Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

by M. S. Parker

  “I apologize, Mr. Snow.”

  Her phone rang. “Turn that damn thing off,” I barked.

  “Dominic!” Fawna snapped at me.

  “I’m tired of that damn thing ringing when I’m trying to have a conversation.”

  Aleena backed away. “I’ll take care of the call, if that’s acceptable, sir.”

  She inclined her head and turned, walking quickly away. As the door closed behind her, Fawna rounded on me. “What is the matter with you?”

  “I…” Snapping my jaw shut, I realized I had no answer.

  The door opened and Aleena stood there. “Mr. Snow, it’s your mother. Are you available?”

  Well, fuck.

  I held out a hand, looking at Aleena’s face, but she had her head slightly bowed, her eyes downcast. “I’ll wait out in my office,” she said quietly as she turned the phone over.

  Helpless, I lifted the phone to my ear. Closing my eyes, I said, “Hi, Mom.”

  “What’s this I hear about a party, darling?”

  Skipping the small talk, are we, Mom?

  “It’s not a party, Mom,” I said with a sigh. “It’s for Trouver L’Amour. For clients.”

  “But they’re clients from our social circle, darling. People who know me and respect me.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that last part. Respect wasn’t really all that big in our inner circle. People respected money, and they respected power. But respecting the person? That wasn’t something we saw much of.

  More and more, that was bothering me. I found my eyes straying to the closed door between Aleena and me.

  “You’re welcome to come, Mom.” I knew that was only part of what she wanted, but if I gave in to this right away, I was hoping it’d move things along a bit faster. “I just didn’t think you’d want to spend your Valentine’s Day mingling with people during a match-making soiree.”

  “And where else would I spend it?”

  Now we were getting closer to it. “Aren’t you going to spend it with Richard?” I named the latest in a long list of ‘companions’ my mother had had since the divorce. The last two had gone to school with me at one point or another.

  “Richard,” she scoffed. “I dumped him ages ago. He was only after my money.”

  Translation: he found someone just as rich, but younger.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mom,” I said softly.

  “Well, water under the bridge, as they say,” she said, her voice taking on a tragic, noble air.

  That was my mother. Even as I thought it, guilt stabbed at me. I hadn’t had a good relationship with her for…well. Maybe I’d never had one. Even after my life had gone to shit in my teens, things hadn’t gone well for us. I hadn’t been the sweet little delight she’d hoped for—not that she’d ever told me that to my face, but I knew I’d been more trouble than she’d planned on when she adopted me.

  At least she did love me, though.

  My dad…? Once it became clear how very scarred and ruined and broken I was, how damaged I’d probably always be, he’d decided then and there to wash his hands of me.

  I thought of the woman on the other end of the phone.

  Of us.

  Clearing my throat, I said softly, “I’d love for you to come to the party, Mom.”

  Things hadn’t always been easy, but she’d been there, even if she hadn’t known what to do or what to say after. She’d been there.

  Dad had just walked away.

  “Thank you,” she said, sounding mildly surprised.

  “Okay.” Feeling awkward now, I looked around my office and immediately wished I hadn’t. Fawna stood exactly where she had been and her gaze was sheer fire. “Ah…okay, I need to get back to work. More things to wrap up for the party.”

  “Very well. I’ll see you Saturday. Oh…I heard that Penelope Rittenour will be attending. I’m sure she’d love to have some time with you, Dominic. She so enjoys your company.”

  I reminded myself that this was neither the time nor the place to go back to that discussion. “All right, Mom. I’ll send out an official invitation in today’s mail, and I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “Lovely, darling,” she chirped. “Till then.”

  Dropping Aleena’s phone onto my desk, I braced my hands on the surface.

  Fawna said nothing.

  “Get it out,” I said, staring at the neatly stacked and labeled folders. They bore Aleena’s handwriting now, not Fawna’s. She was taking to this job too easily, too quickly. It would have been better, I decided, if she’d just sucked at it.

