The Billionaire Bull
Page 65
This time, she laughed louder, and then she groaned as the muscles in her stomach tensed painfully. “I’m not that kind of girl, Marc. But if it makes you feel any better, we can spoon now.”
He chuckled at that, lifting her off the counter and carrying her in his arms toward the bedroom. She could tell he struggled, his steps uncoordinated and his arms shaking beneath her weight, but she appreciated it, knowing her own knees would never support her. They fell into bed, and she snuggled back against him, letting him drape an arm and a leg over her. He buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck before yawning.
“Goodnight, Reesa,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, Marc. And thank you.” Reesa yawned, too, her eyes too heavy to open again. She knew in that moment she was too deep to let him go now. After tonight, if Marc decided to cast her aside, her heart would shatter because she had fallen in love with him, and there was no turning back.
She could only hope he felt the same about her.
Chapter 8
Reesa hadn't considered the backlash of such public accusations on her business. She lost several potential clients, who didn't express particular concern over the allegations, but she could tell by the looks on their faces when she met with them and the immediate fallout of calls canceling other meetings.
She didn’t say anything about it at first, hoping things would level off when the sensationalism died down. She didn’t need Marc coming in with some gallant offer of money to help her out or charity jobs he talked wealthy friends into just to generate income. And she certainly didn’t want Kylie to step in. her best friend would offer to share her apartment, and that would be awkward. Reesa still didn’t feel very comfortable at Marc’s swanky bachelor pad, and she couldn’t imagine getting intimate with him when she had a roommate.
But when it came time to pay rent and she had to pull from her meager savings a second month in a row to make the bills, Reesa started to worry. Luckily, not all of her clients abandoned her, and she caught a couple of extra jobs from obviously sympathetic women and even got hired to put together a Halloween party for the women’s shelter. Otherwise, she might have considered giving up. It still seemed like a pretty solid prospect. She had a degree, so she could get a job just about anywhere. This was New York, after all.
After that, Marc noticed her anxiety and wouldn’t let the matter rest until she told him what was going on. He took her to a café, bought her a mocha with a triple shot of espresso, and demanded answers. Blinking back tears, she explained the situation. “I don’t want handouts, Marc, so don’t even try. I’ll do what I have to do to make ends meet.”
“Absolutely not,” he denied. “You’ve built your business from the ground up, and you’ve put too much time and effort into it to turn away now. Why don’t you let me invest in the business, give you some capital until things get going right again?” He smiled mischievously. “Or, you could always move in with me.”
Reesa stared at him across the table, her mocha forgotten. “I told you I didn’t want charity.”
“It’s not charity, Reesa. We spend most of our free time together anyway, sleep in the same bed as often as possible. I want the extras. I want to know that, when I come home from a trip, you’re there. I want the smell of your shampoo in my bathroom.” He reached out and took her hands in his. “I don’t want to waste time going back and forth. I want to share my space with you.”
Alarms sounded in Reesa’s head. They’d been seeing each other for less than three months. The last time she’d jumped into a relationship headfirst so quickly, it had ended in disaster, and she’d nearly died. Marc wasn’t Ethan, but she still had her reservations. “Isn’t it a little soon?” she squeaked.
But Marc laughed and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I thought it was men who had the problems with commitment.” Reesa started to protest, but he shook his head. “I know that’s not it. I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t like my place. What if I gave you free reign to redecorate however you liked? I love your style, and I trust you. Besides, I’d do just about anything to get you to move in with me.”
She snorted. “You better watch it, or I’ll think you engineered this whole media frenzy around my past just so I’d be in this situation.” He looked so sincerely offended she burst out laughing. “I couldn’t believe that of you if I wanted to, Marc.” She gave him a genuine smile, despite her heart racing. The part of her she’d buried, the part that knew she was falling in love with him, was eager to accept the offer, thrilled it had been made to start with. But the part that suffered at the hands of another man had oxygen breathed back into it, and now, it cowered from Marc and his excitement.
“I know it’s a huge leap of faith,” Marc said, his voice softer now, more coaxing and gentle. “But we’re good together, Reesa. I know I’m better with you than I ever was without you. And think about being able to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about one of us rushing off and leaving the other one behind or hurrying them out the door.”
That part, at least, sounded good. Reesa hated rushing Marc out of her apartment in the mornings when she went to work and felt equally guilty about leaving him there to fend for himself. But she had to ask herself if she was really ready for this. In her mind, it was a major commitment, and she refused to enter into it lightly. Did Marc understand what he was asking? Trying to quell her nerves, Reesa took a deep breath. “If we do this, it’s like a binding contract for me. It kicks everything into high gear for me.”
Marc’s smile widened, the dimple deeper, and his eyes twinkled. “Did you not think I was dead serious about us before? I’ve been crazy about you from the start, and this has always been serious for me, Reesa.”
He was crazy about her. But he didn’t say he loved her. Could that possibly be the same thing? She shouldn’t get ahead of herself; she needed to focus on making a decision. Being able to redecorate certainly brightened the prospect. “Here’s the deal, then, Marc. I refuse to live with you for free. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time now, and I won’t become dependent on someone else.”
