Billion Dollar Love

by Sam Crescent

  He gave her a small smile. “I thought we could use some air.”

  And she did. As enjoyable as the party had been, at least for the most part, Elodie needed a break from all the people.

  Like the rest of the house, the garden was magnificent. As was the glittering aquamarine pool. Every part of the grounds was decorated with neatly manicured bushes sparkling with tiny white lights just like the ones on the path leading up to the house. The illumination that came from them was just enough to delineate the maze-like paths.

  Apparently, several others had a similar idea. So much for finding some solitude.

  Caesario didn’t seem happy about it either and muttered something under his breath as he doggedly forged a path through the estate. It seemed everywhere they turned there were people, however. The frustration thrumming through him would have been clear in the set of his jaw and tense line of his wide shoulders even if she couldn’t feel it through their connected hands.

  Finally, he slowed and helped her sit on a stone bench overlooking the lake. In the velvet darkness, Lake Como was inky water cradled in the silhouette of the mountains in the distance under a deep navy sky. The lamps that lined the path there warmed the night with their golden glow adding to the surreal atmosphere.

  And the air … it was so fresh. She took several lungs full, breathing deeply, enjoying the moment. It wouldn’t be long before she was back in the city, wishing she had taken more time to enjoy the refreshing atmosphere.

  But, even there, there were people milling about, chatting quietly. Some doing even more. Elodie was still mildly mortified by their exhibition by the food. She couldn’t even contemplate being caught in a heated clinch as demonstrated by a couple by a topiary, though their audience here would be far smaller.

  “A bite?”

  Elodie found Caesario holding a morsel pinched between his fingers in front of her lip.

  When she hesitated, he lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you were hungry?”

  She was. But, “It might be better for me to feed myself.”

  He looked stunned. “Why? No one is paying attention to us.”

  “Are you kidding me? Everyone is watching us. Listening to us. Everywhere we go.” She nodded at the couple kissing. “Except for them, of course.”

  Caesario gave the couple a grin before turning up the wattage when he returned his gaze to her. “I think we should take a page out of their book and not care who’s watching.”

  He would. Elodie shook her head, but she didn’t get the chance to say anything when an all too familiar voice pierced the quiet.

  “Caesario! I didn’t expect you to be out here!” The redhead had found them, and this time she wasn’t alone. All but hanging off the man at her side, she dragged him toward Elodie and Caesario.

  Elodie fought back a sigh at the smirk on the other woman’s face. The games were exhausting, and from the looks of things, they’d hardly begun. Did she really want to be a part of a world where people toyed with others’ affections?

  “Apologies for intruding. We were just looking for a quiet spot.” The man was tall, broad, and burnished blond and didn’t pay any attention to the woman clinging to him. His focus glided from Elodie to Caesario.

  Ignoring the redhead, Caesario stood, to extend his hand to the other man. “Marc du Champs. I’ve heard a lot about you. Your vineyards are spectacular. As are your wines. Though, I dare say, Italian vintages are still superior, it’s nice to see you trying to catch up.”

  The bold statement brought a laugh from the other man as he took the proffered hand and shook it. “And, Caesario Altaviti, you’re as impudent as they say.”

  Caesario helped Elodie to her feet, returning his arm to her waist. “This is Elodie.”

  He took her hand and smiled. “Enchanté.”

  “A pleasure.”

  Elodie’s stomach unknotted a little as the men discussed wines as if they were old friends, pausing here and there to explain terminology or describe a process to her. Meanwhile the other woman’s face was turning the same color as her hair at being completely side-lined by them. It got to the point where Elodie found herself wondering if she would pop like an over-hot thermometer.

  Just as she looked like she was going to scream, the redhead grabbed Elodie’s arm and dragged her aside. “I suppose you think you’re smart, ingratiating yourself on the duchessa as you have. But it won’t work. Caesario’s mine. He’d never have more than a fling with a nobody like you. Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’ve never seen you at the parties and events that he attends. You’ve only been invited to this one because you got your claws into the duchess somehow. Goodness knows it’s not because of your talent.” She smirked mockingly at Elodie’s dress. “End the delusion before you make a bigger fool of yourself. Take the hint.”

