Caught Between Two Billionaires - Skye Warren Page 0,24
to me. Tonight.”
He folds the paper carefully in half, and then half again. When he hands it back, it’s almost completely flat. “Do you need money?”
“I have money.” Not the ability to spend it—one of life’s ironies.
He takes a step toward me, and suddenly I’m taking a step back. How did this man go from accommodating to dangerous in one second flat? “Christopher mentioned you.”
My mouth feels dry. I tell myself I don’t care about what Christopher says, that I don’t care what this man thinks of me. “Did he?”
“He made you sound about this high. A child.”
There’s acid in my throat. “Of course.”
“Now that I see you, I think he was holding out on me.” Those blue eyes look at more than just my body; they look inside me, finding the sensitive places—pressing on them, only a little. Enough to make me gasp when his gaze catches mine.
“I’m not a child,” I say, which only serves to make me sound like a child.
“No,” he says, his lips forming the word, almost soundless. “Do you think Christopher is really confused about that? Do you think he sees that mouth and doesn’t imagine all the things he could do to it? Do you think he doesn’t think about you when he comes?”
My cheeks warm. “How dare you.”
He gives me a smile that can only be described as indecent. “Maybe he is that blind.”
I follow his stark blue gaze down to my chest, where my nipples have become hard at the E and the A. Even while my mind denies what this man is saying to me, my body already agrees. Christopher has always treated me like a child, but this man… he knows I’m a woman.
“There can’t be anything between us. I hate your business partner.”
“You think that’s a requirement for being my lover? Come to the gala tonight. Make him suffer all you want, as long as you don’t go home with him at the end of the night.”
Surprise steals my breath, along with an unnerving rush of arousal. It’s pure heat between my legs, the opposite of the ice-cold Christopher leaves me with. Who knew I would find the caveman thing so hot? I blame evolution, an ages-old certainty that this man could protect me from saber-tooth tigers. “You have no right to say that.”
He gives me a half smile that doesn’t quite dispute my words. Not yet, it seems to say instead. A caveman he might be, but he also has a sense of determined patience. Too bad I’ve had my share of men with ambition. Whether they’re brooding and reserved like Christopher or confident and possessive like this one, they have no place in my world.
“I’ve heard the strangest rumor,” says the familiar voice over the phone, “that my best friend is in the city. I said there’s no way because she didn’t tell me she was visiting.”
I stare up at the crystal and gold chandelier that hangs above me, set in a thick crown molding. I’m staying at L’Etoile, a boutique hotel in downtown. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it’s complicated.”
“So it’s about your stepbrother.”
“You didn’t tell me he moved to Tanglewood.”
She’s quiet a moment, and I know the accusation came out in my voice too strong. “I wasn’t sure he’d stick around, but Harper… he’s going to be in your life. There’s no escaping that, at least until you turn twenty-five.”
“And not a second too soon.” I’ve mostly managed to avoid the trust fund altogether, besides the payments to Smith College, which were sent automatically.
It’s obscene the amount of money sitting in a bank account under my name. It’s only gotten bigger under Christopher’s careful stewardship, his investments making me one of the richest women in the country. The man knows how to turn money into more money, that’s for sure. The Midas touch. I could buy a castle on every continent if I wanted one, but I can’t even write a check to charity.
The biggest upside to graduating this past spring was never having to touch the trust fund again. Until the credit card bill was an exception to the rule. A time when I had actually needed the trust fund and the ridiculous amount of money inside it.
Naturally, that means I couldn’t have it.
“I’m at the Emerald,” she says, referring to the gorgeous old hotel that Gabriel Miller bought her near Smith College while she goes to grad school. “But you can still stay at our place. I can call the