Cruel Billionaire

by Luma Rose

  “Okay, do you see that group over there?” I motion with my hand in their general direction. Something I probably wouldn’t do if I weren’t so tipsy. Or maybe I’m veering toward drunk now—I’m probably not the best person to assess my current state.

  “The one with Humpty Dumpty?” Garrin says.

  I chuckle because now that’s all I can envision when I look at the man. “He’s trying to convince them to have a threesome, and they agree, but because he’s into S&M, they’re trying to decide on their safe word. The tall one likes Napoleon, but the other one prefers rainbow, so they’re arguing about whose to use. He’s afraid of losing them both and is trying to keep the peace.”

  “Actually, that’s Monty Sinclair and he’s more into being dominated than doing the dominating.”

  I swing my head around to look at him. Yikes. Maybe a little too fast because now I’m dizzy. “Are you serious?”

  Garrin nods.

  “How do you know that?” I ask, my mouth hanging wide open.

  He shrugs. “There isn’t a lot I don’t know about anyone in this room.”

  I finish my champagne and place the glass on the tray of a passing server. “What else do you know about the people in this room?”

  “A lot. It would frighten you to know what I do.” He looks off into the distance at the crowd in front of us, though I don’t get the impression it’s anyone in particular he’s interested in.

  “Does it frighten you?” Somehow, I know the answer before he speaks it out loud.

  “No.” He turns and looks down at me with those unfathomably dark eyes.

  No, I don’t suppose there’s much that frightens Garrin Stone.

  By the time another hour passes, the game has grown stale and I’m struggling to keep up my sober façade when people inevitably stop by to speak with Garrin. He’s a man who commands a lot of attention, even when he clearly doesn’t want it.

  I tug on Garrin’s arm a little too hard while he speaks to a couple. “I’m going to go to the restroom,” I whisper.

  His eyes glance at me from the side and his tongue slides out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. Without waiting for him to agree, I step away from the group, almost losing my footing in my stilettos. Somehow, I manage to make it to the restroom and do my business. After washing my hands and exiting the bathroom, I spot the blue whale skeleton that hangs above the large hallway. I lean against the wall, staring up at the curves of the giant bones, trying to picture the magnificent creature covered in flesh and living free, exploring the ocean. I let my eyes drift closed for a moment, visualizing the scene in my head.

  “Taking a break from the crowd?”

  Ford’s voice startles me and my eyes snap open to find him standing in front of me.

  I give him what probably looks like a lazy, half-drunk smile. “Do you think that whale was happy when it was in the ocean?”

  Ford pushes his hands into his pockets and glances from me up to the collection of bones above us. “I’m not sure whales are even capable of having those types of emotions. Where’s Garrin?”

  He glances up and down the hallway as if my dark temptation will suddenly appear.

  “He’s in there.” I motion toward the entrance doors that lead to the party.

  “How much have you had to drink?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to study me.

  I shrug. “Sometimes you just need to forget, you know?”

  He frowns. “You stay here, all right? Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to get Stone.”

  I don’t agree or disagree as he makes his way back to the party. “Ford,” I call out.

  He turns to face me.

  “I’m sorry. It’s probably not good for your press secretary to be loaded at a social event.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Isla. Sometimes we all need to forget.”

  The way he says it, like he understands me, brings chills up my spine. He grew up as the political prince in a squeaky-clean family, but I suppose nothing is as it seems in Cherry Creek.

  I go back to studying the skeletal remains and sometime later, someone approaches.

  “I took the liberty of grabbing our jackets. Let’s get you home.”

  I tilt my chin up to see Garrin standing there. His coat is already on and he holds mine in his hand. God, he is so gorgeous. It would be so easy to get lost in him. He’d do a much better job than this champagne in making me forget. But would it be the same as with every other man I’ve ever been with? Would I be going through the motions and not be able to get out of my own head and live in the moment?

  “If you were swimming in the ocean, do you think that whale could swallow you whole?” I ask.

  He appears confused for a second before he looks up above. “I suppose in theory.”

  “That’s what it feels like you’re doing to me.”

  Our gazes lock but neither of us says anything. It feels like a standoff of some kind, but I can’t even find myself sorry for letting the words slip out.

  Finally, he breaks away and holds my coat out for me. “Here, put this on.”

  I turn and slide my arms into the jacket, then turn back around. He does up the buttons for me like I’m a child, not a drunk twenty-seven-year-old with too much on her mind.

  “Thank you.”

  He nods and steps back from me like he’s calculating how much distance to keep between us.

  With his hand pressed to my lower back, he leads me to the exit. I only stumble a few times on my stilettos, and he helps me right myself.

  His driver waits at the end of the pathway with the Rolls-Royce running, and he steps out to open the back door when we approach.

  Once we’re situated in the back seat, Garrin says, “We’re going to be taking Miss Flores home now.”

