Scent of Desire : A Parisian Exotica: An Ultra Luxury Billionaire Romance

by Amanda Horton

  “You okay?”

  “You’re good at this.”

  “Shiatsu massage. I have it done after shows. Reduces the stress of touring.”

  “I’m going to call you Mr. Magic Hands.”

  “Oh, so you think that is good?”

  He lowered my feet. My mind protested the loss of his hands.

  “Sit up.”

  In my relaxed state, I almost couldn’t, but he helped me and then settled behind me. Without a sound he started working my shoulders, loosening them with his skillful touch. His fingers wandered up my neck.

  “You are tight. It’s a wonder you don’t have headaches.”

  Rory’s ministrations made me light and floaty. I relaxed into him. So much so, that it wasn’t until he shifted that I felt his hard cock pressing into my back.

  He drew in a sharp breath.

  “You are so sexy,” he whispered into my ear.

  I am going to Hell because I can’t stop thinking sexy thoughts about my clients. All they have to do is manhandle me a little bit, and I’m ready to go all the way. But right now, the front of the red duster pooled on either side and Rory is kneading my breasts with his hand. His touch is divine, and I’m in heaven. Both hands now command my nipples, and I arch my back in response. Can you come from a breast massage? I just might.

  The place between my legs throbs against my too tight jeans and I thrust my hips forward seeking friction. Rory’s hands kicked up the simmering sexual frustration of the past few days, and dear Lord I need it. Now. I want a man’s cock between my legs, and damn it, if Rory Holmes will give me his, I’m going to take it. I twist my head toward his offering my lips, and he lowered his head.

  The doorbell sounds, startling both of us.

  “What the hell,” I roared. “What is it now?”

  “Don’t answer,” said Rory.

  And at first I’m tempted, but then someone pounds on the door with the force of a battering ram.

  “I’ll make whoever it is go away,” I said. Pushing away from the couch, I stalked to the front door and peeked at the security screen there.

  What the? Cole Kane pounded on the door, and shockingly, Jersey Dys gets out of a black Jaguar, and then lastly, Tobias steps out of his gray Aston Martin Vanquish.

  “Holmes, you bastard,” said Cole. “Get the hell out here.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tobias

  I dropped off Kane who promptly got into his vehicle and tore out of his garage like a man possessed. If he were going after Dys, this would not end well. All of Jacine’s hard work would burn away into the smog-filled LA air, leaving Alexander and Wells the laughing stock of LA.

  I heard what my friend at the company who books the Bowl act said. The whole thing at Angelo’s made for interesting press, but the only people who benefited were the newspapers. Rock stars were known to be volatile, and a certain amount of mischief was considered colorful. But playing the public at large at risk? That made any band a bad bet.

  And Jacine had three of them on her hands.

  Something wasn’t right, though. Kane wasn’t heading to Dys's house. And as we traveled the torturous curves of the roads of the Hollywood Hills, I finally realized where we were headed.

  Jacine’s.

  This was outrageous. What did he hope to accomplish there? I notice him standing too close to Jacine, but then again, she was just that beautiful.

  But the fight with Dys was over-the-top. And now he was headed into more trouble.

  I swear. If he does anything to upset Jacine, I’ll pound him into the ground.

  But even more incredible is the fact that another car sits in the driveway, a god damn red Ferrari, the one that Rory Holmes drove. What the hell was Rory doing here?

  Stepping out of my car, I hear Kane knocking on the door and shouting for Holmes to come out of the house. Dys stood to the side looking equal parts amused and pissed, though I don’t know why.

  The door jerked open, and an incredulous Jacine stood framed in the doorway, and Kane stepped forward. She was one woman facing two guys not known for their emotional stability and my long-buried protective instincts surged, and I tore down that driveway to the two men.

  I skidded forward on the white gravel when I heard her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Holmes,” called Kane.

  “Cole! Stop this.”

