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The Billionaire Bundle

Page 21

by Michele De Winton


  “Serena—that was it. Dumped you when you got in your spot of trouble, didn’t she? Looked a bit like this one. So what do you think?”

  “She’s up to something.”

  “Yeah, and it’s got nothing to do with dancing.” He paused for a moment. “We could always ask her.”

  Luc tapped his fingers on the table as he considered the idea. “We could, but as you pointed out, she’s Brent’s daughter. Telling the truth is probably not on her current agenda. No, we’ll go with the original plan. I’ll offer her a job, keep her close, she’ll soon give away what she’s up to, and she may lead me to Brent.”

  “Sounds good. But be careful. If Jimmy’s coming back, he’s going to want you out of the way. And this time he’ll make sure it’s permanent.”

  Chapter Three

  So much for the plan.

  Lia felt the nausea churning in her stomach, the occasional tremor run through her body. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down.

  Her dress was still gaping, and she refastened the buttons with trembling fingers.

  “Don’t be such a wimp,” she muttered to herself. This was a public place, what could possibly happen? And with that thought her mind was immediately flooded with a deluge of horrible things and they all seemed not only possible, but highly probable.

  She narrowly resisted the urge to bang her head on the table—she had been so stupid to think this would work. What the hell had she been thinking?

  “Lia!”

  Someone called her name, and she jumped. Slowly, she rose to her feet and forced herself to walk over. Harley gestured toward a seat and she sank into it gratefully; at least he didn’t expect her to take up where she left off.

  “No go, darling.”

  For a moment, she was engulfed in a wave of relief, quickly followed by a wave of frustration. It couldn’t be over. Perhaps she could still ask about her father. Then Harley smiled.

  “How bad do you need a job?”

  The smile wasn’t particularly comforting. Lia knew the sensible thing was to get out of this now, but when had sensible played any part in her decisions? All she had to say was that she didn’t need the job after all, and presumably, she could go. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but somehow she couldn’t seem to force them past her lips.

  “Desperately,” she lied.

  It was sort of true; she was desperate, but a job wasn’t going to help. She needed money and she needed it fast, but more money and faster than any job could provide. Finding her father was her only hope.

  “Well, we do have a…”—Harley paused as if searching for the correct word—“…a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”

  “A proposition?”

  Harley laughed. “Nothing shady, I promise. I’ll let Luc tell you about it.”

  “Luc?” she asked.

  A man stepped forward from the shadows of the booth and Lia gasped. She recognized him instantly as the man she had watched on the street not twenty minutes before, and up close, it was obvious why he had caught her attention. He was very tall and lean, with midnight black hair and golden skin all wrapped up in a dark business suit, maroon-colored tie and pristine white shirt. At first sight, compared to Harley Watson, he appeared almost normal, safe. Then she looked up into the hard planes of his face and swallowed; he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with the sleek, carnal good looks of a fallen angel. A deep scar ran from his right eye down across his cheek lifting the corner of his mouth, turning his masculine beauty into something dangerous, and Lia felt the muscles in her belly clench. Then he smiled. Instantly, he looked younger, almost boyish, the dark edge gone, and warmth flooded her body.

  He held out a hand and Lia took it reluctantly, almost jumping at the buzz of sensation that coursed up her arm from the point of contact. He held her gaze and she stared back mesmerized by his eyes. His appearance was all dark Mediterranean except for the eyes; they were bright, jewel green, heavy-lidded, and deceptively sleepy behind a thick fringe of black lashes. As she stared up at him, a faint hint of amusement lifted the corner of his stern, beautiful mouth. He glanced down pointedly, and Lia realized she still had hold of his hand, was actually clutching it like it was some kind of lifeline. She dropped it reluctantly.

  “Miss Brent,” he said, his voice like velvet stroking against her skin, sending frissons of sensation skittering down her spine. “My name is Luc Severino. I was a…” he paused for a moment, “…an acquaintance of your father’s.”

  Lia clutched her hands together in front of her and forced herself to concentrate. An acquaintance of her father’s? That didn’t sound good. While she hadn’t known much about her father’s business—it was a subject her mother had refused to discuss, ever—Lia had picked up enough hints to be pretty sure none of it was legitimate. She studied Luc Severino warily. He was dressed like a businessman, but he exuded an air of restiveness that she certainly wouldn’t have connected with a boring office job. Then again, he had admitted he knew her father, had been some sort of acquaintance. This was what she had come here for. What she needed.

  She cleared her throat. “Er, so what is this proposition?”

  “You need a job. I’m in a position to give you one and provide you with somewhere to stay until you get yourself sorted out.”

  Lia’s eyes flickered over his face, but his expression remained impassive, those stunning emerald eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Let’s just say I owe your father.”

  Harley Watson gave a snort, and she saw a warning glance flash from Luc. There was something not quite right here, but she couldn’t work out what it was. And what did she expect anyway? She was in a shady strip joint, in a dodgy part of London, conspiring with at least one very dodgy person. Probably two if Luc Severino lived up to those dangerous looks.

