Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels (70 page)

Vincent Frazier. One of the few men at the stables who’d dared to ask her out when she first started working there. Sasha had politely refused his attentions but Vincent had seemed to have it in for her since then. How long had he been standing behind them and listening to their conversation?

What an ass.

Sasha glanced at the jockey dismissively, turned back to Linc’s gaze. He was still smiling at her, his look knowing and kind.

She looked away again, unable to say anything else.

Chapter Fourteen

Sasha smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, watching her reflection do the same in the mirror. The dress was white, ended modestly at the tops of her knees and had a neckline that only showed off the sharp blades of her collar-bones. But it was sleeveless and fit snugly to her curves. A gift from Damien a few days before along with a pair of black spike heels she’d had to practice walking in. The shoes were five inches high, a soft black leather, and had straps that buckled around her ankles. He hadn’t seen her in them yet, only told her to wear the dress and shoes to the staff party that he had planned for everyone at Taylor Stables for the feature article that they had landed in Equestrian this month.

In the mirror, she looked almost innocent with her black hair loose and wavy around her shoulders, her tan deep and flattering against the paleness of the dress. Her legs looked miles long in the black stilettos. But then she’d added one accessory of her own. She hoped Damien liked it. Sasha took a deep breath and grabbed her purse, barely paying attention to her small, shabby apartment.

It was just a place for her to store her things now. Not a home. Not a sanctuary. This was even after Damien had come to find her there and scrub any awful feelings she had about the place from her mind. At the end of the day, it was still the place James had forced her to turn to. It was still a reminder, one of the several daily reminders, of what she had been forced down to since her brother came back into her life.

She had unpacked the boxes of her few remaining belongings, cleaned up as much as the apartment could be cleaned, changed the dead light bulbs and got the office to fix the outlets that didn’t work. Now, it was almost a decent place to live. Watermarked ceiling, cracked walls, and all.

Keys in hand, she left the apartment, negotiated the pock-marked walkway to the parking lot and her car. She started the little Honda and drove out into the muggy summer evening. Sasha felt the oppressive weight of her situation begin to float away the farther she got from her apartment. And the closer she got to Damien.

At the country club where Damien hosted the party, Sasha surrendered her little car to the valet and walked in through the wide doors held open by the smiling doorman. The marble floors were loud under her high heels as she walked toward the ballroom where the party was being held. On a Friday night, the place was aflood with life. Women in expensive dresses, men in their tailored suits. Low, aristocratic voices threaded with the occasional laughter of someone not used to the repressed quiet of a place like this.

Sasha walked in the direction of the laughter, convinced it belonged to one of her co-workers at the stables. She was right. Elise, one of the secretaries, stood at the entrance to a ballroom chatting with one of the jockeys. Even in her low-heeled sandals and her height of barely five and a half feet, Elise was taller than the man who was trying to pick her up.

“Hey, Frankie. Hey, Elise.” She greeted her co-workers with a guarded smile, not sure how she would be received.

Elise, pretty and brown in a bright blue dress, glanced at Sasha with a smile of her own. Her face was open and guileless. “It’s good to see you.” She moved her drink to her other hand to lean in and give Sasha a hug. “Seem like we haven’t seen you around in forever.” Elise smelled like peach schnapps and maraschino cherries.

Frankie gave her a more restrained greeting, a mere nod of his head, but he took a long and thorough look at her body. “Damn girl, you clean up good,” he said. A smile flickered across his face. “Is that why you’ve been AWOL after work, you’ve been out getting under the knife to get that killer body?”

Sasha winced but knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Thanks to her lack of funds, she hadn’t been able to do the community things she’d regularly indulged in before her brother had shown up with his demands. This meant no more impromptu lunches with the other jockeys. No more bowling nights with Linc and a few of the guys who worked the track. No more socializing at all where she had to spend money.

“I’ve just been hiding from you, Frankie. I hear you’ve been a real bitch to everyone lately.” He was the sweetest of all the jockeys. And even with his very vocal appreciation of the women who worked with him, he was happily married to his high school sweetheart and wouldn’t even think of doing more than talking to another woman.

Frankie laughed. “Good to see you back.”

She returned his smile and stepped past him and Elise to go into the ballroom. Just as she’d expected when Damien told her he was having the staff party at the country club, the room was massive. High ceilings. Gold leaf trim around the two fireplaces. The walls were a lush and sensual red. Taylor Stables staff already crowded the room, looking their best while laughing and enjoying the party that their boss threw for them every year. Jockeys, trainers, the admin folks, along with their dates, family members and friends.

At the back wall of the room, Sasha could see a long table filled with food for the taking. A bar was set up nearby, serving beer, wine, and as many cocktails as the staff could handle. Waiters strolled through the crowd offering up trays of champagne and canapés. All for free.

The first year she had worked for the stables, Sasha had been stunned by the generosity of her new boss, unable to believe he would have a party with unlimited food and drinks for the people who worked under him for no particular reason. Even without knowing Damien then, she had thought he was kind and generous, someone she was proud to work for.

“Sasha!” Michelle, the vet who took care of all the stable’s animals, greeted her with a smile and a warm hug. “What, you don’t go bowling anymore?”

Sasha clung to Michelle for as long as was polite, swallowing a lump in her throat as she realized just how much she had missed the older woman’s companionship. Michelle was the very opposite of Sasha - tall, blond, and voluptuous, the body of a sex goddess shielding a cool and logical heart. She was the smartest woman Sasha had ever met.

“You know I love bowling,” Sasha said. “I’ve just been busy with some unexpected things.” Heat moved under her cheeks at the reality that she couldn’t even afford to pay for a night of bowling. She swallowed the anger and humiliation. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I—” She swallowed again. “I miss you guys.”

