Nightclub Surprise

by Michelle Love

  “See you at eight a.m., then.

  The next morning when her doorbell rang, Shiloh felt a thrill go through her and she yanked the door open to see Benoit waiting with a smile on his face.

  “Good morning.”

  The soft growl of his voice made her heart beat faster. “Come on in,” she said, covering her sudden shyness. His big frame seemed to fill the small apartment. Liv stuck her head out of her bedroom and said hi to him, while giving Shiloh a conspiratorial look, and Shiloh suddenly remembered what her friend had said about Heloise having dated Benoit back in the day. Shoot. She didn’t have time to react though, as Heloise came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and stopped, gaping at Benoit.

  “Benoit … what are you doing here?”

  Benoit covered his shock well. “Just helping out Shiloh with her move.”

  Heloise turned unfriendly eyes on Shiloh. “Really?”

  Oh, dammit. Shiloh smiled brightly at her. “He’s a good friend.”

  Heloise gave Benoit a long look which he returned coolly. “Nice to see you again, Benoit.”

  Shiloh felt like she was intruding and moved away to give them some privacy. She could hear them talking quietly, from her position in the living room.

  “You look good, Heloise.”

  “You too, Benoit … a little more gray than when I last saw you.”

  Shiloh heard Benoit laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

  “How did you and Shiloh meet?”

  “Believe it or not, she came to my office to yell at me. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.”

  Shiloh smiled to herself. That was sweet. She strained her ears, trying to hear what Heloise was saying.

  “I always regret our break-up—how painful it was.”

  “Was it? I seem to remember us both deciding that we weren’t suited as lovers, just as friends.”

  Heloise sighed. “Still, it was a wrench.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Helly. I’m sure you have no trouble finding lovers.”

  “Hmm. Well, I’d better get dressed.”

  “Good to see you.”

  Shiloh pretended to be absorbed in packing her stuff when Benoit came into the living room. She looked up and smiled nonchalantly. “The movers will be here soon, so most of the stuff I need shifting is just some private items that I don’t trust them with. Like this fella.” She indicated her beloved dog, Beau, who was lying on top of a pile of boxes looking sulky. Benoit mussed his silky ears and Beau licked his hand.

  “Beautiful animal,” Benoit said admiringly, and was rewarded by Beau rolling onto his back and showing Benoit his furry belly.

  Shiloh laughed. “My dog is a slut,” she said with mock sadness.

  The move went off easily—and Shiloh was sure that Benoit had slipped the movers some extra money because all of her boxes reached her new apartment in record time and in pristine condition. Once there, she set Benoit to work unpacking her kitchen things while she dealt with her personal items.

  The apartment was tiny, her queen-sized bed seeming to take up a lot of the studio, but it was compact and homey. Beau dragged his dog bed to a corner of his choice, much to Benoit’s amusement.

  “I bet that dog is the most spoiled pooch in Paris,” he said, and Shiloh laughed.

  “Try in France,” she said, but stroked Beau’s silky head. “He is the love of my life, though.”

  “Lucky dog,” quipped Benoit, and she flushed. “Look, shall I go grab us some take-out and bring it back? If we keep going, you could be settled in by tonight.”

  Shiloh smiled at him gratefully. “That would be wonderful, thank you. But are you sure I’m not keeping you from a gala or a benefit, or one of your concubines?”

  Benoit grinned. “Oh, definitely, but I still prefer to be here with you. Give me an hour and we can eat.”

  While he was gone, Shiloh took advantage and grabbed a shower in her little bathroom, letting the hot water stream through her hair, feeling the dust and grubbiness wash away. A feeling of satisfaction had lodged in her stomach; she was home now.

  Benoit came back with fresh, warm bread and cheese, a bag of sweet, juicy peaches, and a bottle of cold white wine. They picnicked on the floor of her living area, leaning back against her bed and chatting. Shiloh was amazed that it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for this billionaire to be scooched down on the floor with her.

