His Secret Muse: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (3 page)

Of course, the asylum of anonymity only lasts until the show is over about one and a half hours later.

Cedric Crow actually deigned the interviewer with a few more answers and anecdotes about his work and his personal life after I left the stage.

The audience can now rest assured that his next book will actually be published later this year, just as promised, and that he plans to continue providing them with more stories in the years ahead.

He also confirmed that – despite some ridiculous rumors – he is not gay but has no time and no mind for dating at the moment, because his work comes first. Of course, that last bit was accompanied by a round of sighs of relief, followed by girly murmuring and chatting when he showed no interest in dating.

The crowd cheered when he announced one new piece of information that none of them had known before: The fact that he is planning to move back to the East Coast to settle in our city.

Apparently, he grew up in this area. “Partly” as he explained. It was obvious that he had no further intention of talking about that part of his upbringing and that this had been cleared up beforehand, because the interviewer was quick to step to the next question instead of pestering on about that specific detail like he normally would have.

We are leaving the hall in small steps, squeezed among thousands of other guests.

And I feel like all of them are staring at me with envious rage.

They had seen me up there. All of them heard me ramble on about things that I have no clue about because I am not a true fan like they are.

"Let's get out of here as soon as possible," I whisper to Lesley.

She has hardly spoken to me since the show ended. It is no big secret to me how she must feel. There's no doubt that she is equally mad at me - and jealous.

"Yeah," she just says, without looking at me.

"You should have been up there," I say, trying to lift the mood between us. "You would have done so much better and not make a fool out of yourself as I did..."

She turns around and glances at me. I return her look with an apologetic smile.

"You're right," she agrees. "But he didn't ask me. He asked you."

Her voice sounds reproachful. As if I had actively tried to catch his attention and snatched him away from her.

I raise my hands in defense. "I have no idea why he did that! It was a coincidence! He just randomly picked anybody."

I myself am not too sure if that is actually the truth. He noticed me before. He noticed that I wasn't clapping and giggling when everyone else was. Maybe, he even saw me roll my eyes...

It might not have been a completely random choice. If anything he wanted to call me out on the fact that I was not paying the same attention to him as everybody else was. He wanted to punish me for that by publicly shaming me.

That might have been it.

Or I am just over-analyzing things again, and he really picked me randomly. After all, we were sitting right in front of him, in clear sight.

I sigh. My height doesn't make it any easier to hide away. In moments like these, I truly wish I would be shorter. Lesley's height maybe. She barely reaches my shoulder and is the exact opposite when it comes to problems that are associated to a person's size. While she feels regularly overlooked, I am constantly battling the unwanted attention that is given to me, just because I literally stand out.

I reckon that what happened today does not exactly help with that matter. Again, I was the one who drew attention without wanting it, while she was the one who would have enjoyed standing on stage next to Cedric Crow.

She should have been the one standing up there. She would have done so much better than me, and she adores him.

I frown as I recap the situation and ponder about the universe's injustice. What happened tonight was so unfair. Both of us would be happier if it had been the other way around.

We finally reach the cloakroom and fetch our coats. It is already March, but the weather gods did not get the note and still cursed us with icy winds and rain that even turned to wet snow once in a while.

Lesley is just as eager as me to get out of the venue and leave the crowd - and everything else - behind. I feel guilty for somewhat ruining her evening. But I feel that the nasty looks I am getting left right, gazes that stab like hot needles, are already punishment enough.

I hear someone yelling "Excuse me!" behind us, but unlike most around us, neither I nor Lesley turn around to see where it is coming from.

"Excuse me! Miss!"

The female voice sounds more pressing now. Heads are turning around. Even Lesley casts a quick glance behind us.

"Excuse me! Renee!"

My eyes widen, and so do Lesley's. We both turn around and see a woman in a pantsuit approaching us. A sign around her neck signals that she is a staff member.

My heart sinks.

Does this never end? Why can't I just go home?

The woman is a little out of breath when she closes in on us, but she is smiling.

"Got her," she breathes into a tiny headset microphone around her neck.

"Renee," she says. "I'm Mindy. I work for Mr. Crow."

Oh, God no
.

"Yes?" I return.

