My French Billionaire (In Bed with a Billionaire Book 5)

by Marian Tee

  There wasn’t even a damn term for what Christien suffered, and the closest label that the doctors had been able to come up with was depression and – in worst case scenario – schizophrenia, of all fucking things.

  Glancing back at his friend, Nick chose his next words with extreme care, realizing now just how close Christien was to losing it. “I get where you’re coming from,” he said slowly, “and I get why you’re afraid. And yes, I do fucking understand that maybe you can’t ever know if you really love her---” He paused. “But maybe she can? Maybe she’s the one who can see what you can’t? Feel what you can’t? So the question is – have you ever given her the chance to show you why she thinks you love her?”

  Christien: Kharis, I know – or at least I hope you’re receiving my messages. Please call me.

  Christien: I know you’re angry, maybe you even hate me, and I know you have every right to be. But please, can we just talk?

  Christien: Please just call me. Please.

  The billionaire had lost count of the number of messages he had sent to Kharis, all of which he had also emailed to her. He knew he was the epitome of desperation right now, but he didn’t give a damn. It was true, anyway. He was desperate.

  As he stepped out of his private jet, he immediately placed a call to her phone, and his chest tightened when it went straight to her voicemail – again.

  “Kharis, it’s me.” The billionaire’s voice was taut and stiff. “Christien.” Goddammit, he sounded like an idiot. “I would really appreciate it if you could answer my call.” He paused then added tightly, “Please.”

  And so it continued, with the billionaire alternately sending text and voice messages to Kharis throughout the thirty-minute ride to her place. By the time he made it to the Tudor mansion he had purchased for Kharis and her grandfather, it was a few minutes past one in the morning, and the whole place was dark and quiet.

  What if they were away?

  How much time would it take to find out where they went?

  And what would he do if Kharis were now with another man?

  Kill whoever the other man was, the billionaire decided resolutely and unhesitatingly, before locking himself in a room with Kharis until she remembered that she loved him.

  “Sir?” As his employer turned to face him, Elmer gulped nervously before asking, “Shall I wait with the security team?”

  The question had his bodyguards looking down at their feet, and Christien’s lips twisted in a humorless smile. That his field team was intuitive enough to understand how rocky things were between him and Kharis didn’t come as a surprise, but it also unfortunately underscored the gravity of the situation---

  And the increasing possibility, Christien thought grimly, that Kharis wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him.

  “You can call it a day,” the billionaire said finally. “I’ll contact you if I need you.” And in the event that Kharis did refuse to see him, having to walk to Nightmare wouldn’t be enough of a punishment.

  Soon enough, the billionaire was alone, with his bodyguards leaving to secure the premises. His hand curled around the key inside his pocket, but something was still holding him back. He found himself looking up at Kharis’ bedroom window---

  Between the two of them, it should’ve been Kharis blowing hot and cold, Kharis who had every right to have trouble making up her mind because she was young, innocent, and inexperienced.

  And yet…he was the one who had turned his back on her.

  Twice.

  Chapter 13

  Christien stole into the house like a thief in the night, and he felt very much like one as he silently climbed the steps leading to Kharis’ bedroom. He kept waiting for someone to wake up, someone to tell him he had no right to come back into her life after all the pain he had caused her.

  He kept waiting for it to happen, waiting and waiting until he realized that a part of him actually wanted it to happen. However hurt Kharis was now, it would be nothing compared to how much worse things could get if it turned out he was wrong---

  And she wasn’t the woman he needed her to be in his life.

  His eyes closed at the thought, and his movements stilled.

  You can still turn your back, boy, Death told him. Come to my abode instead.

  Somehow, the billionaire found the strength to shove the thought away before it could take hold, and as he reached the third floor, he didn’t give himself time to think of what he was about to do. He simply raised his fist right away and rapped it against the door.

  His knock, quiet as it was, reverberated in the narrow third-floor hallway, and his already tense form stiffened even more at the exaggerated sound.

  He waited for a moment before raising his fist once more, but before he could knock again, he heard the flick of a light switch, followed by the twist of a knob.

  His fists clenched.

  The door opened, light blazing into the darkened hallway, and just like that, Christien found himself face to face with Kharis.

  His heart thundered against his chest, but he had barely caught a glimpse of her face before she swiftly turned away. He waited stiffly, a part of him believing that she would shout at him to get out, but nothing happened.

  Finally, he stepped inside and shut the door closed behind him.

  The silence inside her bedroom was painfully heavy, and Christien swallowed hard. “I suppose you’re surprised to see me.”

  Although she still didn’t answer, she did turn to face him again, and the billionaire finally had a good look of Kharis. Blonde curls loosely framed her face, and her lovely brown eyes were wide but unreadable. She was in another one of her nightshirts, this time a pink My Little Pony that fell a few inches past her knee. It made her look a hell of a lot younger and a thousand times more innocent, enough to make him suck in his breath.

  Was he really going through with this?

  It had him almost hesitating, almost withdrawing. If he probably had more than a second to think about it, he might’ve thought, fuck it. He might’ve walked away for good because Kharis deserved someone so much better than him.