  Elodie fought to keep calm. “Did it ever occur to you that there could be women who might not like parties? That don’t need to flaunt themselves at every chance to fulfill some void in their life or boost their ego? And perhaps those are the types of women Caesario prefers?” Elodie raked a scornful glance over her, almost enjoying the way the woman puffed up indignantly. “I’m willing to wager that every man you have set your sights on has run a mile to get away. Am I right?”

  “Men covet women like me. Just as Caesario does.”

  “Now who’s being delusional? It’s very simple. Caesario is a man who knows what he desires. If he wanted you, he’d be with you. Take the hint.” Elodie used her own words against her. “He doesn’t want you.”

  The redhead lashed out. Her palm connected with Elodie’s cheek with a crack. “You don’t belong here. It doesn’t matter what you wear or who you get to befriend you. Someone like you will always stand out as a poor little outsider digging for gold the only way you can.”

  A voice cut in before Elodie could break through the stunned haze and retaliate.

  “I think it’s time you left, Clarice.”

  The redhead nearly jumped out of her own skin when Caesario coldly addressed her. But Clarice wasn’t about to go without a fight. Her lips turned downward in a perfect pout and her eyes were wide, glistening with unshed tears. “Did you hear what she said to me?” She pointed at Elodie with a trembling finger, her bottom lip wobbling right along with it.

  “I did. And I also heard what you said—and saw what you did—to Elodie. All I can say, is you’re wrong. I don’t belong to you, and I never will. We had one miserable date nearly two years ago, and it was more than enough to show me who you are. And you will never be what I want. As for Elodie.” He gathered her in his arms and ran a tender finger over the angry red mark growing on her cheek before he lifted his gaze to glower at the woman. “You should be so lucky to have anyone even think you’re as half as kind, beautiful, and talented as she.” He looked Clarice up and down as if she were the filthiest thing he’d ever seen. “Now leave before you embarrass yourself any further. And never come near either of us again or I’ll get the authorities involved and have you charged for stalking.”

  The tears and the trembling ceased almost immediately as her spine straightened and her jaw jutted forward. “Your loss.”

  Elodie watched Clarice’s departing back and shook her head, still taken aback at what had just happened. Not so much about the circumstances, but that it actually occurred. She’d been outed and treated as the interloper she was. Elodie didn’t imagine it would be so brutal and so public.

  The people milling around still stared at them as if they hadn’t been able to believe what they’d just witnessed. Or maybe they were staring at the woman who dared to imagine she could be one of them. Elodie looked around for Marc, expecting him to be riveted as well, but he had long since disappeared from the ugly scene. At least that left her with one less thing to worry about.

  She clenched her hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking as she lifted them to push Caesario back. “Please, excuse me.”

  Chapter Four

 
Her wobbly retreat to the nearest washroom was a blur. Not because of tears, but because of the poisonous mix of rage and humiliation. How could she possibly think she could fit in this world? That she wanted to be a part of a society where people were so vicious and cruel to anyone they thought beneath them.

  Elodie locked herself in a bathroom that was nearly half the size of her entire apartment and gripped the marble sink to keep herself steady.

  She’d embarrassed herself and by extension Caesario and Ana. What could she do now, but leave? It was clear the people in this world wouldn’t accept her. No more than she could make herself fit in.

  She ran her hands over the satin of her dress and scowled at herself in the mirror.

  Idiot.

  She could dress herself up in the world’s finest couture and wear enough diamonds to sparkle like a star, but under it all was still a girl who grew up in a tiny village, ill-equipped to deal with women like Clarice.

  “Breathe.”

  Elodie’s knees nearly gave out at Caesario’s voice.

  She pulled herself together enough to glare at him in the mirror. “I locked the door for a reason.”