Spreading his hands in a gesture of surrender, he said, “I would never want to take away your independent spirit. I love you self-sufficient you are.” There it was again. She had to stop reading into things. “But when someone cares about you, it’s okay to lean on them for support. We’ll work something out. You can buy all the food and household supplies or something. But you’re not going to strain yourself, either. It’s time you let someone pamper you a little.”
He stood, reaching for her hand, and she took it, letting him help her to her feet. “Where are we going? I haven’t finished my coffee.”
“Bring it with you. I’m excited. I want to help you pack.” He looked like a little boy on the first day of school, and even if it felt like things were spinning out of control, she couldn’t help but smile and feel a little giddy, his mood contagious.
Outside, she tugged on him, stopping him in his tracks. Growing serious and perhaps a bit sentimental, she locked gazes with him, hypnotized by his deep green eyes. “Thank you, Marc.”
He combed tresses of hair behind her ear and kissed her softly. “You don’t need to thank me.” Pulling back just a little, he cupped her cheek in his palm, his expression strained and his eyes more intense than she’d ever seen them. It took her aback, and she held her breath, wondering what was on his mind. “I love you, Reesa.”
She nearly choked on the breath that released with such force it made a puffing sound. I love you. He’d said it. A voice in the back of her head reminded her that Ethan had said it, too. But she resolutely sent that voice back to the dark reaches of her psyche, refusing to let it discourage her. Marc was not Ethan. He was nothing like Ethan, and she needed to grow up and be strong. She couldn’t make Marc suffer for her ex’s mistakes forever.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, barely able to speak the words that had floated through her head for weeks now. But almost before they were out
of her mouth, Marc silenced her with a hasty kiss filled with pure bliss. Her body heated, and had they not been in the middle of Midtown, Reesa probably would have stripped him down right then and there. As it was, she had a sudden carnal need to fulfill and an urgent desire to get home alone with him.
She broke the kiss, giving him a salacious grin, and he grunted. “We’re not going to pack your apartment when we get there, are we?” he asked, seeming just as heated as she felt.
Reesa shook her head. “Well, we might, but I have other needs first. And I think you do, too.”
Chapter 9
“Are you sure you want me to come?” Reesa stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her otherwise empty bedroom. She had another few days before she had to be out of the apartment, and she wanted to get the last details in order at Marc’s place before she called it her own, and she’d moved her things over slowly.
Stepping up behind her, Marc settled his hands on her hips, accented by the form fitting black dress and grinned at her reflection. “How could I not? I’ll have the hottest date there!”
Her brows drew together. “Thank you, but that’s not the point.” This would be their first public appearance together at a function, and with the story about her supposed abusive tendencies, she didn’t want to bring any additional controversy down on Marc’s head. “You can go without me. I won’t get upset.”
Marc’s jaw set in a hard line, and his eyes sparked with determination. “You’re more important than anyone else in my life, Reesa. I’ve waited too long to fall in love, and I won’t leave you behind. I don’t care what anyone thinks, and you shouldn’t, either.”
But she did, and it would only take one whisper to ruin their night. Scathing looks and judgmental sneers didn’t appeal to her, and she didn’t want to do anything to hinder the world’s adoration of People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive this year, especially at the celebratory dinner. She smiled briefly at the thought of that – her man had been the ‘most eligible bachelor’ in Sports Illustrated for three years, and now, he’d been chosen as the representation of what every woman coveted.
But the sense of pride she felt at calling Marc hers quickly vanished as she thought about how that could ruin him. Turning her away from the mirror to face him directly, Marc told her, “I can handle anything hurled at me, Reesa. Stop worrying so much, okay? We’ve got this.”
The scent of his cologne and the way he looked as at home in his tux as he did on the field did wonders to reassure Reesa. Marc exuded confidence, and she found her doubts slipping away, replaced by excitement at what the evening might offer. Considering the men who had been named with this honor before, she had a feeling she was about to meet some very famous and influential people. And she couldn’t help wondering if she could network a little and maybe salvage her business, even as she considered collecting autographs like some fanatic. Her thoughts went to Kylie, and she decided she’d let her friend have all that fun. She’d started seeing Jordan, the burgeoning couple joining them at the gala.
Squaring her shoulders, Reesa nodded and pulled out of his embrace to check herself one more time. “Okay, let’s get out of here before I rethink it.”
The car waited downstairs, and Reesa let herself daydream a little. Being in the back of a limo, riding through the heart of New York with its bright lights with a truly wonderful and sexy man beside her should have seemed surreal. Instead, it felt comfortable and exciting so that, by the time they arrived to walk an actual red carpet, she practically bounced in her seat.
She spotted several movie stars, and she recognized one of her favorite singers who had formerly been named with this honor. But as enthusiastic as she was about mingling with all of them, she found it far more satisfying that she was here with Marc. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and held her head high as they walked past flashing cameras and dozens of people watching and hollering from the street behind guarded barricades.
“Are you alright?” Marc spoke in a low tone by her ear, concerned, and Reesa realized she was trembling.
