Their Courtesan: Billionaire Menage Romance

by Cynthia Dane

  “I swear I’ve seen him before,” said the other. “Oh, thank you!” She took a shot of vodka like it was nothing.

  Seth was already coming up with excuses to leave. He couldn’t tell Zack that he had a girlfriend because, well, Zack would call bullshit and that would start a fight again. So would implying that he felt like being loyal to Judith for now. Or at least until I get the firmest no in the universe. Only then Seth might start dating again in another… oh… two years.

  “I remember now!” Toya held up her bedazzled phone between two garishly long nails. “His photos were on The Celeb Docket today!”

  “Oh my God, the Monaco guy!”

  “What’s that now?” Zack asked.

  Toya handed him her phone. “That guy’s famous! Ha!”

  Zack had to double take at the picture. “Oh my God.” His mouth dropped. “Uh, Seth…”

  Something about his tone told Seth to stay far away. Yet he went over, not expecting to see a single scandalous thing.

  Like photos of Miguel and Judith walking down a sunny Mediterranean street hand-in-hand.

  Seth’s brain tore in two. On one side was the logical, rational, doctoral side. Look at that. Judith King, one of the most expensive and celebrated “courtesans” in the nation, being seen on a date with another man. That smile and relaxed demeanor she courted was probably fake. Miguel obviously had a lot of money too… no surprise she was out on a date with him. He could afford whatever amount Monica threw at him to have such an honor. Lucky guy, really. Kinda weird that they were both fucking the same woman. In caveman times, Seth would have grounds to at least deck the Monegasque prince of good looks…

  Then there was the irrational, highly emotional, artistic side.

  This was the one that grew as red as a field of beets and nearly threw the phone into the marina.

  The bastard! They had shared drinks! Seth had almost deemed him worthy of time and company! What the fuck!

  It dawned on him.

  If Miguel was out on a date with Judith right after going on a date with Seth…

  He was the other potential patron!

  Seth stared into the water, horrified, trying to tell himself that it wasn’t a big deal. He was bound to know who the other man was at some point or another. Right?

  That bastard…

  “Oh, boy.” Zack’s voice was not welcomed right now, and yet it persisted. “You’re famous too, Seth.”

  He was brazen enough to look down at the woman’s phone again. Sure enough, there he and Judith were, walking down the city streets in the same pose that she had been seen in with Miguel. Holding hands. Looking comfortable. Laughing at corny jokes. The perfect girlfriend.

  For them both.

  Seth only caught the headline at first. “Mystery Woman Seen With Two Different Billionaire Heartthrobs In One Week.” Seth didn’t know if he would call himself a billionaire, or a heartthrob. Miguel was definitely both. No fucking wonder Judith wasn’t in a hurry to declare Seth the winner of the race for her heart and body. No wonder, when his competition was Miguel Fucking Bolivar of Monaco! This couldn’t get worse.

  “Whoa!” Toya exclaimed, kicking her legs in the air as she came upon some papped sex pics. “That guy’s dick is huge!”

  It got worse.

  Chapter 25

  MIGUEL

  “How the fuck did I get papped in Monaco!” Miguel roared to his publicist on the phone. He didn’t often call his Swiss publicist, but when he did, he often roared. “That’s the one place on Earth besides the inner sanctum of the Vatican where I can’t get papped!”

  “Mr. Bolivar, I assure you that this is being handled…”

  The little rat bastard with his Swiss-German accent could go fuck himself. Seriously fuck himself.

  “They didn’t get me on the public streets! They got pictures of me in my home!” They were some of the most flattering sex pics in the universe, but Miguel had not expected to get home after an afternoon at the marina to see a dozen pictures of his pixelated dick slamming in and out of Judith’s equally pixelated pussy. Not only were paparazzi a taboo occurrence in his homeland, but… oh, fucking technology! That was the answer, wasn’t it?

