‘I know I hurt you,’ he says, mistaking my pause for doubt. ‘I know I screwed up, monumentally, by letting you think, even for a second, that we were ever just about sex. When you told me I could find someone else to fuck for my last week in America, my God, Imogen, I wish you could have seen inside me and know how that made me feel.’
I shake my head urgently. ‘Don’t.’ I lift a finger to his lips. ‘I don’t want to talk about that morning. We were both hurting.’ I smile at him then, a smile that I think is laced with all my hopes for our future. ‘There’s no sense discussing the past when our future is waiting.’
His face shifts as comprehension dawns. ‘Do you mean...is that a “yes”?’
I laugh and push up on my tiptoes so I can kiss my acceptance into his mouth. ‘It’s a hell yes.’
* * *
‘They can’t wait to meet you.’ His expression is slightly sardonic.
I stand up, walking across the lounge. ‘It’s mutual.’
‘I have, however, told them in no uncertain terms to cancel the booking for the wedding venue in June.’ His expression is laced with affectionate exasperation.
I grimace. ‘How did they take that?’
‘They’re thrilled to hear there is going to be a wedding of any kind.’ He pulls me into his arms, moving his hips a little, dancing in time to the New Year’s Eve broadcast that’s on in the background.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ I say, despite the fact we’ve spent the last week living like hermits in his penthouse, pretty much in bed the whole time, except when hunger called.
‘It’s happening.’ He pulls me closer. Fireworks dance just beneath my skin. ‘How do you feel about watching the fireworks from the hot tub?’
‘I think that would be pretty perfect.’
It’s perfect out—a bright night, filled with stars and light, too cold even for snow, but the hot tub is warm and luxurious. I sink into it, naked, sighing.
‘I do love this city,’ I say with a smile, catching his eye as he steps into the water.
‘We can stay here, you know.’
It’s about the hundredth time he’s made that offer.
I smile. ‘I know.’
‘I mean it, Imogen. I came back here fully expecting that if I was lucky enough for you to accept my proposal it would mean that we spent our life right here, in America.’
‘I know. But I don’t want that.’
‘Seriously?’
‘I love New York, but I’m ready for a change.’ I move towards him so I can sit on his lap. ‘I can run The Billionaires’ Club from there, and I’ve been wanting to build a Chance presence in Europe for a long time. I’ve seriously been thinking about opening a Chance location in London. I don’t know what’s been holding me back but I do know nothing will stop me now.’ I smile at him, my happiness pouring out of me. ‘This is exciting for me, in lots of ways.’
‘Yeah.’ He grins and my heart flips over. I love how truly pumped he is for me—how proud he is. How much he wants me to pursue my dreams and see my future continue to revolve around helping others. ‘And New York’s only a quick flight away.’
‘Perfect for weekends,’ I agree, our life suddenly looking pretty damned blessed. And the thing is, having decided what I want most in life, I don’t really feel like waiting. I’ve never been one to overthink or delay, anyway. ‘You know, if your parents aren’t expecting us for another week, maybe we could take a little detour on the way.’
‘Yeah? Sydney?’ he teases with an arched brow.
I smile. ‘I was meaning more like Vegas.’
‘Vegas?’ He frowns and then, as comprehension dawns, he smiles. ‘You’re thinking, what? The Little White Chapel?’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not in-fucking-deed?’
‘Then we’d arrive in England already married. Unless you think your folks would hate to miss...’
‘Oh, they’d be livid.’ He grins. ‘But only until they realise I’m finally married and “settled down”. Besides, nothing will stop my mother from throwing you a “welcome to the family” party to end all parties.’
I expel a soft sigh, contentment bursting through me. I lift my hand out of the water, staring at the beautiful solitaire diamond Nicholas presented me with the day after Christmas. It’s round, at least ten carats and fits me like a glove. Just like him.
‘Then let’s do it.’ I smile, flipping over so I’m straddling him.
‘Say no more, Lady Rothsmore.’ He kisses me, slowly, sensually, and then pulls away. ‘It’s really what you want?’
I laugh, moving myself over him, taking him deep inside. ‘Count on it.’
* * *
We arrive in England, man and wife, partners in every way. Despite the fact I’ve only been here a handful of times, with Nicholas by my side, I know that I’ve come home.
