The Bunny and the Billionaire

by Louisa Masters

  “So spell it, then.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. When he put it back, she said, “Making faces at me is not going to change anything.”

  He growled a little, then forwent comment and spelled out what he could remember from the sign. She tapped away, then said, “Got it!”

  A moment later that was followed by “Fuck me!” and Ben groaned. Not again.

  “What now?” he asked, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow. Unfortunately, that muffled Dani’s voice, so he pulled it out again.

  “…but aside from the fabulous neighbors, do you know what it means to have property on Avenue Princesse Grace?”

  “What does it mean?” Ben was totally resigned to the answer. He was. Really.

  “Let’s just say, if your dinky eight-square unit was there, based on location alone, it would be worth over ten million Aussie dollars.”

  Ben sat up. “Say what?” He’d walked on the floors with his shoes on! He’d peed in the toilet!

  Dani’s laugh made him realize he’d said that out loud.

  “I’m hanging up now,” he said.

  “No, don’t! I’ll be good, I promise,” Dani pleaded. He lay back down and sighed. “That was a big sigh,” she prompted.

  “Yeah. It’s stupid. Just…. Léo’s so nice. And hot. And he likes me. That’s weird, right? Billionaires aren’t supposed to like people like me.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. Most people like you, so why wouldn’t billionaires?”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Ben told her, putting his arm over his eyes.

  “Dumber than ‘I peed in the toilet’?”

  He snorted. “I was in shock. Can’t be held accountable.”

  “Right.” She sounded skeptical. “So, Léo is hot and nice and likes you, and this depresses you? I gotta tell you, Benji, there are a lot of people who would have you committed for this.”

  “Don’t call me Benji,” he said automatically. “And it’s not Léo that depresses me. Well, not exactly. It’s just… he was so awesome yesterday, and last night was amazing, and even though I decided this was going to be a fairy-tale fling, maybe part of me started thinking how great everything is. And how it would be really great to spend more time with Léo. Which is stupid, because it’s been less than forty-eight hours since I met him, right? And this was only supposed to be a fling. And the cost of his bathroom could pay for my entire apartment and then some, not to mention his neighbors are… who did you say?”

  “Never mind,” Dani said. “Better that you not know. But, hon, this is not that big a deal. From the sounds of it, the money kind of slips into second place when you’re around Léo, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ben admitted. “I mean, you can’t ignore it, because it’s part of everything about him. His clothes, his car, the places he eats and what he orders, all of it. But he’s so interesting and cool that he kind of takes over.”

  “Okay, so focus on that, on Léo. You’ve got, what, nearly three days left there? Spend that time with him. Maybe the two of you will get sick of each other. Maybe he’ll do something really douchey. Then you can leave with a great experience under your belt and no regrets. Or, maybe he’ll still be awesome and you’ll want to spend more time with him, so you tweak your travel plans and extend your stay. You’re not on a schedule, Ben, remember?”

  “Yeah…,” Ben said slowly, then cheered up. “Yes. I can spend the next couple days as planned, and then if things are good, and I want to, I’ll just stay a couple more days.”

  “Or weeks,” Dani suggested. He ignored that. “So what’s the plan for today?”

  Ben glanced at his watch and leaped off the bed. “The plan is for me to move my arse because I’m going to be late. Léo and I are going for brunch at the yacht club.”

  There was silence down the line, and Ben grinned smugly as he headed for the bathroom. “Shocked silent, are you?”

  “The yacht club?” Dani practically screeched. “Oh my God, does he have a yacht?”

  Ben paused in adjusting the shower temperature. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “You should. And then text me the answer. And find out which yacht club. And I haven’t forgotten that we didn’t talk about Malik. I read his Wikipedia page too, so I have questions.”

  “He was nice. Funny. Not as intense as Léo,” Ben said, dropping his pants and stretching. Then he remembered how much the pants had cost, picked them up off the floor, and went to lay them neatly on the bed. He took his shirt off while he was there. “Okay, Dani, I need to shower, but I’ll call you later… well, maybe tomorrow. We’ll see.”