  “It’s a legitimate proposition, Miss Brent—Lia,” Luc said smoothly. “I’m in need of some help at the moment and I can repay my debt to your father at the same time.”

  All sorts of alarm bells were ringing in her head. “Just what is it that my father did for you?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not something I can share with you. You’ll have to ask your father.” He paused and examined her closely. “Have you spoken to him recently?”

  The question sounded casual but Lia stiffened. Something was definitely going on here, something she didn’t understand.

  “No, not recently.” Here was her chance. “Have you?”

  His eyes narrowed at her question, but he shook his head, and they were all silent for a moment.

  “So, what do you say, Lia?” Harley said. Lia had almost forgotten he was there. “You get a job and you get to keep your clothes on.” He sounded amused, and Lia glanced at him sharply.

  “I don’t know…” She nibbled on her lower lip.

  “Perhaps you would feel more comfortable discussing this in more businesslike surroundings,” Luc said. “No disrespect to Harley’s place of work…” He gestured up at the stage, and Lia followed his gaze. The blonde had been replaced by a redhead who was actually wearing something, something that looked to Lia’s inexperienced eyes like feathers, but the woman was molting fast. Lia turned away thankfully as Luc continued. “…but perhaps you would feel more comfortable at my office.”

  “Your office?” she asked. That sounded infinitely better. She got to her feet, ready to go, then paused. “Won’t it be closed?”

  “Oh, I think they’ll open up for me. But before we leave...” He reached out toward her and Lia had to force herself to stay put, stand her ground. What was he doing? She looked down as his long fingers flicked open the top two buttons of her dress.

  “They’re done up the wrong way,” he murmured.

  “Oh.” She stood still as he refastened them, feeling the graze of his knuckles against the soft swell of her breast. Glancing down at those long, tanned fingers, a sharp jolt of sensat
ion ran through her, and she bit back a gasp, wishing, not for the first time that night, that she’d worn a bra.

  “There,” he said, stepping back, “we can go now.”

  He picked up her jacket from the chair and held it for her. She slipped into it, and couldn’t prevent a shiver from rippling through her as he stroked the material down her arms.

  “Right then,” Harley said, “that’s sorted. I’m glad. Old friends should help each other out and any daughter of Jimmy Brent’s is a…” he paused and shook his head. “Never mind. You go with Luc now, he’s a good lad, you’ll be okay with him.”

  Lia frowned. All of a sudden, Harley seemed to have shed his evil persona and was radiating good will. What was going on here? She cast a quick glance at Luc. Anything less like a lad she had never met, but he was smiling at the other man.

  “Thanks, Harley. I owe you.”

  Owed him for what, she wondered, but then he slid an arm around Lia’s waist and she shot forward into overdrive.

  They were on their way before she realized she hadn’t actually agreed to go with him. But she was filled with an almost overwhelming urge to get out of there, to get away from that horrible brutish man and his horrible sleazy club. And after all, they were going to an office.

  What could possibly happen in an office?

  …

  Lia had never been impressed by a car before; she rarely noticed them as long as they worked. But this one was truly wicked—long, sleek, and black, and it purred. It suited its owner perfectly. Whatever Luc Severino did for a living, legitimate or otherwise—and she was leaning toward the “otherwise” at the moment—he was obviously successful. The car screamed expensive.

  Luc had been silent since they’d left the club, wrapped in his own thoughts, which, from his set expression, obviously weren’t happy. Lia used the time to pull herself together and work out what was going on. Was he regretting his offer of help? And why had he? What was his relationship to her father?

  As far back as she could remember, Lia had despised her father. Hated everything about him—what he did, his way of life, and most of all, how he’d treated her mother. Her mother had accepted it, taken everything he dished out, and then pined away when he’d disappeared.

  Lia had been glad when he’d disappeared, and she swore she was never going to end up like her mother. “Keep away from handsome, dishonest bullies” had been the creed she had grown up with.

  The thought made her glance over at the man next to her, and her breath quickened. Her father might have been handsome, but Luc Severino was in a class of his own. He was stunning in profile, all lean, hard, masculine lines.

  Lia turned away to stare out the window. The adrenaline oozed out of her system, leaving her shaky and weak. Her muscles remained locked rigid, and she forced her limbs to relax. The tension drained away, but too late she realized it was all that was holding her together. Luc must have sensed something; he swore under his breath and pulled the car over to the side of the road.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, but I was actually frightened in there. It was stupid of me.”

  He sighed. “Not so stupid, cara, you were out of your depth. But you can relax now—you’re safe.”

  She shivered. “That man, he seemed so cold, so…”

  “So unimpressed by your charms? Don’t take it personally—Harley’s gay.”

  “You mean, you and he…?”

  Luc let out a short laugh. “No, not him and me, but he does have a boyfriend.”

  “How do you know him?” she asked.

  “Harley’s an old friend.”

  “But you seem so different.”

  “Are you trying to find out if I’m an honest businessman, Lia?” He slanted her a quick look. “Does it matter?”

