The Billionaire’s Girlfriend Bet - Leslie North Page 0,17

and a movie…”

“Warmer,” Blake said as he maneuvered out of her driveway, “but ultimately wrong.”

She grinned, settling back into the seat. “See? I have no idea. So you’ll just have to tell me.”

“Also wrong. You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Blake couldn’t fight the smile as he drove through traffic, their banter light and easy. He hadn’t counted on it being so fun to plan this, and keep it a secret from her. It was the sort of thing he’d like to do more often.

Blake chose his favorite downtempo mix from his personal music collection, relishing the smooth electronic beats that filtered out of his high-end speakers. Michelle relaxed even more into her seat, letting a long sigh tumble out of her.

“Feeling good?” he asked.

“This is the best,” she said, looking over at him. “This car. This music. This evening…”

Blake’s ears went hot. It was a suggestive compliment. One he wouldn’t mind hearing again.

“Yeah?” He reached out for her hand, giving it a small squeeze. Her slender hand was cool in his grip, and fit a little too well.

“You know how to woo a woman,” she said, smiling over at him.

A sharp heat burst through him. It was like she was on the same page as him. He held her hand as they drove through the city. She didn’t seem uncomfortable in his grip. And he’d never wanted to keep holding a woman’s hand like this…until now.

So why not run with it?

When they pulled up to the ex-warehouse that held his nightclub in the Soma district, Michelle looked like she was thinking hard.

“Any idea yet?” Blake asked.

Suddenly she clapped her hands together. “Your nightclub!”

He cut the engine and got out, his footsteps scuffing over the concrete sidewalk as he came over to her side, where she had already opened the door.

“You’re supposed to let me be a gentleman,” he reminded her, offering his hand to support her as she slid out of the car.

Michelle giggled. “Sorry. I’m not used to it.”

“Chivalry is dead, huh?” Maybe most guys didn’t care about treating a woman right, but Blake always went out of his way to be chivalrous—just not committed. But Michelle was waking up something extra inside him tonight. The part that wanted to fawn over her. Take care of her. Delight her. For a lot longer than he usually allowed.

He didn’t know where it had come from or why, but it was here.

“Pretty dead, but there might be a revival soon,” Michelle teased. He shut the door behind her and offered his arm as he guided them toward the nightclub. “Like right now.”

“Just wait until you see what’s in store for you tonight,” Blake said.

Michelle cozied up to him as they walked up to the front doors of the nightclub. Blake had sent an assistant to ready the area earlier in the day, so when they unlocked the door and stepped inside the expansive building, the mood lighting was already in place and the air smelled like incense.

“Wow,” Michelle cooed as they stepped inside. The front doors clanged shut behind them. She tipped her head back to look around, mouth parted. “This place is incredible.”

Blake agreed. He’d been focusing the majority of his attention on this new endeavor, trying to bring something modern and fresh to the Soma scene. Even though he was slightly past his night-clubbing prime, he saw the venture for what it was: an evergreen moneymaker that would continually appeal to new generations of nightlifers.

The floor was designed to look like black marble, stretching away from them toward the bar, all along the seated areas hugging the walls, and back to the bathrooms. The bar itself was a mirrored masterpiece, accented with bottle caps and reclaimed shards of glass that coalesced to form something both unique and impossibly cool. Blake could already imagine all the interesting, well-dressed people filling the place. Sexy ladies leaning over the bar to chat with the bartender under the amber light of the sconces. The throbbing basslines from the visiting DJs. The dance floor full of writhing, grooving bodies.

“Do you like it?” Blake asked as they slowly walked through the club, the soft electronic-jazz fusion music he’d chosen earlier playing softly through the speakers. His gaze washed over the eclectic art he’d been deliberating over for a few weeks.

“I think it looks awesome,” Michelle said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Have you been taking care of all the details?”

“I’ve got a great team—interior designers, sound specialists, mixologists, a celebrity chef putting together