Heart of the Billionaire Page 8

I was interrupted when a tall man opened the door to our box and stepped inside, the very man I’d secretly hoped I’d never see again.

  There was a slight pause before Nick straightened up and smiled like some wicked jack-o-lantern. “And this, friends, is Robert. He’s just a dick, easy to remember.”

  Robert’s eyes narrowed when they fell on Nick, widened automatically when they caught sight of me and Abby, then tensed nervously when they came to rest on his brother. “Can we talk?”

  James stared at him but didn’t say a word. For a split second, I thought he might chuck his twin right over the side of the balcony, but in the end, he pushed silently to his feet and followed his doppelganger to the entryway of our private room.

  “Hurry back, James,” Nick called loudly, staring at Robert with open loathing. “The second half’s about to start. You shouldn’t waste time on things that just don’t matter.”

  “Very subtle, babe.” Abby nudged him in the side, then turned her gaze back to the stage. “Would you like to use the binoculars? Then your passive-aggressive campaign will be complete.”

  She meant it as a joke, but Nick seized the idea with enthusiasm. “Brilliant, love.” He picked up the glasses and kicked his legs up on a chair, openly spying as he tried to read their lips. “This is why I married you.”

  Abby flipped him off right in front of the lenses, then pushed to her feet. “I’m going for more champagne. Della, would you like some?”

  “Absolutely...and thanks.”

  I watched her go, then turned back to Nick. I studied him curiously as he proceeded to blatantly spy on his best friend. From where we sat, I could hear only the fringes of what was going on, a muffled exclamation of, “James, you can’t be serious,” which I was sure earned a colorful, memorable reply.

  “Do you ever think about doing it?” I asked suddenly.

  “All the time,” Nick said with a naughty glint in his eye, “but I’m a married man, darling. Sorry. I’m afraid Abby would kill us both.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “No, I meant...what James is trying to do. Have you ever thought of taking over your father’s company.”

  “No point in false hope, Della. That old man’s too rotten to ever die,” Nick replied matter-of-factly, never peeling his eyes from the binoculars. “He made a deal with Satan long ago. He’s doomed to live forever.”

  I snorted under my breath, then turned to stare at the identical silhouettes in the entryway. “He can’t be worse than Robert.” A belated shudder ran through my shoulders as I drained what was left of my champagne. “Ever since that night back at the office...” I broke off suddenly, terrified that I had almost let it slip.

  My abrupt silence, more than anything, cued Nick in, and he lowered the binoculars slowly and studied me curiously over the golden rim. “What night?”

  I shook my head quickly, trying to brush it off. “It was nothing, just a stupid argument.”

  “About what?” The binoculars disappeared, and all at once, I was trapped in the world’s most piercing gaze. “An argument between you and Rob or between that slimy bastard and someone else?”

  I was paralyzed, like a helpless gazelle in the sights of a lion. Another shiver ran across my arms, and without thinking, I glanced automatically at James, all the confirmation Nick needed.

  A light went out in Nick’s eyes as he turned to Robert with an expression that made my blood run cold. A second later, he was hopping to his feet and crossing over to the coatroom.

  “Where the hell are you going? The show’s not over,” James said, catching Nick by the shoulders as they crossed paths. “The second half’s about to start, and—”

  “Phone call,” Nick said automatically. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  With that, he slipped out into the dark after Robert, and without stopping to think, I raced after him, leaving James standing in an empty box as the lights began to dim.

  “Rob!”

  I rounded the corner just as Nick caught up with them, two tuxedoed men in the middle of a crowded hall.

  Robert turned around with a fake smile on his face, but he seemed to turn to ice when he saw who was talking to him.

  Nick had never been one to mince words, so of course he got right to the point. “When James and I went camping the other day, I noticed that he was walking with a bit of a limp. You don’t happen to know anything about that, do you?”

