The Billionaire's Forbidden Desire (14 page)

“Thanks.” Dane gave her a small smile.
Good to see you
. Right. That was the last thing she was thinking, since every staff member was well aware of the tension between him and his father.

They got to the top of the staircase; Dane’s eyes narrowed slightly as Al directed them away from the master bedroom suite that Salazar used. When they reached the end of the hall, Al stopped. “Here you are.”

The suite’s double doors opened, and a housekeeper walked out. “All ready for you, sir.”

Dane turned to the butler, about to ask if he hadn’t understood Dane’s instructions about wanting a room next to Sophia’s. Then he saw that Sophia had peeled off from the small party and opened the next door along the hall. “Good night, everyone,” she said, and slipped inside.

Dane tilted his head. Interesting. He’d assumed she’d be sharing his father’s room, or the one right next to it. Was this distance simply for the sake of appearances? If so, who would talk? Al would never gossip about it, and the housekeeper knew better than to tell anyone who Salazar slept with. The only possible exceptions might be other family members.

Possibly.

“That’s her room?” Dane asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Been hers all along?”

“Of course.” Al hesitated, then added, “If you’re worried about Miss Sophia, there’s really no need. She’s been treated with every bit of decorum and respect she is due.”

Dane shook his head as he entered his own suite. Al had no idea how
un
reassuring his words were. Sophia was Betsy’s daughter, and it was true that Geraldine hated Betsy. But Salazar wasn’t particularly close to his sister, and his idea of the level of “decorum and respect” Sophia was due was probably very different from Al’s. The butler should’ve known better.

After all, he’d been with Salazar for decades. Just like Dane.

The next morning, Sophia walked Roco and went to the breakfast room. There was only Salazar at the table. She glanced at the clock. If Dane didn’t join them soon, he’d be late for work. He didn’t seem like the type to be tardy.

Salazar set aside his newspaper and smiled. “Good morning, dear. How did you enjoy your first day at work?”

“It was great. Thank you.”

“Any difficulties and you let me know.”

“Of course,” she lied. She had no intention of involving Salazar.

Al set her breakfast of scrambled eggs and fruit salad and yogurt. She murmured her thanks. When he was finished pouring her morning tea, she turned to Salazar. “There’s something I need to talk to you about. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.”

“What is it?” Salazar peered at her over a fine, bone-china coffee cup.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to drive your car anymore.”

“Not dri—? What do you mean? It’s a great car!”

“Oh, I know. It
is
a great car…but it’s too much.”

“In what way?”

“It just…draws too much attention. And it’s too valuable. What if I get into an accident?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure the other driver will have a heart attack, wondering how he’s going to pay for it.”

She choked on her tea, but managed to not spit any of it out. “Yes, well… Now that Dane’s here, it’ll be easy enough to carpool.” If he could invade her space, she could return the favor. She didn’t want him thinking he could intimidate her that easily.

“Ride with Dane? He drives slower than my dead mother.”

“Observing the speed limit is hardly a flaw.”

Sophia turned in the direction of the cold voice and almost swallowed her tongue. Dane stood at the doorway, topless. Sweat beaded on his tanned skin and rolled down the hard planes. She’d seen a lot of good bodies—after all, she’d been surrounded by young athletes in their prime—but Dane’s physique redefined greatness. So much power leashed in those big muscles. Not an ounce of fat on him anywhere.

She remembered how strong he’d been. He’d caught her like she weighed nothing. Carried her to the bedroom effortlessly. Pulled her close to his body.

Heat curled in her belly.

It was unfair. If a man spent most of his time in the office, he should have a soft, pale body that didn’t make her mouth water or cheeks flush.

“Are you joining us?” Salazar said.

“I don’t have much appetite.”

“Didn’t you just go for a run?”

“Should I feel like eating, I’ll grab something in the office cafeteria.”

“Suit yourself. You always do.”

“Learned from the best.” Dane went upstairs.

Sophia turned her head to watch him climb the stairs. The workout shorts showed off his tight butt.

“Asshole,” Salazar muttered.

“Excuse me?” Sophia said.

