“Sure, why not? Only if that’s what you want.” He reached over and laid his hand across hers that flattened on the desktop. She didn’t take her gaze off his, but her discomfort was obvious through her stiff limb.
“Where will the party be?” she asked.
He let out a heavy sigh and frowned. “There we have a problem. We don’t have any place to hold it, and we thought about asking you if we could have it at your place.”
Brad squeezed her hand and then gave her one of the smiles that he knew was capable of bending a woman’s will. They didn’t call him a ladies’ man for nothing.
Breanna nibbled on her bottom lip, and he thought it was adorable. When she lifted her gaze to his, her forehead creased. He already guessed her answer.
“Sorry, Brad, but I can’t. My boyfriend and I have plans tonight.”
“Hey, bring him along. The more the merrier.”
She shook her head and dropped her gaze. “He doesn’t like crowds.”
“But wasn’t he at a bar the other night?”
She nodded. “Yes, but they were his friends, and the bar was pretty much empty.”
Brad sat in silence as he tried to think of a way to persuade her, but it looked as if her boyfriend ruined it for them. Dejectedly, he sighed and stood.
“Well, I guess we don’t have a party tonight. Maybe another time.” He lightly stroked her cheek. “Thanks anyway, sweetie. Catch you later.”
He turned and walked slowly back to the other girls to deliver the bad news. He shook his head as they clustered around. “She can’t. She has plans with her boyfriend.”
Amanda snickered and shook her head. “Her boyfriend is a jerk. He’ll wimp out on her tonight, I’ll bet you ten bucks.”
“Brad,” Eve whispered, “I told you Breanna wasn’t a party girl. She’s really uptight.”
Brad cocked his head as he glanced at the auburn-haired woman who had turned back to her computer. “Hey, let’s not be rude. Maybe she really does like to party. Have any of you invited her to a party before?” He didn’t get an answer, but the lowered gazes and guilty expressions told him what he needed to know. “Maybe she was just waiting for someone to include her.”
Jackie stepped closer. “Brad, I don’t think you’re really looking at her. Does she look like the party type or the plain-Jane type?”
He had to agree with Jackie. Breanna’s long sleeve brown dress and low-heeled grandma’s shoes were the plainest he’d ever seen. Even her hairstyle was outdated by at least twenty years. Unwanted memories rushed over him, reminding him of Carrie. She’d been the same way... when she was alive. His gut twisted. No more would he judge a person by the way they looked.
He focused back on Breanna and their short visit the other night in the cab. He’d sensed a pure sweetness about her—and she did have a pretty smile. A few minutes ago when he’d caught her gazing at him, he felt there was a different woman in her plain body just waiting for the right moment to make a grand entrance.
The phone on Breanna’s desk rang, and when she turned to answer it, he studied the side of her face. She actually had pretty features. Behind those thick-rimmed glasses, he’d detected beautiful eyes. If she went to a beautician for a haircut, they’d do wonders to enhance the style. All she needed was someone to make her feel pretty. That was exactly what Carrie had needed.
“Looks aren’t everything,” he reasoned with the others.
“Yes,” Eve added, “but she still turned down the party.”
“That’s because of her boyfriend.” He peered back at his group of admirers. “We’ll just have to plan a party next weekend.”
The girls sighed, their faces drooping with disappointment. His gaze moved back to Breanna who had hung up her phone and sat slumped in her chair, rubbing her forehead. He figured whoever was on the phone had delivered bad news. Suddenly, her back straightened and she turned in her chair and looked his way. She smiled, and his heart picked up rhythm. There was that pretty smile he’s seen the other night.
“Brad?” She motioned for him to come over.
He didn’t hesitate. In ten long strides, he stood by her side. “Yes?”
“I’ve decided to have that party after all, but I’ll need some help. Will you help me? I don’t know the first thing about putting together a party.”
In his excitement, he clasped her hands with his. “You betcha I’ll help, sweetie.”
