Bad Billionaires Box Set

by Elise Faber

  “Okay,” he said, giving her a sad puppy dog look.

  “None of that,” she declared, but her face was filled with amusement . . . that turned to heat when he trailed his hand down her front and slipped his fingers between her thighs.

  “I’ll leave,” he said, giving her clit a teasing stroke before pulling away.

  Her hand snaked out and caught his wrist, returning it to her heat. “Heather’s always late anyway,” she murmured. “She’ll get caught up in emails and ah . . .”

  The rest of her words were lost on a moan.

  They were late getting to the bar.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cecilia

  “I don’t have to come with you,” Colin said as they walked hand in hand down the street. “I can leave you to your friend and keep myself busy for a couple of hours.”

  CeCe stopped and rose onto tiptoe, giving Colin a heated kiss. The man was on fire, he’d made her come with his fingers then his mouth in the shower, all before he’d bent her over the vanity and given them each a release that had made them see stars.

  “You don’t have to hang out,” she said, pulling back. “But I definitely want you there.”

  One side of his mouth tipped up. “Okay.”

  With just that, he took her hand again and they strode forward to the restaurant.

  A simple request, a simple acquiescence.

  Effortless.

  He was just so easy to be with.

  A happy sigh had him glancing down with a raised brow, and she just blurted it out, no fear this time. “I love you.”

  His hand twitched in hers. “I love you,” he said and pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear. “You’re the other half of my heart,” he murmured.

  Her own heart twitched, and she bit her lip. “Romantic,” she teased.

  “Apparently.” He tucked her against his side.

  She tilted her head to glance up at him. “Besides me wanting to monopolize all your time, I’m sure Heather is dying for gossip to send to the ravenous crew at home after I told her I was seeing someone.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced up at a street sign and pointed ahead. “The restaurant should be just ahead. What did you tell her about me?”

  She smirked. “That you were trouble.”

  He snorted. “Women.”

  “Men.” But she snuggled closer as she said it, loving the feel of his arm around her. “Thank you for chasing me down, Colin. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this happy again.”

  The arm that was around her shoulders twitched, and he whispered, “I want to take you back to the flat and strip you naked all over again for saying that.”

  Cecilia turned her head to press a kiss to his biceps. “I want that, too. But first, food.” They’d reached the restaurant and Colin held the door open for her. “Oh, look! There’s Heather. I can’t believe she beat us here.”

  CeCe waved, lacing her hand through his, and waded her way through the crowded space, feeling Colin falter for a moment before his steps picked up behind her. “Hi,” she said when she’d reached the table and hugged Heather, who returned the gesture almost woodenly. CeCe pulled back. “You okay?”

  But Heather wasn’t looking at her. She was looking over Cecilia’s shoulder. “McGregor?” she asked. “I thought we weren’t meeting until later in the week?”

  Cecilia glanced up at Colin. His face was as surprised as Heather’s. “That was the plan,” he said.

  They both looked at her.

  She glanced between them and lifted her hands, palms up. “Um. I guess our Heathers are the same?”

  “Hmm,” Heather said, shaking her head. “Well, sit down. How did this happen? Do I need a drink?”

  “I’ve known Colin since I graduated from high school,” Cecilia said, picking up a menu as Colin settled in next to her.

  “What is it with all my employees fraternizing?” Heather grumbled.

  Cecilia shook her head at the same time that Colin raised a brow. “Employee?” he asked.

  “Fine,” Heather said, holding up a hand. “Don’t go all alpha male on me. Business partner. But first there were Abby and Jordan, and now you”—she pointed at CeCe—“and McGregor. Abby just told me you accepted her offer and you”—she continued her pointing streak, this time singling out Colin—“the ink on our contract is barely dry. How did this happen?”

  “I love her,” Colin said with a shrug. “Always have. Always will.”

  CeCe’s heart gave a little aw, and Heather’s mouth clamped shut at the words. “Damn,” she said after a moment. “You’ve got a live one.”

  “I know,” Cecilia said.

  “You also know the girls are going to want every single detail.”

  A sigh, but CeCe was secretly thrilled that Heather seemed to approve. “I know. I’m expecting it’ll take several FaceTimes to satisfy everyone’s curiosity.”

  “More than that.” Heather chuckled and nodded her head at Colin. “Just look at him.”

  Col frowned, glancing down at himself in a confused way that made CeCe smile. “You’re gorgeous,” she murmured into his ear. “And perfect for me in every way.”

  He squeezed her thigh, murmured back, “What was that about me being a romantic?”

  They stared at each other, eyes saying all the things their mouths couldn’t in a crowded restaurant . . . at least until a click startled them out of their reverie.

  “Sorry,” Heather said. “I had to. You guys are just—” She shook her head, and Cecilia felt her phone ping on the group text she and the girls shared.

  “Really?” She sighed. “There will be no end to it now.”

