“We have to go,” she said firmly and wriggled around to face him. “Business is business. That’s why you spent a small fortune on all this silk and leather, remember? To make me suitable arm candy for the workaholic billionaire playboy?”
Dark brown eyes so large they only just fit into the arc of his eyebrows stared down at her and she shivered. His eyelashes were indecently long and dark for a man, and he should be made illegal for exploiting their lost little boy charm and making her insides turn to jelly. And then he kissed her, long and slow, and there was nothing she could do to resist him. Firm lips melted to soft and longing, tongue gently probing as he ran his hands up the sleek silk of her jacket, and she moaned a little with the delicious pleasure of being wanted by a man who had women falling at his feet on a minute-by-minute basis.
She broke the kiss, but didn’t pull away—she wanted to savor his minty breath feathering her mouth and the subtle spicy fragrance that clung to his skin. “You have scarlet lipstick on your face now.”
“And you think that bothers me?” He kissed her lightly on the lips again. “See? Don’t care one little bit.”
“We’ll never make it to the gallery at this rate.” She reluctantly eased out of his embrace, not wanting it to end, but knowing that every time his kissed her, another piece of her heart and soul became his to keep forever. She couldn’t let him take too much and still expect to survive when all this was over. “I’ll need a couple of minutes to freshen up and then we should go.”
Matt looked around the apartment and fiddled with the buttons on his jacket cuff. “I like it here. Can I stay here tonight?”
His bald request rendered her speechless for a second before saying, “In my apartment?”
“Yeah, why not? I get to feed Princess and I promise to clean up both our poop.”
“I really don’t think my place will cut it with you. It’s a whole lot more basic than anything you’re used to. Except for that place over the fried chicken joint in Sanibel, of course.”
“Exactly. I liked it there, too. And it was also where you lost your panties for the first time.”
“It was a complete dump.”
“So is that a no? Get lost, Matt? Your sister clearly isn’t here right now, it’s way too clean from what you’ve told me about her, so you can’t use that as an excuse.”
“Well spotted, Sherlock. My sister’s had a remarkable reunion with the baby’s father. It won’t last two minutes of course, but I don’t have to worry about her for now.”
“Yet, you’ll be here with open arms when she decides she needs to treat this place like a hotel again?”
That was harsh, even if he did have a point. “She’s my sister. What else am I supposed to do? You can’t choose your family.”
“You can’t choose your family, but you can choose how you deal with them. Sounds to me like she takes full advantage of your sweet nature.”
“Sweet nature, my eye.” She saw him looking at a pile of unopened mail and hoped he wasn’t observant enough to notice that they were mostly reminder bills that needed paying. “Anyway, my relatives are none of your business, and I don’t think you staying here would be a good idea. The neighbors gossip like crazy.”
He shrugged. “Then we can go someplace else, anywhere you like.”
“You’re not very subtle.” She glanced at him and then looked away. “Aspen is just out of surgery and I’m scared to leave her on her own right now.”
Matt strode across the room to her bookshelf, plucked a cookbook off the shelf, and began to flick through the pages. “You know Super? The lady who stayed really calm when you did the Japanese yen thing with all my money?”
“I’d bet you fifty dollars it wasn’t all of your money.” She watched him as he stared down at an open page and rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I still find it hard to believe I made such a huge mistake. If this was a movie and I was watching it, I’d be thinking the male protagonist set me up. In fact, the more I think about it—”
He snapped the book shut and the abruptness of it made her start. “She had cats for years, Super, that is. Her husband was a breeder. Siamese seal point, I think. Anyway she misses the noise and hassle of having a vocal cat around, and let’s face it, Aspen is quite a talker when she gets going, so she said she’d cat sit anytime.” His eyebrows rose questioningly, or he was feigning an absurd amount of innocence with those big brown eyes of his. “They never had kids,” he added quietly.
“I never knew you had such a deep and caring nature,” she said suspiciously. “Super seems like a tough cookie to me and, as you said to me back at the cabin, Aspen is my cat, so therefore my problem. I find your interest unnerving, almost as if—”
He shook his head. “It’s my fault I’m taking her mommy out on the town tonight and we might be back late.”
“We’ll be back before midnight,” she said firmly. “Or somebody will be turning into a pumpkin, a pumpkin ready to be carved up. And that pumpkin will be you.”
…
“Are you okay?” Matt studied Piper’s pale face as she took his hand and stepped down from the sleek, black helicopter. “There were a few gusts up there, but we were completely safe.”
“I thought you were kidding about taking a chopper for events outside Passion Creek. You could have warned me before we turned up at the helipad.” Her fingers were cold and trembling wrapped inside his and he gripped them a little tighter when she tried to pull free. “I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“I didn’t picture you as a nervous flyer. You made it to and from Florida on your own.”
“Flying by the seat of your pants in a helicopter is a different experience from being squeezed into a big tin can for tourists, that’s for sure. But I’m fine now.”
He held on tight to her hand in spite of her trying to wiggle it free. “Good. It always makes a statement arriving by helicopter.”
“Hm, something along the lines of ‘Look out, I’m considerably richer than you’?”