  “No!” Panic grips me from nowhere at the idea of going home tonight. Of walking by my parents’ bedroom door and feeling the need to check in on him and putting my finger under his nostrils to make sure he’s still breathing, as if I’m the parent to an infant. I just don’t want to feel that overwhelming sense of heartbreak and desperation that I did inside that house tonight.

  Garrin looks over at me with a confused expression, his forehead wrinkled.

  “Please? I don’t want to go home. Not tonight,” I practically beg, emotion thick in my voice.

  He stares at me for a moment, unblinking, and doesn’t look away from me when he says, “Langley, change of plans. We’re both going back to Titans’ Tower.”

  A sigh of relief leaves me and I lean into him, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. He stiffens under my weight but doesn’t force me away.

  For tonight I can pretend I’m someone else. Someone who isn’t scared for her father’s life. Someone who wasn’t run out of town because of one bad decision. Someone who is capable of a normal sex life.

  Just a girl who finds herself falling for a boy, except he’s no longer a boy and she’s no longer a naïve girl. That’s what too much champagne does to you. Makes you forget who you are deep down in your core.

  20

  Chapter Twenty

  Garrin

  I don’t know why Isla wants to come home with me, but it’s clear that she’s dodging whatever is bothering her. I cave like the bastard I am when she pleads with me using her desperate eyes.

  Langley pulls into the underground garage and parks by the bank of elevators.

  Why can’t I treat her like every other girl? I have no business bringing her home. Just like when I saw my father with her at the gala, a protectiveness flares up inside of me. The worst part is the person she might need protecting from most is me.

  The Rolls comes to a stop. Langley slides out and is there at my door a minute later. I glance at Isla. She hasn’t said anything since she leaned her head on my shoulder, and neither have I. Anyone else and I’d have gently swayed her to lean her head on the side of the car. Then I would have had Langley see her home.

  My first mistake was letting her drink so much champa
gne. My second was assuming she would never put herself in a vulnerable position in my presence. I am a Classhole. The friend of the guy who was involved in the sex tape with her.

  “Isla?” I ask in a low voice.

  She bolts up and looks over at me like she’s calculating where she’s at. “Yeah, I was just relaxing.”

  How naïve is this girl? Most people are always on edge around me.

  “Come on.” I slide out of the car, bend down and offer her my hand.

  Her small hand slides into mine and she smiles up at me as she elegantly climbs out of the car.

  Christ, she’s stunning. Even with her eyes half-lidded and glazed over from drinking, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

  Normally any woman I bring back to Titans’ Tower only has an invitation to the Titans’ Den, never my personal residence. There’s a reason we all have our own bedroom and en suite on the den level, after all.

  But the thought of bringing Isla to that room doesn’t sit well.

  “Is everything okay?” Isla asks.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re doing that thing with your forehead.” She reaches out to touch me and I rear back before she has a chance.

  “What thing?”

  She giggles. “Your forehead gets all wrinkly when you’re deep in thought.” She tries to touch me again, and again I dodge her.

  I give her a wry smile. “Does it now?”

  “It does.” I’m so busy trying to keep her up, I miss it when she uses her pointer finger and places it in the middle of my forehead near my hairline and drags it straight down, smoothing out the skin. “That’s better. Handsome.” She pats my cheek like a grandma.

  She stares up at me like I’m her fucking hero, her gaze dipping to my lips, and I feel the pull. The pull to lower my head and capture her lips. But I can’t. I need to keep my head clear for whatever my dad’s planning. Falling for Isla isn’t part of that plan.

  “Let’s go.” I gruffly reach for her hand and lead her to the elevator, stabbing the button for my floor once we’re inside.

  The smallness of the elevator is suffocating with only the two of us in here. Even unknotting my bow tie and loosening it from around my neck doesn’t help me breathe any easier.

  “Garrin, why won’t you kiss me?” she whispers, sounding stone sober compared to earlier.

  I whip my head in her direction.

  “You must sort of be into me if you invited me as your date tonight. A couple times tonight, I thought maybe, but you never did.” She stands in front of me and slides her hand in between the slit of my open jacket and up my chest. “Am I wrong?”

  “You’re not wrong.” I take her roaming hand by the wrist and put it to her side. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea if we get involved.”

  She sticks her plump bottom lip out, pouting. “Why not?”

  She’s going to hate that the alcohol loosened her tongue, and I won’t add fucking me to her list of regrets come tomorrow morning.

  “It’s just not.” The elevator dings, thank God, and I step around her and directly into the foyer of my apartment.

  I don’t wait for her, but her heels clicking on the marble floors tells me she follows. If I don’t gain space, I’m going to give into the temptation, and I’ll hate myself for taking advantage of her.

  “Your place is different than I imagined.”

  She’s stopped at the entry to the living area, leaning with one hand against the wall and removing her shoes. It’s a blessing. All night, I’ve pictured how those stiletto heels would feel pushing into my back as I drilled inside of her.

  “What did you imagine?” I ask, curious to hear her answer and to get a glimpse of how she sees me.

  She pads across the room in her bare feet. “You’re so cold and detached sometimes that I pictured some white-on-white modern wasteland. This definitely isn’t that.”

