The Hotel 3 (The Billionaire Seduction) (5 page)

“Fine.”
Dom says
curtly. He’s staring into space, looking troubled and tense.

“Are
you…?”
I pause. “Is
everything OK?”

He
turns to me. “What
do you think?”

Is
he talking about the hotel or
us
?

“I
think you’ve
been through a lot,” I
say carefully. “But
Lillian and your brother aren’t
the enemy. They’re
trying to help. You’re
not in this alone.”

His
eyes are unreadable.

“And
what about you?” he
asks, piercing me with a stare. “Are
you just ‘trying
to help’ too?”
He’s still closed off, radiating power and control. He never
gives anything away, no hints about his real feelings, but it just
makes me long for the old Dom: wild and untamed.

.
“I’m
sorry for everything that’s
happened. You have to know, I never planned any of this.”
I reach for him, without thinking, and place my hand on his arm. The
touch between us is electric.

I
want more. Skin to skin. God, he’s so close.

“But
it happened.” Dom
breaks contact. “I’ve thought
it through from every direction. You
could have come clean the first day of your internship. If you’d
told me about the set-up, I could have figured out the legal
ramifications of what happened. Instead, you played along, and I was
blindsided.”

“I
didn’t
tell you that first day because I was terrified of losing my job. But
then things spiraled. And I didn’t
want you to find out, not when I was falling in love with you.”

The
words slip out before I can stop myself. I freeze, but part of me is
relieved. I should have told him in Paris, and then I should have
told him the truth.

Dom’s
expression changes. His eyes blaze into me, I’m
silently praying for him to say something. The silence stretches on,
until, finally, he takes a deep breath.

“Juliet—“

Another
voice interrupts us. “Well,
look at you lovebirds. Finally kissing and making up?”

Xander
strolls over, smirking. Dom tenses, and the shutters on his
expression slam down.

“Jesus,
haven’t
I dealt with you enough today?”
Dominic
snaps. His face is stony now, and whatever he was about to say to me
is history.

“I’m
not here for you, brother. Juliet is the only one I want.”
Xander winks,
and I want to strangle him.

“Dom—”
I turn, but
he’s
already on his feet, looking brisk. “See
you back at the office,” he
snaps, and walks away.

“Whoops?”
Xander
offers, not at all concerned.

“You
don’t
even know,” I
sigh, and follow him out to his car. It’s
red – of
course – and
sporty, with leather seats and a sleek, powerful body.

“You’re
such a cliché,”
I tell him,
getting into the passenger seat and buckling up. I don’t
want to think about what just happened –
or almost
happened.

“Me?”
Xander
laughs.

“The
women, the yacht, the cars… If
they looked up ‘playboy
billionaire’ in
the dictionary, your photo would be right there.”

“My
good side, I hope.” Xander
quips, starting the engine. With a wolfish grin, he throws the car
into drive and whips into traffic.

“Are
you okay?” He
looks over at me – and
away from the road.

“Xander!”
I yelp. I
grab the dash and watch the road, realizing I’ve
been in this situation before. With Dominic.
“You
know, you drive like your brother.”

“Ha!
You’ve
got that backwards. He drives like me. Who do you think taught him?”

He
downshifts and the little car bursts forward. I try to relax, but
that’s
not going to happen. The light turns red just as we cross an
intersection. My heart slams into my throat. “We’re
not in a race here.”

“Sorry.”
He slows
down, barely. “But
what’s
the point in buying a car that can do two hundred if you don’t
let her rip?”

“Rip
some other time,” I
say, as we speed through another intersection. “Seriously,
Xander, slow down!”

“I’m
trying!”

Something
in his voice makes me look over. Xander looks pale, he’s
flooring the brakes but nothing’s
happening.

“Stop
kidding around,” I
tell him, my panic rising.

“I’m
not. Fuck—”

Oh,
God. I spot the light go red before I see a truck barreling straight
for us. For
me
.

I
scream.

Suddenly,
Xander yanks the wheel, putting the car into a spin. My body slams
into the passenger door as the world tilts on its axis. There’s
the sound of impact, shattering glass and groaning metal and screams.

Then
everything goes black.

