by KB Winters
Tess had a fascination with the rich and powerful. She wanted nothing more than to find a rich husband who would cater to all her wishes, and when he screwed up—or around—she’d be showered with expensive gifts and vacations to help her recover. Honestly, I wasn’t sure which she wanted more—an engagement ring or an unlimited AMEX card.
We’d been friends for a long time, having spent our teenage years as next door neighbors. However, somewhere along the way, our paths had taken very different turns. While I’d been busy working two jobs and putting myself through business school at night, she had been studying designer clothes and scooping out the best places to meet rich, available men. I didn’t judge her choices by any means. But it was sometimes a struggle for us to keep a conversation going.
“All right, let me just have thirty more minutes. It’s not like the club is going to be closing anytime soon,” Tessa said.
“Tess, it’s not about when they close. I need to see the gigsters,” I said, referring to the two bands that were lined up to do a gig before the main, usually more prominent, band took the stage for the night. Part of my business model was to find new bands and get them before other, more established labels, found them. I was still working to put together my business, and I knew that if I didn’t get at least a few bands on board, I’d never be able to get any interest from financial backers to really launch things.
I was running out of time and it seemed like a loud clock was ticking inside my head at all times.
Something I’d mistakenly thought Tessa understood.
“Just give me the keys. I’ll go get my stuff and I’ll take a cab there or something,” I said, a sharpness cutting through my tone as my patience started to wane.
Tessa shot me a dirty look but then it morphed into a sweet smile as her new prospect—Sam? Smith? Sven?—returned with his two new drinks. He offered me one and I let my guilt talk me into accepting it. I didn’t want to wreck this for Tessa by acting like a bitch, so I smiled and took the glass from his hand. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Stephan,” Tessa purred, her voice low and sultry. She leaned into him, offering him the best display of her boobs that looked like they were fighting for oxygen from underneath the corset-style dress.
Stephan smiled at her and started to lean in, too, but then cut a glance over at me and backed away slightly.
Great. I was officially the third wheel.
“Listen, it was great to meet you. Sadly, I gotta run. I have a thing I need to get to,” I said, throwing a look at Tessa, pleading with my eyes for her to give me her keys.
She didn’t take the bait. She didn’t even look my way. She had apparently been sucked into the fantastic vortex of Stephan and it was unlikely she’d ever return to me.
Screw it. I’ll just go in the damned dress. And if she wants to bitch about the dry cleaning bill, I’ll remind her that it was a million percent her fault that I had to wear it to the club in the first place.
My mind made up, I gave them both a farewell nod and turned to leave.
Unfortunately, I swirled too quickly and crashed—face first—into the solid chest of someone.
“Ooof.” A gust of breath knocked out of me as I reeled back, desperately trying to keep my footing.
Why did I have to wear the fucking tallest shoes I own?
Two huge hands settled on each of my arms and I was instantly steadied.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, looking down at my dress top to make sure the girls were where they should be. Once I assured myself all my parts were in the right place, I looked up to see the face of my victim.
Oh. My. God.
Not only was my breath knocked out of me again, but so were all coherent thoughts. The only thing I could think was how insanely good-looking the man I’d so abruptly rammed into was. Okay…he was more than good looking. He was a certifiable hottie.
In hindsight, I wished I’d craned my neck around to catch the look on Tessa’s face. Because I’m pretty sure it would have been to die for.
He was about a head taller than I was with a strong form, but not too broad. His shoulders were squared and from the form-fitting suit that melded in all the right places, I could tell he was stashing away a rocking body. His eyes were dark, but there was a playful light to them as he stared down at me. Almost like he knew something I didn’t and he was waiting for me to figure it out.
His cheeks were dusted with a light scruff that set him apart from the clean-shaved men around the room. His jaw was chiseled with perfect angles. Not too narrow, not too meathead.
“Good evening,” the perfect man drawled. His smile was lazy and slow, but matched the cadence of his voice perfectly and I think I melted a little, gluing my feet to the ground.
Not that I wanted to leave anymore. Suddenly, all thoughts of the club and the bands took a dive out an open window and I was left in shock.
“Sorry about that,” I said, suddenly finding my voice again. Although I lost it again as I realized his hands were still firmly gripping my arms. The warmth from his palms seemed to radiate through me and all my senses were heightened.
“No worries. I shouldn’t have been standing so close, but I couldn’t help it. You’re magnetic,” he said, flashing me another killer grin.
Normally, I had a policy to mock gag and instantly reject guys who tried to use lines on me, but with him, I found his words hypnotizing and I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth.
“I’m Remy,” he said. He released my arms and they instantly felt ice cold in the absence of his warm hands.
“Livvie,” I said. I swear my brain was on autopilot. I normally introduced myself to new people by my full name, Olivia, but with him, I cut right to the chase and gave him the nickname used by the majority of my friends.
He extended a hand and I shook it, again rattled by the heat that filled me at his touch.
“Nice to meet you…Livvie.”
