Only A Night With A Billionaire (Only Us Billionaire Romance Book 2)

by Ellie Hall

  Someone’s phone jingled with a ringtone that sounded like shattering glass. Genevieve pulled out her bling-covered case and answered in her shrill voice.

  Colette raised her hand shyly. “I vote for Hyde Park. The roses are just starting to bloom.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Oliver said. He turned to the other women.

  Genevieve ended her call. “I say we go see the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London so Penelope will see what she’ll be missing.” Her lip curled up into a half smile.

  Penelope toed the ground with her boot.

  Oliver bristled at the rude comment. He expected more from a royal-in-waiting than a sour attitude. Then again, he was dealing with Genevieve and she’d had a nasty streak for as long as he could remember. Once, at a dinner, she made the footman warm her soup then cool her soup, repeating the process three times before deciding not to eat it. Another time, she slept in and kept the royal escorts waiting for hours. “Considering the Crown Jewels belong to this country and we’ll be going to Concordia, which has its own crowns and jewels, that remains to be seen.”

  Penelope seemed to smile with gratitude but her gaze was cast into the distance as though something made her sad or mad or something. He couldn’t tell. Perhaps she was thinking of her mother.

  “Odelia, Penelope? Anywhere you’re eager to go?”

  “I don’t have any preference, Oliver. You pick,” Odelia purred as she edged closer.

  He turned to Penelope, eagerly awaiting her answer.

  “Can I get back to you? I have to think about it.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.” He had no doubt she’d come up with something unique.

  They set out, first visiting the Tower of London, which they hastily arranged to be closed for the two-hour time period, instantly drawing the curiosity of tourists. Fortunately, Winston kept things under control when Genevieve wanted to take the jewels out of the cases. She and Odelia gushed over all of the shiny things.

  While they toured the museum, he made a point to chat with each of the royals-in-waiting. Colette was quiet and simply nodded and smiled when he spoke to her. Genevieve hijacked him when she asked him to wait outside the ladies’ room while she powdered her nose, but when she didn’t come out for twenty minutes, he sent Odelia in to check on her and took the opportunity to break away.

  Penelope admired some of the simpler, yet no less regal, items on display. He found his gaze gravitating toward her, wondering what she was thinking, wanting to talk to her but unsure what to say, ignore Genevieve. I’d love to see you in a crown. Or, let's sneak off and be spontaneous.

  Instead, she spoke first. “I thought the outing today would just be the two of us.” Her tone was lower, more like she was annoyed.

  He shook his head. “Sadly, no. If you’d all opted to visit the Tower of London for instance, they might not like having to shut down for an entire day. Not even for a prince. Plus, the queen wants to be sure everyone plays nice in a group,” he said honestly.

  Penelope eyed the bathroom at the same time Winston signaled with a bell it was time to leave if they were to stay on schedule.

  “I like to set my clock according to my appetite,” Penelope said as everyone gathered.

  “Obviously,” Genevieve said, looking Penelope up and down.

  She straightened, but while Genevieve was tall and slender, actually bony and overly angular, Penelope was, well, perfect, at least in his opinion, but he had a no-royals rule and wouldn’t let himself ponder it.

  “Is there a restaurant or bakery you’d like to visit?” Oliver asked.

  “Still thinking,” she answered.

  At Hyde Park, the royal guards took point to ensure the group's safety while they walked among the gardens. The flowers weren’t in full bloom, but the shoots and buds indicated that winter had past and spring was around the corner. At least in London. Concordia was another story; farther north and known for its white skies in winter and blue skies in summer, there would still be snow that season.

  “Ladies, what are your thoughts on winter weather?” Oliver asked, not intending it for small talk, but because he was genuinely interested in their answers.

  “I wouldn’t have left Mallorca if it weren’t for this little event,” Genevieve said.

  “I do not like ice and snow unless it’s your preference, Prince,” Odelia added.

  Colette shrugged.