Beaming up at him, she said, “I’m wonderful. I’m on an adrenaline rush, I think.” She clung tighter to him, trying to control herself, but her senses were overwhelmed. She couldn’t take it all in fast enough. She hadn’t thought about having to pose for a photo, but like every other couple, Marc stood them at the end of the carpet and turned to face the cameras, offering a charming smile that made her grin, too.
After that, she welcomed the dim lighting inside, the candles on the dinner tables and the lack of bright lights flashing in her eyes. She searched the crowd milling around for Kylie and Jordan but didn’t find them and settled for seeking out the table at front and center where they would sit. Having found the place cards reserved for them, she let Marc pull out her chair like a gentleman, only to be assailed by the exuberant squeals of her best friend as the other couple rushed toward them.
“I can’t believe I’m really here!” Kylie cried, hugging Reesa so tight she couldn’t breathe. “This is amazing. And you’re the star here, with this hunk of man you’ve got wrapped around your little finger.”
Reesa rolled her eyes, blushing. “It’s not like that.”
“I beg to differ,” Marc cut in with a chuckle. “Because I would do anything for you. You should know that by now.”
Speechless, she just stared at him, enraptured by his dedication to her and the fact that he would openly state it in front of not only her best friend but his. Jordan obviously had his concerns about Reesa, and she had all but gone toe to toe with him a couple of times to stand up for herself. She’d assured him more than once that she had Marc’s best interests at heart, just as he did.
Now, though, Jordan simply shook his head and smiled as a waiter came through and handed them flutes of champagne. “Whipped, I tell you.”
Kylie narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being a slave to love, if you find the right person.”
“I never said otherwise.” His blue eyes sparkled, and Reesa’s heart swelled for Kylie. Apparently, that relationship was flourishing, and she was so happy for her friend.
A half-hour later, the ceremony began, jokes raunchy and speeches sentimental. When it was Marc's turn, he was not only eloquent but charismatic to the point that no one could take their eyes off him. As he wrapped up his speech, he said, "Of everyone I have to thank for my career and the blessings in my life, I most of all want to give my gratitude and my love to Miss Theresa Brighton. She's the light of my life and the strength behind everything I do today. Without her, none of this means anything, and I am the luckiest man in the world to have such a smart, beautiful, and confident woman at my side."
Shocked, Reesa met his gaze, finding it hard to believe he’d announced that to the mixed crowd. Marc was a pillar of the community, and aside from the scandal she’d brought into his life, he was above reproach in every way. Sure, people had talked about his supposed exploits with women, but that was different. He never lied about things, and now, she didn’t believe all the hype anyway. Giving such credence to her personality would go a long way in repairing Reesa’s reputation.
Marc came down from the stage and pulled her to her feet, kissing her soundly in front of all the celebrities and reporters in attendance. For one brief moment, she basked in the spotlight, and then she was glad it was over. She didn’t like being the center of attention, but it sure felt good to show the world that Marc belonged to her.
Afterward, the reception ensued, and Marc was subjected to several short interviews. Reesa drank enough champagne to leave her lightheaded, and by the time they said their goodnights and headed for the car, she felt gloriously uninhibited.
It irked her when she heard a group of women calling out to Marc, asking for his autograph, but she assumed they would ignore the fans. Instead, Marc steered her in the direction of the small group, a cocky smile on his face showing his dimple in the moonlight. “Ladies, calm down. There’s plenty to go around,”
he told them in a rich, lilting voice.
Reesa stared at him, jaw slack, as he reached for the first girl, who held out a t-shirt with his number on it and a Sharpie. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Morgan,” she said, nearly in tears with idol worship.
He signed it ‘with love’ before continuing the process for the other three girls with her. “Now, you gorgeous ladies be safe, and have a wonderful night. Sweet dreams.” He winked at them and then patted Reesa’s hand as he guided her back to where their car had pulled up.
Furious, Reesa jerked away from him and glared. “What was that?”
Marc blinked at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
She scoffed. “Don’t play dumb, Marc. ‘Sweetheart. Sweet dreams. Gorgeous ladies.’” She made a face. “What the hell was that?”
He rolled his eyes with a playful smile. “It’s just pandering to the fans. Come on, you’re not jealous, are you? It’s part of the job. It has nothing to do with you or us. I love you, Reesa. I’m with you.”
Her expression hardened, and she crossed her arms, suddenly cold, even though she wore her long coat. “Anyone who saw that would have second guessed it. You sounded like a player over there, and not the kind on the field.”
Scowling, Marc countered, “You haven’t said anything like that to me since we first met. What’s gotten into you tonight? Did you have a little too much champagne?”
It was the wrong thing to say, and Reesa's anger flared. "How could you be so self-righteous? That's completely offensive, especially after making me feel cheap for being the woman on your arm while you flirted with four other girls who were way too young for you anyway."
His scowl deepened. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Like I said, it’s part of the job. You cater to the fans so they keep coming back, whether it’s because they like you or the like the sport. It’s what any soccer player – or any sports figure – would do. Are you really going to fault me for it?”