Oh, Lord. The way he said my name already had me spinning. I’d lost all my senses of space and time, and mentally started recounting just how many drinks I’d already indulged in. It hadn’t been that many had it? Was I that drunk?
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, gesturing over to the bar.
I shook my head. “No, I think I’m tapping out on that. Thank you, though.”
I wasn’t sure why I was rejecting him. He was perfection personified, wrapped in an Italian suit.
He didn’t miss a beat, completely unruffled by my denial of his invitation. “Some fresh air, then?” This time, he gestured out to the terrace that connected the ballroom with other parts of the hotel. I had caught a glimpse out the windows when I’d been wandering aimlessly, looking for the ladies’ room.
I turned back to look at Tessa and she was staring back at me, her mouth slightly open. She mouthed the word GO and I spun back to face the man standing before me. “Sure,” I said with a shrug.
He smiled, but it was different this time. Something about it was hiding a twinge of victory and I got the sense that I’d need to watch myself with this one. Sure, ridiculously hot men don’t come around every day—and there was a good reason for that. Guys like Remy had trouble written all over them.
I needed to watch my step.
He wrapped an arm around me, letting his hand fan out over my hip as he guided me towards the huge, glass doors. We stepped outside into the chilly night air, and I was grateful when he pulled me closer. “So, Livvie, what do I need to know about you?”
I cocked an eyebrow. It was a strange question. As usual, my brain blanked under the on-the-spot pressure. It was like being in a job interview when the interviewer asked you to tell them about yourself and you never know quite what to say. Did they want to know about your knitting hobby? Your family ties? Or something more sterile, like where you went to school and the kind of grades you received?
Remy was looking down at me, waiting for an answer. His hand was resting on my hip and making it even harder to think clearly.
; “I’m twenty-four. I just graduated with a business degree. I have my own entertainment company. It’s in the beginning stages, but once I get things going, it’s going to be really cool.”
God. I hoped that wasn’t as lame as it all sounded.
Either way, Remy seemed happy with the answer. He smiled and I couldn’t help but return it. “Impressive. You must be very dedicated.”
I hesitated, but then nodded in agreement. I wasn’t one to brag, and I really didn’t want to get into the details of my life. Not yet. “What about you?” I asked, hoping he was the kind of guy who would take the conversation and run for a while so I could figure out what the hell I was doing.
He let out a sharp laugh. “I’m just a trust fund baby with nothing to do but play all day.”
I laughed nervously at his answer, unsure if he was serious or kidding.
Before I could pepper him with a follow-up question, he swept me around and brought his face dangerously close to mine. So close I could see every hair in his perfectly stubbled chin.
His lips were inches from mine and the heat between us was ratcheting up to an even more scorching level. My heart was hammering so hard inside my chest that I was sure he could feel it and my nipples strained against the already tight fabric of the dress.
I closed my eyes and waited for him to kiss me. I had no idea what had come over me. I normally don’t even kiss on first dates after spending an hour or two with a man. Remy and I had barely exchanged one or two sentences.
“You’re coming home with me tonight,” he said, his lips barely a whisper away from mine.
My eyes snapped back open, staring into his unchanged expression. “Excuse me?”
I wanted to add a “fuck you” to fully display my indignation, but figured it might be a bit too much, and I wasn’t too sure how coherent I’d be.
“We’re both adults, Livvie. There’s no need to play games.”
“What games?” I asked, alarm bells ringing in my mind as I took a step back.
“I want you, Livvie. You’re by far the most gorgeous woman here tonight,” Remy said. “I can see in your eyes that you want me just as much as I want you. So, why deprive ourselves? We both know this charity dinner is bullshit anyways. Let’s go do something a lot more interesting.”
I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I felt so overcome with awkwardness that it was the only thing I could do. “You’re out of your mind. I’m not sure what part of me you think has one-nighter written on it, but I assure you, that’s not my style.”
I was going to blame the whole fiasco on Tessa’s too-small dress.
Never again.
Remy ran a hand from my shoulder, all the way down my arm, spreading fire all over my body that left tingles behind when the heat burned down. I shut my eyes for a moment, letting myself soak it up, giving myself over to the seduction of his velvet touch.
He wasn’t lying. I did want him. I couldn’t fully understand why, or how, he had me so worked up. He was arguably the most devastatingly handsome man I’d ever seen—but that wasn’t enough to throw myself into his arms and let him use me like a play toy for the night. Was it?
His fingers tracing lines over my arms were certainly making a compelling case. If he could make me feel so desirable and wanted with just the faintest touch on my arms, what else was he capable of?
I paused, nibbling my lip as I stared into his even-darker looking eyes as they sparkled in the dim lighting of the garden lights strung above us.
“I could help you with your business, you know,” he said, apparently trying another angle.
I reared back. “What are you insinuating?”
Remy was completely unruffled. “You said you needed help getting your business off the ground. I have money and I know a lot of people who could help.”
“Do I look like a hooker to you? If so—newsflash!—I’m not. I’m a legitimate business woman and I have worked my ass off way too hard and for way too long to let some kind of lowlife pimp wannabe in an overpriced suit try to sweet talk his way into my panties by throwing his unearned money around.”