  Penelope gazed at the sky, “I enjoy the seasons. Each one brings something new but not entirely unexpected. Don’t get me wrong, winter in Manhattan can be rough with slushy streets and the wind, but it’s also a time to be cozy indoors.”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes at the comment.

  Oliver found his lips lifting into a smile as he envisioned them in front of a fire, like the night before—minus the stiff chairs. He warmed all over despite the brisk day

  “Sounds boring,” Genevieve said. “Give me the beach. I like to be warm without having to bundle up if you know what I mean.” She inched closer to him, bringing back the chill.

  Winston arranged for a picnic lunch and then the group returned to the SUV with a ring of his bell.

  Seated beside him, Penelope shifted away but not before he caught her scent. She smelled of spring, of flowers, familiar and fresh. He breathed deep and had the thought that he wanted to be closer to her.

  Winston rang the bell again, startling him even though he was used to its ring.

  Penelope cleared her throat. “I was going to say that Winston there is pretty keen on that bell. I feel like I’m in school. I don’t think I could tolerate such punctuality. I like to come and go as I please.” The words sounded breezy yet somehow forced like she was trying to be as difficult and disagreeable as Genevieve.

  “If you think so, you should've met my nanny,” Oliver joked to lighten the mood.

  Penelope smirked and then followed up with a frown.

  “There I go, sounding like a snob.”

  “Not really. What’s wrong with being a snob?” She snorted and her eyes flitted to Genevieve.

  Was she being sarcastic? Insulting? He couldn’t tell. So far that day, at times she seemed like she did the day before and at others, overly irritable and like she was trying to be rude.

  “You wouldn't because you had a nanny too. Well, I had three, but we shouldn't try to compete about who had the most nannies.”

  She laughed as though despite herself. The sound was better than a carol of bells, not signaling a schedule but the joy conveyed through music.

  “Although, I do have you beat. Winston is my manny,” Oliver said.

  She tossed her head back, hysterical and Oliver found himself laughing openly too.

  “Man nanny,” she managed to say.

  But the others were silent, disapproving, and Oliver quickly quieted down with a cough into his hand to mask the laughter.

  Penelope looked around. “What? You don’t think that’s funny? No offense, Winston, Sir.” She smiled, trying to suppress another round of laughter.

  As the driver maneuvered through the streets, Oliver said, “We still have the afternoon ahead of us—”

  “I vote we go to the Postal Museum, the Transport Museum, the Maritime Museum…” Winston suggested.

  “I’d rather watch paint dry,” Penelope said. Her cheeks blistered red as though she had second thoughts about the brazen comment.

  A few awkward minutes passed before Penelope stretched across the seat to the window. “There,” she exclaimed, interrupting the would-be disagreement. “Winston, ring your bell. I’d like to stop here.”

  Everyone peered out the window. A dingy pub, a couple of shops, and a closed bookstore lined the street. A few people milled around.

  “Puppies!” Penelope exclaimed.

  They’d nearly driven past, but a tent was set up with a sign that said Wags and Purrs Animal Adoption. It was a pop-up site to raise awareness about animal welfare.

  “Here we are, touring the city in a fancy SUV when there are so man
y who’re less fortunate. People and dogs. Let’s see how we can help.” She leaped out of the vehicle and rushed up to the woman behind the table.

  Minutes later, she introduced the group to Jennifer—she quickly thanked a woman named Charlotte before she and her daughter rushed off with an older dog in tow.

  Jennifer gave them a quick rundown of what they did to help animals. “Our weekend pop-ups are mostly to raise awareness, but the shelter is only a few blocks away. I’m packing up if you’d like to head back with me. We can always use help. Walking and playing with the animals is important but so is feeding, cleaning, and there are some administrative tasks that are good if you don’t want to get your hands dirty.” She eyed Genevieve whose nose scrunched like she smelled something foul.

