“Boy did good.”
Sofia giggled. Callie’s approval wasn’t often given, and Ivo and Jonas were both terrified of her in an almost-half-joking way. Ivo beamed and Sofia swiped his butt. “Good boy,” she whispered and he laughed.
Inside and outside, they had decorated the villa with strings of tiny white lights, candles guttered in mason jars around the patio and the pool, and a table of food lay covered, ready to be demolished. Sofia gaped at it all. “You did this in…” she checked her wrist watch, “four hours?”
“Like I said,” Ivo laughed, “it was a military operation. I was going to hire people to do it for us, but Peony and the kids insisted.”
Sofia felt close to tears again and she hugged the children. “You three are amazing, I love you so much.” She kissed their cheeks and the boys made disgusted faces and ran off, but Peony flushed with pleasure. She had always adored her step-mother, who had, after all, helped her mother give birth to her. Sofia adored her right back, telling her often that when she, Sofia, had a little girl, she wanted her to be just like Peony. Clemence encouraged their friendship—she and Sofia had grown as close as sisters in the years that had passed since Peony’s birth.
Sofia chatted to everyone, and when it came time to eat, they sat around the long table under the pergola and ate and talked and laughed. Sofia looked around the table at all the people she loved and felt so overwhelmingly lucky that she felt the tears coming again.
“Hey, hey,” said Ivo in a gentle voice, but she smiled at him.
“Happy tears, I swear, baby. Thank you so much for this, for everything.”
Ivo kissed her. “I love you, baby, so very much.”
Sofia felt her emotions overwhelm her and she buried her face in Ivo’s neck to hide her tears. She heard an ‘aww’ go around the table and chuckled as she felt a laugh rumble through Ivo’s big body. She wiped her face. “Ignore me, I’m just hormonal or something. Thank you all for being here.”
“Speaking of which, time for a speech,” Ivo said and she looked at him in surprise. Her husband wasn’t one for public speaking, even amongst friends.
He raised his glass and took Sofia’s hands. “Today, we come together to celebrate your thirtieth birthday, baby. Nine years ago, I went swimming and found a mermaid.”
Sofia groaned and Ivo laughed. “Listen, wife, better get used to the cheese because there’s more of it coming.” He gave a discreet nod to Jonas, who smiled and left the table. “Sofia…you have given me the world, two incredible sons, and you also had a big hand—so to speak—in bringing our beautiful Peony into the world too.”
“Hear, hear!” Clemence raised her glass and Peony beamed at her step-mother. Ivo smiled at them both then turned his eyes back to his blushing wife.
“I could never have dreamed that I would be lucky enough to find someone like you,” Ivo said, the emotion clear in his voice. “That terrible day all those years ago, when I thought you were lost to me—to us—was like a living death to me.” His voice broke and he took a moment to gather himself. “But, of course, I should not have worried. You are a warrior, Sofia. A fighter, a survivor, and I love you so very, very much. Happy birthday, my darling.”
There was a chorus of ‘Happy birthdays’ as her family and friends raised a glass to her, and then Sofia saw Jonas lead in an elderly man she didn’t know. Ivo went to meet him and helped him walk towards Sofia. “Sofia, this is Giovanni Menti, the owner of this villa. Giovanni, my wife, Sofia.”
The elderly man smiled at Sofia. “I see young Ivo didn’t exaggerate your beauty, Bella. Happy birthday.”
She kissed his cheeks. “It’s wonderful to meet you, sir. Your villa has been a haven this past week.”
Giovanni shared a grin with Ivo. “I’m glad you think so.”
He nodded at Ivo and Ivo smiled at Sofia. “Darling, Giovanni’s come here today to help me with the last part of your birthday gift.” Giovanni handed Ivo an envelope and Ivo gave it to Sofia. She opened it and drew out some legal documents. They were written in Italian, and Sofia tried her best to make heads or tails of them. Finally she looked at Ivo, who grinned.
“Baby, these are the deeds to this villa. As of today, it belongs to you.”