  Robert paled but held his ground, glancing nervously at the people milling about, all hurrying to get back to their overpriced seats. “What do you plan to do, Hunter? Hit me?”

  Nick stopped his predatory approach, his face lightning with a deceptively charming smile. “What? In front of all these people? Why, that would be assault and battery, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, and if you lay a finger on me—”

  “How about five of them, you bastard!” Nick yelled, and in the next second, he pulled back his fist and punched Robert right in the face.

  There was a muffled crack before Robert fell to the floor amidst the crowd of shell-shocked people, clutching his bloody nose. He tried to speak, but words failed him, and he could only lie there, humiliated and aching.

  Nick stepped over him and gave him one last look of disgust before heading back to our box. “James should have eaten you in the womb.” When he spotted me, just staring at him in disbelief, he offered his arm and a little smile. “Never a dull moment at the opera, huh?”

  When we returned to the box, we found James and Abby literally on the edges of their seats, completely absorbed in the music. The lights had dimmed, the opera had started, and the two were completely oblivious to the other drama below them. One glance at the stern look on Nick’s face told me he was resolved to keep it that way.

  A tray of champagne sat behind them, and Nick handed a flute to me, winking at me in the process—a silent invitation, paired with a silent promise. I waited a second to accept it, but then we shared a secret smile before settling down in the remaining chairs.

  I was worried about the fight that had just taken place. Nick had most likely just broken Robert’s nose in the hall. Before ten full minutes passed, I was fidgeting restlessly in my chair.

  A hand reached out of the darkness and came to rest on mine.

  I stared into a pair of twinkling eyes.

  “Is someone getting bored?”

  I shook my head quickly, having recently come to understand full well how much James happened to enjoy the opera. “No, it’s wonderful. Sorry. I was just... Sorry.”

  James fought back a smile and squeezed my hand affectionately. “Would you like to check out the rest of the theater?”

  I glanced around in surprise. “Can we? Now?”

  He was on his feet in an instant, lacing his fingers through mine so the two of us could steal away.

  Chapter 11

  ON OUR WAY OUT, NICK leaned over, and I heard him whisper to Abby, “See? I told you I’m not the only one who wants to get lucky at the opera.”

  James and I tiptoed down the dark corridor and onto a roped-off stairwell. I never noticed it before, but it was as if James had been searching for it the entire time. It was almost impossible to maneuver in my magnificent gown, and after a dozen missteps and giggles, James actually swept me off my feet to carry me into a deserted hallway on the fourth floor.

  That area was far different than the rest of the theater, like a world all its own, rustic and charming in its own special way. The floors were wooden, not blanketed in velvet carpet. Instead of fancy art, the walls were adorned with stage directions and careful instructions for lighting. There were several entrances and exits, and a lone wig was strewn over a lamp in the corner. A half-dozen pairs of mid-century shoes were scattered about the floor.

  “Gosh, no,” I said, pulling a few inches back, staring down at him in dread. “This isn’t an impromptu performance, is it? You don’t actually have a part in La Bohème, do you?”

  He threw his head back to laugh, then set me gracefull
y down on my feet. “No, Della, I’m most certainly not spiriting you away to the stage as part of some grand humiliation.” He laughed again at the thought. “I did, however, want to show you one of my favorite rooms.” Then, with a grand flourish, he opened a door set deeply into the wall and beckoned me inside.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle too. Of course it was among his favorites, because it was an eccentric’s dream, like walking into a bohemian wonderland. The costume closet was long and narrow, packed to the gills with every article of clothing from every historical era I could imagine and some I couldn’t. There were matador capes, clusters of fairy wings, and enough royal garb to dress the entire Windsor family with some to spare. Feather boas, peasant frocks, an entire shelf dedicated to replications of Hamlet’s skull, and countless hats also occupied the space.

  “This is just...incredible.” I leaned back into the hangers with a grin, wrapping a faux fur trench coat around my shoulders. “I’m willing to bet we’re not supposed to be in here though.”

