The Billionaire's Forbidden Desire (21 page)

Restlessness rode him. He dragged his hands through his hair.

Okay
,
let’s not get ahead of ourselves here
. He didn’t
know
anything. It could be just a coincidence.

Right. He should just crawl back into bed and get some sleep. He really should.

Except…

How many red Lamborghinis had hit a taxi in Paris that particular November?

* * *

After two scotches to bolster himself, Dane called Henry Wagner’s personal cell phone.

After three rings came Henry’s sleep-heavy voice. “Hello, Dane. Is everything all right?”

“That depends. I need to verify something.”

Henry yawned, but he didn’t complain. He was a partner at Rosenbaum, McCracken, Wagner, and Associates. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“My car accident in Paris. You handled it yourself, didn’t you?”

“That’s right, along with some associates from our firm in Paris.” Henry didn’t sound so sleepy anymore.

“Name or names of the people in the taxi. What were they?”

A slight pause. “I don’t remember,” Henry’s tone was Teflon-smooth. “It was so long ago.”

“Then remember by COB tomorrow and call me.”

“The files are in storage in our Paris office. It’s going to take at least a week or so to pull the information.”

“Are you telling me it’s not in a digital database?”

“That’s right. I feel bad saying this, but I don’t think I can help you if you need the information right now.”

Did the lawyer think Dane was stupid? Henry had a memory like a bear trap—once information entered his brain, it never left.

“They were paid five million dollars, Henry,” Dane said quietly. “It makes you sick to your stomach if you have to cough up five cents more than you have to. Are you telling me you honestly have no clue?”

“Sorry. Like I said, it was seven years ago.”

Dane hung up, not interested in bullshit excuses.

Henry wouldn’t have tossed five million bucks out there without an okay from somebody with a lot of monetary control in the family. Since Dane hadn’t known about it, that left either Shirley or Salazar.

Dane started dialing his father’s number, then stopped. If Henry was keeping quiet, it was due to a strict directive from someone in the family. The only person alive he’d obey like this was Salazar, and Salazar was the last one who’d tell Dane what he wanted to know.

He thought for a moment, chin in hand, then dialed Benjamin Clark. He needed a dossier on his accident ASAP, and nobody could get it faster than the family’s PI. After the beep, Dane left specific instructions for the PI to follow.

Once he was finished, he pressed a corner of his phone against his temple. Then he noticed Sophia’s purse and texted a few orders to the concierge service his family used.

It was already one o’clock; sleep was the next order of business. There was nothing more to do until Benjamin got back to him.

But he couldn’t force himself to go back to bed. His muscles were too tense, and his nerves wouldn’t settle. So many horrific possibilities were rattling around in his head. And no matter how he sliced and diced it, things didn’t end well.

Sophia awoke, and opened her eyes blearily. The bedside clock glowed 03:10. She turned over…then realized Dane wasn’t there. She reached out a hand; his side of the bed was cool.

For a moment, she’d thought he’d left, but this was his home. She shrugged into a robe she found in the master bathroom and went to the living room. The table was cleared of everything, and she frowned. Had Dane gotten up to clean up?

Then she heard it—a soft whirring and dull rhythmic slapping of rubber against rubber. Following the sound, she opened the door to another room. It was a home gym with a dark night view of Los Angeles. Dane was on a treadmill, facing the window and running. Sweat dripped down his bare torso in rivulets. Three empty sports drink bottles lay on the floor.

His motions were pure art, his biomechanics perfect. He would’ve made a great athlete if that had been his passion.

But his expression… It wasn’t that of a man enjoying himself, or even someone merely focused on exercise. Desperation and something else she couldn’t identify showed in his eyes.

He noticed her and stopped the machine. “What are you doing here, Sophia? Did the sound wake you up?”

She shook her head. “I just woke up.” She handed him a towel from the built-in rack. “Why are you running at this hour? Didn’t you say we have to get up early?”

“Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

His tone was too casual, too cool. Something must’ve been bothering him, but she couldn’t begin to guess.

