Her Billionaire Beast (Her Billionaire CEO Book 7)

by Jewel Allen

  He schooled his expression and turned to her. “How so?”

  “Well, for one, you look angry.”

  “I only have goodwill for the universe tonight.”

  “Liar.”

  He gasped. “Who are you calling a liar?”

  “You.” Her voice was teasing.

  He wasn’t in the mood for jokes though. “You seem to have gotten friendly with him.”

  “You mean Max?”

  “Yes, Max.”

  “He too young for me. I’m probably five years older.”

  “That hasn’t stopped love affairs before.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Besides, he’s going back to America after this job.”

  “I wondered why you hired American security.”

  “Another billionaire friend of mine, Luke Parker, heads up a bodyguard agency.”

  “Ah, I see.” She paused. “Are you jealous?”

  “Of Max?” He gritted his teeth. “Of course not.”

  To his shock, he felt her fingers on his beard.

  She said, “He doesn’t have facial hair.”

  Without thinking, he grabbed her hand. “I suppose that is an advantage for him.”

  “Advantage?” she said in a small voice.

  “That you are more attracted to a man without a beard.”

  “Actually, it’s the opposite.”

  Blood rushed to his ears. He wanted her with every fiber of his being.

  Instead, he let her hand drop. “I don’t shave out of convenience.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  Once again, silence descended. He was acutely aware of her breathing, her presence beside him. She was warm and alive and he hated himself for wanting her.

  It made him feel helpless.

  She had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a long-term commitment. And yet here he was, like a schoolboy, hankering after what he couldn’t have.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To a dance club,” he said. “I had Horatio look it up for me.”

  “What is it called?”

  “Baile Adriatico.”

  “I haven’t danced in so long.”

  “I hope it’s good. I’ve never been here.”

  “It’s the company that counts, right?”

  He didn’t answer, pretending to fiddle with something on the dashboard. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

  He pictured them dancing. Him, yearning for her. He wondered at the wisdom of this date.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Isa was confused by the mixed signals Alejandro was giving. One moment, he was jealous. Another, he burned and she felt like he wanted to kiss her. And then now, he was banked, almost indifferent.

  She felt like she was on a roller coaster ride, and she just wanted a bit of a break. She needed to catch her breath and figure things out.

  Reina parked in a lot just outside downtown area. Alejandro helped Isa out, his hand making her skin tingle through the velvet-like fabric of her sleeve.

  “Is my touch making you uncomfortable?”

  “No,” she said. And it was truth. Excited. Confused. Happy. All that, yes. But not uncomfortable.

  “Because I can use my walking stick.”

  “No, don’t be silly. I can help you get around.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A couple came at them from the other way, and Isa stepped closer to Alejandro, accidentally brushing against his lean body.

  “Sorry.” She stopped walking.

  “I don’t mind.” His voice was low and close to her ear. “Isa...”

  “Yes?” Her heart beat slow and painfully.

  His hand moved as though to touch her face, and then he lowered it again. “Nothing.”

  But his voice was thick with desire, mirrored in her own body. She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath.

  “I don’t know where we are going,” she pointed out.

  He checked the GPS directions on his watch courtesy of Blaze and his futuristic company.

  “I’ve arranged for us to have reservations at The Boar,” Alejandro said. “I hope that is all right with you.”

  “Sure, that sounds good.”

  The Boar was a fancy place with lit candles on the table and a romantic ambience.

  A server greeted them, treating Alejandro deferentially. “Good evening, Señor Diaz. Señorita. Your usual table?”

  Alejandro turned to Isa. “I usually sit in the back, under the umbrellas. Is that all right?”

  There was a little set of steps that led up to a dining area of tables with umbrellas over them. To the left, there were tables off to themselves, exposed to the sky.

  “It seems a shame to eat with the umbrellas obscuring a view of the heavens,” she mused.

  “That makes sense.” He spoke in Spanish to the usher.

  “Very well,” the young man said. “Please this way.”

  As they sat, she looked up into the stars and sighed. The only thing that was hard about sitting under the stars was, she felt a little cool. She rubbed her arms.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  He stood up and moved his chair so that they were sitting close. He took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “You’ll get cold.”

  “Take it,” he said. “I’m warm as it is.”

  “Thank you.” She smelled his masculine scent on it, a musk smell. The warmth of his jacket felt wonderful on her skin.

  She browsed through the menu. Tried to anyway, with his distracting nearness. All the items had Spanish and English translations on them.

  “What should I try?” she asked.

  “I heartily recommend the Secreto Iberico. It’s the best.” He kissed his fingers.

  “Sounds good. What else?”

  “How about the Carillada de Cerdo? It’s like a stew. Soft cuts of meat with vegetables.”

  “Mmm. Yes.”

  “And for dessert, you should try the Torrijas.”

  “You convinced me.” She closed her menu. “That’s what I want.”

