Their Courtesan: Billionaire Menage Romance

by Cynthia Dane

  “You’re killing me inside and out,” he muttered into her ear as they joined the throng of people milling toward their transportation of choice. The surge of people created a bottleneck from the garden to the front yard. Security personnel directed the traffic. By all accounts, it was a well ran American wedding. Things are different in Europe. The severe lack of helicopters coming in and out of the yard was one tip-off. “I hope we can be alone at the reception. I have… things to do to you.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Judith wrapped her arm around him, fingers tapping against his midsection. “Looking forward to it.”

  That’s what a man wanted to hear. He could wait. Even if they were in the slowest moving line of the century, he could wait to show Judith off some more. There was always time. Today, anyway.

  I saw that other guy. He meant Seth, of course. Sitting with Zack on the other side of the walkway and two rows up. Only once did Miguel catch him and Judith exchanging looks. I will not get jealous. I am a terrific example of manners and poise. Seth kept his words and his hands to himself. He even admirably focused on the wedding, which was something Miguel could not really do. Weddings. He had been to a hundred of them over the past decade. Man meets girl. Girl says she’s a woman. Man and woman tie the knot. It was how the world was meant to be. Or at least Miguel’s world, anyway.

  He looked at Judith with more critical eyes. Could he see her being the one he married one day? That’s how he used to look at Rosa. A woman meant for marriage. Whether or not she marries the right guy… who knows. Judith, however, was not the type of woman people looked at and said, “Yup, she’s getting married one day!” Not unless she was the gold-digging type. Naturally, this was not a dig at the woman Miguel loved. Quite the opposite. He was pleased with her independent nature and need to be in control of her own destiny. Too often, he dated women who wanted everything handed to them, whether it was money or service. Judith worked hard for her money – Miguel would know, as he had handed her thousands upon thousands of dollars by now.

  “How did you like the wedding?” They were almost to the front of the bottleneck, but it was still slow moving. “The bride’s dress was stunning. It looked Italian.” Miguel tolerated weddings if three things were involved: an unconventional ceremony (check,) lots of alcohol (that was coming up,) and a dress that stopped the show and was flattering on the woman wearing it. Ethan Cole’s bride, Miss Jasmine, had worn a princess bridal gown handstitched with golden appliques. While Miguel didn’t recognize the style as any particular designer’s, implying it was done by someone he had never heard of, he did recognize it as being decidedly Italian. It helped that he also knew Ethan Cole had a huge fondness for the country.

  “It was nice.” Judith remained pleasant. “Weddings aren’t really my thing. Receptions, on the other hand… those can be a lot of fun.” Her hand grazed his ass.

  “You’re a naughty one.”

  “Says the man implying he wants to do things to me at this wedding.”

  “I said later.”

  They exchanged coy looks. Judith curled her arm around his and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you asked me to the wedding. Then again, you don’t know anyone here, do you?”

  “Only you and a few choice others. You are the only one, however, I know so intimately.”

  She giggled. “Oh, look, it’s our turn.”

  They forewent taking one of the shuttles to instead hop in the Aston Martin and drive farther up into the Hills for the reception. Miguel had never been up this way before, but he knew that this whole neighborhood – if sprawling acres and near-city country living could be called that – was the rural living for the elite who worked every day in town but wanted some sizable property to call their own. Those who were more miserly and wanted more privacy tended to live closer to the Château than anywhere else. The Hills, however, had the architecture, landscaping, and price tag to bring millionaires out to squabble over purchases.

