Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance Boxed Set (10 Book Bundle) (83 page)

Why was he playing this game with me? Why?

Taking away the fact that it was just plain cruel--him acting like he might be seriously interested in me--this was a lose-lose prospect for me, no matter how I looked at it.

“Tevin...?” Throwing away my pride, and casting aside all attempts at appearing as th
e wheeling, dealing saleswoman I knew I wasn’t, I gave him my best sad-puppy-eyes. At this point groveling wasn’t beneath me. “Please. I know you’re not serious about wanting to date me. So drop it.”

He crossed his arms and shook his head. “That’s my final offer, Daryl. Take it or leave it.”

Chapter 2

I was so screwed.

Already I could hear my aunt’s voice in my head.
So you’ve come back again? Already?

I told you, you wouldn’t make anything of your life
. You aren’t smart. You aren’t beautiful. You aren’t clever. No, you’re just like you mother. Your murdering mother.

I gritted my teeth.
Why was Tevin Page playing me? Was he really that much of a jerk?

I should just tell him to fuck off.

I could.

But then I’d lose a client.

I couldn’t afford to lose a client.

Especially a client that Marguerite herself had been trying to snag.

There was no choice.

He extended a hand, one brow raised. “
One date for every event. Will you accept or decline?”

I placed my hand in his and gave it a shake. “I accept. But you cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone about our little arrangement. Ever.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be fired from my job.”
Not to mention humiliated.

“Ah. I see.” He held my hand a little longer than necessary. As much as I wanted not to enjoy it, I did.
Little jolts of electricity went zinging up my arm. Then they zoomed down my body. Between my legs. “You have my word. I can keep a secret.”

“I hope so.” Worried about being seen holding hands in public with Premier’s newest client, I glanced at our clasped hands.

He released his grip, and I released a sigh of disappointment. “When is the first mixer?” he asked.

“Next
Friday, a week from today.”

“Fine.
” He shoved his hand into his pocket. But this time, instead of pulling out money, he produced a business card. He handed it to me. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Eight o’clock.”

“Tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Eight o’clock.” His lips curled into a somewhat wicked smile. “Looking forward to seeing you then.” And he strolled away, looking confident. And why wouldn’t he? He’d won. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

But I still wondered why he’d set his sights on me. There were so many prettier, smarter women out there for him to meet.

Why the complicated proposal?

*
* * *

As I was staring down into my glass, trying to think my way out of the situation I’d
somehow negotiated myself into, Sasha came staggering back to the table looking irritated. She flopped into her seat and heaved a sigh that could be heard for miles.

“What happened?” I asked.

She squinted at me. “I should be asking you that. Andy and me were having a great time until Tevin told him they had to leave.”

“
So, Tevin wants to leave. That’s not my fault.”

Sasha’s squint became squintier. “I don’t believe you.” She checked the bottles lined up on the table. “Empty. Empty. Empty. What the hell?”
She glared at my half-full glass.

I said,
“You drank them all, not me.”

“No, I swear, one of them was half full when we went to dance.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t drink them.” I lifted my water. “I can’t. I’m the designated driver.”

“Someone must’ve stolen my beer, then.” Looking surly, she glanced around. “Assholes.”

“I think it’s time we head out, anyway.” I stood, grabbed my purse, and jerked my head toward the door.

“No, I want my beer first. It’s bad enough you ruined my chances with Andy. Now you want to make me go home early too.”

Gah. Sasha was getting pissy. I wasn’t in the mood for a pissy Sasha. “It isn’t early.”

“It is.”

I yanked out my phone and hit the button, illuminating the screen. “See? It’s almost time for last call.”

She must’ve been having a hard time reading the numbers. She stared
and squinted but didn’t speak.

“How about we grab some coffee on the way home?”
I suggested.

Pouting, she grumbled,
“I’d rather have tacos.”

“Fine. Tacos. Let’s go.”

I walked toward the door. Sasha staggered, swaying into people as we moved through the thick throng. Occasionally she’d cuss at someone, spitting out a nasty remark like, “What are you staring at, bitch?” or, “Hand off the boob, asshole.” I was glad to get out of there in one piece.

Once I had both of us safely buckled in the car, I took a deep breath. Wow. I’d seen Sasha drunk a few times, but she’d never been this intoxicated. Nor this hostile. Never.
It was no wonder Andy decided he wasn’t interested.

The drinking seemed to be getting a little out of control.
As her best friend I felt I should tell her I was concerned. I didn’t want to sit by in silence and watch her problem get worse. Like it had with her mother.

She was too proud to admit the truth, but I knew her mom wasn’t on a vacation.

She was in rehab. Again.

*
* * *

Before I’d made it to the taco place, Sasha was snoring. No reason to stop.
I didn’t want tacos. I drove Sasha home, helped her into her apartment and onto the nearest soft horizontal surface--her couch. I left a trash can, bottle of water, and some aspirin within reach and headed for the door, figuring she wouldn’t care if I stayed the night or not. But I hesitated there, wondering if I should stick around in case she needed my help.

I glanced at her. She was a train wreck. I couldn’t leave her like that.

I went back to her bedroom, flopped onto the bed and shut my eyes.

We were both in for a long night.

* * * *

By noon the next day, I was feeling almost as shitty as Sasha. I hadn’t slept for more than an hour at a stretch. Sasha’s moaning an
d retching woke me up. The first few times, she didn’t let me get near her when she threw up. But after that she must have been to worn out from the vomiting and crying and apologizing. She let me help her. I held her hair and told her she’d feel better by morning. I helped her drink water. I handed her aspirins and made sure she had a blanket covering her.