  “Should I order for you?” He smiled.

  She gazed at his smiling lips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, please.”

  Their server arrived and Alejandro made short work of ordering. The server took their menus away and left them. It was nice to be away from the other diners. It made for a more intimate dinner.

  Alejandro put his arm over the back of her chair.

  “To keep you warm,” he said.

  She bit her lip and smiled. He was so transparent. She should really push off, but she played along.

  “Yes, that’s nice.”

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said.

  “Is this on the record?”

  He tugged playfully on the lapel of his jacket. “On my phone.”

  “I thought you’d say it’s on one of those techno gadgets that your billionaire friend made you.”

  “I am sure I have something like that, but I didn’t bring it today.”

  “About myself.” She mused. “I grew up in Sunnyridge, Colorado. It’s a small town near Colorado Springs.”

  “Where is Colorado Springs?”

  “South of Denver.”

  “Ah, all right. So you grew up a cowgirl?”

  “No, not really. I was mostly into books, and we could have had horses, I suppose, but Dad was too busy with his business and mom was scared of them.”

  Alejandro nodded.

  “I think I already told you,” she said, “I loved to write growing up. It seemed natural that I would follow in the footsteps of my father. I went away to a boarding school in Switzerland, where I skied mostly instead of write, and still managed to pass. Had a few love affairs while there. There were always princes or relations of nobility to date.”

  “Sounds like a detestable bunch.”

&nb
sp; She laughed. “That, some were.”

  “But you didn’t find that special someone?”

  “No,” she said, turning to him. “I haven’t.”

  His breath fanned her cheek. If he were to lean forward, his lips could brush against hers. Her mouth turned dry as his lips seemed to move closer.

  The server returned and they leaned away. He took his arm off the back of her chair and her stomach plummeted with disappointment. Music trickled from inside, a Bosa Nova beat that had a Latin spin to it.

  “You were saying?” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

  “I left Switzerland and went back to Sunnyridge for just a minute, and then it was off again to get my masters in business. So I could learn to run a publishing empire.”

  She winced.

  “Did I hear correctly from your tone that the plan didn’t work?” he asked.

  “Oh, it did. I learned everything I could. Unfortunately, I had to start like everyone else. At the bottom.” She played with her napkin. “Actually, I didn’t mind. I liked being able to prove myself.”

  “Wait. So you are the daughter of a billionaire?”

  “Not that many zeroes,” she said. “But enough.”

  “Rich at any rate.”

  If it were someone else asking the question, she’d hedge or avoid. But she was talking to a billionaire here. “Yes.”

  “Funny. Both of us coming from different places, only to end up in the same place.”

  “Well, you are a billionaire, but I’m not. I’m barely making ends meet, as it is.”

  “No trust fund from your parents?”

  “There is, but I don’t want to touch it. I want to earn my keep as long as I can.”

  “Yes, you and I, also, wanting to prove ourselves.”

  “What are you trying to prove?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment and she wondered if he had heard.

  “That I am worth loving.”

  Laughter rose from the other side of the restaurant. There was a clinking of dishes and lulling of conversation.

  Isa’s heart ached. She heard the loneliness in his voice. The yearning. She could see, from the way he dipped his head sideways, that admitting it was hard for him. She knew exactly as he felt, and yet she was loathe to admit it. If they were to end up together, would they be enough for each other?

  “Of course you are,” she said. “We all are.”

  He frowned. “You don’t know my Papá.”

  “I think I do.”

  “You do?”

  “He sounds a lot like my dad. Withdrawing his affection if I messed up. Lavishing me with praise when I succeeded. Setting the bar higher next time and only loving me when I reach the next goal.”

  He closed his eyes. “Ah, yes.” He blinked and nodded. “That was my father. But...worse.”

  He paused. “My dad did a few more things, but I really don’t want to tell it all in my book.”

  “That’s all right,” she said. “There’s plenty enough to talk about. Although...that sounds like child abuse.”

  “Yes, I do believe you’re right.”

  She covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned his face towards her hand and turned his palm upwards, so their hands were entwined. “Thank you.”

  Impulsively, she touched the side of his face. Wanting to sympathize. He melted against her. They were kindred spirits and she couldn’t deny him, even if her brain demanded that she stay uninvolved.

  She kissed his temple and his eyelids. He made a little moaning sound and swayed towards her.

  Recognizing her power, she said, “My turn.”

  To his raised eyebrow, she lifted her hands to his face.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  She touched his forehead and eased the wrinkles. She massaged the furrow between his brows. She traced his eyebrow, down to his cheekbone, following the contour of his nose bridge with her finger, down to his stubble. She loved the feel of his jaw, that beard that made her mad with longing.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm.

  She didn’t know what was happening between them, but she welcomed it, like parched earth welcomed rain. She could no longer deny that they needed each other. To heal their hurts. To find acceptance, finally, with no conditions.

