Aaliyah and the Billionaire's Lamp

by Catelyn Meadows

  His body temperature went up a few more degrees.

  Aaliyah’s hands were on his shoulders. She tipped her face to his. Her lashes were dark and thick, framing obsidian eyes and dusting across her smooth skin with every blink.

  He attempted to tell her why he’d actually come. For Zayn. Right. Contacting the press, to let them know about the wedding date. River intended to mention how this might entice her foolhardy fiancé to get his hide back here, but she was leaning into him the way she had on the overlook, and his thoughts skittered.

  “The man came to the woman’s door, just like this,” Aaliyah began, her tone sultry. “She hadn’t expected him to, but she’d been thinking about him and the amazing afternoon they’d spent together, and so the surprise at seeing him at her door was like quiet explosives.”

  It took only seconds for him to grasp her reference. This was no movie. He considered backing away, seeing as how he’d just given Zayn grief for kissing a woman he shouldn’t have.

  But River’s feet were rooted. Curiosity was taking the wheel.

  “And the man, in the movie you were watching?” River asked. “What did he do?”

  Her hands slid up his shoulders and to the back of his neck. “He put his arms around her.”

  Everything in him warned him not to. She was forbidden, off-limits, and promised to his boss. He ignored the warning and let his hands settle on her waist. She was slim beneath his touch, and the feel of her sent tingles through his fingertips.

  “Like this?”

  She chewed her lip. “Not quite. A little closer.”

  Oh, but she was agony. River tightened his grip around her, drawing her nearer.

  “Better,” she said.

  “You know, for some reason, I’m not sure this is how your movie played out,” he said softly.

  She toyed with the hair at the base of his neck. “My version is better, actually.”

  “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

  She angled her head. “Because it’s you.”

  He couldn’t do this. They couldn’t do this. It took everything in him to pull away.

  He lowered his hands, attempting to keep his distance. “You do know it’s me, right? River? Not Zayn.”

  “I think that lamp of yours is working its luck already. I was daydreaming of you all afternoon since our ride. I was wishing I had the courage to come to your door, and here you are at mine.”

  “Aaliyah.” His voice sounded groggy. He cleared it. This was definitely not why he’d come. “I came here to talk to you about Zayn.”

  She inched closer again. Soon he would be sandwiched between her and the door. He breathed her in. She smelled of berries and rose water.

  “What about him?” she asked. “Does he have a new message for me?”

  “I think they’re planning to present your wedding date to the press. I wanted to tell you before I forgot, but I didn’t realize what time it was.”

  She tipped her head to her shoulder. “I know. My father told me.”

  His brow puzzled. “And you’re okay with that? It’s what you’ve set out to do, isn’t it?”

  Again, her teeth trapped her bottom lip. “No. I’m not okay with it. Not when I want to be with someone else.”

  What was going on with her? Why was she acting this way? Sure, they’d shared an incredible afternoon together, and he’d wanted it to be more than just him filling in for her real fiancé. But it couldn’t be. Not if this was what her father had arranged. Not if this was what she’d agreed to, what Zayn had agreed to. Why was he the only one who saw that?

  “He could call me,” Aaliyah went on. “Talk to me. Instead, I’m hearing everything from you and my father. He isn’t even trying to get to know me. Why should I want anything to do with him?”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  She grinned, exuberant, filled with energy. She drew away just enough for her fingers to find his. “I don’t know. I’ve been giddy all afternoon ever since our drive. Since you gave me that lamp. Maybe it really is lucky. I’m going to talk to my father, River. I’m going to tell him how I feel about you. I’m going to prove to him I don’t need a man by my side in order to run his company.”

  Hope pounded in River’s heart. “How?”

  “By moving forward with the renovations I’ve been planning. By contacting our financial advisors and doing the kind of things I know how to do. I’ve always been obedient to a fault, but I’m tired of conforming to the path he’s laid out for me. There’s something else, River.” Her eyes flashed, darting back and forth between his.

  “I—” Words seemed to escape her. She drew in a breath, peered at his mouth, his eyes again, and then she rushed in, pressing her lips to his.

  His eyebrows shot up. Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her away. The act was like tearing a strip of duct tape from his skin. “Wait.”

  Her eyes widened in confusion. “Don’t you care about me?”

  The question was so sweet, so innocent, it affected him. He stroked her cheek. “I do. Aaliyah, believe me, I wish it could be different too.”

  Her tone grew adamant. She placed her hand on his. “Why? Why can’t it be different?”

  “I can’t tell you.” He couldn’t admit the way she’d made him feel the past two days. Like he was more than just a glorified errand boy. Like he mattered and was appreciated. Like the future he’d been hoping for could be possible.

  “Didn’t you like kissing me?”

  “I—yes.” She was fizzling right through his resolve like a tablet in water.

  Her hand guided his back to her waist. She tiptoed up, pressing against him, trapping him with those obsidian eyes.

  “But that doesn’t mean we should,” he finished.