  I glance around the expansive space to try and see it how she might for the first time. The dark stone floors are covered by massive area rugs in the living area, and the walls and furniture are all varying shades of taupe and dark gray with softer accents here and there. I’ve always been a reader, so my modern dark wood bookshelves that line the far wall are filled with books I’ve actually enjoyed, not just ones the designer thought would look good with the rest of the décor.

  “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” I say.

  She giggles. “It’s neither. Just an observation. Though it does make me think that there’s more to you than just the calculating businessman persona that you project most of the time.” She closes the distance between us until we’re chest-to-chest.

  I step back. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Do you have any wine?”

  “I have water. Sparkling or flat.”

  She sticks out her bottom lip again like a temptress. I don’t even think she’s aware of her seduction tactics.

  “Fine. Flat.”

  I make my way toward the kitchen but stop short when the elevator dings.

  Who the hell could that be? I change direction and beeline it into the foyer to see what’s up.

  It can only be one of five people. The guys and Margaret are the ones with key cards that allow access to this floor.

  The doors open and Lincoln steps off the elevator.

  “Now’s not a good time,” I say, stepping closer to ensure he doesn’t leave the elevator.

  “I have some information about Isla.”

  “Shhh!” I glance behind me. “Keep your voice down. She’s here.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  Great, now he’s going to tell the other guys, and they’ll all tell me that it’s a big deal that I brought her up here instead of to the Den.

  “Now tell me what you have to say and get out.”

  “Can she hear us?” he asks, peering down the hallway.

  “Not if you keep your voice down.”

  “I did some more digging and I found something, though I don’t know what if anything it means to your father,” he says in a low voice.

  “Okay…” I stand with my hands in my pockets.

  “I broke into her medical records. There’s nothing going on there. Oh, and she’s STD-free, just an FYI. In case she’s in there waiting for you naked and tied up.” He winks and smirks.

  My jaw clenches. “Get on with it,” I grit out between my teeth.

  “I looked into her parents.”

  “Okay, and what did you find?” I look over my shoulder and make sure she hasn’t sauntered this way.

  “Her father has lung cancer.”

  “Shit.” I push my hand through my hair. That’s her look I couldn’t decipher earlier this evening. The same one I’d see on Harper’s face when we’d come home from school and Mom would be laid up in bed.

  “He’s already undergone chemo, but from what I can see, he’s starting radiation treatment.”

  “Fuck.”

  All the damn dots I couldn’t connect suddenly make sense. The way she was distracted all night, how she flipped out when I was going to smoke my cigar on the patio, the fact she drank too much and didn’t want to go home.

  “Yeah. I’m not sure why that would interest your father, but it’s the only thing I found.”

  “No one will know you were snooping, right?”

  “Fuck you. I’m insulted.” He turns and steps back into the elevator, pushing the button.

  “Hey, you weren’t at the gala,” I say, stopping the doors from closing.

  “Yeah, you know how I get.”

  “Yeah.” The outside world disappears and any obligations cease to exist to Lincoln.

  He leans forward and presses the button to keep the doors open. “Well, let me know if you think of anything else you want me to dig into. I’m headed to Allure, so I’ll catch you later.” The doors shut.

  I shake my head—he must visit t
hat sex club every week. The man could go to any club and get laid easily. Then again, who am I to talk?

  When I step into the living area, ready to make my apologies to Isla, she’s nestled into the corner of the couch, asleep.

  I stuff my hands into the pockets of my tuxedo pants and stand a few feet from her, watching her for a moment like the creeper I am. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, her long lashes fanning out from her closed eyes, her two hands tucked under the pillow.

  Her father is sick, with cancer no less.

  That’s why she returned to Cherry Creek.

  I wish it didn’t make me feel more connected to her. I know what it’s like to be forced to watch from the bedside as you slowly lose your parent. Again, that protectiveness erupts inside me, and I want to keep her from the pain she’s obviously already living through.

  Bending at the waist, I gently lift her into my arms. The fabric of her dress slides to the side, and that large slit that’s been tempting me all night opens up to reveal her shapely leg.

  My steps echo once I’m off the area rug and heading down the long hallway toward the bedrooms. I open the door to one of the guest rooms that have never actually had a guest in them and lay her on one side of the bed. On the other side, I pull back the blanket, then lift her again and carry her to the other side, tucking her in.

  I stand and watch her again for a minute while memories from my past, ones I’ve locked away in a double vault, resurface. It’s been a long time since I let myself sink into the memories of my mom dying, but I have a feeling I’m going to be fighting off the nightmares tonight.

  21

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Isla

  I stir awake when I try to turn onto my side and can’t. When I open my bleary eyes, it takes me a minute to realize that I’m in a room I don’t recognize. There are no lights on, but I can make out the vague shape of furniture dotting the space from the small amount of light coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows on my right. The world outside is dark except for a small number of stars twinkling in the sky, matching the dotting lights from below.