  By the time they had finished unpacking all her stuff, it was way after one a.m. Shiloh suddenly felt shy. “Look, I feel bad that I can’t offer you somewhere to sleep,” she said, nodding at the couch which Beau had decided to sleep on. Benoit shook his head, grinning.

  “Don’t worry, my place isn’t far.”

  “Thank you so much for today. I’d still be doing this next week if you hadn’t helped.”

  Benoit smiled at her. “It was no problem. I had fun. Hey...” He grinned as she looked at him askance. “Better than sitting in money meetings all day.”

  Shiloh had to concede that. “Well, anyway … look, are you free for dinner tomorrow? I’d like to cook you a meal to say thank you.”

  Benoit nodded. “That sounds wonderful.”

  She walked him to the door and he kissed her cheek, lingering only a beat too long. “Get some sleep, Shiloh. You look exhausted.”

  A few minutes later she was crawling into bed, Beau jumping up to snuggle next to her. She fell asleep almost immediately, but soon the dreams came, and in each and every one of them, Benoit Vaux was making sweet love to her.

  Alex had flown over from New York as soon as Maceo had called him about the website. Maceo had already called in the police, who were working with their American counterparts.

  “Miss Roy,” they had asked Orianthi again and again. “Do you know who would wish you harm?”

  Maceo had barely believed it when she refrained from telling them about her stepfather and it had been the cause of their first and only row to date.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell them about Janek?” Maceo had demanded, his green eyes flashing with disbelief and anger.

  Ori had stood her ground. “Because we both know this isn’t him. It can’t be. How the hell would he have known about Viola before I even met you?”

  Maceo had no argument for that, but he wasn’t mollified. “They could have at least questioned him.”

  “And given him another opportunity to play the concerned stepfather card? No, thank you.”

  Ori sighed to herself. But three days later, now it seemed, that Tyson had found out about it anyway. His statement to the press was full of platitudes and nauseating homilies, and Ori pushed away the newspaper in disgust.

  Since their row, she and Maceo had hardly spoken, but now she felt his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him. “Let’s not fight.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just scared.” He came to sit next to her, sliding his arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek. “Ti amo.”

  She nestled into his arms. “I was thinking … whoever is doing this, I don’t think it matters who I am to him. It’s not really me who is the target. You are. Or at least, you and the others. The Club. It’s too obvious.”

  “I agree. So does Alex; so do the police. The thing is … we’ve all obviously made bad decisions at one time or another, or had enemies. None of us think we’ve collectively screwed anyone over. So why target us?”

  Ori sighed. “Jealousy? The Midnight Club is a well-oiled machine.”

  “The Midnight Club is five friends who thought—back in their twenties—that they could rule the world. Some of us still think like that; some of us are happy with what we have.” Maceo smiled at her. “The club isn’t a club, Ori. It’s just us five brothers. There’s nothing to be envious of.” He kissed her gently. “But I can understand someone being jealous of what I have….”

  Ori smiled, but her mind was still racing. “Is it because I look like Viola?”

  Maceo’s smile faded. “I don’t know
, bella.”

  “But I’m not her,” she said quietly. “Anyone who spent five minutes with me could tell.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither. Hey, look, let’s go meet Alex for dinner and forget all this bullshit. Are we going to let one asshole ruin our happiness? I’ll tell you a secret, mio caro.”

  Ori chuckled at his cheeky grin. “And what’s that, Mr. Bartoli?”

  “I have a lot of money. A lot. Which means the best protection in the world. No one’s getting near you, or us. So we can go on, live our lives, and enjoy what we have.”

  Ori kissed him. “I wouldn’t change a thing about what we have, Maceo. I only wish I had thought to bring AJ back here with us.”

  Maceo nodded, his eyes sad. “I know.” His arms tightened around her. “The police will find out who did this, mio caro. Alex is like a dog with a bone with the investigation. In the meantime, we won’t let it affect our happiness.”

  “Agreed.” She pressed her mouth to his. “I love you, Maceo. Take me to bed.”