Again, everybody nearby is looking at us. Some are trying to hide it by averting their eyes and only glancing over for split seconds, but I know that they are paying attention to the conversation as well as they can within the dense crowd.

"If you don't mind, could you come with me for a moment?" She continues. "It'll just be a few minutes."

Great. So this is not going to be over anytime soon. I wonder if I am to sign something that declares that I am not suing him for doing what he did to me tonight. Or that I won't sue the organizer. Or a pledge for me to actually buy his books from now on...

"I'm sorry, but what is this about?" I ask.

Mindy puts on a conciliatory smile and shakes her head. "Nothing to worry about. Please, would you just come with me for now?"

I hesitate and turn around to Lesley. She is not looking at me, but I can practically feel her rage.

"We were just on our way home-"

"Like I said," the woman interrupts me. "It'll be just a moment. Mr. Crow would like to talk to you."

She should not have said that.

My jaw drops - and so does everybody else's around us. Some women are gasping. Even more eyes than before now lie on me.

Lesley is standing next to me, literally exploding with envy.

"Can my friend come with me?" I inquire.

The woman looks down at Lesley, then back up to me.

"I don't know if-"

"I'm only coming if my friend can come with me," I interrupt. "I don't want to make her wait out here."

"Fine," Mindy says. "Please, follow me."

I look over to Lesley as we follow Mindy, who breaks our way free through the crowd. Envious looks are following us from all over, but I don't care, because Lesley is smiling at me.

We are moving against the stream, so it takes quite a while until we reach the area close to the stage. Mindy leads us through a range of doors until we are walking through empty and scarcely lit corridors.

"Is this some kind of secret passage?" Lesley asks. The excitement is clearly audible in her voice.

Mindy snorts. "I guess you could say that. Don't worry, I won't kidnap you."

Lesley laughs, while I - once again - need a little too long to understand the reference Mindy just made.

We walk through another door and end up in a much nicer corridor with bright lights and carpet. The corridor is rather short, and there are just very few doors leading away from it.

I spot two tall and broad guys with headsets. One of them is standing in front of one of the doors while the other is strolling down the corridor. They both turn around to us as we pass the door.

"Bodyguards!" Lesley breathes next to me. "Whoa!"

They obviously recognize Mindy and nod towards her.

"Sorry, that took a while," she says. "Almost like finding a needle in a haystack."

Neither of the men reply anything and just look at us attentively. Not men of big words, it seems.

Mindy stops in front of the door where one of the bodyguards is standing and turns around to us.

"Let me check first. I'll be right back," she says and knocks at the door.

I cannot hear a reply, but Mindy opens the door nonetheless and quickly disappears, closing it behind her.

Lesley and I are left in the corridor, closely watched by the mute but alert bodyguards.

"I can't believe this is happening," she whispers, nudging me in the side. "Thanks for letting me come with you!"

"Letting?" I say, winking at her. "You know I would be lost without you. You saw what an embarrassment I was on stage."

It's true. Her presence alone puts me at ease, even though my heart is still racing. I don't know why, though. It's not like we're on stage anymore. There are not a few thousand people staring at me with malice. It's just him.

Just
him
.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought.

"Besides you're the one who should really meet him," I add. "You are a true fan. Do you have a book of his with you?"

She looks up at me, confused. "I do. Why?"

"Maybe he can sign it?"

Her eyes instantly light up. "Oh my God, yes!"

Just at that moment, the door opens, and Mindy emerges.

She smiles at me.

"Sorry, Mr. Crow would ask to see you alone for now," she says. "Your friend will have to wait for a moment."

I sigh - and so does Lesley.

I follow Mindy through the door, leaving my disappointed friend behind in the corridor.

So, this might actually be about signing some sort of disclosure or non-suing agreement. Why else would he want to see me alone?

I am soon to find out.

The room looks a little like a hotel suit with a fancy seating area. There is a desk in the opposite corner, close to the window, with loads and loads of loose paper and pens on it. He does not seem to be a fan of proper notebooks.

Cedric Crow is standing in the middle of the room, next to a light grey corner sofa and a small glass table. He has taken his jacket and tie off and is only wearing his dark suit pants and a white shirt. His hair is a bit ruffled, and he has opened the top buttons of his shirt. He looks exhausted - but incredibly sexy.

