Reckless Love: A Billionaire Baby Steamy Fantasy Multicultural Love Story Rockstar Romance (4 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jasmine

The wedding reception was surprisingly small, and quite formal. The quartet had been invited to join, and sat at their own table – they took a minute to admire the glorious, elaborate place-settings. Jane, the second violinist, was grinning stupidly at Kerry.

“Are you sure you know which fork to use? I bet this crowd is really on top of that sort of thing,” she giggled, eyes sparkling.

“There’s some kind of rule,” piped up Robyn, the violist. “At least that’s what I read.”

Jasmine looked down at her own plate. “It looks like somebody emptied the dishwasher really neatly in front of my chair, she said, looking down at the assortment of cutlery. “But I think you are supposed to start on the outside and make your way inward?”

“Yes! That sounds right!” Robyn sat back. “In any case I am really looking forward to this dinner. I could barely eat today, thinking about our concert this afternoon.”
“Me neither,” Kerry said. “After how rehearsals were going, I was afraid we were going in the dumper.”
“Oh come on,” said Jasmine. “Rehearsal wasn’t
that
bad, was it?”

All three of them looked at her incredulously. “Uhhh…”

“Ok, ok,” Jasmine smiled and ducked. “Sorry guys, I wasn’t exactly at my best. I’ll blame it on the jet lag.” Hers and Kerry’s eyes met briefly. Jasmine was trying not to let her emotions read on her face.

“Oh sure,” Kerry said airily. “Jet lag’s the worst.” She winked at her friend. “It almost turns your whole
world
upside down.”

Jasmine knew she was really referring to the way she felt about Leo.

Speaking of Leo – where was he anyway?
She
looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.
Shouldn’t he be at the head table?

Especially now as the speeches were starting. Jasmine’s mind began to wander. Like a tongue searching out a cavity, her mind was eagerly going to its new favorite obsession: Leo.  Right now it was thinking about his legs, long and muscular in his trousers, leading up to his ass. And what an ass it was: pert, strong, sexy. Perfect.
Where was he?

The champagne glass in front of her was discreetly filled, as there was about to be a toast.

“And now, I’ll have your attention – it’s time for the best man to give us the inside scoop on his brother, Victor, the man of the hour.” There was an awkward moment where people looked around, murmuring. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had noticed his absence.

Jasmine’s and Kerry’s eyes met, in a little moment of panic.

“Leo Wellington-Kerr, the best man,” the emcee said. “Please come to the stage.” As an aside to the crowd. “You know how these rock stars are, always late.” The awkwardness was momentarily allayed as the crowd members looked at each other in amusement.

A murmur started in the crowd, still waiting. Someone was dispatched to find Leo, and finally he appeared, a little unsteadily, in the doorway. He shambled up on the dais, all eyes on him.

He looked at the crowd for a moment, and then gave them all a killer grin. She could feel the excitement in the room rising, although subtly. After all he was a rock star, and gorgeous. But it wasn’t just that. There was a sense of near fear, covered up with mockery:
how is Leo going to behave now? Will he embarrass or entertain us?

As the black sheep of the family, he was always a cause for gossip, but the family rarely had the chance to have him right there in front of them – usually he was on tour. They were used to dull royalty, after all, and the predictability of tradition, and Leo was none of those things. His speech could be a wild card, or it could be nothing out-of-the-ordinary – one never knew.

Jasmine’s own excitement was rising parallel to that of the crowd, but for entirely different reasons - to see his strong shoulders stretching the perfect cut of his suit jacket, his collar open, bow tie hanging rakishly around his neck, and blue eyes twinkling as he raised his glass.

He was just the kind of person who just looked cool. And sexy. No matter what he did. And everyone’s eyes were glued to his every move. 

“Here’s to my brother, a better man than I’ll ever be. I’m sure we’d all agree,” he looked pointedly around the room, the glint in his eyes showing that he was aware of his reputation. When his eyes alighting on Jasmine’s for just a moment, it sent a thrill through her to her center. She shifted in her seat, and lowered her eyes, a soft smile growing on her face. “Always, but especially at this moment, today, it’s clear that he’s the good son – by marrying Eugenie, he’s really stood up and shown what it means to be a real man. Let’s all drink to him, on this most special day.”

At that moment, he leaned his head back and drained his glass completely, cuing the crowd to do the same. Jasmine raised her own glass and took little sip. She did notice that Leo seemed a little overeager for someone who was just toasting his brother, but that was probably the life of the rock musician – hard partying.

While the small crowd cheered and clapped in celebration Leo stumbled off the dais, his short and sweet speech hardly quenching the crowd’s – not love, but
desire
for him – but he knew the cardinal rules of show business:
Always leave them wanting more.

When the band started, and the dancing had begun, Jasmine was stunned to feel a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to come face-to-face with Leo, seeing his stunning blue eyes, gasped a little.

“Didn’t we meet the other day?” He smiled.

“I believe so,” she grinned back, heart in her throat.

“My name’s Leo,” he growled, hand still on her shoulder, making her tremble a little. “But I don’t know your name.”

“This is Jasmine,” Kerry said, leaning in. Leo winked at her.

“Well Jasmine,” his hand lightly traced her shoulder strap, “Would you like to dance?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Leo

Her latte-colored skin under his fingers was soft – almost impossibly so. He couldn’t help but caress it a little as he leaned in toward her. She also smelled incredible. And the black gown was highlighting all her curves.

“Didn’t we meet the other day?” He smiled. He was a bit nervous. It had been so long since he had felt nervous about anything to do with women, that he almost didn’t recognize the sensation. Luckily he was almost able to go on autopilot when it came to getting girls. They mostly just fell into his lap.