  James stepped forward with that same mischievous smile on his face and slipped his hands around my waist. “I’m not opposed to doing what I’m not supposed to...especially in here.”

  My eyes widened as he pulled me away from the coat racks, setting me gently atop a counter lined with huge bulbs of light. “James, we can’t do that in here!”

  “Why not?” He slipped off his tuxedo jacket, parting my legs casually in the process, and stepped between them. “I make a generous donation to the opera every year. Surely that entitles me to a few...perks.”

  I leaned back against the mirror, trying to catch my breath. “Like fucking your girlfriend on top of the makeup counter? I don’t think so!”

  “Come on, Jones.” He reached under my dress and pulled off my panties in one devilish whoosh. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  Well, when you put it that way...

  Somehow, a microsecond later, our positions were reversed. Now, James was pressed against the wall, with shock all over his gorgeous face, while I sank slowly to my knees in front of him.

  “Oh, you might be surprised by how adventurous I can be, Mr. Cross,” I said, then yanked down his pants. “Perhaps it’s best to show you.” I offered him no word of warning, no initial caress or kisses or foreplay. One second he was just standing there, staring down at me in shock, and in the next, I had my lips wrapped around him.

  “Fuck,” James whispered, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “I take it back. Y-You have a...you’ve got a great sense of adventure, Della.”

  I bit down gently, raking my teeth along his skin as I quoted his own words from the shower: “Quiet! I require complete concentration.”

  He was hardly in a position to refuse, but that didn’t stop him from laughing quietly as he wound his fingers into my hair. “You’ve got a bossy streak, too, don’t you?”

  I bit down again, and his entire body stiffened in reply. “I said quiet!”

  He laughed.

  In his defense, he really tried to obey, but I’d always been very skilled in that particular game, so it didn’t take long for him to lose control. His back arched, his hips swayed into me, and he threw an arm across his face just to muffle the sound of his own labored breathing.

  I had never enjoyed that as much as I did then. There was something deeply fulfilling about watching the effect the slightest movement on my part had on his manly physique. He responded to my every touch, breathlessly surrendering himself to my every command. Faster and faster I moved, forcing him to try harder and harder to keep himself together.

  Finally, when he couldn’t take it any longer, he tried to pull away. “Della...” His shoulder blades pressed against the cabinet wall as he tried to catch his breath. “I-I’d really like to... I need to fuck you...now.”

  A little grin crept across my face, but I refused to stop what I was doing. If anything, his begging only enticed me to do it at a quicker pace, driving him mad.

  “Fuck...” he said again, barely a whisper. He dropped his head against the wall again, moaned quietly, and closed his eyes as every muscle in his stomach went simultaneously taut. His lips parted with a silent gasp, but this time, when I raked my teeth across him, he let out a sharp cry. “Please,” he begged without shame. “Enough!” Another moan escaped his lips, and his breath caught in his chest. “Let me... Della, I must fuck you.”

  My lips closed over him.

  He clamped his hands down on my shoulders. “Della, please!” he cried.

  “I love the word please. That’s all you had to say.” I stood, then unzipped my dress and let it fall to the ground. He was mesmerized and couldn’t stop staring at my lacy, red and black lingerie.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, picking me up and carrying me to a spot that was much softer, laying me on a dozen silk blankets.

  I touched his face. “I can’t stop thinking about you, today... tomorrow... always.”

  “And I am so completely in love with you.”

  “Hearing you say that is like a dream come true.”

  “What can I say? You are my angel, my life, my entire world,” he said, unaware of the sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall.

  “James!” I jumped to my feet and clapped a hand over his mouth, just as the door opened.

  No less than twelve sweaty people hurried inside. For the second time that day, James’s eyes snapped shut with intense frustration.

  “Holy hell! It is hot under those lights!” said a man who’d been singing lead for the better part of the show. He slumped into a chair, pulled off his wig, and angled his face in front of a fan. “I swear, if they don’t do something to repair the air conditioning, I’ll have to start going commando!”