"Renee," he says, approaching me, again with his hand stretched out, as if this is the first time we are meeting.

"Mr. Crow," I reply, as I shake his hand.

"Cedric," he corrects me. "Please call me Cedric."

"Alright," I say. "Cedric."

"Can I offer you a drink?" he asks.

"No, thanks. I'm fine."

He looks over my shoulder at Mindy. "That'll be all for now, thank you."

She nods at him and quickly disappears through another door on our left, that doesn't lead out to the corridor, but to a connecting room.

"Please, sit," he says once she is gone.

He turns to the side and beckons for me to sit down on the couch.

I follow his gesture but still launch into protest. "I really don't have much time, my friend is waiting outside and-"

"This will only be a few minutes," he says, sitting down next to me. He is sitting so close that our knees almost touch.

My heart appears to be confused and is fooled into doing a silly leap when he places himself so closely next to me.

"Do you want me to sign something?" I blurt out.

Cedric leans forward and frowns at me. "Excuse me?"

"I mean," I stutter. "If you want me to sign something to promise that I won't sue you or anything, that's no problem. I can do that."

He laughs and runs his fingers through his gorgeous hair.

So that's how it got so ruffled.

"No, Renee, that's not why I asked you back here," he says, still smiling. "Why would you want to sue me?"

I look at him, baffled.

"Because of what you did to me," I explain. "Humiliating me like that in front of thousands of people. Isn't there some kind of... law against that?"

He shrugs. "Not that I know of. Besides, I wasn't the one who embarrassed you. If anyone is to blame for that, it's yourself, young lady."

Young lady? Why is he talking to me as if I was a little kid?

"Excuse me?" I snort with indignation. "You pulled me up on stage!"

"I did," he says. "And yes, I actually called you back here to apologize for that. I know this was not what you had planned for tonight."

"Certainly not," I whisper.

"I am sorry it turned out to be such a bad experience for you," he adds, smirking at me.

"Are you, really?" I clarify.

He doesn't reply with anything but just sends another smug smile my way.

I have to know.

"Why did you do it?" I ask.

"Do what exactly?"

"Pick me," I add. "I mean, why did you ask me up there? Did you plan to do something like this all along? The interviewer didn't seem to like it either..."

He nods.

"No, it wasn't planned," he responses. "And it wasn't random. I specifically picked you."

My heart leaps. "Why?"

He mysteriously looks back at me. "You didn't clap."

So, I was right. He did notice that. Of course, he didn't like it.

"You neither laughed nor clapped when everyone else was, and if I am not mistaken, you rolled your eyes at me," he continues. "In fact, it almost seemed like you were hardly paying attention at all."

"I was!" I try to defend myself.

"But you never read any of my books, did you?" he interrogates.

I gulp. "Well..."

"It doesn't matter to me," he assures.

"It doesn't?" I ask. "Why then did you drag me up there, if not to punish me for being such an ignoramus?"

He laughs again.

"Who says I wanted to punish you? Trust me. That would look entirely different."

I return his gaze, searching for clarification.

"Yeah?" I whisper. "What... would that look like?"

He looks at me with that eerily intense gaze again. Damn, he is enticing. His eyes are dark, almost black with a piercing intensity. His proximity doesn't make it easy for me to deny that I am drawn to him. But then again, his impressive height might play a significant factor in that. Tall men have always been my kryptonite.

Instead of giving me an answer, he keeps observing me intently. My breathing changes, accelerates. I am sure he notices even the slightest change in my demeanor considering his unnatural alertness.

What a creep.

A sexy creep, though.

It is getting harder and harder to withstand the urge to touch him. There is something about him. More than his dashing looks. The way he looks at me makes my heart skip beats.

"I'm not sure you'd like to find out," he finally says with a low and steady voice. "You are hard to read."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is that so?"

He nods. "You should know, I am good with people. Very good. It's what makes writing stories for them so easy. I can read people, handle them, influence them, even manipulate."

He pauses and waits for a reaction from my part. But I remain silent, just looking at him expectantly. What he is saying does not surprise me at all.

"People, especially women, they are easy. Most of them, anyways. They usually react the way I want them to when I interact with them," he goes on. "It's satisfying to a degree - but it can get boring."

I nod. "I can imagine that."

