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

by Ellie Hall

  Genevieve rushed out of the room and Penny resisted following her.

  The prince gripped her hand as if he sensed her intentions, but his eyes swept over her and she couldn’t deny the way he charmed her and made heat creep up her neck. He lifted their hands and drew her toward him for a celebratory dance.

  The clapping and cheering eddied through the room and it started to spin.

  Penny’s breath came short like she sipped through a straw. The lights dimmed or so it seemed. She felt like she floated but not in a good way. She gripped Oliver’s hand and whispered, “Don’t let me go.”

  Then, once again, Penny swooned, but this time Oliver caught her in his arms and his face was the last thing he saw before the world went fuzzy, then black.

  Chapter 14

  Oliver

  “Penelope, Penelope,” Oliver repeated. Someone brought a chair and he tried to lower her into it but her dress was too big so he held her there.

  A medic swooped in and assured everyone she was still alive.

  “At least you caught her and she didn’t hit her head,” someone from the crowd said.

  “Penelope, wake up,” Oliver pleaded.

  Her eyelashes fluttered and relief washed through him.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He wasn’t sure if she was okay.

  “This happened once before; when she arrived,” Colette said, holding one of Penelope’s hands.

  “Maybe she has a condition.”

  “She swooned,” Ava piped. “The queen-to-be has a solid case of the swoons. I heard about her grand entrance to the throne room.” She smirked. “I’ve also seen the way she looks at you, brother,” she whispered in Oliver’s ear.

  An older noble, wearing a crimson gown, said, “Is she wearing a corset? Perhaps it’s too tight. I’ve fainted a fair share from those dreadful things.”

  “It was a stress-filled day maybe she didn’t eat or drink enough.”

  Penelope’s lips parted and she let out a little moan.

  “She’s coming to. Everyone give her some space.”

  Several footmen appeared carrying an upholstered lounge chair. Oliver carefully set Penelope upon it, but knelt by her side, holding both of her hands. Someone brought water and a tray of food.

  “I could use some of that,” Genevieve sniped, grabbing a plate with some fruit on it. “It has been a difficult day, but no one has to go and pass out over it.” She huffed.

  Ava leaned in. “Remember what I said that I discovered on my travels, Genevieve.”

  “It sounds like you’re threatening me,” she replied, popping a raspberry in her mouth.

  Ava nodded. “Pretty much. No one messes with my family and Penelope is now family.”

  “Does that work retroactively because whatever she told you was merely a little sporting fun. She’s just a sore loser.”

  Ava’s lips formed a hard line. “Darling, sadly, it’s you who’s lost.” She grabbed the plate from her hand. “Your family’s wealth, your shot at the throne, and if you’re not careful, your title.” She turned to where Oliver and the medic continued to try to rouse Penelope.

  “Baking,” she croaked and blinked her eyes. “Baking before boys.”

  “What?” a woman asked. “What did she say?”

  “Something about baking,” a member of the nobility answered.

  “See, I told you she was hungry.”

  Penelope’s eyes blinked open as Oliver continued to hold her hand, hovering over her, desperate to make sure she was okay.

  She bolted up but her eyes didn’t quite focus and Oliver eased her back onto the lounge chair.

  The medic said, “Take it easy. You took a spell. Breathe deep now, that’s it.” He listened to her breath with a stethoscope and checked her pulse.

  Ava passed her the plate of fruit but she held up a hand.

  “Thank you and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Just like Penelope to pull a stunt. Now, no one will forget this night,” Genevieve griped.

  “It wasn’t a stunt. it’s just that I don’t belong here.” Her voice was thin, frail.

  “Nonsense. Of course, you do. It’s been a long few days and you’re not accustomed to this lifestyle anymore.” Oliver couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

  “Exactly, I’m not. I’m—”

  “She said it herself. She doesn’t belong here. Let’s send her on her merry way, back to the prairies and horses or whatever,” Genevieve grumbled.

  Ava rounded on Genevieve. “I haven’t had a proper chance to get to know Penelope but I do know you.” Ava’s stabbed a finger in the air. “I’ve heard quite enough from you and I’ve only just returned to the palace. All you’ve done is criticize the selected royal-in-waiting, among other things, I’ve heard. You’re a privileged diva, and—”

  The queen glided over. “That’s quite enough, dear.” She patted Ava’s hand. “Let me handle this. Genevieve, I gave you grace and held my tongue regarding your behavior, thinking perhaps the competition, as it were, had gone to your head. It’s become abundantly apparent that your attitude does not befit that of a queen-to-be. I intended to keep this private but seeing as you’ve done nothing to endear or redeem yourself while a guest in the palace, and in fact have caused a significant amount of trouble, I bid you adieu. You may pack your bags and return to your estate, where, as you’ve been kind enough to repeatedly point out, you do things better.”

  Everyone in attendance at the ball was too polite to clap, but Oliver wanted to. Within earshot, someone said, “Rumor has it her family is in a tight spot financially.”

  Another said, “The duke has deceived several creditors, pilfered from the royal coffers, and ran off to Morocco after losing his hat in Monaco.”