  He pushed the door closed behind him with a click. “I needed to make sure you’re okay.”

  Ignoring her protests, Caesario spun her around then lifted his hands to cup her cheeks gently, turning her so he could get a look at the darkening bruise. He growled. “I shouldn’t have let her go so easily.”

  “And what? Make an even bigger scene?”

  There was a whisper of his lips over the bruise before he leaned in to murmur. “Haven’t you learned yet? I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”

  “But I don’t … I’m not…” His touch was messing with her equilibrium. Caesario didn’t seem to give a damn and was even using it to his advantage. “I don’t belong…”

  “You are perfect. And you belong with me. Here. Wherever. Always.” He nuzzled her neck before dragging his lips over the delicate skin to capture her mouth and stop any further protest.

  Heart clattering in her chest at his words, Elodie gave herself up to the kiss, letting Caesario claim her mouth as she gripped him tighter. Needing everything. Wanting to give him everything. She nipped his bottom lip, earning her a growl as he started tugging aside clothing as if he couldn’t stand another moment being unable to touch her.

  Caesario tunneled a hand past the folds of her dress to slip between her thighs. The soaked scrap of lace there proved to be no challenge for his clever fingers. Finding her so wet pleased him if the appreciative groan from him was anything to go by.

  Not that she had a chance to dissect what she’d heard.

  His stroke was light, teasing, just enough to drive her slowly crazy. “You’ve been driving me mad all night, Elodie.” He inhaled the scent of her arousal as it permeated the air and smiled. “I take it you’ve felt the same way. I bet you’ve been slick and aching for hours. Wanting me. Needing what only I can give you.”

  She had. From the moment she’d locked gazes with him, Elodie had been fighting the attraction. Not because she didn’t want to feel it, but because they were in the middle of a party. A consideration that was growing less and less of a concern as he slipped his fingers over her pussy.

  In a silent plea for more, she arched into his touch, seeking more friction.

  “Impatient, are we?” He chuckled. And though his touch remained light there was a determined glint in his eyes. The tightening of his jaw and the slight tremble in his fingers were the only things betraying just how tightly he had to hold onto his control to keep up the sensual torture.

  “Does it make you happy to know that I’ve been slowly losing control just looking at your pouty lips as you spoke?” His gaze drifted down her chest. “Speaking of pouty, what about your nipples? They’ve begging me to touch them, to taste them, through the satin.” He pinched one now, sending bolt of heat straight to her clit.” Caesario lowered his head to nuzzle the delicate skin just under her ear. “And the scent of you. There is nothing like it. Nothing as tempting or as intoxicating.” Elodie nearly screamed with frustration when he lifted the hand he had been using to tease her folds so she could see his glistening fingers. “Except maybe this.” Holding her gaze he took a lungful of the scent before darting a tongue out to taste. His hum of appreciation rumbled through her. “So sweet. Taste yourself. Find out for yourself how delicious you are.”

  As if in a trance, Elodie did as she was told and tasted herself on his fingers. He did the same so their tongues touched and blended the flavors with his own. Her head reeling, she clamored for more, but his hand was gone. The disappointed whimper from her was soon replaced with moans as he kissed her now, devouring her as if she was the only thing in the world that would sustain him. His hand had delved back between her legs and was moving with purpose.

  He parted her folds and pushed in two strong fingers to crook against a spot inside her that left her weak in the knees and keening into his mouth. With the added brush of his thumb against her clit, Elodie couldn’t fight it any longer.

  Pleasure ignited like a bomb in her lower belly. Shockwaves of delight assailed her as she bucked against his hand. He continued to draw out the sensations until Elodie was sure she was going to pass out.

  Or come again.

  His pulled away abruptly. Caesario lifted his head to stare at her as if she was something ethereal and was afraid would disappear.

  As his gaze swept over her dazed, lethargic, post-orgasm body, he swore viciously in Italian as his control snapped. Caesario went to work, tearing at his own clothes, his need to be inside her overwhelming him at last. Elodie was only too happy to help, eager to feel him deep within her.