"Then it shouldn't surprise you that you drew my attention tonight," he says. "After all, you were the only one in sight who did not dance to my silly moves like everyone else. No soulless puppet."

I chuckle. "What if that's only because I wasn't listening? You said you had a feeling that I wasn't even paying attention to you."

"Even if that were true - which I don't think it is," he advances. "Why would that be? Why were you here tonight if you have never even read any of my books?"

"My friend Lesley," I reply. "The one who is outside waiting. She is a huge fan of you. And she's been dragging me to cultural events like tonight for years."

"So, you have been
dragged
here tonight?" he clarifies, smirking at me.

I smile back at him. "Yes. You could say that."

"And then you get pulled up on stage and called out for your ignorance," he says. "Well, didn't that go great?"

"That's exactly what I have been thinking," I say. "Plus, my friend now hates me. Why did you not pick her? She would have given you much better answers than me. Plus, she would have wanted to be there, next to you."

"I don't think her answers would have been better than yours," he objects. "I liked what you said. You are very observant. Very smart."

I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. I have never been good at accepting compliments. But coming from a man like him, they feel almost like a bad joke.

I have never been good at handling these kind of situations like a lady.

"Why are you flirting with me?" I blatantly ask. "Why am I still here?"

He sighs and leans closer to me. I flinch when his hands reach for mine. But I don't move away. He gently wraps both of his hands around my left and holds it up to his face as if he is picking up a precious treasure.

"I told you," he whispers. "I am easily bored. People are so - easy. So easy to read, so easy to handle. I feel like a puppet master most of my life."

He looks at me. "It's only natural for me to be intrigued when I come across someone who is unfazed by me. Someone who poses a challenge."

He pulls my shaking hand closer to his face and plants a soft kiss on one of my knuckles.

My eyes widen with embarrassment.

"Someone as beautiful as you," he adds, now looking back up at me as he lowers my hand back into my lap.

I stare at him with disbelief, breathing heavily.

"You're wrong," I breathe. "I am not unfazed. Look at me."

He smirks. "Yes, right now you are not, and that's the charm about you."

I clear my throat and pull my hand away from him. Whatever it is that he is trying to achieve right now, I have no intentions of making it that easy for him.

"I really have to go," I hear myself say, even though I have no idea why.

I am attracted to him. More than I have been for anyone else ever before. But I'd hate for him to win this one. I am sure he does this all the time.

No time for dating, my ass. Maybe he doesn't call what he is doing dating, but who knows in what ways he is using his impact on his masses of female readers.

Maybe, that's actually his game. To pick up a random girl after every event. I shiver at the thought of it.

He nods. "Sure. But let me give you this."

He leans forward to reach for something on the table in front of us. A little stack of business cards as it seems. He grabs one of them and gives it to me.

"I would like to see you again," he says, handing the card over to me. "There's a number on here I would like you to call if you decide you're up for it."

I take the card and look at it as if it was the key to the biggest secret of humanity.

"And also," he adds and leans over to me. He places his index finger below my chin and gently pushes my face up so that I am looking at him. "I want you to be discrete about this. Be creative. But never tell anyone what happened in here. No one. Understand?"

I hesitate for a moment and frown. "But why-"

"No one," he interrupts. "And I mean it. You heard me on stage. I have no time for dating. That is what I keep saying, but it's for a reason."

He lets go of my chin, but his eyes remain on me.

"What's that r-"

"It doesn't matter, for now," he whispers. "Just promise me to be a good girl and handle this discreetly. You are smart. You should know why any of this could lead to unwanted consequences. For both of us - but more so for you, I reckon."

He might be right about that. After all the malicious looks I have been getting tonight, just for being pulled up on stage by him, I can only imagine what it would be like if these women knew what has been going on in this room for the past few minutes.

And Lesley!

My eyes widen as I remember her standing outside.

"Could you do me a favor as well?" I ask.

He looks at me with a stern face.

"What I asked you to do is not a favor, but an order," he clarifies. "But, yes?"

"My friend," I say, ignoring his little this-is-an-order-interjection. "She is standing outside, and she is dying to meet you. She has a book with her that she would love you to sign."

He sighs.

"Please," I add. "She's a really nice girl, and she devours your books and she-"

"Sure," he interrupts. "Call her in."