BREANNA STOOD IN THE middle of her front room and surveyed the confined space she had to work with for her party. There was no way thirty people could fit in her apartment. With a deep sigh, she raked her fingers through her thick hair and lifted it off her neck.
“Why did I agree to this?” she grumbled.
But she knew the answer. If Tom hadn’t upset her by cancelling their date – again – she wouldn’t be worrying about the unknown guests soon to arrive.
Blowing out a gush of air, she walked into the kitchen and leaned against the wall. She hated feeling unwanted, and lately Tom’s actions had really hurt her. Why did he always choose his friends, Kevin and Trisha, over her? She was the one marrying him, for heaven’s sake! But it was like pulling teeth to get him to spend time with her.
She moved over to the kitchen counters and rearranged the food items Brad had told her to purchase. She’d never been one to go to parties like this, but because of Tom’s rejection this evening, she felt like doing something a little out-of-the-ordinary.
Although she didn’t drink alcohol, she guessed one of the guests would bring some. Hopefully, her guests would have respect for her things once they got a little tipsy. She’d bought an assortment of soda-pop like Brad had told her to get. Over on the table, she grouped the cheese and crackers together and the chips and dips. Thanks to Brad’s generous three hundred dollar donation to the party, there was plenty of food.
But the question was... could thirty people fit in her apartment? She groaned. And if all those people could fit, how was she going to keep it hidden from Tom? Mister had-to-have-everything-perfect would certainly detect something different tomorrow. And she didn’t look forward to that confrontation.
The chiming of the doorbell took her thoughts off Tom, and she hurried to the door. Her heart beat frantically. Could she actually go through with this? But then, Tom was having a good time tonight, so why shouldn’t she?
Taking a fortifying breath, she opened the front door. It had only been a few hours since she’d seen Brad, and once again, his good looks startled her and made her heart rate accelerate. Faded blue Levis molded to his muscular legs, and his red pullover golf shirt stretched across his wide chest.
He looked absolutely gorgeous. When he smiled, her knees weakened.
“Hi, sweetie. Are you ready for tonight?”
She was scared to death, but his enthusiasm relaxed her, if only slightly. “No, I’m not ready. I’m a nervous wreck. There is no way thirty people are going to fit in my house,” she rambled hysterically. “And what if by chance, they do? What if we make too much noise and the neighbors get mad? What if someone brings beer? I’ve never had alcohol in my apartment. And what if the party gets out of control and I’m not able to stop it? Do you know what my landlord will do?”
Chuckling, he stepped into the living room, and then closed the door behind him. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Okay, first... breathe.” He went through the motions of inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth, and she copied. “Next, you need to loosen up. Everything will be fine, sweetie.”
“I don’t think,” she began, but he placed his fingers on her lips and stopped her.
“Shhh, calm down,” he told her. “Take another deep breath.” Her chest rose and fell from his coaxing. “Good girl. Now relax your shoulders.” His magical fingers gently massaged her stiff neck.
“That’s the way. Now sweetie, listen to me. I’ve been to hundreds of parties and I’ve been able to control them, so if the crowd happens to get out of hand tonight, let me handle it
. Okay?” She nodded. “Good. Now tell me, are any of your neighbors old and grouchy?”
She’d lost herself in his dreamy green and couldn’t bring herself to look away. “Umm, no. My oldest neighbors are in their late forties, but they’re never home.”
He nodded as his fingers continued their massage but moved to her shoulders. “Good. Now, what about your landlord? Where does he live?”
“My landlord is a woman. Pat is in her early forties and she’s as ornery as an old bear. She lives up the walk at the first apartment on the corner.”
When Brad moved his hands away, comfort left, too. Emptiness seeped through her body, and she wanted his warmth back.
“Everything is going to be just fine.” He glanced around her living room. “Hey, let’s move some of this furniture to make more room.”