“Yes, I like that. I’ll make sure to get that remark into the conversation every chance I get this evening.”
She giggled and, astonishingly, his heart skipped as she squeezed his hand. “I so dare you to do that.”
“Only to complete jerks, though,” he whispered as they made their way toward a beckoning meet and greet official across the building’s rooftop. “But there will be plenty of those here tonight.”
Once inside the building, Piper shook her long, glorious mane of hair free of the snowflakes that were beginning to fall again outside. She reminded him of a modern day ice queen dressed head to toe in white like that, striking, even scary if you were the kind of guy who was easily intimidated. It wasn’t very often a woman could teach him new tricks or take him by complete surprise, but Piper was the mistress of that. He had no idea what to expect from her in a social situation like this. She might be a complete liability, but he didn’t care.
The risk he was taking with his reputation and sales campaign just served to heighten the thrill of being with her. He loved the danger. He loved the contrasts, the frosty exterior which vaporized when she caught fire in his arms. He needed to get her to stay there more often. He wanted her to melt into a puddle for far more than a few snatched hours in a snowstorm—he needed a period of total saturation if he was to get her out of his system before it all came to an end in under a couple of weeks. And it needed to end on launch day–no strings, no commitment, that was the deal.
They were shown into a mirror-lined elevator that silently transported them a couple of floors down to a front desk area where a glossy blonde smiled a welcome.
“Mr. DeLeo,” she purred with a hint of a European accent. “So good to see you here with us tonight. You really don’t need this as I’m sure everyone here knows who you are but, for insurance purposes and security, I’m sure you understand?” She tipped her head to one side in a coquettish manner and slid an identification tag across the front desk with neon pink fingern
ails that clicked on the polished surface. Then her bright blue gaze and false smile found Piper. “And you must be Miss Reilly. Welcome.”
It never failed to amaze him how bitchy and predatory women could be with each other when there was an eligible billionaire in the building. Or maybe it was just him; maybe he brought the worst out in a certain type of female. Still, he didn’t like the way the blonde receptionist had changed her tone from sexual simpering when addressing him to clipped ice as she handed Piper her ID and then tossed her hair back. It was an unspoken girl-to-girl challenge, he was sure of it.
“I never go anywhere without the lovely Miss Reilly these days,” he said, far more loudly than necessary. “The lady is non-negotiable.”
There was the beginning of an ironic smile on Piper’s scarlet lips, one that reached her eyes, a genuine smirk of understanding of what he was up to. She lifted her chin haughtily. “Time is money, darling.”
“Of course,” he said in a deliberately stiff tone and offered her his arm. “We must press on.”
Piper smothered a giggle as the door closed behind them and they found themselves in a large bright room full of chattering people. “Non-negotiable? Was that a nod to Charles and Camilla?”
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You have a wild imagination, Miss Reilly.”
She smirked and took a flute of champagne from the attentive waiter who had suddenly appeared at her shoulder. “And so, apparently, do you.”
He watched as she put the crystal glass to her lips and there was the slightest hint of the tip of her tongue as she drank. His groin stiffened almost instantaneously. “Champagne suits you,” he said softly, feeling an almost unbearable kick of lust.
She swallowed and ran that wicked tongue over her top teeth before saying, “That’s because it’s so much nicer than your smelly old beer.”
“I could watch you drink it for hours.”
“You might have to if this event turns out to be terminally dull.”
Tiny silver conch shells dangled from each of her earlobes, catching the light as she moved, and he noticed the huge mother-of-pearl bangle on her slim wrist as she lifted her glass and the cuff of her jacket slid back. He should re-evaluate. She wasn’t an ice queen, she was a sea sprite with her coral red hair and kelp-green eyes sparkling like the setting sun on a calm sea. “It won’t be dull with you showcasing your jewelry so beautifully tonight. Make the most of the attention you’re getting and charm some potential clients. Business, not pleasure, for a few hours.”
“You’re right, look at them all fawning over those strange paintings. The more-money-than-sense brigade is out in force tonight. I’ll have some of that.”
“Got your business cards?”
She lifted up the red sparkly clutch bag. “Never leave home without them. Although I won’t drop them anywhere this time.”
He chuckled silently and then took a swig of his own champagne. “That thing is so tiny I guess you can’t fit much more than a handful of cards in there anyway.”
“It’s not very practical,” she said with a dry look. “But with a billionaire to look after me, what else could I possibly need?”
“Women’s purses are a complete mystery to me. You’d just about get a pack of cigarettes in there and a lighter.”
“For your education, I have my cell phone in there, a house key, and a credit card for emergencies. So I’m not actually that reliant on you. And I gave up smoking years ago.”
“Didn’t we all?” He flicked her a warning glance as he spotted a particularly dull country club owner coming their way. “This would be a good time to mingle,” he muttered quickly. “Super dull dude approaching.”
She closed her eyes briefly to indicate she understood without actually saying anything and wisely didn’t even look over her shoulder before sashaying into the center of the room. He felt the loss of her company immediately, following the top of her red head bobbing through the crowd like a buoy on a choppy sea until she disappeared completely from view. He was irritated that Bob Dodge had sought him out so early in the evening. The man was prone to cling, bore, and dominate more than was polite or subtle, but business was business, and Bob’s chain of snobby resorts bought a lot of beer. In fact, Bob probably sank most of it.