  The publicist confirmed. “The street pics are one matter, but unfortunately I’m not surprised about your home photos. Your room overlooks the marina, sir. All it takes is one well-equipped paparazzi out on a boat scouting for some hot action with a high-resolution telescope. We’ve been having a rash of these problems all over the Mediterranean. Not just Monaco. France, Spain… Italy and Greece too. You’re in good company right now, Mr. Bolivar. Be grateful that you don’t have an image shattered like some of my clients right now.”

  “The world may not care that a man like me is getting some action, but I care about privacy, and not my own!”

  “As far as we can tell, no one has discovered the identity of your date. She’s either turned away or too covered up in most of the pics.”

  “Damn hell she is!”

  “However, there is something you should know…”

  Miguel had been so caught up in the pictures that would probably turn up on porn sites – not that Judith was a stranger to that, apparently – that he never saw her appearance in another single set of much, much tamer photos taken a few days before she got on a plane with Miguel.

  When Miguel met Seth Christens earlier that day, he did not think much of him. That wasn’t to say he thought negative things. On the contrary, he seemed like a level-headed guy capable of intelligent conversations and cracking a good joke. That didn’t mean he was king of women’s hearts or anything. He seemed the type to have a sensible girlfriend or wife waiting for him at home. Pretty, but not gorgeous, except for in his own mind. More of a good mother or business partner before an ideal lover. Hey, Miguel didn’t have anything against such types… but this was a whole ‘nother matter!

  “I’m going to kill him,” Miguel muttered, before realizing what a stupid thing that was to even think. What right did he have to go after Seth? He was playing by the same set of rules that Miguel had to adhere to. Being the other man in his battle for Judith? Preposterous! How much money did that guy have to keep bidding up, up, up? He was an artist. A retired doctor, but an art…

  The painting in Judith’s room.

  The one she said was a gift from her other potential patron.

  That was him?

  Miguel tossed his tablet onto a leather couch and yanked his phone out of his pocket. “Aimee!” The girl chirped on the other end of the line. Startled? Probably. She needed to get her ass in gear unlike ever before. “Whatever you’re doing right now, drop it. I need you to do a background check for me.”

  She stuttered in French before remembered to switch to English. “Yes, sir? Anything you need…”

  “I need you to dig into a man named Dr. Seth Christens. Find out everything about him. I want to know his grandmother’s maiden name and what he eats for breakfast. Don’t leave anything out of your report. I want it by midnight tonight. Do you understand me?”

  “I will do my best, Monsieur!”

  Miguel turned off his phone. He didn’t know why he was so angry, so jealous. Sure, he loved Judith… and he didn’t need her to be anything more than his beautiful girlfriend whom he saw when most convenient… he knew she had a living to make otherwise… but… but…

  He went to his large living room window overlooking the river. Was there a fucking pap out there right now, canvasing his property in the hopes of spotting him with Mystery Woman again? Miguel would give him something to take a picture of.

  His middle finger slammed against the window. Maturity went out that window when the woman he loved was involved.

  ***

  Miguel did not get his report that night. He got it the next afternoon, instead, when he was pacing in an office full of stuffy investors wanting to talk about casinos, not what he did with his cock in his spare time. Good thing those types of men often had sexual skeletons in their
closets too. It wasn’t like Miguel was exactly known for a good-boy image in his personal life…

  Regardless, he couldn’t take a look at Aimee’s report until later that evening, when he was alone in his apartment with a bottle of Jack. He didn’t need dinner. He needed a new liver.

  This guy? Seriously? Seth Christens had great medical pedigree and a former practice that was nothing to make fun of, but he was far from perfect patron material. For one thing, there were lots of reports that he was conservative with his money. The man hadn’t even bought a house big enough to stuff with all his paintings! Even in Monaco, Miguel could find a penthouse good enough for showcasing half the world’s greatest art. What was this guy doing still living in some rundown townhouse barely good enough for a new millionaire who had a taste for the old and rickety?

  Did Judith think this guy was hot? He was… not bad looking. Fit and clean-shaven. Classic American money. Yet the only way he would stand out in a room was if he stood up straight and lost the perpetual frown. Miguel knew all about making an impression to a group, and that meant oozing charisma. This guy, based on his profile and the one hour they hung out, did not have much charisma, if any!