  A third added, “I hear they stand to lose everything, including their titles.”

  They all shook their heads as Genevieve was escorted out. She called over her shoulder, “This kind of outrageousness would not be tolerated at my estate.”

  By then, Penelope was on her feet. “I apologize for causing a stir. But I really should—” Her expression was pained and her eyes pinched.

  “You should really celebrate this wonderful moment,” Ava said. “Welcome, to the family.”

  Polite clapping resounded and Penelope looked around, looking pale and worried. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

  “It’s getting late, perhaps you’d prefer to lay down and get some rest,” the queen said, excusing her.

  “I’ll walk her to her room,” Oliver offered.

  With his hand on her low back, Oliver guided Penelope through the crowd who smiled and fawned over the couple, offering congratulations. Even though everyone was well-meaning, it was clear Penelope wasn’t feeling up for socializing and it took them what seemed like ages to reach the hall.

  When they’d distanced themselves from the ballroom, Oliver said, “I’m sorry for all the hoopla. You dazzled in there.”

  “I made a spectacle.”

  “No, Genevieve did. I’ve seen my share of royal ladies faint. It’s not as uncommon as you’d think.”

  They reached the hall leading to her suite. Oliver wanted to say more, to comfort her, to let her know he was both relieved and excited she was the one the queen selected. The words stuck in his throat because he didn’t want to overwhelm her. But when she stopped in front of her door, it was as if the words were given permission to go. “You’re uncommon, Penelope, and I mean that in the best of ways. You’re clever, funny, have your own personality, and like my sister, don’t necessarily follow the dictates of your social standing while also remaining a woman of integrity and class. I can’t think of another of the royals-in-waiting I’d like to become the queen by my side. For you, I’m willing to break my no-royals rule.”

  “It was down to Odelia and me.”

  Oliver tilted his head from side to side. “Pardon my saying, but she has the personality of a wet noodle.”

  Penelope fought off a smile.
“I’m sorry, Oliver, but I’m not the person you think I am.”

  “You’re every bit and more and I look forward to getting to know you.”

  Just then, the queen paraded down the hall with several of her assistants in tow.

  Penelope did her cute little curtsy-bow. “Your Majesty, I hope I didn’t spoil the night.”

  “Oh, Tosh. The ball shall continue even without our presence. It’s custom the queen departs after the new couple.” She leaned in. “Which is lucky for me because I have episodes of Britain’s Got Talent to catch up on.” She winked, wished them goodnight, and continued down the corridor.

  Oliver found Penelope’s hand, wishing to erase the doubt from her eyes. “Tomorrow we depart for Concordia and it’ll be just you and me. And after the initial fuss of our arrival, things will calm down and we’ll catch up on episodes of Concordia’s Got Talent, bake cookies, and watch football. Just promise me you won’t get any crazy ideas and leave.”

  Penelope smiled, but her eyes were still sad.

  “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” He smoothed her hair and then kissed her forehead because whatever it was that bothered her, he wanted, more than anything, to make it go away. It tore him up to see her upset, conflicted, or whatever it was that kept her glum.

  As he retired to his quarters, he had a sudden and alarming thought, what if, like Colette, she already had a sweetheart? What if there was a man waiting for her back in America? Perhaps she counted on not being chosen among the royals-in-waiting because of her unconventional upbringing. Panic seized him. Perhaps they’d gotten it all wrong. As much as he loathed the formal process of selecting a marriage partner, he didn’t want to force anyone into the position. Penelope was a free-spirit and what if they’d just put her in a cage? He tossed and turned well into the night, unable to sleep.

  At last, he got up and snuck through the door to the hall leading to her suite. He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to scare her, but he had to ask the question and the next morning would be too chaotic for them to have a moment alone before they boarded the train.

  Moments later, the door opened and Penelope blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light. “Oliver? What are you doing here?”

  His breath was ragged. “I have to ask you something.”

  She looked pained.

  “Like Colette, there isn’t someone else, is there?”

  The inside of her eyebrows pitched downward in sleepy confusion. “No. There isn’t.”

  Then he remembered what she’d said when she woke up earlier in the ballroom. “Right. Baking before boys.”

  “How do you know about that?” Her eyes widened.

  “You said it when you came to.”

  She shook her head as though trying to remember. “Oh, that was something my sis—” She cleared her throat. “My friend and I used to say. To stick to our priorities. Did I say anything else?” Her eyes widened.

  Oliver’s shoulders settled and his breath evened out. He shook his head, relieved then answered her question. “Nothing.”

  “Well, well, well, a little late-night rendezvous. I should’ve known.”

  Penelope startled.

  Oliver turned to Genevieve.

  “This was all set up from the beginning, I bet.”

  “It was an even playing field. In fact, if I had my way, there wouldn’t have been a courtship process.”

  “What? Do you believe in true love, Oliver?” Genevieve laughed shrilly.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “How precious. Perhaps it’s better I didn’t align with the future leader of Concordia after all. Wouldn’t want him to get all sentimental when trying to lead a nation.”

  “I thought you were asked to leave.”