With a nod, she stepped to the long couch.
“Grab the other end and we’ll take it over to that corner.” He motioned his head in the direction he wanted to go.
As she assisted in lifting and pulling the heavy objects, she peeked at the muscles rippling over his arms. Suddenly, her mouth turned dry and her heart raced. Yes, he was very well put together.
She shook herself out of the hypnotic stare and thought of something to discuss so she wouldn’t look at his body. Instead of admiring his outer shell, she should concentrate on getting to know the man within. After all, didn’t she expect people to do that with her?
“Brad?”
“Yes?”
“You said earlier that you had attended hundreds of parties. Is that true? Has it really been that many?”
He chuckled as his gaze met hers. “Yes, I’m guilty. I’ve gone to so many parties I can’t recall them all. I guess you can call me a swinging single. You know, a playboy kind of guy?”
She remembered the conversation he and his buddy had in the cab, and especially the things he’d explained to her. “Are you living at home?”
He shrugged. “Some of my clothes are still in the bedroom located in my parents’ house, so I guess you can say I live at home, but I do so much traveling, I rarely see my family. I’ve been around the world two or three times, and I have so many friends that I never go without a place to sleep.”
“Is modeling your regular job?”
He laughed out loud. “Making friends and having a good time is my regular job.” He paused and waited, so she responded by raising her eyebrow. His answer certainly didn’t impress her.
“To be honest with you,” he continued, “modeling is my only job, but I do it whenever I want.”
She picked up a lamp and scooted it back a couple of feet. “What do you model?”
“Everything and anything. I’ve modeled clothing for catalogs, swimwear, calendars, billboards, and even covers for romance novels. You name it, I’ve done it.”
She flipped him a thoughtful look, but inwardly wished she could get her hands on one of his calendars or romance novels. “At least it’s something to keep you occupied, right?”
“I think it’s fun. My father assures me I have a job with the magazine anytime I’m ready, but it will mean settling down.” He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. “I’m not ready to do that.”
She realized something about this playboy billionaire just then. Past his charming personality and his gorgeous looks, he was still a boy at heart who hadn’t matured. Spoiled little rich boy. Although Tom wasn’t perfect, at least he had a stable job and wanted a stable family – the very thing she’d longed for all her life.
To her, stability and commitment were more important than money. For a brief moment, she felt sorry for the irresponsible billionaire.
FOUR
Breanna finished helping him move the furniture around, and by the time they were done, the change was remarkable. Perhaps thirty people could fit in her apartment, now.
She released a deep sigh and scratched her head. “How much time before our guests start arriving?”
He glanced at his gold watch, which looked to be quite expensive. “Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.” He met her stare. “Why?”
“I need to go change.”
“Go ahead.” He flipped his hand. “I’ll just check on the refreshments.”
She turned and hurried into her bedroom and stripped out of the clothes. After powdering her body with a rose scent, she grabbed the clothes previously set out to wear for tonight. The faded jeans and over-sized shirt would do just fine. She removed the ever-present rubber band and let her hair fall down around her shoulders.
When she entered the living room, Brad lounged on her sofa, but when he saw her, he stood. His gaze combed over every inch of her body. Uncomfortable by his close scrutiny, she folded her arms, trying to hide herself. “Well, I’m ready. Is this casual enough for the party?”
He walked over and stood in front of her, his hand smoothed over his goatee as he gave her a narrowed look. She didn’t like the blank expression on his face, and her heart dropped. Did he think she was too ugly? But then his face brightened and he clapped his hands.
“Oh, yes. I have it. Let’s do something with this shirt.”
He reached out and took hold of the bottom. She gasped when he gathered the material tight around her waist and tied the bulk in a knot. Embarrassment washed over her and she flattened her hands over her slightly exposed belly.
He laughed and peeled her hands away. “Don’t hide it, sweetie. This style looks really good on you.”
“But you can see my tummy.”