  Grinning, he did as she asked and as they made love, Maceo’s huge cock driving into her, Ori knew that, together, they would be able to defeat any problems that came their way.

  Alex Milland sat in countless meetings with police both in Italy and New York, but none of them could find out who was behind the website, and who was threatening Maceo’s new love. Alex was frustrated. Maceo could hire more and more protection, but it was still too easy to get to Ori, Alex thought.

  When he returned to New York, he went to see his half-sister, Netta. Much younger than Alex, she was an undergrad at Columbia, and the offspring of Alex’s late father and a Mexican artist from the Bronx. Netta had a fractious relationship with the Milland half of the family—from a young age she had been fiercely feminist, much to Alex’s father’s disgust. She and Alex also had times where they didn’t communicate for long periods, the difference being that Netta adored Alex and he adored her, but they shared a common trait of not needing to be around people all of the time.

  His sister greeted him now at the doorway of her dormitory. Netta was damned if she would join a sorority. Vapid narcissists, she had declared the students who joined them. Netta got away with her strident opinions because of her beauty, her spirit, and her incredible brain, which made sure she was top of the class of every subject she took. Her dark eyes flashed with defiance, her smooth café-au-lait skin, full red lips, and curvy physique made her popular too—with men and women.

  Alex kissed her on the cheek. “You hungry, sis?”

  “Always.”

  They went to a local burger joint and stuffed their faces with patties laden with grilled onions and Swiss cheese. Netta moaned with delight at the taste and Alex had to laugh. Netta always made his heart lift.

  “So, how goes things, bro?” Netta wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

  “So-so,” Alex said honestly. “Still no progress on the case—and now it looks like Maceo’s girlfriend is being targeted.”

  “Maceo has a girlfriend?” Netta looked astonished, “He’s made an actual commitment?”

  Alex grinned. “He has, as amazing as it seems.” Maceo and Netta, out of all of his friends, got along famously, kidding around with each other constantly. “She’s lovely, too. Here.”

  He handed her his phone, showing her a photo he had taken of Maceo and Ori. He watched his sister as she studied the picture, wondering if she too would pick up on Ori’s resemblance to Viola. From Netta’s expression, he guessed she did.

  “Woah.”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  Netta handed his phone back. “That’s some freaky shit. And she’s being threatened too?”

  Alex nodded. “It’s a fucking mess. Anyway … distract me, please. What’s up with you?”

  Netta rolled her eyes. “My life is classes followed by classes with food in between.”

  Alex grinned. “No hook-ups?”

  “None worth mentioning.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Word. I’m the proverbial dull Jack, all work, no play. Hey, when is the Club getting together again? If they’re bringing girlfriends, I could be your date and finally discover what you get up to together.”

  Alex laughed. “I can assure you, Netta, when you reach 39, the most exciting thing you can think of to do is sit around with a bottle of scotch, talking about nothing much and still getting an early night.”

  “Party animals,” she said mockingly, and Alex shrugged good-naturedly.

  “That’s us. Look, I have to get back … you okay for money?”

  Netta rolled her eyes. Their father might have cut her out of his will, but Alex had still given her half of everything he inherited. She hugged her half-brother now. “You’re the best, you know?”

  “I know. You’re a lucky girl ...” Alex chuckled and Netta joined in. She thumped him playfully.

  “Get out of here.”

  He had almost reached the door when she caught up with him. “Alex, wait.”

  He looked down at her, his eyes curious. Her expression was serious for once.

  “Alex … you know I loved Viola, right? Like, she was the perfect person for you, and she was like my sister?”

  “I do,” he said softly, nodding. “I do.”

  Netta nodded. “She would want you to be happy, Alex. Try and find her again. Viola would want that.”

  Alex smiled, but there was no happiness in his face. “I can’t, Netta. Not until I know. Not until I know who did this to her. I can’t.”

  Alex made it back to his car before he broke. He pummeled the steering wheel and screamed out his pain, knowing that in the underground parking garage where he was, no one could see it.

