by JC Harroway
I shake my head. Her words make no sense. I’m the one who messed up.
‘I hurt you when you opened yourself up to me, because I was too scared to be as vulnerable as you were.’ Her eyes plead. ‘But friendship won’t satisfy me any longer. I want more. I want all of you—every bad, sexy, playful, caring inch.’
I can hardly compute what she’s saying. ‘You should have told me.’ It comes out sounding like an recrimination but the only person I blame is myself. ‘Back then. And I should have told you.’
She nods. ‘Maybe neither of us was ready nine years ago, but I should have told you how I feel in the Maldives rather than let you leave thinking I care about something you did as an angry, confused teenager. I don’t care about anything but you. Us. I don’t care about Slay, or the past or the press. I just want you. I love you.’
I stride to her, then scoop her up in my arms and kiss her. ‘I love you too. God, do I love you.’ I kiss her smiling lips. ‘So much. So much it hurts.’
Her arms come around my waist, under my suit jacket, and she holds me tight. She laughs, tears in her eyes as she accepts my crazed kisses peppering her face and returns them with a few of her own. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough. I’ll always want more of my wondrous Neve.
‘We’re such idiots.’ She sniffs and buries her head against my chest, over my pounding heart.
‘I agree. There are elements of the ridiculous about us, but that’s why we’re meant for each other.’
‘You really love me?’ she asks, a soft murmur.
I nod, my chest full to bursting. ‘I love you so much that I can’t breathe or think or function without you. I love you so much that I binge-watched that baking show you love last night. I’ve binned any trace of coconut in my pantry, just in case, and I found four videos of cute puppies I want to send you—the ones that make you cry.’
Her smile tears my heart in two. ‘That is a lot.’
I stride to the sofa, sitting down with her in my lap so we can resume the kissing in comfort.
She straddles my thighs, her skirt riding up as our kisses grow heated. Then she pulls back, the look of love and lust on her face making her more exquisite than ever. ‘Do you have meetings this afternoon?’ She wriggles on my lap and I forget what day it is, let alone what’s on my schedule.
‘Yes,’ I say with a sinking feeling in my gut. ‘You?’
‘Yes.’ She sighs, leaning forward to kiss my neck.
‘I’ll cancel them,’ I tell her without hesitation. There’s nothing more important to me than Neve.
She looks up with that naughty glint in her eye, her bottom lip trapped under her teeth. ‘I will too. Let’s be bad and play hooky together.’
‘Deal.’ I kiss her once more. ‘But first I need to do something.’ I retrieve the ring box from my pocket. Even consumed with business during my brief trip to Japan, she was at the forefront of my mind. Purchasing an engagement ring I know she’ll love was my first priority when the plane touched down.
I take the ring from the box, feeling her held breath and her eyes on me, and hold it up between us. ‘I should have done it properly the first time, because I meant every word. So I’ll ask you again. A fresh start.
‘Neve Sara Grayson, I’ll love you for ever. I’m less without you. So, will you marry me?’
‘Yes,’ she says, laughing and crying at the same time. Kissing me, holding out her trembling hand for my ring.
I press a kiss to her ring finger, my lips lingering for a few heartbeats, and then slide the diamond in place. ‘There—now you’re finally mine.’
‘Yes, and you’re mine—so take me home, so we can do dirty things to each other.’
‘Whatever you say, my darling. It will be my pleasure.’
EPILOGUE
Two months later,
Christmas Eve
Neve
OLIVER AND I have spent Christmas together before, at my parents’ or his mother’s, but never just the two of us. And this year, as the song goes, he’s all I want for Christmas. For ever.
I’ve lit the fire in his huge living room for that festive feel, but I’ve also deliberately cranked the heating up so high that he’s wandering around in just his jeans and a Christmas apron I gave him as an early present. It says, Screw nice, let’s be naughty. It’s all part of my cunning plan to get him naked... And to think that he lived under the mistaken impression that I’m somehow sweet for nine years.
We’ve spent the afternoon baking mince pies together and drinking mulled wine. He suggested a Christmas movie, but his penthouse apartment is so pretty—both inside, with a huge tree, and outside, with views of a glittering London from the wall of windows—that together with the arresting sight of his sexiness there’s enough visual distraction.
He comes up behind me and traps me where I’m leaning against the wiped-clean kitchen counter with one arm each side. He nuzzles my neck, sending delicious shivers down my spine.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ he says, kissing my temple.