There’s
a sharp ringing in my ears. I groan, pain throbbing in my ribs. I
can’t
move; it feels like I’m
suspended in space.

What
just happened?

I
open my eyes. The world is upside down: broken glass, and twisted
metal, and some kind of airbag…

Suddenly
it all comes rushing back to me. The red light. The truck—no
brakes!

From
the corner of my eye, I see a flash of denim and blood.

“Oh
God, Xander!”

He’s
crumpled against the seat and the roof, his body folded like he’s
been stuffed there. The airbag blocks my full view, but I spy his arm
outstretched as if he’s
reaching for me. With a cry, I desperately try to reach him. Pain
courses through my neck and shoulders, making it harder to move.

“Xander!”

The
seatbelt is cutting into my chest and belly, blood rushing to my
head. Wave after wave of dizziness assaults me as I scramble for my
seatbelt. Everything seems in slow motion. This is all taking too
long.

Why
can’t
I find the damn belt buckle?

“Xander!”
I scream
again, praying for some kind of response. “Move
your fingers. Xander, please!”

Suddenly,
I find the seatbelt latch. I tuck my head instinctively as I slide
down into a heap inside the tiny
sports car.
I grab at Xander’s
hand, but his fingers don’t
move. My vision is blurry, but I look over him the best I can for
more bleeding—anything.
Then I realize a low, gurgling sound is coming from his lips.

Tiny
pink bubbles form in the corner of his mouth. Oh fuck! He’s
so crumbled up that he probably can’t
breathe.

He’s
going to
stop
breathing
if I don’t
do something.

Tears
roll down my face at the hopelessness of it. How am I going to get him
out without help?

Help.

Why
hasn’t
anyone come to help me?

I
attempt to turn and look out the side window, but a misty fog in the
air and the airbag block my view. That’s
when I hear shouting from outside. Maybe a baby crying? Someone is
banging on the car.

A
phone is ringing.

It
sounds close. I find Xander’s
cell peeking out from beneath him. Grabbing it, I hit the speaker
button.

“Help!”
I cry. I don’t
know who it is, and I don’t
care. “I
need help!”

“Juliet?”

The
tears come harder along with an overwhelming sense of relief.
“Dominic!
Oh God. It’s
Xander, we got hit by a truck. He’s
not moving—“

“Slow
down. Juliet, tell me where you are.”

“I
don’t
know,” I
sob.
“We
were driving back to the office. We can’t
be far.”

“Baby,
hang on. I’m
on my way.”

“There’s
no time!” I
cry. “I
need to get Xander out! I don’t
think he’s
breathing.”

“Jesus!
Can you open a door?”

“I
don’t
know. The car rolled, we’re
upside down.” I
try to open the door on my side. “No,
I can’t
get it open.”

“Just
stay calm,” Dom
orders me.

The
banging on the door beside me gets louder, followed by a muffled
shouting. The smoky haze seems to have gotten worse, along with the
acrid smell of something burning.

“Are
you hurt?” Dominic’s
calm voice pulls me back and I take quick mental stock of myself. My
wrist and head hurt. My back aches and I think I bit my tongue, but
otherwise, I’m
in one piece.

“I’m
okay, I think.”

“Thank
God. See if you can break the window. You need to get out of there.”

I
twist around. The window by me is already cracked. I bring my knees
to my chest, and kick out. It cracks some more. Again. Finally, it
shatters. I kick as much out as I can, and cool air comes rushing in.

“The
window’s
out,” I
tell Dom, panicked. “But
Xander’s
still unconscious.” I
grab his shoulder and try to drag him, but he’s
too heavy. “Dom.”
My voice
breaks. “I
can’t
do this.”

“Yes,
you can,” he
reassures me. I can hear noise in the background on his end of the
call: traffic and sirens. God, I hope he’s
close. “You
can do this, Juliet. Just stay calm.”

I
gulp another lungful of air and try to focus. Xander’s
leg is at a weird angle, trapped under the console. I reach in and
lever it free, hoping to God I’m
not causing more damage. Then I try to grab his shoulders again. This
time, his body moves. I try again, grabbing both shoulders and
pulling him toward me. Pain shoots through my right wrist and up my
arm. I hold back a scream and grit my teeth. With a pull greater than
anything I’ve
ever done, I bring Xander toward me and drag the both of us out of
the car.