  “Don’t be like this, baby. You don’t know this snake like I do. Did he pull the massaging the feet thing on you?”

  “Baby?” sputtered Dys.

  Kane glanced over his shoulder.

  “Sure. In case you haven’t noticed this woman is fine.”

  “Oh, I noticed, asshole. So stay away.”

  “Me? I’m here first.”

  Jacine stared at both of them in disbelief and raked her silky hair with her hands.

  “What the fuck?” said Holmes as he came to stand behind Jacine.

  “You!” said Kane shaking his finger at Holmes. “Get the fuck out here and keep your hands off her.”

  Holmes's eyes blazed with anger. “And who are you to say anything about it?”

  A sick feeling swirls in my gut as I realize that Jacine is in the middle of a dangerous situation. These dickheads go off before the starting gun. And the stakes for Jacine were very high. The whole focus of her plan to rehabilitate the PR of these guys was to get them to co-operate on one project. In a town where one misstep meant millions in lost revenue, her failure would take a big chunk of the armor and cachet of Alexander and Wells.

  Franklin would be furious. And that was the last thing my health challenged friend or his overextended daughter needed.

  I consider my moves, because as volatile as this situation is, I could make it worse by stepping in. Working with creatives I learned that the stress of having to perform 24-7, to present an image that might not match the inner man lends volatility to the public persona. Only Jersey, by his father’s long association with the PR firm, knows that I mean no harm.

  But before I can decide anything, Jacine pulls up her five foot, seven-inch frame and fire flashes through her eyes.

  “All of you, get off my property now!”

  I groan because this is not the way to treat three impetuous rock stars. She knows this, but I see the stress in her eyes too, and for the first time in my life I see Jacine Alexander unravel.

  “But, sweetheart,” said Dys.

  “Sweetheart?” protested Kane.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Want to make something of it?”

  “Who the fuck cares!” snapped Jacine.

  Holmes put his hands on Jacine’s shoulders, which was a mistake.

  “Get your hands off me!” yelled Jacine. And though the scrub and trees of the hills usually sop up sounds, her high voice reverberated against the walls of the slopes of the Santa Monica Mountains.

  I groan. There is a reason why you usually can hear a pin drop in the Hollywood Hills. It’s because the neighbors, sensitive to the star-studded antics of LA, keep things eerie quiet. You might hear traffic on the road, or the occasional barking of a dog, but otherwise you would think you were in the middle of the country, which we were not.

  It was suburbia. Oh, decidedly upscale, but Mr. And Mrs. America, just the same. Stars live here on sufferance.

  But do Kane, Dys, and Holmes recognize that? No. And before I know it Holmes pushes past Jacine and shoves Kane, who falls into Dys, who pushes him back into Holmes.

  And that’s when the fight starts.

  “Stop!” screamed Jacine, but that only made things worse. Giving lie to reports that LA police are slow, on this day within five minutes a police car pulls into the driveway flashing its lights.

  It didn’t take long for our worse fears to manifest and the Terrible Trio, bruised, sweaty, and dirty were hauled off to the local lock-up.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jacine

  Hell.

  I watched Cole, Jersey, and Rory cuffe
d and placed into police cruisers, and I watch my career drive away with them. Level-headed, Tobias put his arm around my shoulder.

  “We’ll fix this.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said. Never before in my life did I taste a defeat as bitter as this.

  “Jacy,” he said. “If anyone could, you can.”

  “This is all my fault,” I groan.

  “How’s that?” he said gently. Tobias guided me back into the house, and it was good to have a sturdy shoulder I could lean against. I needed this calm, reliability, stability. Everything Tobias had to offer.

  “They. I. Oh, I don’t know.” How can I explain that I crossed the line with not just one but all three of my clients? Sure, shenanigans like this were commonplace in Star land, but not at Alexander and Wells.

  “Are you trying to tell me you think you led them on?”

