Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance Boxed Set (10 Book Bundle) (86 page)

I couldn’t help sinking into his embrace. It felt so right being in his arms. The thought that he might hold some other woman the same way made my heart twist and my belly ache. But I shoved those thoughts aside and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of feeling strong, capable arms holding me.

“Daryl?” he whispered.

I tipped my head to look at into his face. “Yes?”

“I want to kiss you.”

A pulse of heat blazed through me. Yes! Yes! I wanted him to kiss me again. “Please don’t.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as his head tipped to one side.

“Y-yes.”

He lowered his head a little more. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

He inched it closer still, until his breath warmed my face. “Are you absolutely positive?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” He kissed one cheek, and the other. Then, holding my hand in his, he escorted me back up the long, steep staircase to the house.

That was a disaster barely averted.

I prayed my willpower held up for the rest of the day.

For the rest of the week.

Tevin was about to be Premier Consultants most sought after bachelor. Once Marguerite had a hold of him, there was no going back.

Chapter 5

It was Friday night.

Friday. Already.

The night of Tevin’s first mixer.

I’d been dreading tonight all week, and now the wait was over.

As I’d expected, Marguerite had been talking about Tevin all week, raving about what a great find he was while being extremely closed-lipped about his finances. While I found that slightly frustrating, that she refused to tell me what she knew about him, it wasn’t particularly unusual. She hadn’t given me any specifics about the financial backgrounds of any of Premier’s other clients. I didn’t want to push too hard for information, fearing my prodding might make her suspicious. Thus, I was left to assume that he was good enough for Premier after passing the background check.

But as the week went on, I could see she was treating Tevin a little better than the other clients. She’d had me call in the best girls for his mixer. Katarina, the model. Josephine the attorney who looked like a model. And Alexis, the neurologist who was not only intelligent and cultured, but also taller and more beautiful than both Katarina and Josephine. There would be a couple of other men at the mixer as well, but those three girls were reserved for him. They were given specific instructions before the men arrived.

Me, I did what I always did, check all the rest of the girls to make sure they were all looking as good as possible, following up with the caterer, to make sure everything was ready, and making sure any last minute details hadn’t been forgotten. Because I was so busy, I barely realized when the event started.

But I knew the moment Tevin entered the room. I felt his presence before I saw him. Felt it deep inside. The sensation was like a warm tingle.

When I spied him, my heart raced. He was looking right at me. And wow, did he look amazing. He was wearing a sweater that showed off his body to the fullest and a pair of pants that fit him to perfection. Our gazes met. His lips curled into that smile that made my insides get warm.

And then Josephine sauntered up to him and stole his attention away.

I’d barely recovered when Katarina elbowed herself in between them and was fluttering her false eyelashes at him.

I hated them both right now.

“Things are going great, don’t you think?” Marguerite said as she scurried up to me.

“Yes, great,” I said with a flat voice.

Coming to stand next to me, she followed the direction of my gaze. “He’s a remarkable man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Where did you say you met him?”

I’d already told her three times. Why she kept asking was beyond me. “At the Red Hawk.”

She tsked. “I can’t imagine a man like him going there. A man so successful, so intelligent.”

Maybe this was my chance, an opportunity to find out what she knew about him. “He told me he owns a landscaping business and dabbles in real estate.”

“That’s true. He does. And he has been extremely successful in both.”

Extremely. That explained the shoes. “He also told me he inherited some money from someone.”

“Yes, I do believe he did. But what has impressed me the most about Mr. Page is what he has managed to accomplish on his own. In a very short period of time. It’s remarkable.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. You know I don’t share the specifics about our client’s finances with anyone, including my staff, but I will say that appearances are a little deceiving in Mr. Page’s case. He doesn’t dress like the man he is.”

“Funny you should say that because when I first met him, I had a pretty low opinion of him.”