“Whoa
there!” Hands
come to help me, more bodies. Passers-by, I guess, but I’m
too relieved to think straight. They help pull Xander free from the
wreckage and lay him out on the ground.

“Is
he breathing?” I
demand, panicked. A guy leans over to check, and then I see it: the
tell-tale rise and fall of Xander’s
chest.

“All-clear,”
the guy nods.

“This
thing’s
burning!” A
cry of warning goes up. “Everybody
get back!”

I’m
so dizzy
I sink to the curb. The car is a mangled twist of metal and glass,
fire licking out from under the hood.

That
could have been us, burning inside. It was close. Too close.

The
last thing I think before passing out is Dom. I need to tell him his
brother is OK.

“Welcome
back,” a
gentle voice says. I blink awake and find an older man in a white
coat wrapping up my wrist. “You’ve
broken your wrist, my dear. This is a temporary cast for the next
three days until the swelling goes down. Then you get the real
thing.”

I
sit bolt upright. “Where’s
Xander?” I
demand, panicked. “Is
he OK?”

Before
he can answer, the door flies open. Dominic bursts in.

“Juliet.
Thank God!”

He
pulls me into a fierce hug.

"Oww!"
I wince.

“I’m
sorry,” Dom
eases his grip a little, but doesn’t
let me go. “God,
I’m
so sorry.”

My
face presses into his neck as he strokes my hair. His muscles relax,
but he’s
still so tense. “I’m
safe now.” I
hold him tightly, never wanting to release him. But I have to know. I
pull back.

“Xander?”

Dom’s
face darkens. “He
has internal bleeding. He’s
in surgery now. That’s
all I know. I could kill him myself for putting you at risk like
that. What was he thinking?”

“He
saved me!” I
protest. “The
truck was heading straight for my side of the car. If Xander hadn’t
spun to get me out of the way…”

I
trail off, horrified by the thought.

Dom’s
expression changes. “I
didn’t
realize. Fuck.” He
takes my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. “They
said he’ll
be alright. In the meantime I’m
getting you a private room, the best possible doctors.”

“She’ll
be able to go home tonight,” the
gray haired doctor says. “You
have a mild concussion, a broken wrist, bruised ribs, and some
scrapes.”

Dom
nods. “Then
I’m
taking you home.”

“But
what about Xander?” I
ask, feeling guilty. “Shouldn’t
we stay?”

The
doctor shakes his head. “His
surgery will last several hours. We’ll
call as soon as we have an update.”

Dom
deals with the paperwork, then takes me home. The other girls aren’t
home yet, so he settles me in bed like I’m
made of glass – which
I’m
feeling right about now. My head still aches, and the pills they gave
me for my wrist are making me woozy.

“Can
you tell me what you remember?” Dom
asks, as he tucks the covers around me. “About
the crash?”

My
mouth feel like an old gym sock has been stuffed inside. It takes a
second to work around it. “He
was going too fast. I told him to slow down. But then, the brakes
didn’t
work. He couldn’t
stop. And then, the truck… He
saved my life.”

Noise
comes from the living room – Callie
and Em arriving home. Dom goes to talk to them, and then I’m
lying on a cloud. Such a happy, cozy, warm little cloud.

These
pain pills aren’t messing around.

Dom
hovers over me with a small, sad smile. Slowly, his lips brush mine
before he claims them completely. It’s
tender and sweet and probably a figment of the narcotics. But it
feels so good; it has to be real.

Dom
pulls away and runs a finger down my cheek. “I’m
going to check on Xander, but I’ll
be back soon.”

I
try to reach for him, to make him stay, but all my strength is gone.
I hear his footsteps leave the room, but his scent and the taste of
his sweet kiss stay.

As
I drift off to sleep, I cling to the hope that he’ll
be back with more.

“Men
are idiots.”
Callie announces the next morning, when I’ve
surfaced from my painkiller haze. I feel raw and bruised, but nothing
hurts too badly, just an ache in my wrist. Mostly, I’m
just shaken up, but the girls are trying their best to distract me
with a schedule of bad reality TV and snacks. “Dominic
is a hot idiot, though,” she
adds.