Sofia’s hand flew to her mouth, so utterly shocked was she, and laughter broke out around the table. “Ivo…I…can’t believe it.”
She stood, rather shakily, and almost fell into his arms. He held her tightly. “I knew pretty quickly you’d fallen in love with the place so I called Giovanni. He was more than happy to sell it to me. It’s yours, sweetheart.”
“Ours” she said, and kissed him fiercely. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Later, when most of their guest had gone, Sofia and Ivo showed the boys their new home. They quickly chose the bedrooms they wanted and were telling Peony about their plans. “And you choose yours too, Pea,” Sofia said. “And you can come whenever you want to, if your mom says it’s okay.”
Peony grinned and went off to explore. Outside, Jonas and Camille were trying to round up their brood, and Desiree was chatting with Clemence. Sofia stood at the window and shook her head as Ivo slid his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder. She turned in his arms, gazing up at him. “You have given me the world, my love.”
“You are my world,” he said simply, and pressed his lips to hers. Sofia took his hand and pressed it to her belly, watching his eyes widen.
“I took four of the tests we bought,” she whispered softly. “Congratulations, you’re going to be a daddy again…”
And she kissed him, knowing that their family was complete.
The End.
Tremble “A Billionaire Romance Story”
By Michelle Love
Manhattan…
It had been many years since Pendleton ‘Penn’ Black had frequented one of these clubs, but he still couldn’t believe he was contemplating it. Since the horror of discovering his duplicitous lover Tamara Rutland had murdered his sister and then tried to kill his close friend – and sometime lover – Sofia Zacca, Penn had lived an almost monastic life. Almost nine years. Tamara had been dead for that long, and now, Penn felt it was time to move on.
Except…he no longer felt the pull of the S&M world. Maybe you just grew up, he said to himself, but he couldn’t help but feel a little unsatisfied with his life. He had all the money a man could ever need, especially after selling his company earlier that year. New York had lost its excitement for him and he for it, and now he was contemplated a move. To where, he did not know yet, but tomorrow, he would fly to Los Angeles and see if West Coast living was more his style now.
He threw back his drink and headed out of the club, grabbing his coat and throwing it over his naked body. He ignored the admiring glances of the woman, and some of the man, and stalked out. No, this life wasn’t for him anymore.
Los Angeles…
The next morning, he stepped off the plane in California and into the sweltering heat of the day. In his air-conditioned limousine, he checked his messages. A party invite to The Chateau Marmont caught his eye. Sylvian Longchamp requests your pleasure at the launch of his new book of high-art photographs. Black tie for the gentlemen, high fashion for ladies, please.
Penn smirked, rolling his eyes. Sylvian was a long-term friend, an unashamedly pretentious poseur, but who was also an absolute genius behind the camera. A flamboyant homosexual, he and Penn had occasionally hooked up when Penn felt adventurous, but not for many years now but their friendship had grown deep and abiding. He would go alone to the infamous hotel and support his friend, he decided.
The Chateau Marmont at the end of Sunset Boulevard was buzzing by the time Penn arrived. Rather than run the gamut of press swarming around the front of the hotel, he ducked into a side entrance, tipping a young staffer generously for the favor. Walking into the party, he swiftly grabbed a flute of champagne and drained it, needing to take the edge of his nerves.
“You deranged slut!”
; He heard the man scream and looked out of the window to the garden below. A tall, slim woman with a platinum blonde buzzcut was stalking away from a sweaty-looking man who, by the looks of it, was reeling from being punched forcefully in the face. Penn smirked, liking the ‘deranged slut’ already. He watched her stalk around the garden like a big cat, all long legs and attitude, a cigarette in her hand. She must have sensed his scrutiny as she looked up at the window. Their eyes met – and held. Then slowly, she raised her hand and gave him the finger.
Penn grinned and the girl’s mouth twitched before she threw her cigarette down and stamped on it, before disappearing into the hotel. Penn felt slightly bereft – she had been stunningly beautiful and utterly captivating.