Michelle met her eyes from her superior height, a frown between her pale brows. She tenderly held Sasha’s elbows in her palms, pulling her close. “If there’s anything wrong, you know you can tell me.”

But why would I? I’ve been alone and I’ll always be alone.
“I know,” Sasha said, fighting to keep the shaky smile on her face.

“Good.” Michelle didn’t seem convinced but she lessened the intensity of her gaze. “Come say hi to Gracie. You know my wife misses having you to talk horseflesh with.”

Then the vet drew her along to talk with her wife, another tall beauty who Sasha felt privileged to know. As she talked with Michelle and Gracie, she suddenly became aware that Damien had entered the room. She wasn’t sure how she knew it but abruptly, the very air felt different, more charged. She raised her head, only half listening to the conversation between Michelle and her wife while her eyes searched for Damien in the crowd. It wasn’t long before she found him.

Her breath left her in a rush. He looked powerful and heart-stoppingly gorgeous in a tailored black suit and a pale blue tie that perfectly matched his eyes. His neatly cut blond hair shimmered under the lights as he bent his head to talk with a woman Sasha didn’t recognize. She curled her fingers, overcome with the sudden need to touch him.

“Are you even listening, Sasha?”

She jerked her attention back to the conversion and immediately felt Michelle’s amused gaze on her. Gracie shook her head, turning to look and see what had captured Sasha’s attention so completely.

“Oh, him.” Gracie grinned wickedly. “I think every straight woman in here has fantasized about him at one time or another.”

“And some not so straight,” Michelle teased, causing her wife to blush prettily.

As Michelle and Gracie teased each other, Sasha looked around and realized that what Gracie had said was true. There were more than a few women who were looking at Damien like he was the last piece of fried chicken at the country buffet. She’d always known he was an attractive man. And she’d had her own share of fantasies about him before they started sleeping together. Now as she watched the subtle and not-so-subtle yearning of many women around him, their hot gazes blasted his way, she felt the unfamiliar mantle of jealousy settle over her. She stirred, uncomfortable with the feeling.

“Are you okay?” Michelle looked at her with concern.

She tore her eyes away from her lover. “I’m fine, just...”

“Are you one of those in lust with him, too?” Gracie asked, her smile teasing.

The veterinarian’s wife glanced over at Damien who suddenly looked up and caught Sasha’s eyes. She blushed, the heat moving swiftly up her neck and into her cheeks. She swore that his eyes dipped to her mouth, then lower. They widened slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t have been able to tell but she saw him go completely still as he looked at her neck, gaze settling at her throat before rising slowly to her eyes. He said something to the woman he was talking with and then began making his way toward Sasha.

She looked away from him, feeling the lashing heat of his regard all over her body, but especially on her neck. She didn’t have to look at him approach to know that he was being stopped at nearly every turn, one person then two impeding his progress to thank him, to question him, to adore him.

Gracie and Michelle exchanged a look. Then Michelle opened her mouth. “The better question would be, is he in lust with you?” She glanced over Sasha’s shoulder with a look  of speculation on her face.

Sasha blushed again. “That question is—”

“Good evening, Sasha.” Damien’s voice came from just behind her, deep and resonant.

She trembled, kept her eyes open with a force of will as she felt his heat close behind her. She wanted to sink back into him. Feel his hands on her throat. Submit to him. Kiss him.

Instead, Sasha turned. “Damien.” She smiled, deliberately casual. But did not touch him.

Her boss greeted Michelle and Gracie with one of his most charming smiles while the women watched the byplay between him and Sasha like they were at the theater and sitting in their box seats. She felt Damien’s eyes on her throat again. Sasha surreptitiously licked her lips.

“Sasha, you look lovely as usual,” Damien said.

He seemed to use talking to her as an excuse to lick her with his eyes. The heat of his gaze went straight between her legs. Then, as if unable to help himself, he lightly touched her elbow. His lashes flickered briefly at the jolt of heat that passed between them. Then he was all casual posture and smiles, asking Michelle and Gracie about their puppy and their newborn son.

Michelle, who had shown pictures of the baby around the stables a few days before, clutched her wife’s arm and began a soliloquy on the unparalleled beauty of their new baby. Sasha exchanged a smile with Gracie, who had actually carried the child, a product of Michelle’s egg and the offering of a sperm donor.

Damien’s warmth at Sasha’s side was damn near paralyzing. She felt as if she was staring at him like an infatuated fool, her skin aware of every breath he took, every flicker of his lashes. She cleared her throat and excused herself from the conversation before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. He looked briefly at her with a wolfish smile, then turned back to the two women.

Sasha slipped through the crowd, stopping to talk with many of the other jockeys she hadn’t had the chance to connect with outside of work in the days since her brother made an appearance. They weren’t cold to her as expected, most greeting her with slaps on the back or appreciative glances at her outfit. Their welcome sparked tears in her eyes, made her heart fist tightly in her chest. The only person who didn’t seem at all happy to see her was Vincent Frazier. His pale gray eyes tore across her body like an angry chainsaw.

Not long after she’d rejected his offer to go out on a date, she’d walked in on him telling two other men what a bitch she was, how she was a talentless jockey who whored out her body to stay on at Taylor Stables. Sasha had been furious. Too angry to guard her tongue, she stormed into the paddock and gave him her iciest stare. Told the other men that Vincent was just angry because he wasn’t man enough to be allowed the privilege of getting into her pants. And that he was barely jockey enough to hold onto his job at the stables. If he wanted to compare talents all they had to do was look at his record of success compared to hers. She had more wins. She was more consistent. With the most disdain she could put into her voice, she had stared at him as if he was nothing.

“Maybe you’re the one whoring yourself out to stay on at Taylor Stables,” Sasha had said. Then she walked away, leaving Vincent sputtering curses while his two companions laughed.