by Claire Adams
The thought stayed with me the entire afternoon. When my parents returned from the walk all fresh-faced and giggling like high school sweethearts, I made up any excuse I could to escape. "I'm going to take a rest and then get dressed for dinner," I said.
I shut the door of my master suite and leaned hard against it. The memory of that quiet night next to the stream filled my head until I thought I would explode. Corsica's sweet smile as she explained the comforts of dressing for dinner, the water of the stream doing nothing to cool my desire for her, the moment she stepped up to the campfire looking so elegant and happy…
Happy. I'd been happy. Then the night turned into one of the best of my life, and I screwed it all up the next morning. I was exactly like my father, except there were no twelve steps to repair the damage my ego had done.
I paced around my suite like a caged animal until it was time to put on my suit. I knew Xavier had made the dinner reservations, and it would please them both if I, for once, tried to act like a civilized man.
"Now that is a fine cut suit," Xavier said when he saw me. He slipped out of the guest room and shut the door behind him. "Might as well get comfortable. Your mother is trying out a new look."
"She's really feeling better?"
My father smiled. "She really is. Every second of it feels like a miracle. That's why I was so sharp about your comment earlier. I know you were just teasing us about the wedding, but you understand how important it is to us, don't you?"
I cringed. Even my own family thought I didn't have the ability to care. "You know I'll be there even if you two decide to get married in a meadow at dawn."
"God, let's hope not," my father joked. "We know it's going to be outdoors, but I'm trying to steer your mother towards a garden or something with at least a few vestiges of civilization."
He kept talking about the wedding plans with a smile on his face. I watched him and suddenly couldn't take it anymore.
"I forgive you."
"What?" Xavier asked, taking a step back.
"I know you never wanted to hurt her. I know it was just the alcohol. You've really turned everything around, and I know it wasn't easy. I forgive you." I felt like an elephant eased off my chest and walked away.
Tears sprung to my father's eyes as he stumbled forward to fold me in a hug. "I really am sorry, Penn. There is nothing I can do to change it except tell you I think about it, think about how I was to you, and I regret it every day."
"It's over," I said, my throat hot. "Now let's figure out how to tell Alice you want a garden party wedding."
My father laughed. It took him a moment to steady himself and even then, he kept a hand tight on my shoulder. "Next you have to forgive yourself, Penn."
"For what?" I asked, immediately tense and stepping away.
Xavier smoothed down his tailored suit, but kept his eyes steady on me. "You had every right to hide your financial status. We have to be guarded; it's just part of the territory when you have that much money."
I shook my head. "But I was so hard on her. I made fun of her for wanting money. I made her think that I was better because I didn't need money, and all the time, my bank account was climbing into the stratosphere. I made her feel bad for wanting something I was taking for granted."
"So you made a mistake," my father shrugged.
Alice appeared at that moment and tuned into the conversation as if she'd been in the room the whole time. "There are no mistakes," she declared. "There's only what you choose to do next."
"How very Zen. Thanks," I muttered.
My mother swept over and cupped my face in both hands. "You changed directions once, remember? It was drastic, and it took you far away from your father and me. But, it brought you to where you needed to be. So why are you so afraid of changing directions now?"
I took her hands and squeezed them, not quite up to meeting her sharply intuitive gaze. "I can't go back."
"No you can't," Alice said, her voice certain and strong. "But you can stop hemming and hawing over the next step and just take it already. You know what you want to do, so get on with it."
I tried to brush off her words, but they stuck hard in my chest. "How about we have dinner first."
My father saved me with another slap on the back. "Excellent idea. And wait until you try the salmon at this new restaurant. You'll swear they fished those fillets straight out of heaven."
Alice stopped and gave us a mischievous smile. "About that restaurant."
My father and I groaned. Every time Alice had that expression on her face, we had ended up trying some authentic hole-in-the-wall where we didn't speak the language and the food set our senses on fire.
"Oh, come on, where's your sense of adventure?" she asked.
My mother was impossible to resist, but we complained the whole way there.
"If I'd have known, I would have eaten at home," I said.
My father held up his hand and whispered, "I would have stuffed some crackers in my suit pocket."
"And antacids," I added.
"Enough," Alice said with a laugh. "We're here."
Both Xavier and I were shocked when we stepped out of the car. My mother, the wild bohemian, had chosen an old-fashioned supper club.
The sign still buzzed with red neon, though the exterior was completely new and very swanky. A gold-colored awning sheltered a red carpet up the steps to heavy oak doors. Inside, the restaurant glowed with candles in jars on each table. The wood-paneled walls offered the only other light from sconces. The curved booths were covered with red leather, and the floor was a wild swirl of old-fashioned paisley.
"This is great," Xavier breathed. "I bet they even have rare steaks here. Actual rare steaks."