* * *
If you enjoyed The Deal by Clare Connelly,
look out for the other stories in
The Billionaires Club continuity,
The Debt by Jackie Ashenden
The Risk by Caitlin Crews
The Proposition by JC Harroway
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Naughty or Nice by Rachael Stewart
Turn Me On by Dylan Rose
A Sinful Little Christmas by J. Margot Critch
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Naughty or Nice
by Rachael Stewart
PROLOGUE
>
I TWIST MY hands in front of me, the heel of one stiletto grinding into the plush carpet of my father’s study.
I know Lucas is going to follow me here. I saw it in his eyes. That same look I’ve caught several times over in the past few months...the same look I know I sport: want, desire—love.
I’ve loved him for years—long before Mum and Dad became his guardians...long before I really knew what it was that had my heart trying to leap out of my chest, my body throbbing, my tongue tied.
I’m eighteen. It’s my birthday party. It’s as good a time as any to tell him—or so I keep telling myself. I can’t go on keeping it locked up inside. But I’m scared. It doesn’t matter that I sense he feels the same, that I see the way he looks at me when he thinks no one else is watching.
I pin his expression in my mind, focus on it as I grab my flute of champagne and throw back the remainder. The hit of alcohol makes me wince, but I need it—Dutch courage. I return it to the side as I watch the door.
You love him. You can tell him. You have to.
I hear footsteps in the hallway, louder than the music from my party, underway further down the hall, and I take a breath, pressing my hands into my thighs, forcing them to still and hoping their dampness doesn’t mark the bright white of my dress.
The door opens and I can’t breathe.
‘Evangeline?’
His voice sends blood rushing through my body, my pulse rate skittering out of control.
‘Yes...’ It comes out like a whisper, my fear coming through, and it frustrates me. I want to be confident. I want him to see me as a woman, not the little sister of his best friend, Nate.
Get it together.
His head appears around the door, his gaze hesitant as he looks from me to the hallway and back again.
‘Hey.’
He steps inside but pauses, the confident twenty-one-year-old I usually see oddly absent. He’s boyish, uncertain, and my heart turns over.
‘Hey,’ I manage back, breathless.
We don’t move closer. My knees feel like jelly and his fingers tremble a little as he rakes one hand through his hair, his other still hanging on to the door handle.
Take control. You need to do this. You need to show him.
‘Close the door.’
I’m surprised at the confidence I’ve injected into my tone—am surprised all the more when he does what I ask. But his eyes don’t return to me. They burn a hole in the floor at his feet.
I take a small breath. ‘Why won’t you look at me?’
His eyes waver and I can sense the fight in him.
I step forward, my progress slow as the tight minidress restricts my movement, riding ever higher up my thighs. The moment I’d chosen it I’d had this in mind. To confess my love, maybe even seduce him. I want my first time to be with him and tonight would be so perfect.
‘Lucas?’
He shakes his head, but then his eyes lock with mine and I feel their burn. Need is etched in the tightness of his jaw, in his hands fisting at his sides.
‘We shouldn’t be in here...alone.’
‘Then why did you come?’ I press.
Please let him be torn. Please let him confirm what I suspect.
‘I—’
He shakes his head again but his eyes are still fixed on mine. His internal fight is clear in their depths, and he runs his teeth over his lower lip. The move distracting me with the glimpse of his tongue, the mouth I so desperately want to taste.
‘Being alone with you, like this...’ He waves a hand up and down my length, his eyes travelling over me and setting my skin alight.
‘Don’t trust yourself?’ I tease, forcing out the playful jest even though I know how much rides on his response.
I pause less than an arm’s reach away and look up at him from beneath my lashes, not quite ready to reach for him. That fear of rejection is still there.
‘You know we shouldn’t.’
It’s my turn to shake my head. ‘Why?’
‘Because—because of who you are. Of who your family are to me.’
‘In a way, we’re your family too.’
‘Exactly, Eva—they’re all I have.’
I risk another step and hold his tormented gaze. I want to kiss it away, take away the pain of his past, his loss, his loneliness. He never had a father. His mother, although best friend to my own, was hardly ever present, and now she’s been dead almost a year. But I have been here. I’ve always been here for him. I can be enough. If only he will see it.
‘And we will always be here for you. But I have to tell you how I feel. I have to tell you I... I...’ My voice cracks and I curse the show of weakness.
