A Fragile Heart (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (6 page)

Elena briefly explained the misunderstanding about the idea of where to eat, telling him that she had finally chosen, which seemed to silence Josh for a moment.

“You don't think you’re getting out of your depth, do you?” he said, gently. “I mean, if you haven't got the clothes to go to fancy places with him what future is there in it?” Josh was not one for philosophical discussions, and this was probably the furthest he would probe into any of her relationships.
   

But still, he had voiced Elena's own fears. She was moving into unknown waters with this very deep and complicated man, and she tried not to think where it might all be going, or if there was even a future in it.

“It's just a casual arrangement which suits us both,” she said. “We're going out again next Sunday, probably an art gallery or museum, then Covent Garden. He works all hours, you see, and has never made time to see all the sights right on his doorstep. And neither have I.”

Josh picked up his guitar from the floor and started rummaging around for a packet of new strings.

“I'm washing up at the pub later by the way,” he informed her. “Casual money.”

“Well don't forget to ring home. It's Sunday night,” Elena reminded him.

They still kept up the pretence that Josh was at university. He would ring their mother on Sunday and Elena would call her later in the week, saying that sometimes she’d seen him for a coffee, or that he’d called her. Elena had tried to warn Josh that he must tell their parents the truth about dropping out of uni soon. She could imagine a point where it would all blow up in their faces if they tried to keep up the facade for too much longer.

She pushed the thought from her mind. All she wanted to do now was pour herself a glass of wine and go over in her mind, minute by minute, the amazing day she’d just experienced.
 

She felt it hard to believe that she’d spent time with a real-life billionaire, and that he had even confided in her about his unhappy childhood and how he’d made his wealth.
 

Still more unbelievable was the fact that he had suggested getting together again next Sunday! After all, she knew that she had not exactly been the easiest of companions, still feeling prickly and defensive. As far as she was concerned, she found it hard to believe that
 
he might want to continue seeing her, and the question kept niggling at the back of her mind: what did he want from her? Friendship? A companion for the sights of London? An easy listener? Sex?
 

Elena had been on a couple of casual dates since she’d been living in London, but knew straight away then that she wouldn’t take things any further. She just couldn’t. She was still bruised from being dropped so harshly, and it had affected not just her confidence but her willingness to let herself feel any physical attraction, too.
 

Until today, that was …
 

She knew, deep down, that if Guy had tried harder to persuade her to go home with him, she would have happily stayed the night. But she also knew that she had no idea how he felt – after being married to a famous supermodel surely other women must pale into insignificance? She didn't think that he was just interested in a one-night stand, after all he must surely know heaps of beautiful, elegant women who would be happy to oblige him.
       

Elena went to bed, picking up a paperback to try and help her relax. Sunday nights had always seemed flat before now, another weekend over and just the working week ahead, but tonight she felt different. Perhaps life was taking an unexpected and exciting turn for the better, and she had next weekend to look forward to.

Chapter Ten

The following Sunday they met at Trafalgar Square, visited the National Gallery, and rode on the open top bus. Guy kept the conversation going with his enthusiasm for all the recognisable sights and Elena was able to supply some interesting historical information which she’d looked up on the internet. She wondered if he would tell her any more about how he’d turned that gift from his uncle into the fortune he had obviously made.

For the next few Sundays, they continued with their sight-seeing, on the river to Greenwich Observatory, walking along the Embankment to the Tate Modern art gallery and standing outside the gates of Buckingham Palace, watching the changing of the guards.
 

Elena began to feel that she was getting to know London, was becoming part of the city, instead of just viewing it as a place to work. They grew
 
confident and relaxed in each other's company, usually ending the day with a meal at an inexpensive restaurant. Guy had not suggested any more glitzy hotels and Elena was relieved by this. At one point, she’d explained very briefly that her younger brother was staying temporarily with her after dropping out of uni, but left the discussion there.

Spring finally arrived. They were sitting in Covent Garden, listening to a quartet from one of the London music colleges playing classical music. It was a simply perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon, watching the crowds go by with the beautiful music drifting in the background.

“I've never been to a classical music concert,” she said.

“I can get us tickets if you’d like to go?” Guy answered warmly.

“I'm not mentioning it just because I want you to take me,” she said, feeling awkward, as though she’d been dropping hints, which was the last thing she intended. “It
 
must be expensive.”

Guy turned towards her, catching her once more in his gaze, sending another shockwave of excitement through her, despite her best attempts to ignore it.

“Elena, you mustn't be so guarded in what you say to me. I can buy you anything you like, but I also sense that is not what you would want me to do?”

She decided that she would try and change the subject, as money seemed to be a source of difficulties between them at the moment. There was such a difference in their circumstances that Elena just tried to avoid bringing up the subject as much as possible.

“You were going to tell me what happened after your uncle left London,” she said instead.

Guy leaned towards her on the bench and, not for the first time, she wondered if he had any idea just
how
attractive he was, in his casual chinos, black cashmere sweater and that soft, grey, brushed-wool overcoat. He remained silent for a few moments, his thick brow knitted, and Elena wondered if she had been a little pushy.

“Do you
really
want to know?” he asked. “And do you want the real version or the polished one?”

She wasn't sure if he was joking, but replied that reality would be best.

“When I was helping Uncle Jack and moving in some quite dodgy areas, I started going to a local gym. There were some characters out there who should be completely avoided and others you needed to stand up to. I was a bit of a stringy, lanky kid and I thought it might be a good idea to build myself up a bit.
 