“Pendle-dong, you whore, why haven’t you said hello to me yet?”
Penn started to laugh even before he saw Sylvian. His friend was wearing a subdued (for him) blue velvet suit, expertly tailored to fit his lipo-suctioned and gym-sculptured body. Sylvian was at least seventy but looking at him, he could easily pass for fifty. He threw his arms around Penn, who hugged his friend.
“Congrats on the new book, dude. I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m sure it’s spectacular.”
Sylvian smiled. “Of course, it is. I found my muse, after all this time. Come meet Marlowe, wherever she’s hiding. Girl is like a ghost, I can never find her.”
Somehow Penn knew before he even saw her that Marlowe would be the girl from the garden. They found her, sitting outside of the party, on a wall, smoking a joint. She turned her kohl-ringed, bright blue eyes on Penn as Sylvian introduced them. She didn’t look friendly, her scarlet lips pursed in a thin line. Penn couldn’t help but admire her attitude – it made a change from all the fawning people inside the party.
“Hey,” he said and she rolled her eyes.
“Hey yourself.” She lit another cigarette from the joint.
“Darlings, I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” Sylvian, a snaky grin on his face, slipped back into the party. Penn sat down on the wall beside her without being invited, and casually pulled a cigarette from her pack, holding it out for her to light it. Marlowe hesitates then did so, a small smile playing around her lips.
“So,” Penn said, taking a deep inhale of smoke, “Nice left hook.”
“I’m right handed.”
“Then, nice right hook.”
Marlowe picked a scrap of tobacco from her tongue and studied him. “Wanna know why I did it?”
“If you want to tell me.”
She paused then shrugged. “Not really.”
“That’s cool. He probably deserved it, whatever your reason.”
Marlowe gave her first genuine smile. It softened her otherwise hard face. “He did.” She nodded towards the party. “Most of them could do with a beating.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“You’re not from Los Angeles, are you?”
“New York.”
“Ah. Noo Yoick.”
He chuckled at her attempt at an accent. “Almost. So, you’re Sylvian’s muse.”
“So he says.”
“I haven’t seen the photographs yet.”
“They don’t even look like me.” She sounded bleak suddenly and Penn wondered why.
“Who do they look like?”
“Someone I’m pretending to be.”
“And who is that?”
Marlowe looked away from his intense gaze. “Someone other people think I am.”
Penn nodded. She was an intriguing one for sure. Underneath that punky attitude and style, she looked…lost. “Who are you, then? What makes your heart race, your adrenaline spike?”
She looked vaguely surprised. “Usually people tell me I’m lucky, that other woman would kill to be in my position. Money, position, so-called beauty.” Her kohl-ringed eyes regarded him, and he realized she was testing him.
“Those things are only blessings if they mean something to you. Do people ask what’s important to you?”
She smiled. “No.”
“Then that’s what I’m asking.” Penn kept his gaze on hers, steady and interested. Sylvian was right – she was flighty, like a ghost. Penn could see how poised she was to run away from him, so he kept his questions honest.
Marlowe hesitated, then smiled. “Dogs. Books. Fall leaves – not that we ever really get Fall here. Or Autumn. I like the British word for Fall better – Autumn. I like the Pacific Northwest, where I come from.” She looked up at the infamous hotel. “I like the mystery of this place, even if I don’t like the showbiz aspect of it. There’s a romance and tragedy here I feel a kinship with.” She smiled at him. “I like Sylvian. Underneath that swagger is a kind and gentle man.”
Her face clouded. “I hate being an object of strangers’ lust. It’s an intrusion, a violation but I don’t know what else to do. Making the money I do will someday allow me to disappear back into obscurity. Peace.”
Penn nodded. “Can I ask a personal question?”
“You can ask. I don’t have to answer.”
Penn grinned. “Sure. How old are you?”
Marlowe grinned. “Twenty-four. How old are you?”
“Forty-four.”
“So, you’re going to school me on life?”