‘Don’t, Evangeline—don’t say it.’
His words are a warning that I can’t abide, and it’s the push that I need.
‘Why?’
‘Because it will change everything.’
‘And why is that so bad?’
He takes a breath and it shudders out of him, but he says nothing.
Now. It has to be now.
‘Lucas.’ I slip my hands over his shoulders, feel him tense beneath them, but there’s no going back. ‘I love you.’
He squeezes his eyes shut, closing me out, and when he opens them again they’re blazing. His hands are reaching out, tight on my hips as he forces me away.
‘I love you too, but not—not like this. I can’t.’
He turns to leave and I move, stepping between him and his escape, so swift that he ends up pressed against me, my back against the door as my lips part on a gasp.
It’s not just surprise—it’s the strange frisson that runs right down my front as my body absorbs his heat, the very hardness of him.
His eyes drop to my mouth and there’s no need for words. His intent sears me seconds before his lips claim mine.
Christ, I’m in heaven.
He isn’t soft, tentative, uncertain. He’s hard, determined, his tongue forcing my mouth apart, demanding entry, coaxing me into doing the same.
I’ve been kissed before, and I’ve kissed boys before, but I’ve never been devoured—not like this.
My body thrums, my breasts prickle against his chest, and the dull ache in my gut swells and throbs with mindless need. My hands are in his hair, clinging him to me, his own rake over my body, feverish, trembling. I can’t believe this is real. I feel drugged, dreaming.
And then he groans into my mouth, pressing me back harder, and I know it’s real. I know this is happening...my dream is coming true.
His fingers drop to my naked thighs, encouraging my dress higher. I don’t know whether I lift my leg to hook it around him or he does, but the hard swell of him inside his jeans presses at the throbbing heart of me and I moan my pleasure.
He curses, his teeth nipping at my lip as he shakes his head once more. ‘I’ve wanted you, so long.’
His confession jerks me alert. I want more of it. More words. More to affirm how he feels.
‘How long?’
‘Too long.’
Happiness bursts within me. Everything’s falling into place.
I find his lips again, desperate to seal his words with my kiss. ‘And you can have me. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.’
There’s a strange knocking sound—one that doesn’t compute with the whirlwind that is my mind—and suddenly I’m thrust away from him. I try to focus through the haze. I see his widened gaze, his alarm clear.
‘Lucas? You in there?’
The handle shifts with my brother’s voice, but the door doesn’t budge. I realise Lucas has turned the latch. It fills me with hope, but hope dies just as swiftly. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost as he stares at me in horror.
‘Lucas! Come on, man. Someone said they saw you head in here... Eva too.’
Oh, God.
He was pale before. Now he looks deathly. His eyes leave me, his head shaking.
‘I’m an idiot. A fucking idiot.’
He says it under his breath and I tiptoe towards him, my hand reaching out. But he moves away from me just as quickly, his eyes throwing daggers. ‘Don’t.’
There are footsteps down the corridor and then my father’s voice. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing... I’m just getting Eva. Mum wants her to cut the cake.’
‘The last place Eva will be is in my study, son.’
Nate gives an awkward laugh. ‘Sure...of course. I’ll check upstairs.’
They move off, their voices growing distant, and I know my brother is protecting us. But I don’t want protection. I don’t want to hide any more.
‘Lucas, please don’t push me away. I don’t want to deny this any more. I know you feel the same. I know you—’
‘You don’t know anything.’
‘You want me—’
‘Yes, I want you.’ He launches the words at me, so certain. ‘But that’s not love.’
‘It is—because I love you.’
‘You don’t love me. You’re infatuated, confused, doped up on hormones.’
My heart starts to split in two, ice running through the middle. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about...’
‘I know you and your family are all that I have. That without you I have nothing.’
I don’t know what to say to that. I know the truth of it. But it makes my reasoning all the more valid. It’s so simple.
‘Then accept that we love one another and that my family will be happy for us. Once they adjust.’
His head shakes violently. ‘No, they won’t. Don’t you see? Nate was banging this door down to stop us. He knows.’
‘But—’
‘No, Eva, he’s already made it clear you’re off-limits and, hell, he’s right. What happens to me a year or two down the line when this...whatever this is...fizzles out?’
The Deal--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 17