“Nothing.” Salazar smiled, but his eyes stayed cold. “Nothing at all.”

* * *

Sophia waited for Dane to show up in the foyer. It didn’t take long.

He came down in a suit, hair still slightly damp from a shower. He smelled like spicy aftershave, soap and clean male flesh.

A small frown creased his eyebrows when he noticed her, but he walked past, his thumb scrolling the screen of his phone. Without looking up, he opened the door and walked down a few steps to the cars waiting outside.

“I need a ride,” she said, following him out.

He paused, then turned around. “Are you talking to me?”

“Of course I’m talking to you.”

“What happened to the Aston Martin?”

She shrugged. “I decided not to drive it anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want any misunderstanding.”

He gestured at a red Lamborghini. “You think carpooling is going to prevent a misunderstanding?”

She sucked in a breath. She hadn’t realized it was his car. She hated red sports cars, and Lamborghinis in particular. It was a red Lamborghini that had crashed into her taxi and ended her career.

So what? This isn’t the same car
.
It happened in Paris
.
Do you really want to go back to Salazar and ask him for a key to one of his cars because you can’t deal with Dane’s over something that happened seven years ago?

He climbed behind the steering wheel without waiting for her. Her mind made up, she got inside quickly before he could say no. She wasn’t letting the accident hold her back.
It was a long time ago
.
I have to think about now
.

“Misunderstandings aren’t limited to cars,” he said as he pulled away from the Pryce family mansion.

“There’s more?”

“Your dog. I saw him in the kitchen this morning.”

She blinked. That was the last thing she’d expected him to bring up. “What about Roco?”

“My father has never allowed any of us to have a pet, especially a dog. My grandmother bought one for us, but she had to take it back because he wouldn’t bend the rule. It upset her, since he used to like dogs, but what could she do? His house, his rules.”

“I didn’t know. I guess he let Roco stay since sending him away wasn’t an option for me.” She would’ve risked sleeping on the streets than give up Roco.

“Right.”

She gritted her teeth. She was beginning to hate that word, especially when spoken with such cynicism. “He’s just being nice.”

Dane snorted. “One thing you have to understand about my father is that he’s never ‘just’ nice. I told you that already. I meant it.”

“So what do you suggest I do? Be suspicious of everyone around me? Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“At least you won’t get fucked over.”

I give up
, Sophia thought. It was impossible to talk to a man who was determined to see the worst in everyone. What had made him so harsh? She’d meant what she’d said about the privilege he must’ve taken for granted.

On the other hand, he might also have experienced some emotional hardships she knew nothing about. Salazar had been kind to her, but he might’ve been a difficult to please father, harsh with his children.

She stared at the traffic. It looked like a parking lot rather than a highway. She counted the number of blue cars…then the hybrids. It wasn’t a bad game to distract herself.

“You can relax,” Dane said suddenly. “I’m not going to fuck you over.”

She turned to him. “Am I supposed to take that at face value?”

He chuckled. The sound was genuine, void of malice or derision. “Not bad.”

“Why did you get a Lamborghini if you drive like an old woman?” she asked.

“Says who?”

“Salazar. Actually, he said a dead woman. And you didn’t disagree.”

Dane paused, his knuckles whitening briefly. “I bought a red Lamborghini because my father didn’t like it.”

“Really?”

“The Lamborghini part was fine, but according to him it should have been anything other than red.”

She shook her head. “Was he worried about getting tickets?”

His mouth curled into a smile. “We don’t worry about things like that.”

“You don’t?”

“It’s just money. No, the problem was the color itself. Heresy to drive a red Lamborghini. He can be a bit of a stickler for things like that, mostly because he has no imagination or taste when it comes to colors. Or art for that matter.”

“You don’t like your father, do you?”

“No.” A beat of pause. “He’s an asshole.”

She frowned. She felt disloyal for even listening to Dane talk about Salazar like this.

Dane’s gaze darted toward her before it focused back on the road. “Where did you think I got my sparkling personality from?”

Not touching that one
. “Are you going to give me more busy work, like helping people who obviously don’t need my help?”