  “Get what out?” Fawna asked sweetly. “Tell you that you’re being an ass? Oh, I don’t think I need to mention that, dear. You already know.”

  I shot her a dark look and then snatched up the phone.

  I opened the door, an apology already forming on my tongue. Apologies were like medicine, I’d always tried to tell myself. Best to get them over and done with.

  But Aleena was on the phone on her desk, busily writing.

  “Yes…yes.” She glanced up at me and then away. “I understand. I’ll be sure to give him the message, Ms. Rittenour.”

  A moment later, she disconnected and then tore off the notepad. It bore the Winter Corporation logo and beneath it was Penelope’s name and phone number. She also gave me two more pieces of paper. “You had three calls, Mr. Snow.”

  “Fuck them,” I said, grabbing the notes and wadding them up. “Let’s go out to lunch. Want to try Bouley’s?”

  “I’m already eating.” She gestured at a small bar on her desk. “And I’m afraid neither of us will have time for much. One of the numbers you just threw away was Ms. Dudeck’s. She called. There’s been an emergency with the band. The lead singer woke up this morning with no voice. He has severe laryngitis and will be unable to perform.”

  The apology I’d been trying to drag back up my throat died as I processed her words.

  “You…” I fisted a hand in my hair and tugged. “Please tell me you’re saying this just to get back at me for being an asshole.”

  “Of course not, sir. I’m simply passing on your messages as you hired me to do.”

  “Aleena!” I wanted to grab her now, grab her and shake.

  “Yes, Mr. Snow?”

  “Dominic!” I snapped.

  “I’m more comfortable calling you, Mr. Snow.” She turned back to her computer. “Ms. Dudeck is sending me a list of possible bands. We’re splitting it up. I should get to work making calls.”

  Chapter Four

  Aleena

  Valentine’s Day was cold, bitterly cold.

  I shivered as I cracked the door and glanced outside and then down at my dress.

  Fawna and I had butted heads more than once during our shopping excursion last month and most of it had been over the formal dresses, but I had to admit, she’d been right.

  Lately, I was coming to realize there was little of which Fawna wasn’t right.

  Now, I wished she would have decided I needed some sort of formal overcoat or cloak and…penguin suit? Just what did a woman wear outside when it was freezing?

  The wind was going to tear me to pieces. But I’d just have to suck it up. Easing the door shut, I hurried into the bedroom and checked my appearance one last time.

  I’d been both dreading and anticipating this day. Now that it was here, I thought the dread was about to overtake me and I’d end up on my knees, puking my guts up.

  Today wasn’t just Valentine’s Day and it wasn’t just kicking off the opening of Dominic’s match-making service.

  Fawna’s last day had been yesterday and I was now, officially, Dominic Snow’s personal assistant. And officially, the two of us weren’t really talking.

  Okay, there wasn’t really anything official about it, but things had been tense between us for the past week and a half, ever since that mess with the party planner. Fawna had told me that the original party planner had sort of fallen through—as in ended up in rehab. It was being kept quiet, but
while Dominic had thought he could handle it on his own, Fawna had squashed that idea. The man has no idea what goes into planning a party of this magnitude. If he ever attempts to have you organize anything for more than fifteen people, put your foot down and say no. Get a party planner. I always did and if you’re firm, he’ll do it.

  I would definitely be firm.

  I’d had enough headaches just throwing birthday parties back at my dad’s old restaurant for groups of ten or twenty. People really don’t get how much work goes into that sort of thing—it’s a job in and of itself. I didn’t need another one on top of…well, Fawna had called herself Dominic’s babysitter and I was starting to understand why.

  Not that I’d be dealing with Dominic much tonight. I’d be helping the household manager, Janice, while she stayed on top of the staff, and attending to a million other little things.

  Dominic was simply here to shine.

  But I still got to go to the ball.

  Amused with myself, I studied my reflection.

