by Marian Tee
Where the hell are you, Ilse?
The billionaire ordered a glass of scotch and downed it in one gulp as Ilse’s phone started to ring for the second time. And so it went on, and by the fifth unsuccessful try, he would have laughed if he didn’t feel so damn bleak.
If this was all because he hadn’t fucked her—-
His fingers clenched around the empty glass.
God. The rare time he tried to act like a knight in shining armor, and the princess just had to want him to act like a villain.
His glance slanted towards the digital clock next to the wall-mounted TV behind the bar, and Jaak estimated that he only had ten minutes left.
Ten minutes.
If he had any doubt that Ilse Muir had him by the balls—-
He reached for his phone one last time, but instead of making another call that she would no doubt ignore, he began typing.
—-this was fucking it.
Hashing out emotional stuff over text messaging used to be something the billionaire thought he would never be guilty of. He was no etiquette monster like Willem, but he did think that text messaging made a rather sterile and puerile medium when resolving relationship conflicts.
And yet here he fucking was—-
The billionaire pressed the Send button, and off his message went.
I miss you, Ilse.
His phone vibrated a few seconds later, a new message arriving at his inbox.
I miss you, too.
The billionaire immediately tried calling her, but when the call went unanswered, he knew he had no choice.
Jaak: Have you been avoiding me because I didn’t fuck you?
Ilse: You’re only half-joking, aren’t you?
Jaak: The other half of me thinks you wised up. You finally saw me for the loser I am.
Seconds passed, and his phone remained frustratingly silent and still. His glance slanted towards the clock, and his jaw clenched. Seven minutes. He knew he could excuse himself for being late, but years of strict etiquette were hard to ignore. He had promised Willem he would be there on time, and although he was an ass about a lot of things, his word was his bond.
But just as he was about to reach for his wallet, his phone started to ring, and when he answered, Ilse’s voice reached him like a dreamy caress.
“Jaak.”
His eyes shut closed for a moment. “Ilse.”
“You’re only half-right, I’m afraid.” Her voice became softer, tender, the kind of voice that he had only heard Ilse use when talking to her brother. “Because I do want you to fuck me.”
The billionaire stiffened.
“I want you to make me yours, and I want you to be mine. I want you to surrender everything to me. Your fears, your pain, and most of all—-” Her voice caught, and his chest tightened.
“I want your secrets most of all, Jaak.”
His name on her lips was like having his world set to right again.
“You told me to wait, and I did think about waiting. But in the end, I don’t think I should. If I waited like you said I should, I think you’ll make me wait forever—-”
“Ilse—-”
“That’s why I had to leave.”
Ah.
“I’m jealous of your secrets, Jaak. They’ve owned you far too long.” A heartbeat of silence passed before she pressed ever so gently, “Don’t you think it’s my turn to own you?”
What she was asking felt too much and too little at the same time, but even so, the billionaire knew there could only be one way to answer her.
There had always been only one way to answer Ilse.
If she needed him, he would be there for her.
“How can I be yours,” he murmured gruffly, “if I don’t know where you are?”
Silence.
And then—-
“Oh, Jaak.”
And it was the most beautiful words that had ever touched his ears because in them he heard the promise of hope and redemption, the promise that one day soon, the other words they both needed to hear and say would come.
“Is t-there a TV where you are?”
The question startled him. “Why?”
“Switch to E.”
The billionaire frowned, knowing that the said channel had exclusive rights to air real-time coverage of the invitational ball Willem had organized. “This is a bad idea,” he said grimly even as he gestured towards the bartender and murmured the request under his breath.
“Why would you say that?”
“Something tells me this has to do with the woman friends of mine have been hinting about.”
“O-oh?”
“I had a business meeting earlier.” The TV display switched to E as the billionaire spoke. “They were telling me about this woman they had met last night at the premier, some airhead who seemed to have said something to make people believe she was my girlfriend—-” He broke off as he found himself meeting Ilse’s big brown eyes...
Through the TV.
“An airhead, you say?” Ilse asked very sweetly.
“The loveliest, sexiest airhead,” he said without missing a beat.
Ilse glanced back at the camera, and as the camera zoomed in, her lovely full lips curved in a secretive, seductive smile – a Mona Lisa smile if he had ever seen one. And that smile said simply, Come look for me.
“HE’S HERE.” THE WHISPERED words from Serenity Raleigh waltzed teasingly to Ilse’s ear, and the palest shiver ran down her spine. He’s here. He’s here. He’s here. It had only been three days since she had last seen the billionaire, and yet each second had made her heart ache like it had been hurting for an eternity.
As she turned, she could feel the crowd reacting to his presence, a wave of heated interest coming in the form of sultry glances and throaty laughter, all meant to entice—-
Him.
His blue eyes captured hers the moment she lifted her head. Look at me, his eyes commanded silkily, and only me.
It almost made her laugh. Did he really think she would have any interest in any other man than him?