Quite literally,
he thought with a smile.

Her voice was smooth, but he thought could hear some nerves behind it as well. He inhaled her scent again as her nosy friend introduced her.

Jasmine. Jasmine. That was the goddess’s name. Perfect.
Now was the time to ask her, if any. His body was responding to her wildly, urging him to pull her toward him, crush her in his arms, but he focused on the small expanse of skin under his left fingertip. The silky smooth skin, perfect size for a kiss. Or a lick.

The amount of alcohol he had up until that point was nearly ideal. Enough to ask her to dance without appearing a mad fool, but not so much that he lost all his inhibitions and groped her or something. He imagined pulling up her dress, and lowering his pants, knowing he was practically ready to take her then and there.
But that’s not what this was about somehow. Dammit.

She lowered her eyes in an unexpectedly alluring way.

“Why I’d love to,” came her answer. “I thought you’d never ask.” He wanted her badly – to hear the purr of her voice in his ear as he laid her, pounding her sweet pussy until she had to let loose and cry out. Instead he held out his arm for her to take and they walked to the dance floor.

It was as he expected. All eyes on him. On them. Why did they even get shocked anymore? She may have been ‘wrong’ for him in all traditional ways, but what did he care about that? So what if most would see a musician playing at a wedding as some kind of servant.  No matter if she was the kind of musician who would sear your memories into your brain, memories of pain and pleasure – she’d still be ‘the help’ in their eyes. And the fact that she was another race, and an American, didn’t help too much either.

But fuck that. For once he wasn’t doing any of this to shock anyone, or to get attention.

No, he just wanted to dance with this lovely young thing, to rest his hand lightly on the side of her hip as they swayed, to lead her around the floor, to feel her move with the music.

And for a few moments, that’s what it was. Just beautiful, subtle communication between her body and his, gentle touches sending waves of electricity. He focused on her lowered lashes, as every now and then he would be rewarded by the flash of her amber, gold-specked eye meeting his.

God she’s beautiful.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jasmine

His dancing was practiced, clearly. They glided around the room, lightly, easily, his hand floating on her hip, the other, warm and grasping her own. She was glad for the few lessons she had had in dancing as a kid, but even if she hadn’t a clue her left foot from her right, the way he was leading her allowed her to relax.

“How did you learn to dance like this?” She finally asked him, when she was able to get herself to look him in the eye. She tried to listen to the answer but she was caught in looking at him, admiring the line of his cheekbones, the hint of five o’clock shadow, his hair tumbling down over his forehead. His scent was intoxicating too. Somehow dangerous. And expensive. Peaty from the scotch, and warm from his cologne. And a little trace of sweat underneath, reminding you that he was a man. 

“…And then the Zorgons returned me to the earth and I was able to dance like Fred Astaire!” he finished.

She realized she hadn’t been listening.

“Oh sorry, I drifted off. I’ve never danced with a nobleman before. And can I blame it on the jet lag?”

“No matter,” he said with a roguish grin.
God, I would drop my panties and take him right on this dance floor.
“It’s better if you don’t listen. Then I have less chance of putting my foot in my mouth.”

“Oh yeah? Do you like toes in your mouth?”
I can’t believe I am saying this!

“The right ones, sure.” His grin now was more lascivious. His hand slid tantalizingly around her waist. “So you played really beautifully today.”
“Oh,” she blushed and averted her eyes. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure anyone was paying attention.”
“They were,” he said. “With this crowd it’s hit or miss. They have their heads so far up their arses that you can’t always tell what they’re paying attention to, but you! You had them eating out of the palm of your hand, I’d say.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

He drew her a bit closer. They danced out of the fray, more toward the side of the room.

Soon the dancing became more like holding each other and swaying. It felt wonderful, but she could also sense lot of eyes on them, and not warmly.
Better leave this for another time.

“Would you excuse me?” she said gently. “I have to visit the powder room.”

“Powder room,” he smiled. “I haven’t heard that one since I stopped watching old American TV. Certainly, I’ll catch up with you later…Jasmine.” Her name in his voice sounded naughty, smooth, and conspiratorial all in one. Blushing, she excused herself again and went off to find the bathroom. As she busied herself in the stall she heard some people come in.

“Well that Leopold, he is a bit
much,
wasn’t he?” said the most posh voice that Jasmine could imagine. The words may have been mild, but the intent was crystal.

It wouldn’t have been more obvious if she had said, “Leo is an alcoholic wreck.”

"What would their poor mother think? He's been spending too much time around the riff-raff," came another voice. “Musicians.” Something inside Jasmine flamed.
How dare they.
But it wasn’t just the reference to musicians that bothered her, even though she wondered the intent – was it the band, or dancing with her that they were referring to? It was the way they dismissed him, when only just a little while before they had been hanging on every breath he uttered.

She cleared her throat, and the comments stopped. She walked out, drawing her petite frame to its fullest height, and looked the women in the eye. The first closed her lipstick and shut it in her pocketbook with an audible, somehow-judgmental snap, and the other busied herself at the sink, as Jasmine did.
The two ladies exchanged glances and then left without another word.

Regarding the gentle smile on her full lips in the mirror with satisfaction, Jasmine tucked a stray curl behind her ear and refreshed her own lip color.

So that’s how horrid things are done here in England,
she thought,
behind a hand, seemingly innocuously, but full of venom. Must be hard for an outsize personality like Leo.
She thought again of that strange mixture of innocence and worldliness in his eyes.
How had he caught her heart so in such a short time?