  One thing about my heritage, it had gifted me with excellent features. I might have hated them growing up, but I’d come to accept the light brown skin and the gold-streaked brown curls as I’d gotten older.

  I’d selected a red dress—why not? It was Valentine’s Day, after all. It was a deep, seductive red, but the cut itself was almost conservative, ankle length with a slit up one side that went to just above my knee. It had cap sleeves and a modest neckline, although it still managed to make the most of my assets. The necklace I’d received from my grandmother hung around my neck, resting between my breasts.

  I smoothed my hand down the skirt once more, smiling a little at the sight of my white opera gloves glowing against the red silk of the skirt.

  “Okay, Cinderella,” I murmured. “It’s time to go.”

  I wasn’t going to find Prince Charming tonight—and probably not any other night—but wasn’t half the fun of it just going to the ball?

  I left my bedroom, turning off the lights as I went. I hadn’t quite made it to the door when I heard the knock. Frowning, I hurried to the door and checked the peephole, looking out to see Dominic waiting on the porch.

  He was facing away, but I’d know him anywhere. Those golden curls, the set of his shoulders…

  I opened the door. “Dom…” I corrected myself. “Mr. Snow.”

  A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “May I come in?”

  I hovered there. I didn’t really want him in my space. “Is everything okay? I was just leaving. I have to grab my bag—it has my phone. If I need to take care of something—”

  “Damn it, Aleena, let me in,” he said, pushing past me.

  The cold wind sliced into me and I closed the door, shivering as goosebumps broke out over my arms.

  Turning to face him, I readied myself for whatever had gone wrong, but he had moved deeper into the house. I found him standing in front of the cold fireplace, staring down into it.

  “I need to apologize to you.”

  Stiffening, I turned away. My little purse, just big enough for my phone, lay on the counter. “Hardly necessary, Mr. Snow. You were right to criticize me as you felt my performance was lacking. Now, we really should be going—”

  The rest of the words froze in my throat, then faded, as he brought his hands down on my shoulders. “Stop, Aleena. And for fuck’s sake, stop calling me, Mr. Snow.”

  “Yes, sir.” Then I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes, sir…fuck me, sir…

  Immediately, images of what I’d seen—Dominic bringing the flat of his hand down on Maya’s ass, Dominic driving his cock into her waiting body. Yes, sir…fuck me, sir…

  “Aleena…” My name sounded terribly loud on his lips.

  I pulled away from him. Needing room, I strode into the kitchen and pulled down a glass from the counter. After filling it with water, I took a slow, careful sip. “Mr. Snow—” I began.

  “Dominic!”

  I slammed the glass down with so much force, it was a wonder it didn’t break.

  “I’m your employee!” I said quietly, forcing myself not to snarl. “I’m not your slave, your toy, a thing, or an idiot. And for the record, this is my home—while I’m in your employ. It’s my legal residence, which means you don’t get to come barging in. I’d appreciate some modicum of respect.”

  He went to say something and I jerked up my hand, cutting him off. “Please, let me finish. I realize I’m only your employee, but surely even employees are worth that much courtesy.”

  “Surely.” His tone was remote, the angle of his head austere.

  It was enough to send a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t tell if it was nerves…or something else. Forcing myself to continue, I folded my hands in front of me. “You want to flirt with a woman to get her to do what you want, that is fine…Mr. Snow. To my recollection, I don’t think I made any sort of comment or laughed or did anything unprofessional. However, I did something that displeased you. I’m trying to stay professional so I keep my job. Now, either fire me or tell me what I did, but would you please stop going from one extreme to the other because you are giving me whiplash!”

  He stood in front of me, his face like stone, the only sign of life was the flicker in his eyes. “Are you done?”

  I reached for the water and took a sip. I’d splashed some of it on my gloves. I could see the faint little marks on the silk left by the water. I took another sip and then sent him a cool look. “I’m done.”