‘Me too.’ I lift my mouth up to his kiss and turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist. ‘So, what’s your Christmas wish?’ I slide my hand up his naked back and walk my fingers over his shoulder and down his chest.
‘Well, that’s easy. You. For ever. You’re also going to be my New Year’s resolution, by the way.’ His lips trail my jaw and down my neck and I loll my head to the side, giving him access as desire grips me. After all, it has been all of four hours since we were last naked together...
‘Well, we’d better start planning our wedding, then,’ I say, smiling when he jerks upright, his handsome face alive with wonder and hope.
‘Really?’ He grips my waist, lifting me up, and I cling to his hips with my thighs.
‘Really,’ I say, kissing him as he walks us to the enormous white leather sofa facing the fire.
We shed our clothes, laughing, kissing and loving each other, exactly the way we were meant to be. When he’s laid out on top of me, love and passion in his expression, I’m momentarily distracted.
‘Oliver, can you smell burning?’ I ask.
He stops kissing my chest and sniffs the air. ‘Fuck, I think it’s the mince pies.’
I hold in a laugh. ‘Oh, dear,’ I say, wrapping my legs around his hips to stop his escape. ‘So there is something you’re no good at. Don’t worry. Keep practising. We’ll make a cook of you yet.’
‘Sod it.’ He grins, his mouth finding my nipple in a pinch of revenge that only encourages me to tease him more. ‘I have smoke alarms.’
And then we lose ourselves in one of the things he excels at.
Friends. Lovers. In love.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Dating the Billionaire by Lisa Childs.
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CHAPTER ONE
“I DON’T NEED a matchmaking service,” Blair Snyder said, throwing up her hands to ward off her friend’s efforts to convince her.
Since they had been little kids, Miranda Fox had always been able to talk Blair into things that weren’t good for her...like eating the cupcakes her mother had made for her book club meeting. Or starting a pet-sitting business even though she was allergic to dogs. Or ditching school to stake out the arena where a boy band was performing.
Even today, many years since they’d been little kids, Miranda had talked her into flying, on a moment’s notice, to Milan, Italy, to meet her for drinks on Hotel Galles’s rooftop. Fortunately Blair was a pilot with access to her company’s fleet of private planes, so she wouldn’t have any repercussions from this excursion like she had all those other times Miranda had talked her into things. Blair wasn’t going to get in trouble for using the plane...unless her business partner, who was also her older brother, found out she’d used the Cessna to meet Miranda. He’d always considered her school friend a bad influence on her, which was pretty damn ironic coming from him.
But maybe it was easier for one bad influence to recognize another...because Miranda had never been a huge fan of his, either.
As far as things Miranda had talked her into doing went, this was one of the better ones. Blair had already taken in the view of the steeples of the Duomo and, in the distance, the golden mounds of the Alps. Now she lifted her face to the warmth of the sun shining down on them and raised her glass of pinot grigio to her mouth for a long sip. A sigh of contentment slipped out of her lips.
The contentment didn’t last—not when Miranda tapped her long, manicured nails against the glass tabletop and asked, “So who are you seeing?”
With the waiter hovering nearby, Blair fought the temptation to flip off her friend and instead just glared at her. “You know I’m not seeing anyone.”
As well as her partner in past crimes, Miranda was—as always—her confidante. She told her everything. Unfortunately. They were more than best friends; they were like sisters. Actually, Blair with her blond hair and blue eyes looked more like Miranda than either of the matchmaker’s biological sisters did.
Miranda smiled. “I can fix that for you. I can find you your soul mate.”
“The last thing I want is a husband.” She shuddered at the thought of some man trying to control her, to pin her down, to keep her in one place...
It was too horrible a thought to even allow into her mind. Especially here on this beautiful rooftop, with these beautiful views.
“I didn’t say husband,” Miranda said with a shudder of her own as she uttered the word like it was a curse. “You don’t have to marry the guy. You can just enjoy him.”
Blair hadn’t enjoyed a guy in a long time, which her friend damn well knew. “But you said soul mate.” Another tremor ran through her at the hopelessly romantic term. “That sounds like something our mothers would say.”
“Liaisons International is not your mother’s matchmaking service,” Miranda continued defensively. “Well, it’s not my mother’s matchmaking service, not anymore, not since my sisters and I took over the company and changed the entire business model for it.”
A smile tugged at Blair’s lips, and she shook her head. Even though it had been a few months, she was still in shock over what her friend had done. “I can’t believe you went into the family business—not with the way you always felt about it.”