“She’s a bride-to-be. People like her always need help.”

“And I’m the queen of France.”

“You’re my assistant. It’s your job to do what I tell you.”

“There are limits.”

“Yes, to my forbearance with recalcitrant employees.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “But I’ll make you a deal. A bet.”

“A bet?”

“If I win, you move out of the family house. Actually you leave the city entirely. Maybe even the state.”

Her chest felt like someone had driven a spear into it, but she didn’t know why what he was proposing hurt. He’d never implied that he saw her as anything other than an intruder. “What do I get if I win?”

“You won’t.”

“Let’s say I do.”

He shrugged. “Fine. What if you win?”

“You owe me two hundred bucks, plus you’re to treat me fairly, instead of like I’m the antichrist or something.”

He snorted. “I’ve never treated you that badly.”

“Yes, you have. So what are we betting on?”

“Something that requires skill. I hate games of chance.”

“All right.”

He gazed out the windshield, his eyes narrowed. “How about a race?”

“You mean like a sprint?”

“Distance. A few miles.”

“You’re a foot taller than I am, and besides, you run all the time.”

He considered. “Swimming?”

“Can’t. Bad shoulder. And you’re still taller.”

“Hmm. Something that will negate the height advantage,” he said, thinking about it. “How about ice-skating?”

Ice-skating?
She pretended to mull the idea over. “That would be…acceptable.”

“Then why don’t we go a few laps at a rink? Whoever’s faster wins.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “You’re going to embarrass yourself.”

“I doubt that very much. I used to play hockey.” His smile was full of superiority and insolence. “Can you even skate?”

She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. He was delusional if he honestly believed hockey would give him better speed and edge control than she had. “I’ve been known to strap on a pair every now and then.”

He arched a skeptical eyebrow.

Yeah
,
keep that eyebrow cocked while you still can
.
You’re going down
. “Let’s make it challenging. Twenty laps forward, twenty backward.”

“Fine.”

She grinned. “You’re on.”

* * *

Dane grabbed a buttery bacon-and-egg-stuffed croissant and a giant, extra-espresso latte from the cafeteria and went into his office.
Artery clogging be damned
, he thought. Given the kind of night he’d had, he deserved it.

Sleeping in the room next to Sophia’s turned out to be a challenge. It would have been nice to blame his lack of sleep on the fact that he was under his father’s roof, but he hated lying to himself.

It was her.

At least she hadn’t snuck down the hall to Salazar’s room at night. He was a light sleeper. He would’ve heard it.

But the nightmare would be over soon enough. He settled at his desk and went over the agenda for the day, then checked his emails.

As soon as he finished his croissant—which coincided with the simultaneous deletion of over two hundred messages he wasn’t even going to acknowledge—Blake came in. He was the oldest of the Pryce-Reed cousins, a partner at the firm, and the only person Dane considered a friend. The shape of Blake’s eyes was much like his father’s, but he had the famous Pryce profile, something he’d inherited from Geraldine. Combine that with his dark hair, he looked more like a Pryce than a Reed, which probably soothed Geraldine.

“Do you know who your new assistant is?” Taking a seat, Blake gestured at the door with a huge tumbler that read,
Want a piece of me?

“Of course I know. I hired her.”

Blake blinked. “You’re kidding. She’s
the
Sophia.”

“The one and only.”

“You know it’s going to upset my mom. She still hasn’t forgiven Betsy.”

“It would’ve upset her more if Salazar had hired her instead.”

“Salazar? What’s the story there?”

Dane leaned back in his seat. “What are you doing in L.A.? I’m sure you didn’t fly out here from Boston just to talk about my new assistant.”

His cousin had an office in the city, but didn’t spend much time there. He was too busy splitting his time between Boston and Washington D.C.

Blake sipped his coffee. “I was, but then I figured I should be in L.A. Mark’s wedding and all.”

“That’s not for another two weeks.”

“Yeah, but Dad’s getting married again. Being on the east coast means having to watch him with Future Wife Number Six. I’d rather not.” Blake shuddered. “I’m not even sure she’s finished high school.”