“I know, and it’s a cute tummy.”
He didn’t mind? Her chest bubbled with giddiness. But then his gaze lifted to her long mass of hair, and once again her heart sank. When a rejected look puzzled his expression, defeat overwhelmed her. “What’s wrong?”
He tilted his head. “Your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“We need to do something about it.”
“Like what?”
He examined her for a few minutes longer, then asked. “Would you mind if I checked out your bedroom for something?”
Her eyes widened. “My bedroom? What for?”
Taking her hand in his, he pulled her toward the room. “I’m looking for something to put in your hair or on your head.”
She should be insulted, but his charming grin calmed her fear. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Your hair is a very beautiful auburn color, but it’s too long and straight. It needs a little pizzazz.”
“I’ve had this style most of my life, and I’ve never worried about it having pizzazz.”
He stopped when they reached her room and turned toward her. His finger nudged her chin up until her gaze locked with his. “Do you want my help or not?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then you’ll have to trust me.” He turned and walked into her room. “Do you have a baseball cap?”
“Yes, but don’t ask me where I put it.”
“Okay, how about a scarf?”
It only took a moment before she remembered where she’d kept the scarf she’d never used. “Yes.” She went to her closet and dug through a pile of clothes on the shelf.
She pulled it out and showed him. “Here it is.”
He took it and moved around behind her, then gathered the bulk of her hair into a ponytail, tying it with the scarf. He came back around in front of her and his grin broadened.
“Wow. You look stunning.”
His compliment, whether false or real, caused her heart to hammer and she couldn’t stop a full smile from spreading across her face. She seriously doubted Brad’s ability to see clearly at the moment, but his words brought a burning joy to her bosom. A feeling completely foreign to her, and yet one she wanted to feel more often.
The doorbell rang, and panic came back with an overwhelming force, slamming into her gut. She swallowed hard and nervously wrung her hands. “Oh, no. They’re here.”
He chuckled and separated her hands, taking one in his and
rubbings the pads of his thumbs on her skin. “Come on, tiger, let’s go greet our guests.”
She stumbled as he pulled her forward. When the name he’d used registered in her head, she quickly stopped, bringing him to a halt.
“What did you just call me?” she shrieked.
His brows drew together. “I called you my little tigress. You know, tiger, like the striped animal?”
Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she didn’t doubt that fire shot out of her eyes from the anger inside her. How did he know that was her first name? Tyger, the one name she loathed. She hadn’t been called that since her parents were alive.
“Don’t ever call me that again.”
An expression of shock touched his face, but within seconds, his lips curved up into a grin. Slowly, he closed the space between them, his gaze never leaving hers. He leaned to her ear. “Now I want to call you that all the time. It fits you perfectly, especially when you’re riled up. Your gray eyes spark with excitement.”
As his lips gently caressed the top part of her ear, his hot breath dulled her senses. Anger faded, leaving her incredibly warm. Seeking more, she leaned forward to smell more of his manly scent, but the doorbell rang again and brought her back to reality.
He stepped away and took hold of her hand. “Come on, tiger.” He winked. “Let’s go greet our guests.” This time, she let him lead her into the living room.
The first to arrive were the girls from the office, each having a date, a friend, or husband. It wasn’t shocking to see the way Brad greeted the girls, kissing them lightly on the cheek and calling them some kind of endearment. He did this with all the women, even those he’d barely met. He was a professional charmer. Was that what he was doing when he’d called her tiger? Although she didn’t like it, the name grew on her. Brad certainly lived up to the reputation she’d heard so much about.
As the party progressed, her co-workers continued to give her compliments. She caught a few of Brad’s friends bringing in kegs of beer. Although she disapproved, her guests seemed to like it. After a while, she caught men staring at her with silly grins. She was sure it was due to the amount of alcohol they’d consumed.
The Irresistible Billionaire: Billionaire's Clean Romance (The Tycoons Book 3) Page 3