  Heather laughed. “Not for me.” A grin. “I have to get off to a business meeting in a few anyway.” She waved at the waitress. “This asshole from Savant Technologies is trying to undercut one of my deals. He thinks he’s so flipping”—she rolled her eyes—“amazing and manly, and that just because he possesses a Y-chromosome, he knows how to run a company better than me. Idiot.” She asked the waitress for a drink then paused her diatribe as Colin and Cecilia ordered after quick glances at the menu. “I swear if he thinks that he can get the best of me, he’s got another thing coming. Ugh. Sorry.” She waved a hand and pivoted subjects so quickly that CeCe felt her head spin for a moment. But that was always the way with Heather. “I want to hear all about Finland. Was it amazing?”

  “So amazing,” Cecilia said, placing her palm over Colin’s where it still rested on her thigh and then proceeding to chat away with Heather.

  Aside from a few words here or there, Colin let them have their fun, and Cecilia did manage to shut up long enough about the aurora borealis to let him and Heather touch base on a few business details that had come up since he’d left San Francisco.

  But then Heather was checking her phone and cursing, yanking her wallet from her purse.

  They both waved her off, promising another get together in the near future and watching with wide eyes as she bustled out the door, fury in every line of her body. The crowd parted before her like the Red Sea, and a man scrambled to open the door, looking blindsided when Heather unleashed a smile in his direction.

  “The man who’s trying to undercut her is a bloody idiot,” Colin said.

  “Agreed.” The door closed and CeCe turned back to her man, the one that was lifting her up instead of cutting her down. “So, your Heather is my Heather?” she asked.

  His thumb came up, touching the corner of her mouth. “Apparently.”

  “Small world,” she said.

  “Very small.” He smoothed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “But mine is so much bigger with you in it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Colin

  “I don’t have to go,” he told Cecilia a few days later as they packed up the Berlin flat.

  “No,” she said. “It’s important that you go and check in. I’ll head to Paris for a couple of days and then if things work out, we can meet up
there.”

  Paris. The City of Love.

  He should be seeing it with CeCe.

  “Promise you won’t visit the Eiffel Tower without me?”

  “Ah, Colin McGregor,” she said, traipsing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. “I keep forgetting that you’re such a romantic.”

  He gently tugged her arms free and set her away from him. “Woman.”

  “Man.”

  “A promise, please.”

  She mock-glared but her eyes were bright. “I’ll wait on the Eiffel Tower, but I’m damned sure not waiting for you for croissants.”

  “I can deal with that.”

  Cecilia grumbled as she kissed him. “That’s because you don’t like croissants.”

  “Maybe,” he said, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips, loving the way she tasted so sweet, reveling in the heat of her mouth and the soft little sigh of pleasure that emerged when he was doing it exactly right.

  They were both breathing hard by the time he broke away.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

  “I’ll only be a plane ride away.”

  She laughed. “And you’ve got a private one at your disposal.”

  “True.” He snagged her hand. “Come on. Let’s get to that plane so we can drop you in Paris.”

  “I could have taken the train, you know.”

  Colin stroked a hand down her spine then gave her ass a smack. “I know. But—”

  “You have a private plane. Blah, blah. I know.” She stopped, abruptly turning around.

  He froze. “You okay—”

  Her arms wrapped around his waist and he struggled with the bags for a second before letting them fall to the floor. Who gave a damn about luggage when his woman had her arms around him?

  After a few moments, she released him, heading for the door, explaining her actions with a casual, “I hadn’t hugged you yet today. Oh.” She paused, beautiful green eyes locked onto his. “I love you. Somehow more than yesterday, which should be impossible.”

  This woman was going to be the death of him.

  But he was smiling as he followed her out of the flat and to the car parked below.

  Damned if he didn’t love her more every day, too.

  Colin dropped CeCe off in Paris with a driver to take her to the flat Joanne had reserved in the 6th Arrondissement then boarded his plane again and headed for Edinburgh.

  He smiled at the memory of her pursed lips when he’d told her on the flight over to close the travel search site on her laptop because he had her accommodations covered. Those lush lips had puckered, her brows had pulled together, a fire starting in those green eyes, before she’d sighed, smiled, and given him a kiss.

  “Thank you,” she’d murmured.

  “Have an extra croissant for me.”

  “I won’t fit into my jeans if I keep that up.”

  He’d nuzzled her throat. “Then we’ll buy you bigger ones.”

  She’d broken into giggles at that, and they’d spent the rest of the short flight chatting about all the things she wanted to see.

  And now he’d left her in Paris, along with his heart.

  “Damn,” he muttered, knowing that he was turning into a sap. He needed to get his head in the game, to focus on business so he could get back to Cecilia.

  He also needed to decide how to deal with the other thing.

  The thing being . . . how he was going to ensure his mother and sister would never ever come between him and Cecilia again.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Cecilia

  CeCe woke with a gasp, hating that the old memories had arisen again now that Colin had flown home to Scotland.

  During the day, it was easy to pretend everything was different and better, but without him, without the other half of her heart, old doubts began to creep in and make her uncertain. Was it inevitable that things would eventually go bad between them again? Would he misjudge her?

  Would she end up all alone again?

  Sighing, she glanced at the clock and saw that it was just before four in the morning. Too early.

