She’d whipped me into shape, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.

  I wandered over to the window, smiling as I recalled watching her swim laps in the pool. I’d wanted nothing more than for her to quit back then, even if that hadn’t stopped me jerking off to the sight of her in that tiny yellow bikini. I really must ask her for a second viewing.

  “Ready?”

  I spun around, and my jaw slackened. “Wow. You look… I mean… Jesus.”

  She smiled. “I hope the ends to these sentences are positive ones.”

  Belle had slithered her amazing, athletic body into a plum-colored fitted dress that clung to every curve and showed off a cleavage I wanted to bury my head between and happily take my last breath in. She’d put her hair up which showed off the creamy skin of her neck, and a silver pendant hung between her breasts. Her makeup was light and fresh. Perfect.

  “C’mere,” I said, although I walked toward her and she met me halfway. I circled her waist, running my hands over her hips, then tugged her closer. “Whatever you had planned, let’s ditch it and make out instead.”

  I cut off her giggle, kissing her, tasting her, ruining her carefully applied lipstick. Heat licked through my veins as we went from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. A rumble of a moan sounded in her throat, and she burrowed beneath my jacket, the warmth from her hands seeping through my crisp white shirt.

  Breaking off the kiss, I pressed my nose to her neck, breathing in the faint scent of a floral perfume, a subtle addition to the smell of her own skin rath
er than a detraction from it. This woman… she had class written all over her. The riches I’d amassed over the years, and the circles I’d moved in before I’d withdrawn from public life had meant I’d come into contact with all manner of the elite, and I knew with absolute certainty that Izabelle Laker had more class in her pinky than a lot of the nouveau riche I’d had to rub shoulders with over the years. Not only that, but she was kind, considerate, beautiful, funny, patient, and stubborn as fuck, given she was still here after I’d tried everything to make her quit in the early days.

  I tucked a stray lock of hair that had escaped a bobby pin behind her ear. “I smudged your lipstick.”

  She cupped my cheek—the scarred one—and instead of jerking away, I leaned into her like a cat seeking attention.

  “It’s easily reapplied.”

  “I wouldn’t bother,” I said. “We’ll be joined at the mouth for most of this evening anyway.”

  She brushed her thumb over my bottom lip.

  I captured her wrist and bit the pad, then drew it into my mouth, sucking lightly. “Stop,” she groaned. “We have to go.”

  I frowned, and then my stomach jolted as a thought occurred to me. “You haven’t booked a restaurant, have you? I’m not in the mood for playing the part of circus freak this evening.”

  Her jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed with annoyance. “You are not a fucking circus freak,” she snapped, surprising me with a rare curse. “No, I haven’t booked a restaurant, but even if I had, we would go and you would enjoy yourself.”

  A shiver of pleasure traveled up my spine. I kind of liked Belle ordering me about. And I told her exactly that, which she laughed at.

  “Zak is always telling me I’m bossy.”

  “He’s not wrong.”

  She slipped her hand into mine and, together, we walked downstairs. Turning right, we passed by the library and on down the hall to the formal dining room. She stopped outside and drew in a deep breath, almost as if she had to steel herself before entering.

  “Don’t be mad,” she said, and before I could ask her what she meant, she opened the door and pushed me inside.

  “Surprise!”

  My eyes widened, and I looked around the room and then back at Belle, who stood a little off to my right, a demure smile touching lips still devoid of lipstick.

  “Happy birthday, you old fucker,” Sebastian said, pulling me into a hug. “Thirty-two. That’s positively ancient.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked as each of my friends stepped forward to shake my hand or, in the case of their wives and girlfriends, kiss my cheek. I accepted their affection in a kind of daze, whereas normally, I’d have backed away.

  “It was Izabelle’s idea,” Sebastian said. “She called me earlier this week and asked if we’d come to LA to celebrate with you.”

  “I don’t celebrate my birthday,” I mumbled, and only then did I notice Zak sitting at the far end in the motorized wheelchair Belle had bought for him. A kinship I hadn’t expected flowed between us, and when a broad smile etched across his face, so reminiscent of Belle’s, I strode over and shook his hand.

  “Great of you to come,” I said.

  Zak chuckled. “You should know my sister by now. Force of nature, that one. There’s hardly any point arguing when she’s set her mind on something.”

  “How well you know me, little brother,” Belle said as she joined me. She slipped her arm through mine and smiled down at Zak.

  “Less of the little,” he said. “I can still best you, sis, even from this chair.”

  “Where’s your Mom?” I asked Belle.

  “Unfortunately, she couldn’t get time off work. She’s sorry she can’t be here, though.”

  “That’s a shame.” I rather liked Belle’s Mom, even though I’d only met her the one time. “Do you know everyone, Zak?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been here for about an hour,” Zak said. “We were under strict instructions not to make a sound, so, as you can imagine, we hardly dared to breathe.”

  “You are such a jerk, Zak,” Belle said with a roll of her eyes.

  As soon as we were all seated, Barbara came in with an appetizer of smoked salmon and cream cheese rolls with a spinach side salad. She squeezed my shoulder as she set down my plate, and I glanced up at her. “You’re fired.”