  “Text me so I know you’re okay,” she said, and he felt a rush of affection.

  “I will. Love you.” He ended the call on her kissy noises and went to shower.

  Another day with Léo awaited.

  Chapter Seven

  BEN thought he was handling the yacht club pretty well. He hadn’t tripped, walked into anything, dropped anything, or said anything stupid since they’d arrived half an hour ago. Léo had given him a brief tour of the facilities—and oh my God, he’d had no idea rich people actually lived like this—before they’d settled at a table overlooking the marina and ordered brunch. And drinks, because apparently it was expected to drink alcohol with breakfast on a weekday when you were at a private club in Monaco.

  Who knew?

  Ben tried to ignore that tiny niggling voice at the back of his mind that kept reminding him he was on vacation, but Léo did this all the time because he didn’t work. Every time Ben thought about not working, he remembered the long days of summer holidays as a kid, when the initial couple of weeks had been awesome but then the boredom had set in.

  Taking a deep breath, Ben looked around. The restaurant was elegant and expensive-looking, yet somehow still casual, and the view over the marina was spectacular. He was on holiday and had a gorgeous, sexy, nice guy to keep him company.

  Could he really ask for more?

  “Léo!” A tall, gorgeous blond man with the same presence as Léo came up to their table, grinning widely. Léo sighed.

  “Lucien,” he said in a resigned voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “The same thing as you, I imagine,” Blondie said. “In fact, I’ll join you, will I? You must be Ben. Lucien Morel,” he continued, and Ben realized with a start that the man had been speaking in English all along, albeit with a heavier French accent than either Léo or Malik. He looked at the man—Lucien—more closely. He was pretty sure he’d been one of the men with Léo in the Place du Casino the other night, one of the ones who didn’t go into the casino.

  Maybe.

  But how did he know Ben’s name?

  Lucien hesitated midway through grabbing a chair from another table. “We should probably move to a bigger table,” he suggested. “The three of us might just be able to squeeze in here, but it will be uncomfortable when Malik arrives.”

  Léo closed his eyes as Ben turned a bewildered gaze on him. “Malik’s coming?” he asked.

  “Why is Malik coming?” Léo asked Lucien in a long-suffering tone. Lucien looked around, and as if by magic a staff member appeared. Lucien rattled something off in French, and the man immediately began bustling around to move them to the next table over, which was set for four.

  “Malik’s coming because I called him,” Lucien told Léo, and went to slide into the chair the waiter was holding. Léo groaned, then met Ben’s gaze.

  “I can make them leave us alone,” he said. “They’ll still sit right there”—he jerked his head toward Lucien—“and watch us, but they won’t talk to us.”

  Ben laughed. He just couldn’t help it. Léo’s friends sounded kind of like Dani. “Nah,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

  Léo sighed again, then got up and held out a hand. “Come on, then,” he said, sounding like they were off to face a firing squad.

  Ben took his hand, and in moments they were settled again at t
he new table, the waiter having ferried their drinks across for them.

  “You’ve ordered, yes?” Lucien asked, his attention on the menu in his hands. Léo just glared at him, so Ben said, “Yes,” and Lucien nodded. He gave his order to the waiter, hesitated, then called the man back and ordered for Malik as well.

  “Otherwise he steals off everyone’s plates,” he told Ben. “He has no patience. He always orders the same thing here, anyway.”

  Ben bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

  “So!” Lucien sat back. “You’re Léo’s little bunny.”

  Ben blinked. What?

  “There’s Malik,” Léo said, an edge to his tone that made Ben look at him in surprise, but Léo’s attention was focused on his cousin as Malik crossed the room toward them. He slid into the last empty chair and grinned at Léo.

  “Romantic brunch at the club?”

  “Not anymore,” Léo grumbled.

  Malik laughed. “It’s better that we’re here to talk you up to Ben, anyway,” he said, winking at Ben, who felt his cheeks getting hot.

  “Ooh, he blushes!” Lucien exclaimed, and then jumped. Based on the glare he sent at Léo, Ben guessed Léo had just kicked him. He reached over and put his hand on Léo’s thigh, because gallantry like that deserved a reward. Léo laid a hand on his, but continued to glare at his friend.