“Fancy.” Bob Dodge jerked his beer glass in the direction Piper had headed. “About time you settled down with a nice young lady and gave the rest of the Passion Creek bachelors a chance.”
“Now, Bob, you know how it is.” Matt slapped the older man on the shoulder and a little beer slopped onto the floor. They both smiled and looked around guiltily to see if anyone had noticed them messing the place up. “Matt DeLeo is more than happy being a bachelor boy and there are no major changes on the horizon.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’m sure about that.”
“You see, it’s just that I’ve been watching the two of you since you came in and…and there’s something there this time, boy. Something there, you mark my words.”
He wanted to say something about it just being sex, but thought better of it. Piper deserved better than that even if it was the truth. “You need more beer, Bob, mark my words.”
Chapter Nine
Piper drew up to an elegant woman with platinum cropped hair looking at a canvas of red and yellow splatters. She spoke in a whisper. “Do you like it?”
“Are you the artist?” the older woman drawled in equally hushed tones.
Piper laughed and pointed to her name badge. “No, I’m a guest.”
“You can’t be too careful at these things.” The woman touched Piper’s hand lightly as if to reassure her. “I’d hate to offend anyone, after all beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but apart from the vibrancy of the colors in this one…no, it’s not for me. I’d rather give the ticket price straight to charity.”
Piper bent to see what was on the ultra-tiny price tag and snapped back straight with shock. This was another world. It had to be with numbers that big for something that looked like an elephant had painted it, but she couldn’t let on she was a financial fish out of water. Neither could she let on that she didn’t know the whole occasion was about raising money for charity because that would make her look like an ignorant freeloader. “It is…vibrant,” she said diplomatically. “Perhaps in the right environment, a modern loft conversion with plain white walls, maybe.”
“Or one of those cheap hotel lobbies,” the other woman said with a snort of amusement. She trained her steely gray eyes on Piper’s earrings. “Give me a decent landscape any day, something with the sea in it. I miss the coast living up here in the mountains.”
“I know what you mean,” Piper said with a wistful sigh and absentmindedly ran her fingers over the smooth surface of her bangle as she stole a glance at the woman’s name badge. “I try to get down to Florida as often as I can, Fiona, but it’s a long way.”
Fiona smiled and stretched out a hand toward Piper’s face. “That must be where you got those gorgeous earrings.” She felt one between her fingertips. “Silver?”
“Solid. I can’t wear plate, just pure base meals like gold, silver, and platinum.”
“Oh, me neither. Besides, who on earth would want cheap alloy jewelry anyway? I’d rather be unadorned.”
“Exactly,” Piper said with feeling and turned her attention back to the painting.
“Now tell me,” Fiona murmured, “where does a lady who has far too much jewelry already direct her husband to buy a pair of earrings just like yours? And that amazing bangle, the colors are perfect for me.”
“Ah, this is kind of awkward…”
“Florida somewhere? Where you go on vacation?”
“Sort of.”
“Don’t be mean, tell me! And I swear that if we both turn up to a function wearing identical stuff, I’ll take mine off immediately.”
“Okay, you can’t have something exactly the same because all the pieces are unique, formed from real shells. Shells gathered
in the Sanibel area of Florida.”
She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. “Even better.”
“And…and it’s me who makes them.” There was a loaded silence and Piper cringed inwardly. She felt so crass pitching herself like this and she wasn’t even sure she’d intended to. It just kind of happened. “But please don’t feel—”
Fiona visibly fizzed with excitement. “Let’s swap business cards. You do have one on you?”
Piper flicked open her purse. “Oh, um, maybe.” Totally shameless. “Yes! What a piece of luck there’s one in here.”
“This is amazing. If all your pieces are unique, I can tell all my friends. Do you do bespoke?”
“Yes, I do. Have a look on my website when you have time and you’ll get a good idea of what I offer. I have a small shop downtown as well, but space is limited so there’s not a full range on display.”
“You’ve made my day.” Fiona took Piper’s card and slipped it into her own purse. “I have some diamond earrings that I bought on a whim and I really don’t like them. Could you break them down and incorporate them into a new design? Maybe with some pearls?”
“Of course I can, and you’ve really cheered my day up, too.” She glanced down at the other woman’s card. “And the next time I need some interior design advice…”
Oh hell, this was the best networking event ever. Pretty interior things were one of her favorite sidelines, so if she could expand out that way her business would boom. With any luck, Fiona wouldn’t be able to resist some of her driftwood and coral pieces when she browsed the website or dropped by the store. And then she remembered what she’d be doing over the next few weeks. “Although I may not be at my shop in person very often in the next few weeks, as I have…a special commission I’m working on.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie; commission sounded a lot more believable than blackmail.
“I must find my husband. He’ll be delighted to have a few gifts he knows I’ll like for my birthday next month. And our anniversary! What’s the point in marrying a stockbroker if you can’t help him redistribute his bonus money, huh?”
Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer Page 9