Marguerite’s drawn on eyebrows lifted as she laughed. I’d never heard her laugh before. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

I motioned toward him. “He wasn’t even dressed as nicely as tonight. He was wearing old crappy jeans and a t-shirt.”

Marguerite shook her head. “Some men just don’t realize what their clothes say about them.”

“Either that or they don’t care. I thought he was the kind of landscaper that hauled around his beat up lawnmower in the bed of his rusty old pickup truck.”

“Well, I’m glad you took the time to investigate further. He’s a great addition to the agency. He’s already paid in full for a six month membership.”

Six months. My heart sank. I pasted on a smile. “That’s great.”

Marguerite gave me a nudge with her bony elbow. “You, my dear, are getting a nice check next week. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“You can bet I won’t.” Deciding I should get back to work, and happy to put an end to this awkward conversation, I took a step away.

Marguerite caught my elbow. “Just one question.”

I swiveled to face her. “Sure.”

“I see the way you look at him. Why didn’t you keep him for yourself?”

A pang of emotion ripped through my belly. Was it that obvious? Was I staring at him all doe-eyed like a silly little girl? “For the same reason I don’t keep any of them for myself. I don’t need a man in my life right now. It’s too complicated as it is.”

My boss shook her head and strolled away.

Evidently, she wasn’t buying my explanation.

Thankfully, my paycheck didn’t depend upon it.

*
* * *

Three hours later, things were wrapping up and I was ready to call it a night. I’d played referee a few times, heading off fights between the girls before anything got too hairy. Thanks to the new girls we’d brought in, who happened to be the ones causing all the trouble, I’d been fairly busy for most of the event. But that didn’t stop me from catching a glimpse of Tevin every few minutes or so. And every time I looked at him, and saw him flashing one of those traffic-stopping smiles at another girl, it felt like someone had jabbed a hot poker into my belly.

Dammit, I really needed to get over this thing I had for him.

As the night wore on, I could see he was enjoying himself. More directly, he was enjoying the attention Josephine, Alexis, and Katarina were lavishing on him. He laughed at what they said. He flirted with them. He complimented them. He made them all feel special.

Just
like he had me.

After seeing him tonight, I now knew I was no one special to him. I was just another woman he liked to flirt with. Another woman to feed his ego.

When Marguerite rang her little bell and told the men it was time for them to pick one special girl to visit with for the rest of the evening, he had no trouble choosing one. He picked Alexis. Off they went, to the bar across the street, to become better acquainted while Marguerite and I thanked the remaining girls who hadn’t been selected by any of the guys and let them know about next week’s events.

An hour later, after I cleaned up, I was weary, and ready to go home. My plans: turn on the TV and watch every TiVo’d episode of my favorite reality shows until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I trudged out to my car, dumped my purse into the passenger seat, and buckled myself in.

As I drove home I blared the radio. It was a silly, futile effort to drown out my thoughts. And it didn’t work. By the time I shoved the gearshift into park in my building’s parking lot, I felt a little sick. Images of Tevin smiling at those perfect bitches kept playing through my head, over and over.

Couldn’t he see past the fake smiles and fresh-from-the salon hair? Those girls wanted their names on his bank account and his ring on their finger. Nothing more.

Suddenly, I absolutely despised my job.

It wasn’t the best job in the world. It was the worst. I was playing people like pawns in a stupid game. Making promises I couldn’t keep. Promising a fantasy that would never be real.

If I could have, I would have quit.

I snatched up my purse and stomped inside my apartment. Sasha was out on a date with some guy she’d met online. Left to my own devices, I drowned my sorrow in Southern Comfort and vanilla ice cream. By the third bowl, I was feeling a little better. At least I wasn’t ready to call Marguerite and tell her to take her crappy job and shove it.

I crashed on the couch, watching reruns of Big Bang Theory.

The next morning I felt like road kill.

I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

When I woke up again at noon I wasn’t feeling much better. Ugh.

Today I had a date.

With Tevin.

The thought of seeing him made my insides ache.