  No more running away. Turning to the light instead of the dark, together.

  The server returned, ostensibly to pour more drinks, but everything, even the food had hardly been touched save for a few bites.

  Once they were alone, he reached for her abruptly, to pull her into a hungry kiss. The flavors of what little they’d eaten mingled. He was salty and sweet and delicious. When he pulled away, she had to steady herself by putting her hand on his chest.

  “I would tell you I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m not.” He flashed her a mischievous smile. “I couldn’t resist after you touched my face like that.”

  “We probably should eat,” she murmured, chastising herself for her impulsive gesture. It might raise false hopes. In both of them.

  He reluctantly let her go. “I suppose.”

  The food was delicious, flavorful and the meat was tender. She especially liked the carillado. She loved how the meat fell apart and yet the vegetables were still somewhat crisp. They brought out bread, which went well with their meal. She was sopping the bread into the sauce and savoring the taste.

  And then they had the torrijas, heavenly little pillows of churro in a sweet caramel sauce.

  “I love this,” she said.

  “It’s my favorite too.” He gestured grandly towards it. “You can have the rest.”

  “Oh, no,” she protested. “I couldn’t possibly,” just as she speared it into her mouth.

  He put his fork down to nothing and laughed.

  She chuckled too, ducking her head down.

  They could have stayed there under the stars, eating and talking, but Alejandro reminded her of their dancing date.

  “I will definitely need to dance all that rich food off.” She took his arm and guided him down the steps.

  “What do you eat in Colorado?”

  She scrunched her nose in thought. “Green foods. Vegetables and salads.”

  “That sounds horrible.”

  “Horrible?” She laughed. “You mean healthier.”

  “Well, horrible because where is the meat?”

  “Oh, I will add some meat, here and there.”

  “I hate vegetables.” He made a face. “But fruits are all right.”

  They made it to the landing and out the restaurant entrance. With his watch’s guidance, they walked a couple of streets over.

  He pulled at her playfully and ducked into an alley. No one else was about.

  “What is it?” she said.

  He put his finger over her lips.

  “Alejandro,” she warned, even as his finger left a trail of sparks on her mouth, weakening her resolve.

  He coaxed her against a roughened wall and captured her mouth in his. She succumbed to his caress, the rough feel of his stubble against her chin, his sensual kiss that made her toes curl in her heeled pumps.

  He would have kissed her more, but she pushed him away playfully. “Are you trying to get out of dancing?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” he said. “I’d rather kiss you than dance.”

  She laughed. “Come on.”

  When they came out of the alley, hand in hand, the stars seemed brighter, the lights more romantic. It was a magical night. A night with possibilities. People turned their heads to watch their progress.

  “Where’s the club?” she asked.

  “Turn right at the next alley and the place has a royal crest on its club sign.”

  Old fashioned lamp posts adorned the alleys, their lights twinkling prettily. Alejandro and Isa turned the corner where the taverns started in earnest. People stared at them as they passed. They probably thought it was strange to see a man in a tux holding a woman on her should
er.

  “We’re here,” she told Alejandro, when they came upon the sign Baile Adriatico under a royal crest.

  “Perfect.”

  She felt self-conscious as she saw the dance club. Alejandro and she had dressed in formal wear when there were people milling outside in jeans and casual clothes.

  There was a line of partygoers outside. After being cooped up in the castle for so long, Isa felt almost strange to be in civilization again. She almost wanted to turn tail and go back to the car for a quiet night with Alejandro. At the same time, she heard the music pulsating from within and her heart raced. She couldn’t wait to dance, and tapped her heels impatiently on the flagstones.

  The bouncer-like usher in a long-sleeved black polo shirt and slacks greeted Alejandro in rapid Spanish. Soon, they were allowed in, and they moved along in the crush of people.

  There was cigarette smoke and clinks of beer bottles and lots of loud laughter. She turned to Alejandro and took his arm instead. She didn’t want them to get accidentally separated in the crowd. Once past the outer wall, they funneled into a narrow but deep space crammed with little bar-height tables and a dance floor beyond, with a disco ball and a deejay at the helm.

  Isa maneuvered them into a table with another couple. They nodded at each other over the din after trying, with little success, to talk over the loudspeakers.

  “I wish I could whisk you away to the castle,” he said. “Just you and me.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “I’m getting my money’s worth off you.”

  “So dance for a little bit, and then we can go home?”

  “Yes, I believe that was the plan.”

  “Very well. Dance we shall.”

  When they finally hit the dance floor, Isa kept continual contact with him so that he could keep track of her. He was a cute dancer. Not very good, just as he claimed, but his earnestness won her over. She let him twirl, dip, and even kiss her lightly on the lips.

  The fast music changed into a soft tune. She melted into his arms and settled her head in the crook of his neck. His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head.

  She could just stay in his arms forever. Vaguely, she looked around, at all the other couples enjoying themselves.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed them.