  “Good.” He took another step toward me. “I’m sorry. I was…” He looked away, staring at the counter over my head for a long moment. Finally, he looked back at me, his eyes solemn. “You’re right. This is your home and I shouldn’t have forced my way in, so I also owe you an apology for that. I’m sorry. About the matter with the party planner, I was letting a personal issue get in the way and I took it out on you and Fawna. Sometimes, I can be an ass. I have no intention of firing you. You clearly have no problems recognizing when I’m being an ass—you’ve seen it this past week and you’ve behaved admirably. You actually should have just told me I was being an ass.”

  Sniffing, I looked away. “You’re my employer. That’s not my place.”

  “I’m making it your place.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach up. I tried to brace myself for his touch, but it was impossible.

  He trailed his hand down my arm, his fingers grazing my skin. “I’m sorry.”

  That light touch sent a shiver down my spine. I edged away and rubbed at my arms, pretending to shiver again.

  “You’re cold.”

  “It’s cold outside,” I replied.

  “I…yes.” He sighed.

  The sound was…strangely desolate. Empty, somehow. I slid him a look and saw that he was looking at something. I followed his gaze. He noticed and held up the item in his hand.

  It was a mask.

  “It’s for you, Ms. Davison.” His tone was formal.

  I’m going to regret this, I thought. “Aleena,” I said quietly as I held out my hand for the mask.

  He studied me and then moved behind me. “If I may?”

  “Why do I need this?” I asked as he lifted the mask and settled it into place.

  “It’s a masquerade…Aleena.” His voice was rougher than normal and I closed my eyes, swallowing around the ache that came to my throat.

  This was torture. I was starting to think I’d be better off if he did fire me.

  “But I’m just helping…”

  He turned me around and studied me, lifting my chin to angle my head back.

  “Come.” He held out his arm. “It’s almost time for the ball.”

  “I…um.” I cleared my throat and backed away. “I need to get my coat.”

  * * *

  I didn’t take his arm.

  I don’t know if he noticed—or cared—but he held the door for me and we walked side by side toward the house.

  “There’s somebody I wanted you to meet before the ball starts,” he
said as we neared the house. He gave me a look that was decidedly grimmer than it had been a few moments earlier. “Ah…you’ve talked to her a few times…”

  The door swung open before he could finish and I glanced up and then grinned.

  “Max!” I climbed the steps and caught the older man around the neck, hugging him. “Don’t you look handsome?”

  Maxwell had become my regular driver, but I hadn’t expected to see him today. He was clad in a tuxedo rather than his normal suit tie and when he saw me, his face lit up. “Miss Aleena. You looked positively lovely.” Then he paused, arching a brow. “That is you, isn’t it?”

  I laughed. “No. It’s Cinderella, silly.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course. I’ll keep an eye out for pumpkins and missing shoes.”

  “Do shut that door,” a cool, cultured voice said. “It’s freezing out there.”

  I turned and found myself facing the very picture of American aristocracy. If such a thing existed…did it?

  She looked to be in her early fifties, or perhaps later forties, although I was learning to pick up on the subtle signs of excellent plastic surgery. She was probably in her sixties, but she was absolutely lovely, regardless. Her hair was dark, swept up in an elegant style. As a matter of fact, almost everything about her was elegant.

  She stared at me with an arched expression on her face. Somehow, I didn’t think introductions were necessary.

  Not for me anyway.

  “Aleena Davison, this is my mother, Jacqueline St. James-Snow.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I extended a hand.

  She accepted, although I had a feeling it was more out of politeness and obligation. After a light press of her palm to mine, she took her hand back.

  “You’re replacing Fawna?”

  I felt more than saw Dominic stiffen. I gave his mother a polite smile. “No one can replace Fawna. The best I can do is hope to rise to the standard she set.”

  “Of course.” She inclined her head and then turned to Dominic. “I should go out and check the arrangements, make sure your staff has everything under control, Dominic.”

  “That’s Aleena’s job, Mom,” Dominic said. He glanced at me. “She’s perfectly capable of handling it herself. Besides, I want you here with me.”