“That’s not what I meant, Liv. For fuck’s sake.” He kept his voice low but there was a fire in his eyes and I knew that there was no way to fix this. Whatever he meant by his comment, I wasn’t interested enough to stick around and decode it. “Come here, don’t leave.”
Our verbal sparring had attracted the attention of the people standing nearby. I spun around, away from Remy’s grip, and saw all the horrified faces blur together as they watched our scene unfolding. I shot him one more death stare before pivoting towards the doors back inside. I left, without so much as a glance back, as fast as I could in my tight dress and too tall heels.
If I was lucky, I could still make it to the club before they closed.
Chapter Three — Remy
“It’s quite the talent, you know,” a voice purred over to me as I re-entered the ballroom.
I cut a quick glance over to my rapidly approaching mother.
“Shit,” I whispered.
She came alongside me and wrapped her arm through mine. It all looked friendly, maybe even sweet, but her grip on my bicep and her fake nails digging into my forearm were a silent warning. “How is it that you always manage to root out the absolute sluttiest woman in the room?” she whispered, all the while keeping a broad smile on her face as we began a stroll on the outer edges of the party.
All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of here. I cursed myself for not thinking ahead and jumping the bushes that fenced in the terrace and making my escape.
“She wasn’t slutty, Mother,” I replied, hoping against hope that would be the end of it.
Madge released a tittering laugh as if I’d just told a splendidly candid joke with her. “Oh, my darling son, you could be a pig snuffling out truffles.”
My blood started to simmer in my veins. Granted, I’d only spent ten minutes with the gorgeous creature who called herself Livvie, but I felt it necessary to defend her honor. Or maybe I was just pissed that I was twenty-seven fucking years old and still getting lectured on who I was with, and when, where, and why by my mother.
“Is there a point to this conversation? Or just an old-fashioned scolding that you didn’t feel could wait till tomorrow?” I asked, smiling down at her. “If I recall, you were the one who insisted I find a date in the first place.”
“Yes, Remington, a date. Not a whore. That tart you just left with looked like she was here on business, if you catch my drift. Honestly, I’ll have to speak with Henry about how closely he watches the guest lists for these events.”
“I assure you, Mother, she was not a whore.”
“Well, her dress told a different story. But then, that was probably the reason you chose her in the first place. Absolutely distasteful. Her companion has already been asked to leave.”
My eyes darted over to where I’d first approached Livvie. She’d been standing with a friend, although, her friend had been too busy throwing herself at Stephen Williamson to pay much attention to me. Once I started talking to Livvie, everything else had faded to the background. The space they’d occupied was now abandoned, like some sort of socialite crime scene.
“Well, then it will make you happy to know she wasn’t interested,” I said, bringing my gaze back to my mother.
“Mmm.” Her attention was already divided again. She’d said her piece and apparently had moved on to other interests. I followed her gaze and she was watching one of the couples she had introduced me to earlier. “You know, dear, Charles mentioned that Janice has a younger sister who is still single. She’s new to the city. Maybe I should set something up for you.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a command.
“Sounds delightful. As for this evening, I think I’ll be heading out before dinner is served,” I said. There was no way in hell I’d normally agree to something like a high-brow blind date, but since Madge seemed to be on edge already, I knew not to push it fur
ther. I had clearly crossed some sort of line and embarrassed her in front of her friends and now I’d have to do penance to make it up to her.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“Don’t forget to make your donation on the way out, dear,” she said into my ear as we were cheek to cheek.
I pulled back and smiled. “Of course. Good evening, Mother.”
***
Three days ticked by and I still hadn’t been able to purge the image of Livvie from my mind. I seemed to automatically cycle back and forth between the image of her flirtatious eyes and perfect smile, to the way she had reared back with shock and disgust at my suggestion that I could help her with her business. It was an odd dichotomy and had left me tangled up and frustrated for days.
Most women would have jumped at the opportunity. Not only to fuck me—or, more precisely, be fucked by me—but for help with a new business. The fact that Livvie had reacted like I’d left a stack of bills on her nightstand with just a handful of words was a puzzle I was struggling to figure out.
A puzzle I knew I could only solve if I could see her again. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about the woman. I hadn’t even gotten so much as her last name.
After a few days of churning it over, I had finally caved and done the only thing I could think of:
Made a trip to our friendly family PI.
James Jenson. JJ, for short.
My mother had originally hired him to keep tabs on my wandering stepfather, Marty, and had done such a good job that she discreetly passed his name to others in the family over the years. He’d caught my aunt Lucinda in the midst of a nearly five-year affair with one of her employees, uncovered my cousin Grant’s gambling habit, and revealed that my half-sister, Vanessa, was dabbling in drugs.
In short, he knew all of our families’ dirty little secrets, and my mother kept him well-compensated to keep him quiet and on retainer for future needs.
Personally, I’d never gone to him for an official job, but we’d turned into unlikely friends when he was working the case to get to the bottom of Vanessa’s lying and scheming years.