  “I’ll be gone by morning, but I promise you both, you have not heard the last from me.” Genevieve strode down the hall.

  Penelope shivered.

  “I’m sorry to have woken you up. See you at brunch.” He squeezed her hand and then returned to his room, feeling not at all better. In fact, he was more unsettled. Was it Genevieve? No, her threats were hollow. She was an opportunist trying to save face. He knew it, Ava knew it, the queen knew it. But it was something about Penelope. Even though she assured him there wasn’t another man in her life; he sensed something was off. Maybe she feared she’d made the wrong choice if it even was a choice. He knew that well enough.

  The following morning, Oliver rose to clouds heavy with rain. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, but the previous night was his last in the palace, at least as a resident and not as a guest. The footmen would pack up his room and send his belongings to Concordia. He’d miss it, but looked forward to his future with his people and with Penelope.

  He was the second to last to arrive at the farewell brunch. Penelope was not in her seat beside Ava, who’d just returned from the stables.

  “Morning ride, before the rain. What time do we depart?” his sister asked.

  “The train leaves at just past one, Miss,” Livingston said from his post by the door.

  “Don’t be late,” Oliver advised.

  “Don’t worry. I know Concordia runs like clockwork and wouldn’t dare throw off the train schedule. I have a schedule of my own to keep. Unfortunately, I won’t be in Concordia long.”

  “Where are you off to this time?” Oliver asked, suspicious.

  “I have a meeting with a diplomat in Hungary.”

  “Is that so? You’ll miss my birthday then.”

  “I’ll make it up to you.”

  Unlikely, story. Probably she’ll be off traveling solo again and exploring.

  “And there’s the issue of the weather,” Livingston added. “Heavy rain predicted here which means snow likely up north.”

  “In that case, we should begin. I suppose Penelope will be down shortly?”

  Oliver nodded.

  The queen stood and raised a glass. “With the train schedule in mind, I suppose I’ll say a few words before we eat. I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Oliver, and I have no doubt you’ll lead the people of Concordia with courage, strength, and resolve.”

  As she continued, he had the worrisome thought that he wasn’t sure if he was ready. He’d grown up seeing the queen in action but had never known his father and felt like he was entering new territory.

  “There’s no doubt becoming a king and a husband are big changes, but you’re a fine man and will do wonderfully.”

  She patted his back. “Now, shall we enjoy brunch?”

  Oliver picked at his food, wondering where Penelope was and worrying that things weren’t going to work out wonderfully at all.

  Chapter 15

  Penny

  Penny woke to Addie packing up the closet. She’d repeatedly told herself it was time for the charade to come to an end but hadn’t mustered the courage.

  She got out of bed, preparing for the shame and embarrassment to come when she nearly tripped over a familiar suitcase. She reflexively opened the little leather tag and sure enough, it said Penelope Jones and had her old Manhattan address. She pulled it off and stuffed it in a front pouch without thinking. What if someone already saw it and they were waiting downstairs for brunch and were going to confront her. Her mind jumped to the story she’d tell if anyone asked about the name on the tag. Penelope Jones was an alias to not draw attention to her true identity.

  She shook her head. No more lies or evading the truth. She was already late for the farewell brunch and the train was scheduled to depart in just under two hours. She had to make things right before Oliver left her life forever. “It’s now or never.”

  She pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater from her luggage. It was not designer or even that well-made compared to the clothing she’d been wearing while staying at the palace. But it brought her comfort among so much uncertainty.

  As she showered, the events from the night before replayed in her mind. She’d fainted, again. Like the first time, it was because of
the overwhelm and fatigue, but unlike the first time when she was simply in shock, this second episode was a result of the stress she’d been under. She exhaled sharply, fighting with her mind. She could not deny that her body, against her wishes, responded to Oliver in a way she couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was the long-term crush rising to the surface. In theory, her mind could put baking before boys but not her body. Even thinking about him ignited little sparks in her belly, her chest, behind her eyes. She couldn’t deny it. He made her swoon.

  Or it could have just been that he wasn’t actually the snob the gossip magazines and website portrayed him as. He was pleasant, kind, thoughtful, funny. He seemed to like her—the person he thought she was—and that had to end. She’d repeatedly told herself to do the right thing but had chickened out each time.

  She dried off and heard the familiar chime of her cellphone. She rushed to it, streaking through the room, still in her towel. The display showed a photo of her sister.

  “Emma,” she answered.

  Relief and happiness rushed through her at the sound of her sister’s voice as they exchanged greetings.

  “I don’t know how long I have because this connection isn’t great. I already hung up on mom but I swear it was an accident. Okay, ready? Guess what? Will asked me to marry him.”

  Penny started to shriek and then caught herself because she didn’t want to draw Addie’s attention. “That’s so exciting. Congratulations. I want to hear every detail.” Despite all her personal troubles, there was a smile and happiness in her voice. She hoped Emma could hear it too.

  “I will tell you all the sweet, mushy details when I have a better phone connection. Plus, I want to see your face when you hear the whole story. It was easily the most romantic thing ever. For now, what’s going on with you? You seem preoccupied.”