His tall, dark figure cut through the crowd like a powerful, gleaming sword, people parting instinctively as he bore down on them in swift, long-legged strides. When a charming, sexy smile curved on his lips, drawn breaths and gasps swirled in the air. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, so exquisitely charming, a woman had only to look at him and want more.
When he finally reached her, they stared at each other, smiling, their eyes doing the talking for them.
Hello, babe.
What took you so long?
He moved forward, closing the distance between them, and he bent his head, murmuring very tenderly, “Ilse.”
“Y-yes?” She had the craziest urge to laugh but managed to rein it in and keep her face expressionless.
“Never do this to me again, damn you.” The billionaire meant every word. She had driven him mad the past three days, wondering what the hell he had done to make her leave, wondering what he could do to get her back and make her stay.
The words were so at odds with the smile still playing on his lips, she could no longer help it, a rare laugh breaking past her lips. The lovely sound had the billionaire curling an arm around her waist, and as he pulled Ilse closer, he allowed himself a moment to savor her scent.
As she turned in his arms to face him, her shoulders still shaking with silent mirth, he whispered against her hair, “I’m not fucking joking.”
Twinkling eyes met his grim gaze, and she said solemnly, “I miss you, too.”
Someone cleared his throat loudly before he could answer, and Jaak smiled when he saw the bespectacled middle-aged man standing in front of him. “Uncle Maurice.” Ilse tried to pull away as he spoke, but instead of letting her go, he tightened his hold. “It’s nice to see you again, and may I have the honor of introducing my girlfriend Ilse Muir?”
Ilse jerked, but he pretended not to notice as he slowly but firmly made her face his uncle.
“A pleasure to meet
you, Ms. Muir,” Uncle Maurice said with gruff warmth.
“Hello, Uncle Maurice. I can see where Jaak’s got his good looks from.” Ilse’s training in entertaining the opposite sex automatically kicked in even as her head swam at the billionaire’s too-casual way of publicly referring to her as his girlfriend.
And it was just the start.
They began circulating the cocktail area, Jaak allowing himself to be waylaid by anyone who cared to say hi to him. And of course everyone did, seeing how the billionaire who used to shun such gatherings appeared to be in an amazingly good mood.
He introduced her to at least two hundred persons, and to each of those acquaintances, he wouldn’t stop referring to Ilse as his girlfriend.
Sometimes, the things he would speak of were unbearably sweet. When a society matron showered Ilse with effusive compliments, the billionaire had taken the time to study his girlfriend leisurely, his gaze caressing her as he took note of the way her silver gown accentuated her curves while baring every inch of her flawless back, and after, he had said simply, She’s not just easy on the eye. If you get to know her better, you’ll discover – as I did – that she’s even easier on the heart.
Other times, the things he would say just plain cracked her up. When a former lover of Jaak came up to them, hinting snidely about Ilse possibly having her nose done because it was too perfect, the billionaire had only sighed, saying, I don’t blame you for thinking that. Ilse’s just too beautiful, isn’t she? There are times when I look at her and I seriously contemplate about what I can do to make her ugly. I’m sick of the way she makes it hard for me to breathe around her.
But then there were times he was just so unbearably irritating. When asked by a catty-looking redhead if Ilse had ever made him jealous, the billionaire had answered unhesitatingly, Every second of the day. If I find out she’s entertaining thoughts of using a vibrator, I’d still be jealous as hell. She’s the only one I see, and in my eyes all other women look like horses next to her.
When the redhead had walked out on them, visibly enraged, the billionaire had only raised a brow, a look of sham innocence on his face as he asked if he had said something wrong.
He alternated between infuriating and endearing effortlessly, whichever the situation would call for, but it was when a particularly nosy reporter came to them, asking Jaak about how he felt regarding Ilse’s job as a sex tour guide, that Ilse couldn’t help tensing, couldn’t help wondering if maybe - just maybe – tonight was only meant to be a fantasy.
“I heard she dresses up and role-plays to satisfy her clients’ fantasies,” the reporter said with a snigger. And he had obviously done his research on Ilse as he then proceeded to describe her job in the coarsest possible terms, his loud voice attracting the attention of the people around them, as it was meant to.
She listened to him with a carefully blank expression, not because she was ashamed – she was not – but because she could only wait.
Most men would have been livid at hearing such things about their girlfriends, and they would be forgiven for it.
But Ilse was hoping Jaak de Konigh would prove to be different from most men.
When the billionaire met her eyes, she gave him a little smile. This is how it’s going to be when all secrets are out in the open. And I do want everything out.
The billionaire smiled back. I guess that makes you a masochist. He reached for her hand. But you’re also a masochist I happen to love so...
He turned to face the reporter, saying easily, “Yes. That’s her job, and Ilse’s amazing at it.” He raised a brow at Ilse. “Perhaps you have a business card with you?”
“Of course.” She opened her purse and pulled out one. “I’m always prepared.” She handed it to the reporter, who looked dumbfounded for suddenly losing his prey and not understanding how it happened. “Our rates at Glory Hall are rather high, but I promise you—-” Her voice lowered, and she winked at the reporter, saying, “Every euro you spend will be worth it.”