  Like in Europe, there were community amenities for those who lived here. One such amenity was a public complex sporting gyms, gardens, and reception halls. The main hall, where the reception awaited the guests, was a quaint manor on the way into the complex. Beyond it, past groves of evergreen trees carefully trimmed to still give an illusion of privacy, were the gyms and botanical gardens. The little manor was well equipped with everything a man of means needed to throw his wedding bash: a large ballroom for eating, toasting, and dancing, enough facilities for those who drank too much, and a lounge stocked with a never-ending bar staffed by half a dozen competent mixologists. One of many coat checks up front took Miguel’s travel coat and offered to take Judith’s sweater, but she declined. “I’ll get cold as soon as we sit down in the air conditioned room,” she explained. “Speaking of, let’s take our time and have some drinks first. I’m not in a hurry to listen to toasts, even if Monica will be rambling.”

  The madam was here too, although Miguel didn’t see much of her since she spent the whole time sitting down. She went out of her way to say her pleasantries to him and introduce Miguel to her husband, Henry Warren, but beyond that, Miguel was happy to say that the only person he cared about was Judith, whom he ordered a margarita for the first chance they had.

  “You should tell me who these people are,” Miguel said, leaning against the far end of the bar. Judith stirred her martini before picking out the olive and brushing it against her lover’s mouth. He bit it, even though he didn’t care for olives. Yes, this Mediterranean man doesn’t care for olives. All he cared about was enticing her. “I need to know who you make money from.” He grinned to make sure she took it as a joke.

  One week ago, Judith had called him, screaming and yelling after being shut out of work for a night. I think it was Mr. Cole’s bachelor party, in fact. Miguel had been shocked that Judith wanted his number, but went along with it. She called every other night, usually from her bathroom, asking him about his day and how his work was coming along. Sometimes she asked more questions about his family and what it was like to live in Europe. Mostly, she flirted.

  Then he received one of the most unhinged phone calls of his life. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bastard I would be able to make some fucking money!” Miguel didn’t know what that was about, but he made sure to tip her extra the next time he saw her – and brought her a box of chocolates, because even though she said she no longer menstruated because of her IUD, she still had the hormonal fluctuations that came with it. I grew up with two little sisters. I get it. Didn’t understand it, but got it.

  Judith pointed out everyone she knew in the room. There must have been at least fifty milling about the lounge, not including those who came up to the bar and departed again. Half the people were locals. Another quarter was other Americans. Foreigners were the minority, but even Miguel recognized two princes accompanied by their bodyguards and assistants. A Saudi prince, and a fellow European son from another tiny nation that was bigger than Monaco… but not as famous.

  “Cole gets around.”

  Judith shrugged. “He’s in charge of one of the nation’s biggest companies. You only met him, but lots of others beat you to it.”

  “Truly, I feel honored having been invited.”

  Judith grinned. “I should be so honored that you invited me to be your date, yes?”

  He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles, eyes never leaving hers. “Te amo, mi amour.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  “It’s Spanish…”

  “One of the dirtiest languages in the world! You could say ‘Wash my socks by hand’ in that sexy accent of yours and I would die.”

  Miguel tried that out, careful to roll every R in a long, searing purr. Yes, Judith was definitely melting.

  After they finished their drinks, they left to take their assigned places in the ballroom. Good. Miguel was starting to get hungry.

  “Oh… good afternoon.”

  Judith stopped, torn between returning the greeting and ignoring th
e man pushing his way into the lounge.

  “Could you give me a few seconds, Miguel?” She put a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him while he looked into the glassy eyes of the other guy. Seth Christens stood in his stuffy tailored suit, hair slightly unkempt – because he was a dirty artist, so there – and gaze turning from Miguel to Judith. The way he looked at her… it was the way Miguel looked at her. Fuck this guy. He knew it was jealousy bubbling up. He couldn’t help it. How could he keep from putting a protective arm around his beloved to make sure she didn’t run away with him? Like she was an animal in heat…

  We’re all dumb animals. Fucking feral beasts who needed collars and leashes because they couldn’t be trusted with their own genitals!

  “You do what you need to do, mi amour.” He kissed her temple before releasing her. “I’ll be at our table.”

  “Thank you. Just a few minutes. I may not see him before our trip to New York. You know, for the gallery. I want to clear some details.”