  He wouldn’t be able to do as Netta asked until he got Viola out of his head. An idea had been forming in his mind for the past few weeks, but it was so crazy, so out of character, so wrong, that he had kept shoving it away.

  Viola.

  Ori … she looked so much like his lost love that he could not stop thinking about her and yet … he could see that Maceo—playful, boyish, good-hearted Maceo—was deeply in love with the young woman. Could he really break his brother’s heart by going after Ori? By trying to seduce her? He had no doubt that Ori loved Maceo as much as he did her.

  God, what a fucking mess. But over the next few days he couldn’t help returning to the idea that maybe, just maybe, if he could make Ori his, then maybe he would be able to get over Viola.

  Am I cracking up? One morning, a week after his lunch with Netta, he gazed in the mirror and paused, mid-shave. You’re obsessing over your friend’s lover. Stop this. He told himself over and over to stop thinking about her …

  When he got into the office that day, he nodded to his assistant who had brought him coffee, when she asked him if he need anything. “Yes,” he said, and his voice was steady. “I need an open-ended plane ticket.”

  His P.A. took out her notepad. “Where to, boss?”

  He hesitated only for a beat. “Venice. As soon as possible.”

  When Maceo had suggested a week in the south of the country, Ori had readily agreed. A secluded villa on the cliffs overlooking Naples had been their base for the past two days and now, in the late afternoon heat, Ori lay stretched entirely naked on a lounger on the little balcony. She was half-dozing, her head resting on her arm, but she felt his presence as Maceo came out onto the balcony. From the pause, she knew he was gazing at her, taking in her naked body, and she couldn’t help but feel wildly sexy because of his scrutiny. A second later she felt something drop between her breasts. Scented oil. It snaked down her belly and into her navel.

  She smiled and opened her eyes as Maceo followed the trail of the oil with his fingers. Over the last few days, his swarthy skin had tanned to a deep copper, only accenting the lightness of his green eyes. He was mesmerizing, and mesmerized in equal parts as his fingers smoothed the oil over her skin. Ori met his gaze and slowly spread h
er legs so that he could follow the oil trail down. Maceo grinned almost triumphantly as he found her clit and rubbed it gently between his finger and thumb. He was wearing only a pair of white pants, and she could see the bulge of his erection. She slid her hand over it, feeling the heat from it in her palm, stroking him through his pants.

  Maceo’s middle finger slipped inside her, caressing, and he bent his head to kiss her breasts, her belly, his tongue circling her navel and dipping into it as it quivered under his touch. Ori unzipped his pants and Maceo stood to remove them, standing in all his priapic glory. His cock stood proud, thick and long against his belly.

  “You want me?” he said softly, and she nodded. He covered her body with his, tugging her legs around his waist and gently sliding all the way into her, filling her cunt until she gasped. He smiled down at her. “Do you like me to fuck you, pretty girl?” He thrust his hips hard and pinned her hands above her head.

  Ori gazed up at him as they made love, the oil on her body making it easy for them to move even on the cramped sun lounger. Maceo got rough. Goddamn, she loved it when he did this, wrestling her onto the sunbaked tiles and fucking her again and again until she was completely at his mercy.

  It was nighttime by the time they finally rested. Ori, catching her breath, grinned over at Maceo. “You drive me crazy, Maceo Bartoli.”

  He laughed. “Caro, voglio essere sempre dentro di te. I always want to be inside you.” He rolled onto his side, propped himself up on his elbow, and looked down at her. “Ori, marriage is never something I have aspired to, nor perhaps even believed in—until now. I’m not asking yet.I don’t want to frighten you off or rush things. But is it something you desire?”

  Ori was taken aback. “Maceo ... the only way I can think to answer that is to tell you that I want you. A piece of paper or a ceremony won’t change how I feel about you or us. I love you. That is all I need.”

  He bent his head to kiss her. “Then I am happy. Still,” he said. “I would like to make a commitment to you, just a gesture to tell you that I belong to you.”

  Ori smiled. “Just your words are enough for me.”