“Are you upset I said no to Paris?” she said, trying for levity. “Ask me again, and I just might say yes.”

Just as she’d hoped, he smiled. “You don’t have to go someplace you don’t like just for me.”

You shouldn’t say such sweet things
, she thought. It was harder to keep her heart locked if he wasn’t even slightly selfish.

She held his hand. “Let’s shower and go to bed.”

“The two of us? I’m sweaty, but you seem okay.”

“It’ll save water, and I won’t have to do it in the morning.”

She gave him an impish smile as she pulled him toward the master bathroom. He didn’t resist. Dumping their clothes on the tiled floor, they walked into a huge glass stall with multiple chrome showerheads, and soon warm water was cascading down their naked bodies. He poured some kind of green shampoo into his hands and washed her hair, massaging her scalp. She closed her eyes and moaned softly. It felt good…too good actually.

He rinsed her hair and washed her body this time, paying particular attention to her breasts. His soapy thumb brushed over her hardened nipple. She gasped as slick heat started pooling between her legs again.

“Bad boy,” she murmured. “You’re supposed to make yourself clean.” She pumped body soap into her hands and rubbed it all over his hard body. A faint scent of pine and spices filled the stall. “I’m going to smell like your soap.”

“I like that,” he said against her wet neck, his tongue lapping at the water droplets.

“So do I.” She reached down and fisted his hard cock.

A breath hissed out of him, and he pumped into her hand. She ran her thumb over the slit at the tip. The slick precum coated her skin. What would he be like in her mouth?

Almost instinctively, she dropped to her knees. The strong column of his neck worked as he looked down at her, his eyes bright.

She flicked her tongue over the bulbous head. “You know, I just realized I never got to taste you.” Her hand wrapped around his shaft. It was so thick and long, she couldn’t believe it fit her so perfectly. “And you got to have me twice.” She dragged a fingernail along the underside of his cock. “Hardly seems fair.”

She pulled the head into her mouth, working her tongue over it like a lollipop. He made a low guttural sound and wrapped her wet hair around his fist. She wondered for a moment if he was going to try to have her mouth at his pace, but he kept himself in check.

Humming her appreciation at his control, she took more of him until he filled her completely. He was salty with a hint of musk. The tight, flat muscles in his abs jerked as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked.

She palmed his balls and bobbed her head, desperate to make him feel as good as he’d made her when he’d gone down on her. She wanted him to forget whatever that had been bugging him enough to make him run so late at night. Rough breathing and the guttural groan rumbling in his chest urged her on.

“Make yourself feel good, Sophia,” he said. “I want to feel you come with my dick in your mouth.”

Heat sizzled along her spine. She put a hand between her legs. Her folds were already drenched.

She fingered herself, just the way he had. Her fingers curled, hitting the spot he’d hit with his cock earlier. Her lungs worked harder to drag in more air, and she increased the tempo of her mouth and hand. The tendons in his neck stood out as he clenched his teeth, and she knew he was very, very close.

And he’d never let go until she’d gotten off first.

“Come for me,” he ordered, his voice harsh.

An orgasm crashed through her. As she rode one wave after another, he tightened his hold on her hair and pumped in and out, his pelvic muscles flexing. She felt his balls tighten, and at the final instant he pulled out, spurting all over her chest.

The warm water washed away his hot seed. He pulled her up and kissed her hard. “You drive me crazy,” he said.

She smiled. “So do you.”

He rested his forehead against hers. They breathed in each other’s air for what felt like an eternity. Finally she pulled back and cut the water. “Think you can sleep now?”

He nodded. They dried each other and went back to bed. She curled around him, wishing she could heal his wounds so he’d never be compelled to run like that again.

* * *

Sophia got up early as usual, then grimaced as she surveyed her clothes on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Dane murmured, still lying on his side of the bed.

“My clothes.” She picked up her top and skirt. “They look so…wrinkled and worn.”

He yawned. “Don’t worry.”

“Says the man with a closet full of fresh clothes.”

“You’ve got some, too.”

“I do?”

He sat up. “They should’ve delivered them by now.”