  “He must be really good in bed,” Miguel mumbled into his glass. “Not that I believe that.”

  At the end of the day, he supposed, it was all about money for Judith. Miguel clearly had more, but Seth was local and offered more… what? Didn’t Judith realize how much Miguel loved her? Loved her?

  Was this guy in love with her too?

  Miguel passed out half-dead in bed before he could ponder those questions too hard.

  ***

  Even though he knew what a fucking folly it was, Miguel drove up to the Château early the next morning. No appointment. His mind was too cloudy to even think about that.

  Most Wednesdays were spent either working or taking a breather at the marina. Maybe driving around other parts of the countryside. That day, however, he woke up with only one thing on his mind. Judith. He had to know something, and he wasn’t about to call her to ask.

  Normally he didn’t act this uncouth to the local pleasure houses. They had businesses to run and people to keep safe, and he respected that. That was before his heart was on the line. Fuck his wallet. What about his manly-man feelings?

  God, kill me. I don’t need feelings.

  He swerved into the guest parking lot, which was completely empty on a Wednesday at lunchtime. Miguel briefly worried that he would walk in on Judith with a client from the night before, but then reminded himself that Monday and Tuesday were considered the weekend at the Château. If anything, her work week was getting started.

  “I don’t need an announcement,” he told the bouncer, who stood up from his post with a start – and spilled half a container of salad on the marble flooring. “I need to see Judith. Is she in?”

  The bouncer glared at him. This was a tough guy who wasn’t scared of Miguel or his money. Hell, he probably ate guys like him for breakfast once upon a time. These bouncers were always ex-military. A place like the Château probably employed an ex Green Beret or Navy Seal. Miguel saw a glimpse of a tattoo on the guy’s arm. Yup. Seal.

  “If you don’t have an appointment,” and the bouncer damn well knew if there was an appointment or not… he didn’t have to look at his clipboard for that, “then I’m afraid I can’t let you in at this time unless it’s to speak with the madam.”

  “Then let me speak to your madam.”

  “She hasn’t returned yet, sir.”

  “Damnit!” Miguel had to keep his cool, lest he get kicked out.

  “Peter,” a soft voice said behind the bouncer. “It’s all right. I’ll deal with it.”

  The bouncer turned to Judith, who walked from the dining room to the front door, still dressed in her paisley cotton robe and trudging around in white ballet slippers. Even dressed down like this, fresh from lunch, she looked like a damned angel crashing to Earth. Didn’t matter that her tangled hair wasn’t yet properly brushed and took up half her head in a messy bun. Nor did it matter that she didn’t wear a smidge of makeup. This is how she really looks. You know that. Somehow it made her more beautiful.

  “Ms. King…”

  “I’m the interim madam until Monica gets back later, am I not?” Judith remained poised, even as she shot Miguel cautious looks. “Besides, he’s here to see me. If Monica has a problem later, she can speak to me about it. Hey, I said it’s all right. He won’t be here long anyway.” Before Miguel could drop his mouth, she continued, “I have an appointment I should be getting ready for. Let’s make this quick, please.”

  An appointment. With another man. Normally those facts didn’t bother Miguel. Why would they? He paid Judith for her time, and when that time was up… she was free to be with any other man she wanted… right?

  Kick me in the fucking nuts right now. Hard. Kick him hard enough so that his testicles receded into his body and he never thought about having sex again. It was for the better. He had sperm frozen somewhere in Austria, or was it Switzerland. I don’t need my dick anymore. Just castrate me so this madness ends!

  Judith didn’t offer him any pampering. This wasn’t an appointment. She wasn’t on her best game, and she didn’t have to be. As far as Judith was probably concerned, she didn’t even have to consider him a client at the moment.

  Nevertheless, he quietly followed her upstairs and to her room, the bouncer glaring at him for as long as he could be seen.