  “I think we should. I didn’t show you this part of the movie,” she said under her breath. Her low voice ignited a dragon inside of him. He fought hard, so hard, not to give in. The closer she got, the more sense fled. She was overriding him, replacing his good sense for desire, and she was about to win the battle.

  River gave in. He released all the thoughts of shouldn’t and can’t and allowed them to scatter helter-skelter in every direction. He surrendered his hand to where she was leading it. He surrendered his lips to hers.

  The touch of her mouth was like fire. It lit with a blaze and a kick of heat, igniting flames to brighten up the darkness. She was sweetness and softness and goodness. Her skin was soft, so soft, and he trailed a hand up her spine, angling his head for a new perspective.

  “That,” she said breathlessly, holding him, keeping her head tipped upward toward his, “was better than any movie.”

  “True,” he said. “But it can’t happen again.”

  Her eyes flashed upward. “An engagement as false as mine with Zayn is hardly worth counting.”

  River released her, stepping past her farther into her room. He stopped and rested a hand on a pink, fur-covered chair. Her suite was similar to his, but it appeared much more lived-in. Picture frames on surfaces, vases of lilies, the fluffy chair, a blanket that didn’t match the décor on the cushy loveseat. Of course; this was her home.

  Aaliyah mirrored him with confusion and the slightest trace of hurt in her eyes. He wanted to soothe her, to hold her and even kiss her again, but now that he’d added some distance between them, drops of sense began popping back into his mind.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Under different circumstances, I’d love to keep kissing you. But I work for Zayn. He’s my friend.”

  Aaliyah stared at her carpet for several moments before returning her gaze to his. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m the one who should apologize. But I have no intention of marrying Zayn.”

  River coughed, blinking as though he hadn’t heard her correctly. “You—what?”

  She inched over, close to him but not touching. “My father said the date is set, but I can’t accept that, not with a man who isn’t even trying to get to know me. Doesn’t he want to know who he’s marrying?�
��

  “Zayn is busy. He’s working with a nightmare of a client right now, and all of his attention…” River drifted off, deciding not to finish. He couldn’t lie to protect Zayn either. What could he say that would make this easier for both Aaliyah and Zayn?

  Aaliyah sniffed. “He calls you, right? And sends you texts like the one earlier today?”

  “Yes, he does. But I’m his—”

  “He’s spoken with my father too, but doesn’t it seem like I’m the one who matters in this? I don’t mean to sound selfish, but it’s kind of true. This whole engagement—” She spat the word. “It’s so empty. So false it’s almost painful.”

  “Aaliyah, I—”

  “He hasn’t even asked me to marry him,” she said, her voice dejected. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no wedding.”

  “From what I hear, they’re preparing to announce it to the press,” River said. “That’s the reason I came, to make sure you knew about their intentions.”

  Considering Zayn’s behavior lately, River wanted to warn her off, to insist she leave, go anywhere else but where he would be. Why did that feel like a betrayal of his friend? He’d had every intention of informing her as much. It was the whole reason he’d come here, but it sounded like she intended on ending things. Maybe it would be better left alone.

  “Tell me you want to be with me,” she said.

  River’s insides plummeted. He meant it when he said Zayn was his friend. How could he be with her, even if things between her and Zayn ended amicably? Besides, he had nothing to offer her, not until the investments he’d made panned out. He was hoping for billionaire status, but then again, wasn’t everyone? It wasn’t like he was going to get it overnight. Or even in the next decade.

  He stepped nearer. “I want to be with you.”

  “But?”

  He caressed her cheek, taking in as much of her eager expression as he could. This touch, this caress, was all he could ever give her.

  “I can’t be what your father wants me to be. Or rather, the kind of man your father wants you to marry.”

  She brushed it off, arresting his hand again. “My father likes you, or he wouldn’t have invited you here.”

  River shook his head. “That was just a courtesy based on the interactions we’ve had lately, what with me arranging meetings for him with Zayn. Nothing more.”

  “There’s still time before Papa goes to the press. I’ll talk to him. Let me see what I can do.” She pressed a kiss to his palm and spoke in a voice meant only for him. “I want more afternoons like we had today, River. More kisses, more midnight visits behind closed doors.”

  “You’re killing me here,” he said, drawing his hand free, retreating, determined to keep his self-control where it belonged.

  “Don’t you want that?”

  “I—”

  “If Zayn wasn’t in the picture—?” she suggested.

  “You and I would never have met.” The irony was never clearer than in that moment.

  She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Maybe it’s fate for that very reason. Some things are just meant to be.”

  River couldn’t deny he liked the way she was talking. He wanted this too, to see if they could be something together.

  Hope began to swell inside of him. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was possible if she was upfront with her father, and with Zayn. He wasn’t sure how Zayn would take the news, but he couldn’t be that surprised. A worry still nagged him, warning him that a relationship with Aaliyah would forever jeopardize his friendship with Zayn, but he pushed it aside.

  “You keep rubbing that lamp,” River said with a give-up grin, “and it’s going to go to your head.”

  Aaliyah grinned too before folding herself into his embrace. River stiffened before relenting. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame.