  Leave it to Tobias to get to the heart of the matter. I swallowed hard, not able to think a clear path out of this mess.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “These guys are used to getting whatever woman they want at the drop of a hat. The problem is, as I see it, no one got anything they wanted.”

  “But I shouldn’t have—it was inappropriate—” I can’t even speak in complete sentences. “When the press—” My voice failed again. I am a grown woman, used to making multi-million dollar decisions and three overgrown teenagers have stolen my ability to think constructively.

  Tobias lead me to the sofa, the scene of my last crime, and I groaned again. He kept his arm firmly around me and it was a comfort to have his strong and familiar shoulder to lean on.

  “Jacy, these guys are the masters of inappropriate,” he said. “They knew what they were doing all along. The problem is, Princess, that they don’t know you. They don’t know how difficult relationships are for you since your mother left your father.”

  Oh god. Not that again. But he was right. My world crashed and burned when my mother took off with an asshole movie producer. Her overdose at his hands was the icing on the cake. He got ten years in jail. I got a lifetime of doubting my choices in men because any boyfriend I had was just like that jerk—too much glitz and glamour. The words “just like your mother” didn’t play well with me because it held the possibility that I could fail as badly as her. So I had sworn off men and buried myself in my work. But apparently, the magic spell of duty and responsibility had melted under the glitter and tinsel of three rock stars; as it would have with my mother. And I knew better. I fucking did.

  “But I should have—”

  “Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. You’ll get on the phone, call your team, and start the next round of spinning things.”

  “But if they go to jail—”

  “Might be the best thing for them. Maybe I’ll ask the judge to try them together and then ask for work release on the day of the concert. I can see it now. All three of them delivered to the Bowl in their LA county prison garb. We’ll call the concert “Work Release.”

  The idea was so ridiculous I laughed through my incipient tears. But it was also genius. I could see the press releases now.

  “You know what? That idea is so outrageous; it’s a winner. But it’s a misdemeanor charge, at best. They can’t get much time for it.”

  “You’d be surprised. Up to a year in County Jail and a thousand dollar fine.”

  “I should know that, damn it.”

  “You are being too hard on yourself, Jacine. Your father is in the hospital and you took on three impossible clients.”

  The scent of him, flannel wool and his woodsy cologne wafted in a comforting haze. He kissed the top of my head and instinctively I leaned into him. Tobias, handsome, strong, reliable Tobias held me and soothed away my fears. It was a damned hard couple days and on top of that my sexual frustration threatened to send me over the edge. I could still feel Rory’s hands on my breasts performing magic on my body. The slightest touch of Tobias’s fingers on my thigh sends tingles through me that ignite my desire.

  I made the slightest of gasps, and Tobias lowered his lips to mine. Every fantasy I ever had about Tobias flashed through my mind, how I wanted him to hold me and kiss me drove me to get closer to him. Shifting my body, I turn toward him and slipped my hand to his tie and tugged his head closer to mine.

  With infinite tenderness his lips touched mine. And yet, it was filled with such passion my mouth burned with the taste of his mouth. The bristles of his five o’clock shadow scraped my chin sparking a shower of tingles through me.

  Tobias ran his fingers on either side of my head and held my mouth to his, kissing me with such tenderness that my heart thawed and opened up to him. This was beyond bodies touching, or doing the right things to stoke desire. It was the sharing of two hearts and it took my breath away.

  “Why,” he asked, “would you want any of those boys when you could have a real man?”

  I gasped at his words. Why would I? Why wouldn’t I? Why not Tobias and not any of them? But I can’t answer. My mind jumbles with images of all four men, and to tell you the truth, they all stun me in their own way. They all had qualities I liked and admired, Cole’s romantic nature hidden under his balls-to-the-wall attitude, Jersey with his artistic sense, Rory’s pragmatic gentleness, and Tobias’s steadiness. Like a potato chip, I couldn’t have just one.

  I was very confused.

  My phone rang to save me from answering Tobias’s question and desperately I reached for it in the pocket of my duster.