He put on his robe and went to the entrance. She trailed after him. Sure enough, there were three boxes by the door, all with a gold-over-black logo that looked pricey. She didn’t recognize the brand, but Dane had expensive tastes.

“There you go. That should take care of your problem.”

“When did you order these?” she asked in awe.

“Last night.” He picked them up and placed them on the coffee table. “See if they’re acceptable. If not, I’ll have another set delivered.”

She opened them one by one. The first box held lingerie—a lacy white bra and matching panties…plus a garter belt that made her raise her eyebrows—and work clothes. A green silk blouse and a mustard skirt went surprisingly well together, and the material felt luxurious and soft against her skin. The second box had a pair of ballet flats, and the final box had a makeup kit.

“And everything the perfect size,” she mused. “How did you know?”

“Well,” he said, looking somewhat smug and self-satisfied, “I did touch you more or less everywhere.”

She flushed. “Calibrated hands?”

“You could say that. Are they acceptable?”

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you. You think of everything.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “They’re nothing. Belated birthday present.”

“Last night wasn’t it?”

“I think I enjoyed myself too much to call it a present for you.” He grinned.

It was so unexpectedly sweet and boyish that she almost couldn’t breathe.
People are wrong about him
, she decided. He’d just never allowed himself to show his warm side. And why would he, when he’d been told he should never have been born by the one person who should’ve loved him the most?

She swallowed a small lump in her throat and smiled. “I’ll make breakfast. Why don’t you get ready?”

“We can just grab something on the way.”

“I insist.” She tiptoed and kissed him on the mouth before she could stop herself. “I can do a mean omelet.”

* * *

Dane couldn’t say no to an omelet, especially one that Sophia made. She puttered around in the kitchen, while he returned to the bedroom to get dressed.

As he put on his cufflinks, a small voice said it wasn’t like him to enjoy a domestic scene. He hated it when women didn’t get the hint and leave as soon as sex was over, and he always showered afterward so he could rest without any lingering remnant of them on himself.

But Sophia was different. He didn’t want her to leave, and he didn’t want to wash her away either. He held the bed-sheet to his nose. It smelled faintly of her. He should leave a note to housekeeping not to wash it.

Don’t get stupidly sentimental
.
You don’t know what Benjamin’s going to say
.

The cold reminder stopped him in his tracks. He pulled out his phone. Nothing from Benjamin yet. It had happened seven years ago. Sophia might have been mistaken about the other car being a red Lamborghini. After all, she’d said a lot of things were sort of hazy. She could’ve confused a Ferrari or something for a Lamborghini. And she’d said it had happened in the evening. Harder to see at dusk…

He rubbed his face. There was no reason to think the worst—and such pessimism wasn’t like him. If Sophia had received five million dollars seven years ago, would she be in the dire financial situation she was now? Probably not. He should just wait and not spoil the happiness he’d found with her.

Dane would’ve preferred to keep Sophia away from the family mansion, but she was worried about Roco. So after sushi for dinner later that day, he drove them back to Salazar’s house.

“You know, Al’s very good with dogs,” Dane said.

“But Roco’s my responsibility. I’m sure he misses his mommy.”

Dane gave up. He wasn’t going to win against her sense of responsibility, and it was cute and endearing that she took her dog-parenting so seriously.

“Did you ever have a pet growing up?” she asked.

“We weren’t allowed.”

“Was it because your mother was afraid that they might break something?”

“No. Dad didn’t want any.”

“Oh.”

“There are a lot of things that he lets you do that we weren’t allowed to do.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Was that why you thought he and I were together?”

“Something like that. The Aston Martin you drove is very rare. Same model that Sean Connery’s double-oh-seven drove. Iain, Mark and Shane would all give their left nuts to take it out for a spin.”

“I had no idea.”

“I know.” He hadn’t believed it before, but now he did.

By the time they reached the house, it was a little past nine. Al as usual was waiting for them, his back ramrod straight. The man could teach posture to ballet dancers.

“Sir, a special courier came by half an hour ago to deliver this.” He handed Dane a brown envelope.