“Hell, no, I’m not qualified. I’ve fucked up more times than I can tell you. I suppose that is life. You’ll fucked up too. We all do.”
Marlowe suddenly touched her fingers to his face. Penn was startled but didn’t draw away. Marlowe studied him, gently smoothing her fingers over his eye lids. “You don’t look much older than me…but you do look…tired. No, that’s not the right word. Shattered.”
Her words sent a spear of pain through his heart but he just smiled. “I’m good.”
“You’re different,” she said, her hand still on his skin. “I mean, you’re beautiful, but you’re not arrogant. There’s pain there, I can see it.” She leaned forward to stare into his eyes. “Who did you lose, Penn Black?”
Myself. The word came to him unbidden and he looked away, realizing the truth of it. “I have to go inside, support Sylvian.”
She drew away nodding, as if reading his mind. “Yes.” She gave a little laugh. “Funny, I thought I’d be the one to run away.”
Penn stood, wanting to refute what she was saying, but knew she was right. She had gotten too close. “Guess I am a surprise.”
“Yes,” she said bleakly, “you are.”
The launch went off successfully and Sylvian was overjoyed. At the end of the evening, he embraced Penn, hugging him tightly. “Thank you for coming, friend, I’m delighted.”
Penn congratulated his friend, and went out to find the valet who parked his car. He handed over his ticket and waited. A small hand was slipped into his and he looked around to see Marlowe, her face scrubbed clean of the heavy make-up she had been wearing earlier. No more dark-ringed eyes, or scarlet lips. She looked at him silently and he nodded. They got into his car and he drove them back to his hotel.
In his suite, he saw she was trembling hard and poured them both a double scotch. “Sit down, sweetheart,” he said softly, “nothing has to happen unless you want it too. We can just talk. We can just sit, watch some trashy tv shows, eat pizza. Sound good?”
He saw her visibly relax and smiled. “Deal. Let me call out for some pizza...any preference?”
“Fully loaded.”
“Good choice.” He grinned at her. Marlowe smiled back and kicked her boots off, curled her legs up under her. Penn went to change into jeans and a sweater and when the pizza arrived, they both fell on it as if they were half starved. Old episodes of Friends played on the tv, and after a while Marlowe shifted closer to Penn. He smiled at her and tentatively put his arm round her. She snuggled into his chest and they stayed like that for an hour or so before Penn realized she had fallen asleep. He kissed the top of her hair. This was so weird for him – usually, when he had a beautiful woman in his room, they would be fucking like animals before he would ask them to le
ave. Penn had never had…this. Marlowe, in contrast to the angry girl he had first seen, had obviously decided he was ‘safe’ and Penn realized that he actually liked the idea of this closeness. He thought back to Tamara – even though he had thought he loved her, after her death and the revelation she was a psychopath, he felt his view of women, especially beautiful women, would always be cynical. He reminded himself that his friend Sofia was also a loving, sweet mother of three now, that she too was good-hearted and he knew, with a pang, that Marlowe reminded him of Sofia.
Damaged. Penn knew where Sofia had come from and he was willing to bet Marlowe also had some pain in her past. He felt angry at a world that would seek to hurt a young vulnerable woman but he knew – it was an everyday story in this world.
He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep until he felt soft lips against his. He opened his eyes to see Marlowe drawing back from him, her eyes wide, nervous. He smiled and leaned forward to press his lips against hers.
“Penn…I…”
He knew, of course, what she was about to say. She was a virgin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Nothing has to happen. Let’s enjoy this for a while.”
Again, her body relaxed, but Penn felt himself tremble as they kissed gently. A rush of emotions was swirling around his being and he could not fathom what they meant.
“Penn…I want…I want to…with you,” Marlowe’s voice shook and he stroked his face.
“Sweet one…only if you’re one-hundred percent sure. That’s not why I brought you here, I swear. And if this sounds like a line – it isn’t. I’m too old to be playing games like that, I’ve seen too much pain. It’s way too soon to ask you to trust me but…”
Nobody's Girl: A Billionaire Romance Novel Page 25