  “If you’re here about the photos, I can assure you that I had nothing to do with them.” Judith perched on the edge of her sofa and motioned for Miguel to sit wherever he liked. He chose her freshly made bed, facing her. “Discretion is one of my greatest policies. If your lawyer needs convincing otherwise, he can talk to Monica and me. We’ll set up an appointment.”

  “So you saw the photos?”

  Judith rolled her eyes with a sneer on her lips. “What, do you think I’m totally cut off from the world up here? I get decent cell phone reception, and we have secure Wi-Fi. Of course I saw the photos. I woke up yesterday morning to a gaggle of girls outside my door, giggling their faces off and marveling over your trouser snake. I daresay if you ever decide to move on from me, you’ll have every other girl lining up to try you out.”

  How could I want to move on from you? It was like she didn’t believe him when he said he loved her! Because lots of men tell her that. What am I? Just #46 on her long list of billionaires who have declared love for her. No wonder she didn’t take him seriously.

  “I don’t think you have anything to do with those photos. In fact, I wanted to apologize to you and also say that I had nothing to do with them…”

  “I’m sure. Don’t worry about it. I don’t think anyone knows who I am, and if they do, they’re not talking. Besides, there are plenty of pics and videos of me floating around the internet already. If you want, I could bring up Knock On Judy’s Backdoor #2. It’s a sequel. If you couldn’t tell.”

  “Judith, I…”

  “Of course, it’s highly dated by now, and not the best quality.”

  “Damnit, Judith, I don’t care about that.”

  “Then what do you care about, Miguel?”

  He reached to take her hand, but she pulled it away, securely folding her arms. “I care about you,” he said. “I care that you’re not hurt and not mad.”

  “I am neither, rest assured.”

  “Good.” Miguel folded his arms as well. Might as well build more barriers for them to tear down later. “Now… I wanted to talk to you about the other guy…”

  Judith tried not to grimace, but failed.

  “I know who he is.”

  “Of course you do. There were pictures of him too. I don’t doubt you did your homework the moment you saw. You types always do.”

  What did she mean by that? No matter. “No, I mean I know him. We met right before the photos came out. His close friend owns the yacht next to mine down at the marina.”

  �
�It’s a small world.” She sighed. “So?”

  “Is there a reason you’re keeping up the bids? You know I’ll give you any amount you want, Judith. That’s how much you mean to me.”

  Was it him, or were her walls building higher… and thicker? “It’s up to Monica. You heard her final terms. Put in your final offer. Sounds like the guy with the highest bid will win, Mr. Bolivar.”

  What was that polite shit? She was acting like they never had any fun, that she never opened up to him, that he hadn’t exposed his heart to her more than once. “I don’t believe for one second that you, with your second-in-command rank and close relationship with your boss, can’t go up to her and say ‘I want Miguel to be my patron.’”

  Judith continued to gaze at him as if he were nothing. Was she acting this way because Miguel was acting like a client with a lack of boundaries? I swear I am not like that. “I could, honestly, but I won’t. Because first and foremost I am running my own business. I have to do what is in my best interest. Since you and Dr. Christens are both perfectly fine patron material, I will let money be the deciding factor. A girl has money to save.”

  “I’ll give you whatever you want!”

  “What makes you think he won’t either? Look, Miguel…” She finally softened, but it was more for her benefit than his. “We have a ton of fun together. I like you. More than most of the clients I’ve had in my life. That’s a big feat to accomplish. Last I checked, I had slept with hundreds of men.”

  He tried not to bristle. As long as she’s been clean this whole time, it doesn’t matter. At all. Right. Haha. He could tell himself that until he was blue in the fucking face, but he was still a man in love. Why the fuck wouldn’t he be all over Judith, dreaming of monogamy and everything they could share with only one another? I don’t care about your past. I only care about your future.

  “But?”

  “But,” she continued, “I like him too. This job is always complicated. I count myself lucky that I have two equally good men vying for my best money-making position. If he does get it, so what? We can still see each other. Patronage isn’t monogamy. I’ll still be offering the same services that I always offer.”