  His pulse surged with a sense of victory that warred with his logic. It told him not to get too attached. There could never be anything between him and Aaliyah. This hug would be his final sinful indulgence.

  Apparently, Aaliyah wasn’t experiencing the same misgivings he was. “I’m going to talk to him tomorrow, River,” she said as her cheek rested against his heart. “It will work out for us, I can feel it.”

  She fit perfectly against him. He held her, basking in her warmth. Her hope, her determination, each awakened a new horizon in his mind. Could a life with her be possible? Would she be able to convince her father?

  She seemed so certain. River hoped she was right because he could think of more than a dozen ways things could go wrong.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The lamp sat on Aaliyah’s bathroom counter like a mystical thing. Aaliyah crouched before it for a better glimpse of its brassy finish and inlaid detailing. River’s account of his adventure with his grandfather played through her mind. He’d found this in a cave? How completely random.

  Not quite as random as not only spending the afternoon with River but coming onto him when he’d showed up at her door. Aaliyah had kissed him, had blurted her growing feelings for him without shame. What had she been thinking? She’d acted so drunk, and she didn’t drink.

  She’d been drunk on love, and on luck.

  “You must be doing something for me,” she told the lamp. “Because I never act the way I did last night.”

  Her own adventure seemed to be kick-starting. She never would have told River how she was feeling for him. She never would have considered standing up to her father a second time. Second times were akin to a death sentence when she’d been growing up. She’d learned early on to obey the first request.

  But kissing River? Hearing him say he wanted her too? She craved that. She wanted to be wanted, to be more to someone she cared about in return.

  She never would have pegged herself as being quite so romantic, but in all reality, she was head-over-heels wild to have someone love her. Someone who was down to earth, someone she could talk to.

  This was her father’s fault, really. With his focus on marriage, he’d been the one to put the idea into her head. She wanted to run his business; she never thought she wanted to marry. But now that it was happening, she was struck by the thought. Struck by having someone as amazing as River by her side for the rest of her life.

  She wanted him, and with the lamp’s luck, she’d do what it took to get him.

  After her breakfast tray had been delivered, her usual fruit and muesli devoured, she placed the dishes near the door and headed to her closet.

  Aaliyah decided not to wear a business suit for this, but jeans and a black and white striped blouse with ruching along the collar and sleeves. The nervous zing she’d fought when she presented her concepts to him not more than a week ago was replaced by boosted determination.

  This was her life. It was time she took charge of it.

  Aaliyah did her makeup and tied her hair into a side braid that hung down one shoulder. She brushed her teeth and gave herself a final once-over before swiping the lamp from the counter.

  “Come on,” she told it. “Let’s see just how far your luck goes.”

  Papa was sitting in the adjoining room of his suite, not where she’d met with River and Zayn, but connected to it. A desk nested on a rug in the room’s center. The corner wall behind the desk was completely glass, giving the room the impression of being larger than it was. It provided a delicious outlook on the ocean, something Aaliyah didn’t always appreciate as much as she should.

  Papa stood with one hand on the silver beam separating the panes of glass. His hair was buzzed short. It made him appear older and emphasized the weariness wearing on his brow.

  Remorse riddled Aaliyah. She’d completely forgotten about his haircut. How hard that must have been for him.

  She hated that she was fretting over men at a time like this. Her father was so fragile. So human, with frailties and good intentions.

  But she was human too. She was a woman who ached to be recognized, respected, and loved. She was in this situation because of h
er father, and she needed to talk this out.

  Papa peered back at her with a wistful smile. “How are things going?”

  She straightened her posture, calling forward the same courage she’d discovered the day before. “Not exactly as planned,” she said.

  He faced her, cupping his hands before him. He looked so gaunt. So tired. “No? Why not? Didn’t you go over wedding plans with Mr. Yevin yesterday?”

  Her lips thinned. “Do you hear what you’re asking, Papa? I shouldn’t be going over wedding plans with my fiancé’s assistant. I should be doing that with my fiancé, but where is he? He’s been gone since the agreement, and he can’t manage to spend any time with me. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Her father’s slice of displeasure slipped into a grimace. “I can see it bothers you.”

  She’d opened the wound. Might as well clear the infection. “You say you want companionship for me. You want me to have someone who will be my confidante and who can work by my side to help with the business. I can’t have that with a man who is always going to be gone managing his own business. Please, let me show you I can do this. Let me choose the man I want to be with.”

  His lips downturned. “You sound like you already have someone in mind.”

  Her heart chugged, urging her on. She cradled the lamp in her hands. “I like River, Papa. I’ve gotten to know him while Zayn has been away, and I really like him. I want to choose for myself, please let me do that.” Her voice was raw, pleading, grasping. He had to listen. Right now, she needed him to hear her.

  Papa stared at her. She gripped the lamp in her fist harder than she’d ever clung to anything before. Please let him give in, she prayed. Please let him support me, just this once.

  “River Yevin is your choice?”

  She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  “It doesn’t sound like he’s a very loyal man if he’s making advances toward a woman who is promised to someone else.”