  “Leave it,” he breathed and then kissed me again with a kiss so sweet I might go into diabetic shock. Oh, damn, oh damn, I am going straight to hell. I know this and I don’t even believe in fiery damnation.

  “It might be the hospital,” I gasped.

  Sensibly, he nodded and pulled away. But it was the one call I did not want to take, but absolutely had to. What if something was wrong?

  “It is my father.”

  Tobias’s face turned a peculiar shade of white as if he was caught doing something wrong.

  “How are you doing, dad?”

  “Damn it, Jacine. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Dad, you shouldn’t get yourself excited.”

  “Excited? What the hell is this on the television about a fight at my house, and Kane, Dys and Holmes getting arrested?”

  I flushed embarrassed that I was making out with our business lawyer while my clients were jailed.

  “Um, well they all showed up here, and apparently they can’t be in the same space for ten minutes without turning on each other. Tobias and I were just discussing our next steps.

  “Marshall’s there? Put him on the line.”

  I held the phone out to Tobias. “My dad wants to talk to you.”

  Tobias put on his lawyer face while he held the phone to his ear.

  “Uh huh. Yes. Sure. I’ll get right on it.”

  He handed the phone back to me.

  “Handle it,” my father growled. And the line went dead.

  “Whoa,” I said. “I’ve never seen him this angry. Not even when I took his precious Jag without asking him when I was sixteen.”

  “Yes, I remember that. But this is different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “That was only a car. Today he thinks you crashed his reputation.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cole

  I screwed up. Not only am I sitting in this damned jail cell, but I am here with Dys and Holmes, the last two fucks I want to share a jail cell with. Jacine didn’t pick up on the one call I was allowed. Who the hell am I supposed to call now? I don’t have a business manager, and I burned the last set of friends I had with a stupid card game.

  Dys leaned back against the concrete eyeing me like I’m some jungle cat that could pounce on him at any moment. Holmes appeared to be meditating or some shit. Yeah. In a jail cell. He always was a little weird.

  And did I blame Dys for giving me the stink-eye? No. I screwed up the first best thing in my life with an asshole move. Now I sh
ot down the second best thing in my life with my impulsiveness. When was I going to learn?

  Boss lady is more than hot. She’s the one I’ve been looking for all this time and I didn’t even know it. Who’d have thought? I thought it was just a kiss. Wrong. As the old song goes, “I fooled around and fell in love.” Yeah, that’s right—love. The big L. The thing that shall not be named when bedding groupies.

  But Jacine was no groupie. She was fire and class, and power shaped in the body of a goddess. But the damndest thing is that Dys and Holmes zeroed in on her too. While I don’t like it one bit, I can’t blame them.

  But what the hell are we going to do?

  “Guys,” I said. “We need to talk.”

  Dys snorted. Holmes gazed at me with an eerie calm that sent creepy shivers through me.

  “I freely admit I’ve been an ass.”

  Holmes nodded. “Acknowledgment is the first step in wisdom.”

  Dys stared at me like he didn’t believe it.

  “I shouldn’t have been such a jerk about the music. I’ll have Marshall draw of papers giving back your rights to your share, Dys.”

  “Keep the music. It doesn’t matter.”

  “But I thought—“

  “Shit, Kane. You don’t get it. I don’t care about the music. I can make more of that. And I don’t care about the money—ditto.”

  “Ditto,” said Holmes sagely.

  “It’s because you treated me like shit that I’ve held a grudge. And I shouldn’t have done that either because that helped to get us into this mess. No man, what hurt was that I lost my friend, friends,” he said as he nodded his head at Holmes “And I’m too old to go making a bunch of new ones. But the point is I didn’t want to either, and that’s made me a hard man to live with.”

  “Same here,” I said. “I can’t keep a band worth shit.”

  “That’s true for me too,” said Holmes. “I don’t even speak to my band mates. I just sign the checks.”

  “And no one,” I said, “played as good together as we do.”