  “It’s not the lights.” The high soprano settled smugly in the chair beside him, gazing at her reflection with a self-satisfied smile. “It’s the audience, love. James Cross is here tonight, along with Nick Hunter.”

  I found it ironic that she was talking about James, all while she unknowingly rested her elbows upon the very counter where he’d ripped my panties off just a few minutes earlier. I shot him a secret grin, but he only rolled his eyes and tried to sneak back to find our clothes in a sea of costumed clothing. It was no use. We couldn’t get to our clothes without being caught red handed.

  “When Frank told me, I nearly forgot the words to my first song,” the soprano continued, leaning toward the mirror to dab a brush of powder onto her nose. “The things I’d do to that one if I got him alone...or both of them at once even!” She pulled back and looked at her colleague with a smirk on her pretty face. “Why, they wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks.”

  James stopped trying to secure his pants and let them fall back around his ankles, staring at her curiously. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing and gave him a silent shove to the chest.

  The man shot her a sarcastic smile before turning back to the fan. “He’s with someone tonight, some model in a purple dress.”

  Model? They think I’m a model? I thought and had to suppress another laugh.

  “He’s always with someone, dear,” the girl said, brushing the remark off with a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter to me what the flavor of the week is. I’d just like him to sample me sometime.”

  I raised my eyebrows in teasing accusation, but James shook his head and gave me an innocent frown. A second later, he cocked his head toward a tiny bathroom in the back. He took hold of my wrist, and we wound our way silently through the fields of garments.

  “Melanie, is this your underwear?” a man’s voice, light with surprise. “I hope so. It’s fucking hot.”

  We nearly burst with laughter when a woman divided the clothes apart and gasped when she saw us.

  Busted!

  We each grabbed one of the thin blankets and covered ourselves.

  The woman took a step back, throwing her hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh! It’s them!!!!! James Cross and the model chick!�
�

  “She’s a Victoria Secrets lingerie model!” another shouted.

  James took a step back and tripped on a box. As he fell, he accidentally pulled me along with him. But I made sure I had my blanket securely around me. Gasping, they all gathered around us and stared.

  “Um, hello,” James said. “I just wanted you to know that this is my favorite show and I come to watch it any chance I get. You are all so talented and deliver such an amazing performance.”

  “Just get our clothes!” I whispered in his ear.

  “Is that really you, Mr. Cross?” a blonde man with short, spikey hair whispered. “And why aren’t you wearing pants?”

  “Honey, isn’t obvious?” another man squealed. “They’re getting it on! Do I need to go over the birds and the bees again?”

  “And not watching my performance?!” another said. “The man is never getting his pants back now!”

  “Can we sell the undies on eBay?” another asked.

  Oh my gosh! This was so embarrassing!

  “Can I get a selfie with you?” a man with a high voice asked.

  Before James could scramble up or say no, he dropped down next to James, angled his camera, and took a selfie of the three of us.

  I was mortified!

  James jumped up and held his hand down to help me up. “Listen, I’m going to need you to delete that picture.”

  “Are you kidding me? Nobody will believe I found a lingerie model in my rack of costumes! It’s like a fairytale come true!”

  “Listen, we need to be discreet about this. I’ll pay you.”

  The man cocked a brow. “How much?”

  I bit my lip. “You don’t have your wallet, darling. Let’s work on negations to get our clothes back first.”

  “Shit!” James said. “Okay, listen. Is there any way to get back our clothes? Please?”

  I shot them a weak smile. “Please just give him back his pants. It has his wallet, and we’ll, I mean, he’ll pay you.”

  They looked around but our belongings had mysteriously disappeared. I was sure someone ran off with them, probably to sell on eBay as previously mentioned. Or maybe that one guy took them, the one that was mad we weren’t watching his stellular performance. But hell, I was about to get a stellular performance of my own!