I hung back as my parents followed our white-jacketed waiter to a booth. All I could think was Corsica should be there. She would have delighted in the way my parents walked with arms wrapped around each other, but more than that, she would have loved the stage.
There was a small, raised dais of a stage with a grand piano and a row of gilded stalls for a full jazz band. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the single, vintage microphone sparkling under the spotlight. It was like a beacon showing me the first time I saw Corsica sing.
That very moment when I fell in love with her.
"Penn? Are you coming?" my mother asked.
"In a minute," I said, turning back to the front door. "I have to make a phone call."
"If it's work, it can wait," my father advised.
"Nonsense," Alice said. "Whatever it is can wait until we've ordered at the very least."
I had no choice but to slide into the booth and listen to a novel length's explanation of the daily specials. When my father asked about the steaks, the waiter launched into a whole other spiel, and I thought I might lose my mind.
"I really need to make a phone call," I said through gritted teeth.
My mother patted my hand. "I know, dear. If you're in such a hurry, you can order first."
"Ladies first," Xavier said. Then, after my mother ordered, he took forever to decide on what sides to have and what dressing would go best with his salad.
"I'll have whatever that first special was. Just the standard sides. No dressing," I snapped when the waiter turned to me.
His eyes widened slightly but he bowed. "Very good, sir. Enjoy the show. Your food will be out shortly."
I stood up from the booth so fast that the silverware jangled. "I just have to make a quick call," I lied. If I got Corsica on the phone and she didn't hang up with me, I knew the conversation could very well take all night. In fact, it would probably go better if it was face to face.
I was about to make my excuses and call for my car when the house lights dimmed and the stage lit up. A band shuffled on, looking relaxed and ready for a good show. My mother tugged me back into the booth. It was a good thing, too, because my legs turned to jelly.
After the musicians took their places, Corsica appeared on stage. She floated along looking like some
figment of my desires in a perfect black dress and patent-leather pumps. Her hair was loose and spilled over her shoulders, glowing in the soft light of the spotlight. She looked at home, happy, and in her element.
The music swelled, and I stopped breathing. Stars burst along the corners of my eyesight before I could manage a shaky breath. Corsica opened her smiling mouth and sang the first verse of the song that had haunted me all through my trek across the desert.
I blinked and stopped breathing, and then gasped for air. Corsica was either a mirage come to life or I had somehow gotten my wish. I wanted to talk to her face to face, and there she was.
I stood up, though my mother tried to stop me. The gravitational pull of Corsica in that spotlight was too strong. I had to be near her. I had to know she was real. I walked through the tables scattered around the small stage until I was standing directly in front of her.
She saw me and kept singing, each note drumming all of my doubts away.
I loved Corsica. That was it. That was all I could think and when the song ended and the whole restaurant paused to hear me address the angel in the spotlight, that was all I said.
"I love you."
Corsica apologized to her band and stepped down to face me.
I didn't even give her a chance to speak; the words tumbled out of me. "I love you, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"So where have you been?" she asked, her eyes bright.
"It doesn't matter," I said, taking her hands. "Everywhere I go just leads back to you."
Then she smiled. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere."
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
I ran down the beach as fast as I could, but even the punishing pace couldn't burn away the joy I felt. The beach house was more than my finish line. It was my home.
"What's your hurry?" Penn called from the deck. "Now that you're done with your morning run, we're going back to bed, right?"
I laughed despite my heavy breathing. "I thought you wanted to sleep in."
"Only with you." He caught me as soon as I stepped on the deck.
"Stop! I'm all sweaty!"
He nuzzled my neck and growled deep in his throat. "And you taste delicious."
"No, really stop. We have to get ready. Today's the big day," I reminded him.
Penn didn't stop until his kisses made me lose track of all time. Then he leaned back and beamed down at me. "We can be late, can't we?"
I shook my head, though I was too content to leave his arms. "The ceremony can't start until we're there."
"I can't wait to walk you down the aisle," Penn said with another hungry kiss.
This time I did push him back, the bright ring on my finger glinting in the morning sun. "That's not until April. Today is all about your parents."
"Today is all about love, as my mother keeps reminding me. Surely, she'll understand if love is what makes us late."
I couldn't resist Penn any longer. I distracted him with a kiss and then lunged for the sliding glass door. "I'll race you to the shower."
He caught me halfway through the kitchen and I was overjoyed when those hard, tattooed arms closed around me. I looked up at him and wondered again how lucky I was.
Once we were done with assumptions, it was just us, and we were so very happy.
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BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE VOLUME I
Chapter One
Jack
There was a gentle breeze blowing as I poured the champagne into tall flutes and handed them to the two bikini-clad girls tanning on the deck. The captain had anchored the boat in a quiet spot just off the coast of Santorini, and I was enjoying the sun and sea with my companions. We were about to head north to Athens, where we would celebrate my thirty-third birthday with a party that would keep the whole city talking for months.