  She laughed, reading me like a book. I’d never fire Barbara. The only way she’d leave my employment would be if it were her choice. She kissed my cheek, then whispered in my ear, “I’ve missed your smile.”

  Something warm and hazy appeared in my chest, and my eye caught Belle’s. She pressed her hand to my thigh.

  “Welcome back,” she said, her tone low enough so that only I could hear.

  And it hit me. Right there in the middle of my dining room, surrounded by my best friends and a woman who’d become so special to me.

  I’d stopped feeling sad.

  If someone held a gun to my head and asked me to pinpoint the exact date and time it had happened, I couldn’t answer. But facts were facts.

  Jenna would kick my ass from here to the beach and back again if she could. She’d have hated the man I’d become, so bitter and filled with guilt, cutting myself off from those who loved and cared for me. I mean, sure, Dad still treated me like a leper, and I was pretty certain Jenice spent her evenings wishing I’d died instead of Jenna—not on her own there—but I had survived. As much as I wished that it was the other way around and my little sister was here, I couldn’t bring her back. I did, however, owe it to her to live my life to the fullest.

  In front of all my friends, I eased up Belle’s chin and kissed her. The room fell silent, and I knew without looking that every pair of eyes were on us—including Oliver’s daughters, Annie, and Patsy, who he and Harlow, his girlfriend, had recently adopted—but I didn’t care.

  Someone cleared their throat, and I slowly withdrew from Belle’s tantalizing and addictive lips.

  “Well,” she breathed. “That’s one way to tell your friends you’ve corrupted your employee.”

  My eyes dropped to her cleavage. “I hope that one day soon, she’ll allow me to corrupt her a little more.”

  I scanned the room and, confronted with a sea of faces, some stunned, some surprised, I shrugged. “What? Never seen a man kiss his girlfriend before?”

  Belle stiffened beside me, and I covered the hand she’d left on my thigh with my own and wrapped my fingers around hers. Probably not the right place to announce that, but really, what other word for her was there?

  After the first flush of surprise passed, I locked eyes with Garen. He nodded, a smile edging across his face, then slung his arm around his girlfriend, Catriona’s, shoulders and kissed her temple.

  We demolished the first course, something which pleased Barbara when she bustled into the room to clear away the plates. The entrée smelled just as fantastic and as everyone tucked in, the conversation thankfully moved away from me and Belle at the center of it.

  I should have known the guys wouldn’t be able to stay off the subject of work for very long, and despite Athena, Ryker’s heavily pregnant wife berating him, he couldn’t resist giving me a quick update and asking, bluntly, when I planned to return to work. I avoided giving him a direct answer, but the idea definitely appealed to me far more than it had at any time since that fateful night.

  I shot the occasional glance Zak’s way just to make sure he wasn’t feeling left out or ostracized in any way, but each time I did, I found him deep in conversation with either Oliver to his right or Elliot to his left. He smiled when he caught my eye, then bent his head toward Elliot, nodding at something he said.

  Only then did it occur to me that, apart from Zak, the only man here without a woman by his side was Sebastian. My best friend, wingman, and online gaming partner—although we hadn’t done much of that lately, an issue I planned to put right very soon. A heaviness settled on my chest. Poor bastard. He deserved more.

  As if he realized my thoughts had turned to
him, he lifted his head and met my gaze. His eyes went to Belle, then back to me, and his lips curved up at the edges. He mouthed “Good choice”.

  Yeah. She was.

  17

  Belle

  The evening was going perfectly. I couldn’t have wished for a better night, or for a more favorable response from Upton. I’d taken a risk, for sure, but it had paid off—thank goodness. That all these men had shifted their schedules around so they could be here for Upton this evening should tell him everything he needed to know: he was surrounded by more love in this one room than most people received in a lifetime.

  He’d stunned me when he’d announced to the entire room that I was his girlfriend, but I guessed, in truth, that’s what I was. Ours wasn’t a conventional relationship, beginning as it had with me as his employee. Upton’s psychological challenges were still there—as were my own, hidden beneath the surface—but just looking at him tonight, chatting and laughing with his five best friends and their partners, I’d say his main troubles were behind him.

  All I had to do now was to persuade him to get back out there. People might stare—I’d spent enough time with Zak to know that the world was full of rude assholes—but only by rejoining the human race would he learn to stand tall, eyes forward, and ignore those kinds of individuals. They didn’t matter. That wasn’t to say their blatant gawking and loud-enough-to-hear whispers wouldn’t hurt, but the only way to learn to rise above their small-mindedness was to be the bigger person. To live your life as best you could.

  I caught Zak’s eye and smiled. He winked, then continued his conversation with Oliver, their dark heads close together as they chatted. My gaze continued around the table, eventually alighting on Brienna, Elliot’s girlfriend. She looked glum and kept lowering her eyes and fiddling with the hem of her dress. Occasionally he’d whisper something to her, and she’d offer him a tight smile and a couple of words, then fall silent once more.

  Wonder what her issue is?

  I tried to grab her attention, to offer a little solidarity, but if she felt my stare, she ignored it.