  “Lucien,” Ben said, in an attempt to distract them all, “do you live here in Monaco too?”

  Lucien tore his gaze away from Léo’s and smiled at Ben, his blue eyes dancing once more. “No,” he said. “Not all the time. I live in Paris, but I visit here often. After all, two of my dearest friends live here.”

  “Lucien went to school with Léo and me,” Malik told Ben. “Well, for a year or so, anyway. Where’s the waiter? I need a menu.” He looked around.

  “No, you don’t,” Lucien said. “I ordered for you.”

  Malik frowned. “What did you do that for?” he demanded. “How could you possibly know what I wanted to eat?”

  Léo snorted. “Please, Malik. Even if Lucien hadn’t ordered for you, you wouldn’t have needed the menu. Every time we have breakfast here, you get the same thing.”

  “I do not!”

  Lucien laughed, and Léo raised an eyebrow. Malik pouted, and it was so different from his usually arrogant expression that Ben wanted to hug him. “Well, maybe this time I wanted something different,” he protested.

  Two waiters approached the table and set their food down. Malik looked at his plate and sighed. “I hate when you’re right,” he said, and picked up his fork. Ben grinned at his own delicious-looking food, but when he tried to move his hand from Léo’s leg, he found it firmly caught in the other man’s grip. He turned to look at Léo, but Léo was forking up his quiche, his attention seemingly split between his plate and the good-natured bickering still going on between Malik and Lucien. Ben tugged lightly at his hand, but Léo was definitely not letting go, even as he pretended nothing was happening.

  “Is everything all right, Ben?” Malik asked, and Ben started, whipping his head around to look across the table. His cheeks got hot.

  “Yes, fine.” He grabbed his fork, thankful that he didn’t actually need both hands to eat his crepes.

  “So,” Lucien said, “Malik tells me you’ve been traveling through Europe. Where’s your next stop?”

  Ben swallowed a bite. “Italy,” he said. “I’m starting in Milan, then working my way south down the west side to Sicily. I’ll come back up to Venice, and then after that I’m headed to Switzerland.”

  Lucien tipped his head to the side and studied Ben. “I don’t know you well—”

  “Or at all,” Léo interrupted dryly, and Malik chuckled.

  “—but I think you’ll like Venice best.”

  “Why’s that?” Ben asked, fascinated by this almost serious side of a man who’d seemed to be constant merriment.

  “It’s both ridiculously fanciful and extremely practical. You’ll see,” he promised, and then grinned, the cheeky side back. “It’s also best visited in company. You should meet him there,” he said to Léo.

  Yes! something in Ben cried, and he was really glad Léo had discouraged Lucien from commenting on his blushes, because he was pretty sure his face was lobster red. “I’m sure Léo’s been before,” he muttered. “Anyway, you went to school with these two? Was that before or after they stole the headmaster’s car to go and buy cigarettes?”

  “Oh, before,” Lucien said immediately, smiling, although he had a curious expression on his face. “I was with them for that.”

  “I meant to ask yesterday, but forgot,” Ben went on, feeling as though Léo’s gaze was burning into the side of his face, “do any of you still smoke?”

  Malik shouted with laughter, and Ben blinked. It seemed an extreme reaction to the question.

  Lucien shook his head. “None of us smoked then,” he said. “It was more by way of a….” He frowned and said something to Léo in French.

  “A prank,” Léo supplied. Ben turned to look at him, glad that the heat in his cheeks had subsided. “Buying cigarettes, which were strictly forbidden at that school, was just a way of making sure everyone knew we had taken the car.” He squeezed Ben’s hand, and warmth flowed into Ben’s chest. It felt so good to sit there holding Léo’s hand.

  He was pretty sure he’d be staying in Monaco a bit longer than planned. All he had to do was find a way to broach that with Léo without sounding like a clingy, romantic sap. After all, they’d known each other less than forty-eight hours.

  Almost as though he’d read Ben’s mind, Lucien asked, “When do you go to Italy?”