  Within fifteen minutes, the entire group descended upon the shelter, which was closing for the afternoon. Odelia sat with a few small dogs outside in an enclosed pen, Colette stroked a cat, and Genevieve hovered by the desk with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

  “Well, I guess that leaves me to help clean up after the animals,” Penelope said.

  “It’s dirty work, but we’re understaffed and I appreciate any help I can get. The animals do too. The good news is—” She went on to highlight how many dogs and cats they’d matched with forever homes, raising awareness about neutering and spaying, and working with a retirement home to bring animal companions to the residents on weekday afternoons.

  Meanwhile, Penelope listened intently while scooping poop. From across the room, Oliver washed a few windows smeared with paw and nose prints.

  Genevieve called him over, engaging him in a long story about the heir to one of the largest estates in the English countryside and his yacht.

  He tried to break in and excuse himself so he could get back to work, but she had him cornered, plowing on about how things were organized at her estate with suggestions for improving things at the palace. “I think there should be at least a few shopping boutiques, a jewelry store. I mean, who can be bothered with leaving every day?”

  He glanced over his shoulder a few times, but Penelope was hard at work.

  Genevieve said, “You seem preoccupied. Surely, you know all about Penelope and her wild ways. I certainly wouldn’t want the queen to think you condone her behavior.”

  Penelope breezed by, possibly overhearing the exchange and if not that, it appeared as if he and Genevieve were having an intimate conversation. As she fed a dog a treat, she glared at the pair.

  At last, Winston rang his bell, signaling it was time to return to the palace.

  Jennifer thanked them all for their help.

  “I’d like to do more,” Penelope said. “The animals need our help.”

  Genevieve plucked a cat hair from her jacket. “Penelope, I think you’ve done quite enough. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get this smell out of my clothes. Guess I’ll have to throw them away.”

  “There’s a shelter down the street collecting worn items.” Jennifer pointed toward the street.

  Genevieve scoffed. “I think all this dander has gone to your head, lady. My jacket won’t fit a dog.”

  “It’s a shelter for humans,” Jennifer replied. “They accept gently worn items.”

  “Whatever. I can’t be bothered. When I’m queen, I’ll be doing things differently. I certainly won’t take trips to a dog shelter of all places or a human one either—”

  Winston rang his bell again before things got heated.

  “Thank you for your time,” Jennifer said with a discrete roll of the eyes at Genevieve’s comments.

  “I’ll be in touch soon because I’d like to make more of an impact,” Penelope said. “The work you do here is amazing.”

  As they were leaving, Penelope told them about her friends Clara and Emma who both worked closely with charities for dogs. “If I had my way, I’d make big contributions to the cause.”

  Oliver was smitten by her kindness, her heart. But he wouldn’t let himself get too close. It carried too big a risk because Queen Beatriz was unlikely to pick her.

  “Considering the fact that you won’t have your way, the dogs will have to find another patron,” Genevieve hissed. “I, for one, could not be bothered with the mongrels.”

  Penelope leaned back in the seat as though defeated.

  Oliver wanted to say something but sensed Penelope was upset with him or perhaps she wasn’t interested in him after getting a glimpse of the life among nobility that she’d rejected.

  Chapter 7

  Penny

  What had the potential to be a nice day was overshadowed by Penny’s failed attempts at pushing Oliver way, leaving her feeling foolish and childish.

  Genevieve didn’t help matters either. Her attempts at embarrassing Penny were obvious and hurtful.

  While they were at the dog shelter, she had a realization. Oliver, despite how handsome and kind he seemed, was born into a world of splendor and privilege. It wouldn’t be out of the question for him not to care about animal welfare or even human welfare for that matter. He lived his perfect little life cloistered in the palace with everything he could possibly want at the ring of a bell.

  Yet, she couldn’t deny she was drawn to him and if his lack of compassion for people and animals less fortunate than himself was due to his upbringing and ignorance, couldn’t she help change that?