Would he cancel? God, I hoped so. At my current state, that would be a good thing. A heavy beat pounded in my skull if I moved too fast, and my stomach did a flip every time I even thought about eating.

I stumbled into the kitchen, dug out a bottle of water, grabbed a few aspirins and, after swallowing the pills, dragged myself to the bathroom to take a shower. God help me if Tevin decided we needed to fly somewhere for this date, too.

I felt a tiny bit more human after steaming and soaping and shaving and lathering myself until the hot water ran out. I toweled off and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt and hazarded a trip to the kitchen for the first meal of the day.

I stared into my refrigerator for a while before deciding on toast and soup. Carbs and fluids. Those would hopefully do the trick. Once I’d consumed all my rumbly, irritable stomach would allow, I grabbed my purse to hunt down my phone to check for messages.

I dug to the bottom of my bag. No phone. Had I lost it? Did I leave it in my car?

Risking my head exploding upon being subjected to bright sunlight, I donned sunglasses and barefooted out to the car. I found my phone on the floor, along with an envelope. The envelope was pink, like a greeting card envelope.

Weird.

I scanned my phone for new messages as I headed back inside. I didn’t open the envelope until I was sitting down.

It was a greeting card. On the outside was an old man holding a fishing pole. Inside it said, “
People tell me there's plenty of fish in the sea. But who wants to date a fish?”

It was signed, Tevin.

Below his signature, he’d written, “Looking forward to tomorrow. Get plenty of sleep. You’ll need it.”

My insides got all warm and mushy.

A silly card. He’d given me a silly card. After having spent the evening being chased by over ten beautiful, perfect women.

He still wanted to go out with me. Me! I was ready to shout it out to the whole world.

I reread his message again and again.

Then again, there was nothing overly romantic about what he’d written. But it was the thought that he’d put into buying the card, and putting it in my car that made it so special. But, clearly, he’d purchased the card before last night’s mixer. Had he put it in my car before or after his mini date with Alexis? Now that he had at least three very attractive women waiting for him to call them, was he still interested in me?

Probably not.

Oh hell, I needed to stop overanalyzing this. So he bought a card. So what? Lots of people bought cards. It was a quick and easy way to just say, see you tomorrow.

I slid the card back in its envelope and put it in a safe place. Then, to keep busy, I turned on some music and tidied my living room, kitchen and bedroom, just in case he came in to visit for a few minutes. At about five o’clock I started getting myself ready for the big date.

By ten to six, I was ready to go. And horrifically nervous. I wasn’t sure what to expect. If he’d found someone more interesting than me at last night’s mixer, he might act differently toward me now.

That would be a good thing.

Good for my career.

When the doorbell chimed, I was standing next to the door, wringing my hands and trying to concentrate on breathing. I was breathing, but too fast. My palms were sweaty. I felt a little sick to my stomach.

I peered through the peephole.

He hadn’t sent a driver this time.

I opened the door, and his hand swooped out from behind his back. In it was a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. “Hello,” he said, displaying that same smile that had haunted my dreams last night. He handed me the flowers.

“Wow, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” I stepped aside. “Do we have time to put these in water?”

“Sure.” He followed me as I hurried into the kitchen to dig up a vase. That wasn’t something I used often. I didn’t buy myself flowers, and I couldn’t remember the last time a man had given me any either.

“I found your card this morning. It was cute,” I said with my head buried in one of my kitchen cabinets.

“Glad you liked it.”

“I did.” Grabbing a glass pitcher--it was the best I could come up with--I extracted myself from the cabinet and stood. “It looked like you enjoyed the mixer last night.”

Looking unenthusiastic, he shrugged. No doubt, it was an act. “It was okay.”

“
Okay
. Really? Only okay?” I flipped on the water to fill the pitcher.

“Yes,
okay
.” Watching me, he leaned a hip against my kitchen counter.

“It looked like you were having more fun than that to me.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Were you…jealous?”