Anyway, when I had the lump sum of money from Jack, I went back to the gym and had a long, hard look round. It was a bit scruffy and tired, and not really in the best of neighbourhoods, but what it had going for it was one of the best trainers south of the river. It just needed investment.”

“And so you put money in?” Elena asked, fascinated to hear the rest of the account.

“Yes. I could see that it needed smartening up. Some new equipment and an advertising campaign to draw in the right customers. I offered to invest, as long as I had a share in the finished company. I risked most of the money and in a year had turned it around.”

They had settled back on the bench and Guy slid his arm slowly along the back, his fingers gently brushing her shoulders. Elena felt she could sit there for the rest of the day. People thronged around them, but she was lost in another world, trying to picture the young Guy, taking the first steps towards his fortune.

“After that, it was a question of whether to sit back and enjoy the money coming in, or take a risk and continue looking for other investments. You can probably guess the answer.”

“You obviously succeeded,” she said. “You must have the right instinct.”

“Not without some hair-raising moments along the way. Believe me, Elena, I'm not exactly a smooth operator when it comes to business ...”

She did believe him; there was something slightly dangerous about Guy which had not been tamed during his transformation from unwanted kid to sophisticated billionaire. It was only a short time later that she had this feeling confirmed.

They had gone to a little Italian restaurant that evening, just off the popular area of Covent Garden. It was small and cosy, with terracotta walls, murals of Venice and Italian music playing softy in the background. Their were candles on the tables and the wine glasses shone in the reflected light.
 

The owner, Luigi, obviously knew Guy and welcomed them warmly, showing them to a table at the side of the
 
room.

“Sorry you can't have the usual table, Mr Silver,” he said, nodding to a candlelit table in the window. “They insisted on a window table.”

“That's okay,” Guy replied and they sat down to study the menu.

They ordered starters and wine, and as they were settling in, Elena became aware of a growing tension in the small restaurant. The couple in the window table had obviously been drinking throughout the day. The girl was swinging on her chair, giggling and sweeping back her long, blonde hair, while the young man, in a loud, upper class voice, was complaining to the waiter.

“Ask the manager to come out,” he ordered, and gradually the room began to fall silent as Luigi tried to placate him, but whatever he offered to do only seemed to make the complaints about the food and service even louder and more offensive.

“We should have gone somewhere decent!” he shouted. “Not this second rate place ...”

Luigi was looking worried, glancing around the room at the other diners, hoping to avoid any further embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” Guy said to Elena as he stood and strolled across to the table in the window. Elena and most of the other diners watched as Guy leaned over the young man, put both his hands on his shoulders, pinning him to his seat and spoke quietly in his ear.
 
Guy continued speaking quietly as the man paled and tried to struggle up. Eventually Guy handed him his coat and pulled out the chair for the girl as she stumbled to her feet. They left the restaurant and a sigh of relief seemed to echo all around the room.

Luigi came over, breathing hard and wiping his face with a napkin.

“Thank you, Mr Silver, they were getting ... difficult.”

“That's ok, they won't be back, and put anything they've had on my bill.”

Elena couldn't help it, but she felt excited by the incident, sensing a raw power in Guy, bubbling just below the surface, which all the money in the world had still not tamed and perhaps never would.
 

“How did you do that without getting into a fight?” she queried once Luigi had left them alone again.

“I just told them they were sitting in the seats usually reserved for Luigi's friends. I also mentioned the names of these friends and what they might do if they found Luigi upset for any reason. The names are quite well know in the underworld.”

“And are they really Luigi's friends?” she pursued.

Guy’s handsome face broke out in an enigmatic smile. “You don't need to know that.”

As he leaned across the table and took her hand, Elena tried her hardest not to tremble. The day was proving way more exciting than she had ever dreamed possible. She knew she was falling in
 
love with this powerful but unpredictable man and there was almost nothing she could do about it.

“I think it's time we moved things on Elena,” he said softly, his eyes burning and intense. “I have to go away on business for a while to Hong Kong, but when I come back I’d like to take you away somewhere. Think about it. At some point, I want to take you to bed and you won't come to my house or invite me up to your flat. I want to break through this defensive wall you always put up, Elena. Because whether you believe it or not, I find you attractive. I want to get to know you properly and get you to trust me ... So? What do you say?”

PART TWO

Chapter Eleven

Elena rolled over on the lounger and reached down onto the deck. She poured herself a fresh glass of champagne, before replacing the bottle carefully in the sparkling silver ice bucket. On the table was a tray of delicious nibbles and a bowl of fruit.
 
She selected a small square of filo pastry filled with smoked salmon and cream cheese, and took a bite.
 
She closed her eyes, listening to the gentle slap of the waves against the sparkling white hull of the boat.
 

The sun was at its midday heat, so she decided to stay there beneath the shade of her parasol, until later in the day, when she might risk half an hour of topless sunbathing whilst the skipper and his mate went on shore in the small motor boat to collect any supplies needed.
 

She looked around at the incredible blue of the sky and turquoise of the rippling sea. Guy had gone below deck and, not for the first time, she felt utterly amazed at the speed with which her life had changed.
 

He’d been completely definite when he said that he wanted to move the relationship forward and had asked her to take at least two weeks holiday from work, to sail with him down the coast of Italy at the end of May into June.
 

He’d swept aside any uncertainties she had, telling her that they would fly to Nice and pick up the luxury yacht which the company kept moored there, then they would sail slowly across the Ligurian Sea, and south down the coast, stopping anytime they felt like exploring remote sandy coves and beaches, or exploring the coastal villages,
 
making eventually for the Bay of Naples. It had all sounded like a dream, but here she was: Elena Walsh experiencing something she could never have imagined.