  He might’ve done all those things if he had just one second to think.

  But he didn’t.

  It was already too late, the decision made for him the moment her lips slowly moved.

  “Christien.”

  And all the things that he wanted, together with all the things that terrified him, were in her voice.

  She loved him still.

  The fact barely registered in the billionaire’s mind before Kharis threw herself at him. The sudden weight of her had him grunting, but even so his arms automatically locked around her.

  Finally. Finally. Finally.

  The feel of her, the scent of her – he had missed her when they were apart, but he hadn’t realized just how much until now. It was like holding heaven and hell, but even so he knew now he wouldn’t ever trade it for anything, not even his life, not even his honor.

  His skin slowly became wet, and his throat tightened when he realized that the moisture came from her tears.

  He started to say her name, needing to apologize, wanting to promise that he would make it up to her, but Kharis’ words spilled out first – soft and halting, but filled with conviction.

  “I knew you’d come,” she whispered. “They all thought you wouldn’t…” She hid her face in the crook of his neck. “But I knew you would.”

  Her faith in him was unlike anything he knew, and he could only shake his head with self-loathing. Pulling away so he could tip her chin up and look into her eyes, he asked harshly, “Why do you believe in me so much? Why aren’t you even mad?”

  She shook her head back at him. “I was mad, but more than that---” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “I was hurt. And sad. I missed you so much, and it broke my heart that you could stay away from me for so long.”

  “I’m sorry, Kharis.” His voice was hard and bleak at the same time. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
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  A smile wobbled on her lips. “I thought as much. You carry a lot of baggage with you, Christien di Luca.” She laid her head against his chest. “But I also knew I simply had to wait, and you’d come back to me.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “But you did.” This time, it was Kharis who pulled away, and when her brown eyes met his again, they were bright and shining. “You came back to me, Christien,” she whispered, “because you love me.”

  Ah. A thousand things ran in his mind, a thousand possibilities of how things could go right or wrong. Maybe this was exactly what Nick had said. Maybe all he needed to do was let her show him that his heart still worked. Maybe it was that and so much more, but this time he didn’t want any lies between them.

  “Kharis…” He forced himself to release her. “I have something to tell you. Okay?”

  Fear flashed in her eyes as he spoke, and she blurted out, “Are you going to leave me---” Her voice caught. “Again?”

  Aghast at how much she had misread him, he said right away, “No. It’s nothing like that at all. It’s something to do with our future. And my past.” The last words had the billionaire unconsciously twisting the ring around his fingers, the only personal memento he had left from his father.

  “Y-your past?”

  “I need you to understand the kind of man I am and why I’m like this. It’s the only way I can feel right about staying in your life.” He took a deep breath. “I know this is going to surprise you…” The thought of what he was about to reveal had the billionaire edgy, and he unthinkingly pulled the ring off his finger. Looking down, he missed the way Kharis’ mouth formed an O of shock, missed the way her eyes started to well up a moment later.

  For better or for worse, the billionaire thought grimly, he had to tell her the truth.

  He slowly turned to her---

  “Yes!” And Kharis once again threw herself in his arms. “Absolutely yes!”

  His arms instinctively went around her even as his mind valiantly tried to make sense of her words. Yes? What did she mean yes?

  A sweet but tremulous smile curved on Kharis’ lips. “I knew you felt it, too.” Pulling away, she looked down at his hands.

  And the ring he was holding.

  His head jerked up.

  She put her hand out.

  Three words struck his mind, and it was like déjà vu.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  Tears started falling down her cheeks, and the billionaire found himself swallowing hard---

  NO. FUCKING. WAY.

  ---just before clumsily stepping forward and sliding his ring on her finger.

  The band was plain, silver instead of platinum or white gold, and the fit was obviously loose. But even so, he saw Kharis staring at it with shining eyes. It was almost as if he had given her a ten-carat diamond engagement ring.

  “Oh, C-Christien.” Looking up at him, she breathed, “Thank you.” And then she glanced back at her ring again as if it was a magnet to her gaze. “It’s just so pretty, baby boy. I really love it,” Kharis said ever so sweetly.

  “I’m glad you do.” Christien managed to keep his tone steady even as his head continued to reel. He was engaged. Engaged.

  “But---” Her gaze lifted to his, and this time her eyes were dark and narrowed. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you owe me.”

  “I haven’t.” Christien’s face became stoic. Although he knew Kharis had every right to make him pay, it disconcerted him that she was going about it this way, maybe even disappointed him a little---

  But it’s what she deserves, he strove to remind himself, considering how you’ve hurt and abandoned her again and again.

  “Then you promise to make it up to me? You’ll keep your word?”

  “Yes.” Whatever it was, he would give it to her.

  “Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment then asked, “How do we start?”

  “It’s up to you,” he said evenly. “I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do.” He saw uncertainty flicker in her eyes, and he stressed quietly, “I mean it, Kharis. Whatever you want.”

  “O-okay.” His brows pleated as she slowly withdrew from him and sat on the edge of her bed. “C-can you go first then?”