  It was only due to a soft knock on the door that they stopped from stripping each other bare giving into the urge right then and there.

  He swore again, under his breath this time as he struggled to rein himself in. “I can’t believe that I almost took you here, in the bathroom. With people just outside the door.” Caesario raked his unsteady hands through his short hair leaving it wild and untamed. Like the look he was giving her.

  Elodie did her best to straighten her clothing, but there was little hope of leaving the room with her dignity intact. There was no way anyone looking at them wouldn’t know what they’d been doing.

  Not that Caesario seemed to care. He took one look at her and fire leapt between them. He muttered something again as he swept her up in his arms and stalked past whoever had knocked on the door.

  Elodie caught the shocked feminine gasp and shoved at Caesario’s shoulders, but he wouldn’t loosen his hold of her. “Caesario!”

  He continued his trek, giving her a look that told her just how close to the edge he was. “Either we go upstairs or we go back to the bathroom—hell, I’m willing to find a dark corner somewhere—but I’m having you. Now.”

  Knowing he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, Elodie couldn’t find the will to argue. Instead, she buried her face in his neck, hiding from what were sure to be knowing glances as he carried her up the stairs.

  In a flash, there was a click of a door closing, the softness of a bed against her back. Then his hands were pushing aside satin as they traveled up her legs, his intent very clear. Where Caesario’s hands met resistance, he tugged and tore, with single-minded determination, until she was bare under his gaze.

  “Bellissima.” Caesario didn’t take his eyes off her as he pulled his own clothing off, tossing them away with the same careless disregard he’d done with hers.

  He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop staring. Caesario was a beautiful man. In a suit, he cut an awesome figure. Naked, he was magnificent. He could have been the inspiration behind classical sculptures of the male figure. Perfection was the only way to describe him. Elodie bit her bottom lip as she let her eyes wander over his body. Solidly built, he wasn’t muscular in a bulky way, but there was no denying his masculinity. Especially the long, thick erection holdi
ng her attention.

  He gripped it in his hand and pumped it slowly, a mesmerizing stroke up and down the length of him. “Like what you see?”

  How could she not? Huge and veined, it was glistening at the tip as if excited by the sight of her. She licked her lips in barely conscious mimicry of what she wanted to do to it. The scent of him, slightly musky and wholly tantalizing, teased Elodie, making her mouth water. She wanted a taste.

  “Wanting to feel it in your hands?” His eyes darkened as he asked, “Inside you?”

  Absolutely. And getting quite impatient to. Elodie writhed on the bed, seeking sensation from wherever she could get it as she stared up at him.

  Instead of giving into her silent demands, Caesario knelt over the edge of the bed. Gently holding one foot, he grazed the arch of it with his tongue, earning a squeal from Elodie.

  He lifted his gaze to her as his hands had started to rove up her legs. “I intend to touch, taste, and make every part of you mine tonight, Elodie. If it’s not what you want, tell me now.”

  She chuckled, at least as much as her tight throat would allow. She was so wound up her entire being was coiled tight. “I don’t think I’d be flat on my back and naked if I didn’t want this here and now.”

  The smirk he gave her was slightly strained as if he was struggling for control as she was. And yet, he didn’t pounce as she’d hoped he would.

  Apparently, Caesario was determined to make her mind melt and her body squirm. Tugging her by her ankles, he dragged her to the edge of the bed. The perfect height to meet her pussy with his mouth.

  She barely got the chance to register his breath and the scrape of his chin against the delicate skin of her thigh before he settled the wet heat of his mouth on her.

  The shock of sensation had her body reacting instinctively, arching under him, seeking for more, and at the same time, trying to get away from the sensual onslaught. Caesario pulled her back to spread her thighs wider for him as he laved her folds with long strokes of his tongue. He murmured appreciatively as he plunged deeper, as if he was unable to get enough of her taste.