As they walked away, her hand still grasped securely in his, the billionaire murmured her name. She looked at him inquisitively, and he gave her a crooked grin, saying, “Admit it, babe. I handled that better than you hoped.”
“You did,” she said grudgingly.
“Did it make your heart beat fast?”
“Nope.” But it had, and the way the billionaire only smirked at her in response told Ilse he knew she was lying.
The ball officially commenced a few minutes later, with Ilse and Jaak joining his siblings in the VIP table. The billionaire knew by now that Ilse had spent the entire three days with his family, but even so it was a pleasant surprise to see her getting along extremely well with everyone.
When there was a rare pause in the conversation, he couldn’t help intruding with a curious question he had wanted to ask from the start. “What have you guys been up to in the past three days?”
His sister Anneke appeared surprised. “What else?”
He only raised a brow, wondering if all women had the mistaken belief that men were mind readers.
Fleur, his other sister, rolled her eyes at him, saying, “She wants to dig out every possible skeleton in your closet, naturally.”
“I see.” He looked at his sisters one at a time. “And you helped, of course?”
His sisters pointed to Serenity. “She helped, too.”
Serenity cocked her head to the man beside her, murmuring politely, “Mr. de Konigh asked me to.”
“Yes, I did,” Willem confirmed bluntly to his brother just before turning to his secretary-slash-fiancée, saying pleasantly, “Serenity?”
“Yes, sir?”
“It’s Willem.”
“I know, Mr. de Konigh. I’ve known since I was fourteen.”
“Serenity?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Yes, Willem.”
As the couple stared at each other, Ilse stared at them with unconcealed fascination. These two were just so alike, it was uncanny! Serenity was like a living Barbie doll, Willem was like Ken with a Dutch accent and a billion-dollar account, and the two were so impossibly gorgeous they had every right to be shallow, dumb, and selfish and everyone would love them. But instead they were the opposite, with Willem considered legendary because of his smooth-talking skills and Serenity being fondly referred to as ‘Willem, Jr.’ because of the way she so obviously followed Willem’s footsteps.
Fascinating, Ilse thought again. She had seen a lot of crazy sexual things in her line of work, but these two were the only ones to make her realize that it was possible for polite talk to be so sexually charged.
A second later, and everyone at the table laughed, and Ilse realized she had unknowingly spoken her thoughts aloud.
Oops.
When the ball finally ended, Jaak and Ilse walked out hand in hand, their pace slow and relaxed, and as they waited for the billionaire’s limousine to roll up the hotel’s driveway,
Jaak asked her if she had indeed meant what she told his sisters.
“About me leaving my job, you mean, and maybe going back to school?” At the billionaire’s nod, Ilse said simply, “I’ve been considering it since we started going out.”
The billionaire was startled. “This is my first time to hear about it.”
Ilse rolled her eyes, saying, “Contrary to what you may seem to believe, my world does not revolve around you.”
It was an effective set down, or at least it should have been, but since this was Jaak de Konigh—-
“It does, babe.” The billionaire’s tone was lazy. “You just don’t want to admit it.” He laughed as she started giving him a piece of her mind about his cocky attitude, but the moment she stopped for breath, he only bent his head and stole a kiss.
Ilse’s toes curled, and her arms went around his neck.
It had been so, so long, and she had missed this too, too much.
When the billionaire lifted his head, they were both pantin
g, and everyone at the lobby was staring. Neither of them gave a damn.
“Where’s Jan?” he asked under his breath.
“We’re both staying at your brother’s place.”
“Do you think he’ll mind if I don’t take you home first?”
Her lips twitched. “He barely notices me these days, to be honest. He’s having a blast at Willem’s home because all the bodyguards there don’t mind playing with him.”
“Good.” He smiled down at her, but she couldn’t smile back because it was one of those smiles again, and Ilse hurt at just seeing it.
“Jaak?”
He was still smiling, his tone light as he asked, “How much do you know?”
Oh.
“Everything, I suppose?” The billionaire’s gaze narrowed on her face as she slowly nodded, but nothing changed. Her eyes still looked at him like he was...
Ah, God.
She was still looking at him like he was someone strong and brave.
An urge – a blind powerful ache – to kiss her seized him, and if he had been the old Jaak, he would have. If she had been any other girl, he probably would still have. After all, fucking in public was nothing to him, so what was a mere kiss compared to that?
But he was not the old Jaak, and Ilse was not any other girl.
The billionaire yanked her to him, and as she stumbled against his chest, he said thickly, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
His arms tightened around her as feelings he had never thought he would allow himself to feel drowned his world. “Give me a moment...” A moment to get past this feeling that was making his heart clench like it had too much to beat for. “Just give me a moment to hold you close.”
Just give me a moment to exist solely to love you.
A moment, he needed this one moment, before he gave her his last secrets.
Chapter Sixteen
Nostalgia struck the billionaire as he carefully led a blindfolded Ilse onto the polo field. A silvery path snaked on the grass, streaking from the same moon that had witnessed his fall from grace. Looking around him, he could only remember flashes of emotions and visions—-