  But her friends should be available, Heather depending on which time zone she was in, of course.

  CeCe opened the text chain and scrolled back up, past the Outlander gifs teasing her for finding her very own Jaime, past the pictures she’d sent of the croissant she’d devoured that morning and the very long line she’d waited in for admission to the Louvre. She kept going back until she tracked down Heather’s travel plans.

  And upon seeing that her friend had returned to San Francisco after brief stops in Rome and Madrid, Cecilia sent the S.O.S.

  I need girl talk. I’m freaking out.

  Immediately, texts began pouring through.

  What’s the matter? Abby.

  How can I help? Seraphina.

  Who do I have to kill? Bec.

  Hang on, I’ll videoconference us all in. Heather.

  The screen of her laptop lit up and within a couple of seconds, each of her friends’ faces was staring back at her from a different corner.

  “It’s the middle of the night in Paris,” Abby said. “Why are you awake?”

  Cecilia rubbed the aching space between her eyebrows. “I had a bad dream.” Bec smirked, but CeCe waved her off. “Not like that. I dreamed about the day Colin and I . . . well”—she sighed, knowing that she was going to have to dish all. Their relationship status took It’s Complicated to a whole new level—“We were supposed to get married.”

  “You’re getting married?” Seraphina shrieked and clapped her hands together, her beautiful face shining brightly with joy. Sera loved happy endings. “That’s amazing! That’s—”

  “Not what’s happening,” CeCe interrupted. “Colin and I were supposed to get married six years ago.”

  Sera clamped her mouth shut. Heather said, “Hmm.” Abby’s eyes widened. But Bec said in typical rough and ready East Coast Bec fashion, “Well, fuck, the newest to our corrupted quintet of dirty old women has been holding out on us.”

  Already, Cecilia felt better. “I didn’t expect to see him again. We . . . obviously, we didn’t part on good terms. His family kind of conspired to break us up, and he believed them over me. I was hurt, so damned hurt, that I left and never looked back.”

  “And then what happened?” Abby was perched on the edge of her chair, clearly riveted.

  All the girls were as she detailed the plane ride, the hotel in London and Colin following her to Finland. Her life had all the drama required for their very own CeCe-centered romance novel.

  “How’s the sex?” Bec asked with a cackle.

  Cecilia’s cheeks went red-hot. But she answered anyway. “Incredible,” she said, unable to hold back her sigh.

  Seraphina giggled. “I’ll take what she’s having.”

  Heather spoke for the first time. “So, it seems like everything is going good and that you worked out a lot of your issues. Plus, he couldn’t keep his eyes—or hands—off you at dinner. What’s going on now that has you doubting him?”

  “I’m not doubting necessarily . . .” she prevaricated.

  “Try that line on a different group of horny old women,” Bec said.

  “I resent the term old,” Abby said.

  Bec waggled her brows. “But not horny?”

  “Clearly not.” Abby pointed at her slightly rounded belly.

  “Ladies,” Heather interjected. “I know you think you’re amusing, but CeCe needs to answer the question.”

  She flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the gorgeous antique ceiling. It was coffered and the swirling white woodwork was so gorgeous that she physically ached for her sketchbook. “I’m not doubting his intentions.” She groaned. “I’m just doubting our . . . I don’t know, our staying power, I guess. I mean, he’s been sweet before, and now he’s not here, and what if it all goes to shit again? I can’t—I don’t know how—”

  “You miss him,” Sera said.


  “Yes,” she wailed. “And now he’s back in Scotland, and what if his family gets their claws into him again?”

  “Then he’s a fucking idiot,” Heather said bluntly.

  “And we cut off his balls with rusty scissors,” Bec added.

  CeCe sat up, nose wrinkling. “Why rusty?” she asked.

  A shrug. “Because that’s worse.”

  “Okay,” she said, not able to disagree with that logic.

  “Why not just fly to Scotland?” Abby asked. “If you’re not going to enjoy your solo time in Paris, you might as well visit him and spend some more time together.”

  “And hot sex,” Bec said. “She needs more of that.”

  Seraphina nodded. “I agree. This will give you both a chance to flush away those bad memories and move forward. It’s not like he can avoid his family forever.”

  “I bet he wishes he could,” Heather grumbled. “Family is a giant pain in the ass—”

  “Hey!” Abby said with a glare.

  “Present company excluded,” Heather said, smirking. “But his business is also based in Scotland, so he’ll need to go back regularly. If you can’t get over that . . .”

  Heather didn’t finish the rest of the sentence, but Cecilia heard it anyway. If she didn’t get over her discomfort with Scotland—going there, him returning home, his family—they would be stuck in this same painful cycle forever.

  It was better to rip off the Band-Aid.

  “I guess I’m going to Scotland.”

  “You pack, and I’ll get Jordan’s assistant to book you on a flight,” Abby said. “I’ll text you the details.”

  “What’s it with billionaires and assistants?” CeCe muttered.

  Abby just grinned. “You know you love it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I do.” A glance at her friends. “You guys are amazing. Thank you.”

  “Pish,” Bec said.