  She passed through the hall, lined with antique rugs from the east, gold leaf shining on the arched ceiling, and softly glowing sconces. She reviewed the day, going over what she could have and should have said to Genevieve and Oliver, even.

  As she turned a corner, hushed voices came from an alcove ahead of her then as she neared Genevieve disappeared into a room. Her voice rose and fell behind the door. She referred to the prince and then used some not-so-friendly words to describe how he was a pushover.

  Penny stopped and against her better judgment, listened in. She leaned close to the door, careful not to let her shadow cross the threshold.

  “He’s from the second most wealthy family in the world. Do you know what that means?” She paused. “The line of succession means I’d have access—No, of course not.” She paused again and Penny tried to put the pieces of the conversation together. Genevieve was quiet for a moment and Penny decided she’d heard enough and didn’t want to get caught. The royal-in-waiting already had it in for Princess Penelope and by extension, the real Penny.

  Just then, Genevieve let out a sound of frustration from inside the room then said, “Do you understand how difficult it is to remain relevant when my father lost our fortune to gambling in Monte Carlo? If I lose my title because of his inability to play the odds or do simple math or stay away from the baccarat table there will be more than a hefty debt to pay.” She paused then said, “No, of course not. You and I are meant to be together. This is just a temporary inconvenience. Anyway, listen to me. I found the loophole in the rules...” It sounded then like she read a long passage of legalese. “Of course, you don’t understand what it means. I’ll spell it out. It means the prince and I can live apart. In separate countries but I will still have access to his money.” She paused and said, “Bingo and all the money will come to me.”

  For the next hour, Penny struggled with what sounded like Genevieve’s attempt to deceive Prince Oliver. But it was none of her business because she was no better—she pretended to be Princess Penelope.

  However, instead of going to tell the prince the story, she pulled out her phone to do research. She needed an affordable hotel and would go from there, finding a rental and returning to her apprenticeship. Since the master baker had been sick, she reasoned she’d be able to talk her way out of her own absence and earn her way into the good graces of Esther Newman, the coordinator for employment, positions, and stations at the palace. No one else there would be the wiser since most likely, the bakers stayed in the kitchen and she wouldn’t come across the royals again.

  Penny found a hotel that had availability and seemed promising.
She took out her credit card, ready to reserve it for the night when Addie entered. She inquired about the day. Penny didn’t feel like elaborating and was preoccupied with not losing the potential reservation, but Addie was chipper and interested. If Penny had learned anything during her stay among the royals it was to be polite, Genevieve notwithstanding.

  “What will you wear to dinner this evening?” Addie continued, “It’s with the queen so something stylish, but conservative. You want her to see you know what’s appropriate to wear and when.”

  “But the truth is I don’t.” And she knew she shouldn’t go on with the charade.

  “Oliver will be there too so you also want to catch his eye.”

  Despite trying to push him away earlier that day, she had caught his eye, numerous times. The way he looked at her sent bumps pebbling across her skin. She blamed it on the cold London day, but there they were again, just from thinking about him. A fluttering of wings lifted in her stomach and she fought to suppress a smile.

  “You should know, dinner tonight is another group experience. Of course, the queen will want to hear a recount of your day.”

  She couldn’t stand up the queen and tell her she’d been mistaken about her own niece. She couldn’t face it—especially not in front of Genevieve.

  With Addie’s help, Penny selected a dark blue wrap dress for dinner.

  “It looks nice on you, but let’s choose something sparkly to pair with it,” Addie suggested, stepping into the enormous closet.

  In the center was a table with a glass top. Underneath, a selection of jewelry, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets shone under the chandelier light.

  Like a magpie drawn to all things shiny, Penny’s eyes flitted from diamonds to rubies to emeralds to silver, gold, and platinum. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “It’s all on loan, of course.”

  “Of course,” Penny repeated. A necklace with a gold knot drew her attention.

  “According to the queen, that was your mother’s.”