It seemed by noon
that the worst was over.

Weary, foggy headed
, and bleary-eyed, I decided to put off our talk about her alcohol consumption, gathered my purse, straightened my clothes, and headed home for some much needed sleep.

As I drove, I thought about the date I had tonight. Feeling as crappy
as I did now, I wouldn’t be very good company. I wasn’t sure a nap would make a difference.

I waited until I was home before I pulled out Tevin’s card and dialed the
first number printed under his name.

It rang three times before he answered, “Hello?”

“Hi,” I said as I kicked off my shoes at my front door. “This is Daryl Laroche. We met last night.”

“Yes,
Daryl Laroche. I remember. You aren’t calling me to cancel, are you?”

He had a nice voice over the phone. Sexy. I needed to sit down after hearing it.

“Um, well, I think I am,” I said as I sank onto my couch. Ah, so soft and comfy and warm.

“No
,” he said.

“
No?” I turned sideways to recline against one arm of the couch and kick my feet up.

“No, you can’t cancel.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a tad controlling?”

He chuckled. I really, really liked the way the sound vibrated through my body. “Once or twice.”

“Then maybe you’ll do something about it if I tell you too?”

“Maybe…not.”

“Hmmm.” I stacked a couple of pillows on top of the couch arm and shifted slightly, sliding lower so my head rested on them. That was better.

“W
hy are you cancelling? I told you I’m good at keeping secrets. Nobody will know a thing about our little arrangement.”

“I believe you. Honestl
y, it has nothing to do with that. My friend, the one who was at the bar with me last night, was a little sick last night.”

“Ah.”

“
All
night.”

“Ah.”

“So, now you see? I’ve had no sleep.”

“None?”

“Well, maybe an hour or two. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good company tonight.”

Silence.
Then, a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll take a rain check.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I didn’t get to the bad news yet.”

“Bad news?” I asked
. Now that I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, I was feeling awfully drowsy. I let my eyelids drop down.

“Sure. There’s always a price to pay to get what you want. Am I right?”

What kind of game was he playing now? “I don’t know. What price are
you
paying in all of this?”

“Oh, take my word for it
. I’m paying a price.”

I didn’t scoff. It was tempting. Surely,
he
wasn’t risking his livelihood to go out on a date with me. Surely,
he
wasn’t risking anything to go out with a girl he wasn’t even genuinely interested in.

Price.

Give me a break.

What was this terrible price? Were his friends all laughing at him for going out with me? It served him right if they were.

“So, what’s the bad news?” I asked, too tired to give him grief over the supposed dear price he was paying, unnecessarily.

“Hmmm. I think I’ll let it go for now. You sound tired. I should let you sleep.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be by to pick you up tomorrow. At noon.”

“Tomorrow’s Su
nday,” I pointed out as I reached up to pull the quilt draped across my sofa’s back over myself. Who went on a date on a Sunday afternoon?

“I know
it’s Sunday. Do you have other plans, church perhaps…?”

“No, I don’t. I mean, tomorrow at twelve will be fine.”

“Good. Then I’ll let you get your rest. You’ll want to be fresh and ready for tomorrow. Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay. I’
ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sweet dreams, Daryl
.”

I smiled at the
low husky sound of his voice.
Keep talking like that and I’m sure I’ll have sweet dreams.
Reluctantly, I added, “Goodbye,” and hung up.

Wow. Wowwowwow. That man…even his voice,
on the phone
, did things to my insides.

Would I
start getting stupid and fall for him after going on just one date? God, I hoped I wasn’t that weak.

Must be the exhaustion.

I dropped my phone on the coffee table and closed my eyes. Imagines of a certain man’s face flashed through my head.

Sweet dreams, indeed.

* * * *

I slept through Saturday and Saturday night. Like a coma victim. An earthquake probably wouldn’t have roused me.

For one thing, not only was I sleeping deeply, but I was having dreams. Great dreams. Lots of dreams. And they were all starring a certain man with a low, rumbly laugh.
Nothing was going to wake me because I wouldn’t let it.

To my shock, I woke up
Sunday morning quivering and pulsing from head to toe, from an actual orgasm. That was a first for me. I had orgasmed. While I was asleep. Dreaming about Tevin Page.

Tevin Page. Premier’s newest client.

I was in so much trouble.

Still somewhat bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the bathroom and woke myself up with a steamy h
ot shower. While I was in there I started feeling tingly all over again. So, deciding I needed to take the edge off before our date, I grabbed the soap, sat down in the tub and closed my eyes.

My fingers slid between my nether lips, one fingertip grazing my clit. Oh, yes. That felt good. Working toward a swift climax, I drew small circles over the sensitive little pearl, and with each touch, I soared closer and closer to orgasm. Within minutes I was burning all over, muscles tense, stomach tight, breathing ra
gged. In my mind, I imagined Tevin watching me. Those dark eyes meandering over my body, sparks of male hunger burning within their depths.

“Touch yourself,” I could hear him say. He was commanding me. Taking control. Oh, how I loved that.

I did as he asked, reaching down with my other hand and pushing two fingers into my tight canal.

His lips curled into a sexy semi-smile.
“Yes, like that. Fuck yourself. Show me how good it will feel when I take you.”

Take you.

A shiver quaked through my whole body.

“Now stroke harder. Fuck that little pussy,” he commanded.

I was in no condition to refuse him, even if he was totally in my imagination. I rammed my fingers in and out, stroking myself into oblivion. I was hot, breathless, on the verge of losing control. Right there. So close.