  “Yes, of course.” Miguel did his damndest to not growl like a dog in a cage. “Take your time.” He sent Seth a frosty glare. Does she actually see anything in this guy? He looks pathetic. Funny. When he first met Seth without knowing their connection, he thought he was a fine guy. Everything changed when a woman was involved.

  Miguel found the nearest usher the moment Judith left his side. After being escorted to his seat, Miguel made the executive decision for what both he and Judith should eat for dinner. He liked to think he knew her tastes well enough by now to order her the steak and vegetable plate.

  “May I trouble you for a moment, Mr. Bolivar?”

  He looked up to find Monica leaning against his otherwise empty table. Where the other guests were, he had no idea, but he wouldn’t say no to his beloved’s boss joining him. Her husband was not in tow.

  “Lovely wedding, isn’t it?”

  Monica smiled. “I like to take some credit for it, yes.”

  I don’t recall implying that… “If you’re wondering where Judith is, she said she had something to tend to. I don’t expect her to be back for at least a few minutes.”

  “That’s fine. I wanted to speak with you separately, anyway.”

  Miguel braced himself for trouble. “Go on.”

  To the tune of a live jazz band playing mood music, Monica said, “I have some good news for you, Mr. Bolivar. After extensive consideration between myself and Judith, you have won the silent auction. Congratulations.”

  It’s about fucking time! Miguel retained his composure. “Thank you for the information.” The smile he had practiced for years to maintain some degree of civility even though he was exploding inside paid off. “I am happy to hear it. You know I care for Judith and have every intention of being a doting patron for as long as possible.” He had thought about what would happen if his family called him back from America, or sent him to another part of the world. The casino project he was overseeing should last a few years, from groundbreaking to making sure it turned a sizable profit, but anything could happen. If it did? He intended to still see Judith as often as possible. That’s what love did to a man. I bent over backwards to see Rosa all over the Western hemisphere, didn’t I? At least he didn’t have to keep his relationship with Judith a secret. The whole world already knew, much to his sister’s chagrin.

  “I do not doubt it.” Monica folded her hands on the table, careful to keep her stomach from scraping against the edge. “Moving forward, I will draw up the business contract for you and her to sign. However, I don’t plan to present it to you until after she returns from New York in July. I hope you understand.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m glad. After that, you will be her patron, and your first monthly payment will be expected. I trust that won’t be an issue?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Excellent. Judith and I are excited to have you on board as her patron. We’re sure you two will be happy with the arrangement.”

  “What about the other guy?”

  Monica looked back at him with a start. “What do you mean?”

  “The other man I was bidding against. Seth Christens, isn’t it?”

  “Why, yes… well, I’m sure they will still be seeing each other, especially if the gallery showing goes well. Your patronage does not make her other clients invalid. It simply means you have many more benefits than they do.”

  “I understand that.” Miguel poured himself a glass of champagne from the complimentary bottle left on the table. “I was asking how he’s taking it.”

  “I’m sure it’s not an issue.”

  “Mrs. Warren, sometimes you severely underestimate us men.” When Monica double-downed in distress, Miguel added, “We don’t take defeat well, particularly if a beautiful woman is involved. I know I would’ve done anything to procure this patronage. I may not know this other man well, but I have a feeling he shares similar sentiments.”

  “Do you know something that I don’t, Mr. Bolivar?”

  “Hardly. Just a glimpse into the male psyche. Judith seems rather fond of him, so I thought I would ask. Don’t want trouble for her, you know.”

  “Of course not. If there is an issue, you can trust that I will make sure it’s handled.”

  “I do not doubt it.”

  Monica squared her shoulders and heaved herself up, stomach first. “Enjoy the wedding, Mr. Bolivar. I’ll call you later this week to go over the details of the contract.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  He hoped that would be the last of such references after she left. Alas, the moment Monica freed up the chair next to him, someone else took her place.