She had listened to Miranda and her sisters, but especially Miranda, rant and rave so many times over their mother’s company, over everything about their mother. Catarina was the hopeless romantic who’d started the matchmaking business, and with five marriages in her fifty-five years of life, she really was hopeless. So Blair had always supported and understood her friend’s frustration with her mother, just as Miranda had understood Blair’s frustration with hers.
Miranda raised her wineglass to her lips and tipped back what was left of her red, as if she needed it to brace herself. “Me neither,” she murmured. “But I saw a need for an overhaul in that old system and for more security in the new system that men and women use to meet and date.”
“Apps are the new system,” Blair said with a sigh of resignation. She’d tried them herself.
“Apps,” Miranda said, her voice sharp with disgust, “make it too easy for people to lie about themselves and about their true intentions. At Liaisons International, we vet every single member, so that there are no unwelcome surprises. It’s the safest way to date worldwide.”
Blair chuckled now at what must have been their company’s marketing slogan. “You are good, my friend. You’ve nearly sucked me in.”
“I’m not trying to suck you in,” Miranda said. “I’m trying to get you back out there, dating, safely.”
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Blair asked. A former fighter pilot, she was tough, but there had been times dating had scared her, when the men had gotten too aggressive, too clingy and too stalkerish. She’d been able to handle them, but she’d been reluctant to put herself into that situation again.
“I promise you won’t be harassed,” Miranda persisted. “And that all of our members are exceptionally attractive.”
“Isn’t that discrimination?” Blair asked. When trying to become a fighter pilot, she’d been subjected to way too much of that as well.
Miranda shrugged and smiled. “I just call it good fortune...” She inclined her head toward the attractive young waiter. “Like the male members make him look homely.”
“Yeah, right,” Blair remarked with a chuckle. But temptation pulled at her, drawing her in.
To what?
Possibilities? She didn’t want marriage, but she actually wouldn’t mind enjoying a man again. Really, really enjoying him...
Trying not to appear too intrigued, she studied her wineglass with the setting sun glowing within the pale amber liquid. Then she oh-so-casually asked, “So who are some of these male members?”
“Tsk, tsk, no, no, no...” Miranda admonished her with a shake of her head. “You’re going to have to join if you want to find out.”
“And I thought we were friends,” Blair teased.
“We are,” Miranda said. “That’s why I want you to join. You work so hard all the time—first in the air force and now with your business. You need to balance all that work with some play, with some fun.”
Skeptical, Blair arched a brow. “Fun? Since when is dating fun?” It had never been that for her. Every man she’d met had tried to change her in some way, had wanted her to be more feminine, less her.
“Dating will be fun for you now,” Miranda promised as she lifted her empty glass to clink against the rim of Blair’s. “Since you have just become the newest member of Liaisons International.”
Blair groaned in realization of what she’d done. In joining the dating service, she had let Miranda talk her into something again—something that was undoubtedly going to get her in trouble, just as she had gotten into trouble every time she’d let Miranda talk her into anything.
* * *
What the hel
l had Matteo Rinaldi gotten himself into? Joining a dating service was risky, but dating blindly had proved even riskier—as all the advertising for Liaisons International had pointed out.
He leaned over the sink in the bathroom of his hotel suite and stared into the mirror to adjust the black tie of his tuxedo. Matteo was about to find out if the premier dating service was actually going to deliver on the promises it had made him when he joined.
No games.
No lies.
No secret agendas.
That was what he’d been promised. Other women had made him those same promises but had, over and over again, broken their vows. They’d played games. They’d lied. They’d had their own agendas.
He was not going to be blindsided. Ever again. His eyes were wide open now. Whatever his date had told the service, he doubted that she really wasn’t looking for a husband and a rich one at that. Why else would she have signed up for the elite agency?
He made that assumption because that had been his experience with women; starting with his mom who’d used men for financial support and had taught his sister, Francesca, to do the same. They weren’t above using him either, especially now.
Hopefully tonight went well and not just with his date. He glanced at his watch, checking to see if she was late. She had better not be—because he couldn’t be late. Not tonight.
So he probably shouldn’t have set up his first date with Liaisons International for this evening of all evenings. But knowing Francesca, his attending the event solo would cause more problems for him than bringing along a stranger. She, undoubtedly, had a friend she wanted to set up with him.
As he walked out of the bathroom, he noticed a darkness at the bottom of the door to the hall. No light showed through the crack as it had earlier. Someone or something had cast a shadow against his door. Nobody had knocked, so it was probably a maid’s cleaning cart or a room service trolley. He hadn’t ordered either, though.