  “First?”

  “I know you’re going to think I’m silly, but it’s been so long and I can’t help feeling awkward again.” A smile flashed on her lips. “Silly, right?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all.” And it wasn’t. Rather, this whole thing was confusing, and he was starting to think they were talking at cross-purposes. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Kharis?”

  “Y-yes?”

  “What exactly are we talking about?”

  A pale shade of pink touched her cheeks. “Why do I need to spell it out,” she mumbled.

  “Just humor me, please.”

  She made a face. “You’re so unfair. You know what it does to me when you say please.”

  “I don’t actually, but since you mentioned it---” He gave her a polite smile. “Please?”

  Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Oh, fine.” She patted the empty space beside her. “I don’t want you looming over me when I say it. You’re just making me more nervous.”

  You’re not the only one, Christien thought grimly. It was beginning to dawn on him that he had completely misconstrued her words and the reality was much worse. It almost made him wish she were a vengeful, materialistic bitch instead.

  Because if she was not---

  Kharis’ smile was nearly blinding when he finally occupied the space next to her, the bed dipping under his weight. It made him want to kiss her, pull her in his arms, and do other things---

  That he didn’t deserve to do, the billionaire reminded himself, so he had to stop fucking thinking about them if he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night under a cold shower.

  “So…”

  His gaze took in the way her breasts rose and fell under the thin fabric of her nightshirt, and his fists clenched when he realized that she wasn’t wearing any bra.

  “You promised me something a year ago.”

  He had?

  “You said…” She gulped then continued breathlessly, “You said you’d make love to me when I turn eighteen.”

  Fuck.

  “And well---” Kharis’ lips curved into a shy, sweet smile. “I’m eighteen now.”

  Chapter 14

  Women throwing themselves at him were nothing new to Christien. The billionaire had long lost count of the number of women that had tried to sneak into his hotel room when he was on a business trip, and there had even been an instance when he had received a video of a woman hoping to arouse his attention by licking her own breasts and finger-fucking her own pussy.

  Over the years, their attempts to seduce him had ranged from exotic to downright bizarre and desperate, but none of them had ever managed to make him pay them more than a few seconds of his time. In the past, he had assumed this was so because he was the type that preferred to pursue rather than being pursued. It was also why, he had further assumed, he had kept Karolina around for so long. Unlike other women, Karolina had no trouble living her life apart from him, and she knew when to cater to him and when to give him space.

  And for so long, that was how it had been. No woman – not even his long-term mistress – had ever occupied his mind to the point of being an obsession. Or at least no woman had been able to…until Kharis.

  “Sir? Boss? Mr. Di Luca?”

  Christien grimaced when he realized he had lost himself in his thoughts again, and it was all because of that damn little mutant of his. When his gaze met his chauffeur’s through the rearview mirror, Elmer said hesitantly, “We’ve reached the school, sir. Would you like me to drive you up---”

  Glancing outside the window, the billionaire shook his head, saying gruffly, “This is good enough.” It was less conspicuous this way.

  Stepping out of the limousine, the billionaire w
alked for the rest of the way until he made it to the front doors of Kharis’ high school. Heads turned as he walked past them, people openly gawking at his appearance.

  The billionaire couldn’t blame them. Although he was appropriately dressed in his pinstriped suit, he had also paired it with a ski mask that completely covered his face, the sole purpose of which was to hide his identity.

  When he made it to the auditorium, there was a moment of stark silence and then everyone started whispering while all eyes followed his every movement. The noise of the whispers increased when he took his seat next to Kharis’ grandfather.

  “Security let you in like that?” Paul asked with a grunt.

  “Didn’t even blink an eye,” the billionaire answered. And it was true, thanks to the generous amount he had deposited to the school’s account.

  “I don’t even understand what it’s for,” Paul grumbled, “since everyone here still knows it’s you.”

  “It may be so,” the billionaire acknowledged, “but words mean nothing nowadays without photos.” They could talk about him all they wanted. What mattered was that his presence didn’t overshadow Kharis’ graduation and ruin the normal life he was adamant she’d continue to enjoy.

  In a couple of minutes, the graduating students of Angel Falls High started filing in, and everyone in the auditorium started clapping while a couple of alumni at the back hooted and yelled, Freedom, a-holes! Gasps and laughter followed this, but throughout it the billionaire remained silent, his gaze pinned on the only person that mattered.

  Kharis looked radiant under her white academic dress, and for a rare change, her makeup didn’t seem like it was patterned after a clown’s. Instead, it was the right mix of subtle and dramatic, with a minimal use of colors: light gray eye shadow, dark eyeliner, the palest blush on her cheeks, and peach-colored lipstick. It transformed her from girl to woman---

  Twinkling brown eyes met blue ones, and from across the auditorium, Kharis winked at him---

  Ah, fuck.

  In spite of the ski mask hiding his face, color still darkened the billionaire’s high-boned cheeks as smirking glances went his way. What was it with Kharis and winking? Didn’t she know it was so damn…cute?