  Did it? It shouldn’t. He was merely a means to an end, a step closer to finding her father and getting the money she needed. But she realized it did matter—she didn’t want Luc to be some sleazy, dodgy criminal, like her father. She forced the thought to the back of her mind. What Luc Severino did—legitimate or otherwise—was of no concern to her.

  “No, it doesn’t matter.”

  Luc pulled out into the traffic once more and shortly afterward, they turned into an underground garage. The car stopped briefly at a security check only to be waved through by the uniformed guard.

  Luc got out, came around, and held the door for her, but Lia managed to scramble out before he could reach in to help her. She followed him to a bank of elevators but hesitated as he gestured for her to enter, some inner sense screaming that this was a huge mistake.

  “It’s only an elevator, Lia,” he said smoothly.

  She stepped forward reluctantly and closed her eyes as the elevator doors slid shut. When she opened them, Luc was watching her, a glint of amusement in those beautiful eyes.

  “Would you like to contact someone, let them know where you are? Your mother perhaps?”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he said, his eyes sliding over her body, “but it’s a sensible precaution.”

  Lia shook her head. “No,” she muttered. “You think I’m naïve, don’t you?” For some reason, she hated the idea, but it was hardly surprising—she’d acted like a complete idiot. Her only excuse was that she hadn’t been thinking straight.

  “Either that or a very good actress. I haven’t decided which yet.”

  “Glad to have made such a good impression.”

  Luc laughed, but before he could say anything further, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  “Let me take your jacket.”

  “I’ll keep it, thank you.” The occasional tremor still shivered through her body, and she hugged the jacket to her like a safety blanket.

  The office was enormous, bigger than the club they’d just left, and ultramodern with sleek steel and black leather furniture, and a huge desk with so much equipment it looked like the console of a space ship. One whole wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, giving a breathtaking view over the city of London sprawled out below them.

  “Is this your office?”

  He nodded, and it occurred to her again that if he was a criminal, he must be an extremely successful one. The thought was not particularly comforting, and she did her best not to dwell on it. After all, he’d gotten her out of that horrible club, away from that horrible man. Taking a deep breath, she managed to relax a little.

  “So, Lia…” Luc said, his tone dangerously gentle. “Tell me, why did you really go and see Harley Watson?”

  Lia’s gaze shot to his face. “What?”

  “You didn’t want to work at the club.”

  It was a statement, not a question, and Lia swallowed. She’d always been a horrific liar, but at least Luc Severino wouldn’t know the telltale signs. He wouldn’t know that beneath the fall of her carefully straightened hair, the tips of her ears were bright red, a dead giveaway to anyone who knew her that she was about to tell a whopper.

  “Oh yes, I did.”

  He quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “Why?”

  “I wanted to get away from home. I live with my family in a small village outside London, and it’s so boring.” And if she ever got back there in one piece, she would never leave again. “I wanted a little excitement and I needed a job. I remembered Mr. Watson from when we stayed in London. It seemed such a glamorous idea.” She sighed, deciding it was time to inject a little much needed honesty. “But once I got there, it didn’t seem quite so glamorous anymore.” She shuddered at the understatement. “And I…well, I just didn’t seem to have the right…” she cast a surreptitious glance at her chest, “…qualifications for the job.”

  Luc intercepted the look. “Not all men are obsessed with enormous breasts,” he said.

  She risked a quick glance at his face and found his eyes lingering on the long length of her legs beneath the hem of her dress. Lia resisted the urg
e to tug it down—she was beginning to hate that dress. It was going straight back to Kelly when she got home.

  “Anyway, thank you for getting me out of there. You were right—I was out of my depth.”

  Luc examined her curiously for a moment. “Just what is it you thought might happen?”

  “White slave trade,” she mumbled under her breath.

  To her surprise Luc didn’t laugh. Instead, he inspected her from head to toe as if trying to decide whether the price would be worth the trouble.

  “Not Harley’s specialty,” he said after an uncomfortable minute.

  Did that mean he knew someone whose specialty it was? After all, what did she really know about this man? Only that he’d been some sort of acquaintance of her father’s, and that hardly qualified as a good reference. It was time to get back to the point of this meeting, and then hopefully she could head home; she had an early training session in the morning.

  “Do you have a club?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “So what sort of job would I be doing?” She tried not to sound worried but from the amusement that flashed across his face, she was pretty sure she failed miserably.

  “Let’s take a look at your résumé, shall we?”

  Lia winced as he withdrew the crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. Her fists balled at her sides as she fought the urge to grab it out of his hand. He must have picked it up at the club, and she really wished he hadn’t. Maybe it wasn’t illegal to fabricate a résumé, but if it was, then she was probably in trouble.

  Luc scanned it. “Ballet?” he said, and now she could hear the thread of amusement in his voice. It was starting to irritate her.

  “I thought that would help with the dancing. But, I’ve got to be honest, I actually gave up when I was seven, and I was really awful. So if the job needs ballet, well…” She shut up. She was rambling. Of course, any job this man gave her wasn’t going to include ballet.

  “Horseback riding?”

  “That’s not an exaggeration. I am actually quite good, I’ve…” she paused. He was staring at her, that mocking smile back on his face. “No horses?”

 

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