  Ben hesitated and wished he could fight off the heat creeping up from his collar. “Well,” he began, “I’m supposed to leave in two days. But nothing’s really set in stone. Dani and I put together an itinerary, but didn’t actually book anything, just in case I changed my mind about where I wanted to go or how long I wanted to stay.” There, that was sufficiently vague. It told them what his plans were while making it clear he was open to staying longer. Right?

  “Only two more days?” Lucien said, shooting a glance at Léo. “You should stay longer than that. Malik said you’ve been traveling for a while. You need some time to relax. Another week, at least. Don’t you think?” He turned to Malik, hands spread wide, and Malik agreed enthusiastically. Ben couldn’t help but notice that Léo remained silent.

  “So you’re staying, then,” Lucien announced. “Did you have plans for today? We should go out on the water.”

  “Um….” Ben carefully avoided looking at Léo.

  “The water is a good idea,” Léo declared. He squeezed Ben’s hand again. “Part of experiencing life in Monaco,” he told him, and Ben smiled and nodded, his heart clenching helplessly.

  TWO hours later, propped on a sun lounger on the upper deck (because of course there was more than one deck) of Malik’s yacht, with a martini in his hand and a hot billionaire beside him, Ben decided that he could probably get used to this life. The sun was shining—not too hot, but deliciously warm—and Malik’s yacht came equipped with not just a captain, but also two stewards to serve their every whim. Snacks and drinks had been in constant supply. The ocean sparkled as they cruised along, the color impossibly blue, and Ben sipped from his glass.

  “Having fun?” Léo asked lazily, and Ben turned his head to smile at him.

  “Oh yeah. You were right, this is definitely a new experience I didn’t want to miss.”

  “I should think not,” Lucien said, coming out on the deck and dropping into a chair a few feet away. “Where’s Malik?”

  Léo waved a hand toward where Malik was propped against the railing, talking on the phone. “One of his women called. I think he’s been trying to shake her off lately, but you know Malik. He can’t be rude to a woman.”

  Ben wasn’t sure whether to be aghast that Malik apparently had multiple women that he “shook off,” or reassured that he couldn’t be rude to women. In t
he end, he decided that since he wasn’t a woman and thus wasn’t affected by either circumstance, he didn’t care. He took another sip of his martini and wondered whether that was helping him to not care.

  Malik ended his call and joined them, and a moment later one of the stewards appeared as if by magic with fresh drinks for them all.

  “So, Ben,” Lucien said, “what do you do when you’re not traveling the world?”

  “That’s most of the time,” Ben admitted on a laugh. “The world traveling has only been the last few months. Before that, I hadn’t gone farther from Australia than Bali. But to answer your question, I’m a nurse.”

  “Oh.” Lucien sounded surprised. “In a hospital?”

  Ben shook his head. “No. Well, not anymore. I do private nursing. Basically, I look after people in their own homes.”

  Lucien tipped his head forward and studied Ben over his sunglasses. “That must be interesting. Do you live in the house with them?”

  “Sometimes. I did for my last job, but some of the other ones, especially when the patient has family living with them, I don’t need to.” Ben thought fondly of Mrs. K. and her horror when her grandson had suggested moving in to “help out.” It had only been the insistence that she paid Ben to look after her already and wouldn’t want to deprive him of his income—which had made Ben struggle to hide his laughter—that had convinced the young man his assistance wasn’t needed.

  “Are you backpacking, then?” Malik asked, his brow furrowed. “Where are you staying?” Unsaid but implied was that there weren’t any backpacker hostels in Monaco—not the supercheap kind, anyway.

  “At the Fairmont.” At their clear surprise, Ben grinned. “I’m not backpacking.”

  “Clearly not.” Lucien’s curiosity was obvious in his voice. “Well, I’m going to hope we’ve already achieved friendship and ask an unspeakably rude question, then.”

  Ben laughed outright. He really liked these guys. “You’re wondering how I can afford this trip, right? Because three months in Europe staying at hotels like the Fairmont doesn’t come cheap, and nurses don’t get paid that much.”