  “Hey, Mr. Monaco,” Zack said, sliding easily into the chair. His body language said “It’s cool, we’re friends,” but his face said “I could make your life difficult.” Miguel wasn’t sure which one bothered him more. “Surprised to see you sitting by yourself and not schmoozing half the world’s elite here.”

  “I’m minding the fort, or so I believe ‘you all’ say.” Did he do that right?

  “Holding down the fort.”

  “Ah, yes. Holding, not minding.”

  Zack’s smile disappeared with a heavy sigh. “Where’s your little missus? The hot blonde who was riding your dick all across the internet.”

  He certainly had a way with words. “I believe she’s talking to your friend right now.”

  Zack looked as if that was an actual surprise. “Is that so? How good to know. Here I had told him to avoid her today.”

  “I can’t tell if that was for his benefit or mine.”

  “Why can’t it be both? She is clearly with you today. No sense for her to distract my best friend from having a good time. Assuming you catch my drift.”

  I know he wants her. Judith fancied him as well. As much as Miguel hoped she liked him? That was not something he wanted to delve into. “What can I help you with, Mr. Feldman?”

  “Look, I’m gonna level with you.” Zachary lowered his voice, cheeks downcast and eyes serious. “No one is a better friend to me than Seth. So, you know, I’ve gotta look out for him like I would expect him to look out for me. I’m not gonna tell him who he can and cannot date, but I’ve been wary of this situation between him and Judith ever since I first found out about it.”

  “What is there to be wary of?”

  “Seth isn’t… well, he isn’t like you and me. You get me? I feel like you and I are kindred spirits in that we both love women. Lots of women. Seth isn’t like that. In the few years I’ve known him I’ve only seen him date on a handful of occasions, and they all ended swiftly. He’s a fucking curmudgeon if you don’t know him well.”

  “So I’ve gathered.”

  “He’s a good guy, but he’s not good at playing the field and, well, I’ve always worried he was going to get seriously hurt being so involved with Judith. You’re better equipped to handle a woman like that.” Zachary absentmindedly glanced at Miguel’s abdomen. “Literally and figuratively, if those photos we
ren’t Photoshopped.”

  How could Miguel do anything but smirk at that?

  “What I’m trying to say is that he’s going to get his heart broken if he keeps seeing Judith. I’m on both of your side’s. I like you, and I don’t want my best friend to get hurt. It’s best for everyone if he and Judith part ways. Don’t you agree?”

  “I will not begrudge who she sees outside of me. I know what she does for a living, and she has my blessing. I wouldn’t have met her otherwise.”

  “Uh huh.”

  I’m so full of shit. Miguel said it calmly, but inside he entertained fantasies of being Judith’s one and only. All her attention. All her thoughts. He could give her enough money to make her loaded for the rest of her life, and she would never have to do that kind of work again. If I said that, she would be so mad. He kept smiling. “If you think Christens is going to be a problem, then I agree with you. I don’t want Judith having to deal with that. It’s bad for her business.”

  “Sure, let’s say that.”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to do, though. In the end, it is her business. Even if Christens causes big problems, it’s for the Château to handle, not me.”

  “You can talk to Judith, though. She might listen to you.”

  “You want me to convince her to let go of your friend as a regular client?” Miguel laughed. “She will not like that.”

  “It’s in everyone’s best interests.”

  “Everyone but hers.” Ah, shit. That’s how it was, wasn’t it?

  “I can’t believe for one second she has actual feelings for Seth. It shouldn’t be that hard to do. I dunno, find a way to convince her that it’s in her best interest to cut him loose. I’ll owe you.”

  “Is that so? I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks.” Zachary clapped him on the back. “I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy the wedding. I’m gonna go get some booze and a bridesmaid.”

  “You see the redhead?” Miguel was glad to change the subject. “Now that’s a beautiful woman.” Not as beautiful as Judith, of course, but up there.