"Jack, I'm out of champagne again," the tanned blonde pouted as she held out her glass. She was the heiress to a Greek shipping fortune and, as a result, was very spoiled, but I enjoyed her company—and her body.
"Well, that will not do at all, will it?" I said as I pulled the bottle of Cristal out of the icy bucket and refilled her glass. "You must stay hydrated, mikri prinkipissa!"
"I'm not a little princess," she giggled as she sipped the cold, bubbly liquid. "I'm rich, but I'm definitely not royalty."
"I am!" the brunette next to her piped up, "and I'm out of champagne, too!"
"What an affront to the crown!" I cried. I hit the button that connected me to the staff below deck and said, "Another bottle of Cristal for the ladies!"
"Right away, sir," the voice replied and, in moments, a staff member dressed in pure white emerged from below, carrying an ice-cold bottle of champagne wrapped in a white napkin. He waited for my nod before popping the cork and sinking the bottle deep into the bucket of ice.
"But I'm still empty," the brunette pouted.
I grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass, smiling as she tugged at the strings that kept her bikini bottoms up on her hips. Both girls had long since removed their tops, allowing me to admire their oil-coated breasts. This offering seemed to be leading somewhere else entirely.
"You're a very naughty girl, prinkipissa!" I playfully scolded her as she tugged the thin strip of material away from her body and tossed it at me.
"You have no idea, Jack," she purred. She and her blonde friend leaned forward and grabbed my hands, pulling me down between them on the lounging bench.
Before I knew it, they had stripped me of my swim trunks and were taking turns wrapping their hands around my stiff shaft as they kissed me and pressed their naked bodies against mine. I gave in to their ministrations as I lay back and watched their glistening bodies move over mine. These tanned nymphs always managed to find my weak spots and exploit them, much to my delight—and often theirs.
Just as the blonde was about to take me deep into her mouth for the second time, a staff member emerged from below deck holding a phone.
"Sir, you have an urgent call," he said as he managed to keep his eyes above the action happening on the lounge.
"Can't you take a message and tell them I'll call back?" I said, irritated, as I watched the brunette princess playfully fight for her oral rights.
"It's your mother, sir," he said. "She said it is urgent that you answer the call. No matter what you are doing."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I swore under my breath as I pushed the girls aside and pulled my shorts back on. The one thing I knew about my mother was that she never cried wolf. If she said it was urgent, then it was urgent.
I descended the stairs and entered my office where the phone sat waiting for me. I took a deep breath before I picked it up.
"Hello, Mother," I began.
"Jackson Fitzgerald, you need to come home," she said solemnly. "I need you here, now."
"What's wrong, Mother?" I asked, playfully adding, "Can't the king fix things for you anymore?"
"Your father is dead, Jack," she said and then went silent.
"Wait, what?" I replied, unsure that I'd heard her correctly. "I thought you just said Pop is dead."
"I did," she replied. "He died this morning on his way to meet with some new investors."
"You're kidding me, right?" I said, trying to process the news, "He can't be dead. He's the healthiest man alive. He's obsessive when it comes to his health!"
"I'm sorry, Jack," my mother said, "I know it's your birthday and that you had a party plann
ed, but we need you to come home right away."
"I'll get there as soon as I can," I said, adding as an afterthought, "Are you okay?"
"I'm . . . I'm . . . I don't know what I am," my mother said, sounding small and scared. "I didn't expect this."
"I'll get home as soon as I can. I promise," I said, trying to reassure my mother from thousands of miles away. "Where's Lincoln? Why isn't he there with you?"
"He's in California on a big case," she said quietly. "He said he'd try to get home by the end of the week."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I cursed under my breath.
"Jackson Fitzgerald!" my mother scolded. "Do not say those words! They are vulgar!"
"Sorry, Mother," I apologized, but I wasn't sorry at all. I was pissed at my brother for not hopping on the next plane back to New York to be with our mother as she grieved. "I'll get to Athens and catch the next plane out. Probably in the morning."
"Hurry, Jack," she pleaded. "I need you here."
"I'm on my way, Mother," I said then added. "I love you. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"I love you, too," she said, before hanging up.
I instructed the captain to pull up the anchor and head for Athens. Then I walked back up to the top deck where the two girls had resumed sunbathing. They both looked up expectantly, ready for me to rejoin the fun.
"C'mon, Jack!" the blonde called. "We kept your spot warm!"
I looked at the beautiful, naked bodies lying on the chaise lounge in front of me. I pushed my shorts down around my ankles and slid in between them.
"Have your way with me, girls," I said. I cupped the blonde girl's breast while the brunette princess straddled my hips, giggling as she began rocking herself to an orgasm of unparalleled intensity. I let go and pushed my sorrows aside as I gave in to the hedonistic pleasures of the girls' bodies as the yacht sped toward the mainland.
Reality could wait until we arrived.
