Burn My Hart--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 4

  I have no choice but to make her see reason. I grin to myself as I stand, imagining all the ways I can torture her body into submission, and place my credit card on the bar as I prepare to slip out the side entrance. I can’t say why but I take one last look at their table at the exact moment Asha lifts her head. Perhaps there’s something in my movement that’s familiar or maybe it’s just a coincidence but she turns towards me and our eyes lock.

  Surprise flexes her face and then there’s fury, her lips tightening as she glares at me.

  Okay, she’s pissed off. I guess, seeing it from her side, I probably shouldn’t have come here. But, seriously, this guy is a waste of her time. No harm, no foul.

  I’m not really surprised when she texts me an hour later.

  WT actual F, Theo?

  Okay. She’s still pissed off. I don’t want to go into this via text though so I don’t reply immediately. A moment later, my phone buzzes again.

  I’m downstairs. Buzz me up.

  I reread her message and then stride towards the front door of the penthouse, pressing the button quickly, even as I know it gives me only a few minutes to work out how to play this. Asha’s never been angry at me before. We don’t really get into any situations that would enable anger. There’s no emotion in what we’re doing, generally. So this is new for us. I have no idea how she reacts when she’s pissed off, nor how likely she is to be calmed down. This is a new side to her and even as I know I have to make this right, I am a little fascinated to see Asha in this frame of mind.

  The night is warm, one of those sultry New York evenings that make it easy to remember that the city is built on a swamp. Somewhere between the hotel restaurant and my place she’s taken her jacket off and draped it over her arm so all I can think is how much I want to rip that damned camisole off her and erase the lingering hint of Angus’s pervy stare.

  ‘I’m so mad at you,’ she snaps as a preamble, dropping her handbag inside the door and crossing her arms over her chest.

  So, she’s hot when she’s angry. Her lips are pouting, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkly. ‘Yeah?’

  She continues to glare at me but a small frown crosses her lips. She’s not wearing lipstick, which is unusual for her. I don’t particularly want to think about that waste of space kissing it off her.

  ‘What the hell were you doing there?’

  ‘I wanted to see you on a date.’ I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair. ‘I was curious.’

  ‘You had no business showing up—’

  ‘I know that.’ My admission momentarily silences her but actually she’s right. I crossed a line tonight and I’m surprised I did so. ‘I thought it would be funny.’

  ‘Funny?’

  It’s the wrong thing to say. Her temper spikes and she shoots me a look that is pure venom.

  ‘What, were you jealous or something, Theo? Because we talked about this already.’

  ‘Jealous?’ I reject the idea fiercely. How can I be jealous of Asha dating someone when I have no interest in dating her?

  ‘It was just a drink,’ she reminds me witheringly, pushing past me into the kitchen.

  ‘He’s not right for you.’

  She pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge and pours herself a glass. ‘You don’t know anything about him.’

  ‘I’ve known hundreds of Angus Fienes in my time, Asha. He’d never make you happy.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’ But I do and, what’s more, I see it in her eyes that she agrees with me. She won’t admit it now because she’s pissed off with me, but I know she knows I’m right.

  I stride into the kitchen and catch her hands, lifting them to my chest. ‘You’d always be a trophy to him. You deserve to be with someone who sees you as a person, not just a name.’

  She sucks in an indignant breath, her eyes flashing fire with mine. ‘I don’t even know where to begin with that. First of all, that’s one of the reasons I like Angus—there’s no way he’s into my money. He’s rich enough all on his own. I don’t think he gives a shit that I’m heir to the Sauvages fortune.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  Her glare intensifies.

  ‘And secondly, where do you get off telling me who I should be with? What do you care?’

  ‘He’s not right for you.’

  ‘Stop saying that!’ She takes a gulp of her wine and slams the glass down so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t break. ‘Damn it, Theo, this is my life.’

  I grind my teeth together. ‘You’re right.’ My voice is deep. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Her eyes widen as she lifts her face to mine. Silence falls around us, prickly and laced with uncertainty. I look down at her face, so beautiful, and I take stock of this situation quickly. It’s one of the things I’m best at: summing up the facts and forming a plan of attack.

  ‘You want to meet someone,’ I say slowly, thoughtfully. ‘And I get that. I’m not going to stand in your way, Ash. We both know we’ve had a good run but we can’t do this for ever.’ I grin. ‘Well, I could, but we want different things and so, by all means, date. But not pretty boys like Angus.’

  The ghost of a smile twitches on her lips and relief shifts through me. Happy Asha I like. ‘He’s actually really nice.’

  I ignore her assertion. ‘Nice is fine for about three seconds. You need more than nice. And you sure as hell need more than some spoiled trust fund shit.’

  She arches a brow. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Hart Dynasty?’

  But she doesn’t mean it. We both know that my brothers and I, while born with a mass of wealth, have worked our asses off to strengthen our business interests. Trust fund brats we are not.

  ‘Let me help you find someone.’

  She snorts and reaches for her wine to drink, shaking her head. When she can speak again, her smile is fully in place and I want to kiss her. Angry Asha is hot but happy Asha is the sexiest woman in the world. ‘Erm...no.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because that’s completely creepy.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we’ve been sleeping together for six months. It’s...weird for you to hook me up with someone.’

  ‘I disagree. I know you intimately. Who else is better placed to play Cupid?’

  ‘And you’d seriously be happy with that?’

  I shrug, pleased with this development. There was a tiny part of me that had started to worry about where this was going. Six months of sleeping with one woman is a first for me. I’ve had lovers for a week or two, but not many. Usually, I’m more of a one-or two-night stand kind of guy. And while I know that nothing will ever shake my distaste for the institution of marriage, it’s hard not to worry that the longer we fuck, the more blurred the lines could become. So making this offer, knowing I could help Asha find long-term happiness while walking away whistling, proves to me that I don’t feel anything for her besides desire. Which is just the way I like it.

  I smile to show her my sincerity. ‘Ash, we know what this is, right? I didn’t go to the Four Seasons tonight because I was jealous or whatever. I’m not trying to get in your way of dating Angus because I secretly want more with you.’ I scan her face for any sign of reaction to my words, but she shows me none. Even better. ‘I just think you can do so much better. And I want you to be happy. That matters to me.’ And it really does.

  That’s a first for me too. I’ve never been with a woman I actually cared about. Don’t judge me—I’m following in my father’s footsteps, apparently, but at least I’m not stupid enough to marry any of them.

  ‘I just think...’

  I lift a finger to her lips, silencing her. ‘Listen.’ She bites the pad of my finger so I drop my hand and flick one of her nipples. She draws in a shuddering breath. A rush of power shifts through me.

  An idea shapes within me, almost perfect in its simplicity. We need to put
a stop point on what we’re doing. It has to end soon because, while I completely trust my own ability to stick to our rules, I worry sometimes that Asha could mistake what we’re doing for more, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her. It would kill me to do that.

  ‘My brother’s getting married in a month. Why don’t you come to the wedding? There’ll be a bunch of great guys there, friends of ours, any of whom would be a better fit for you than Angus Fienes.’

  Her eyes narrow imperceptibly. ‘And you’d seriously be okay with that?’

  I shrug. ‘Why not? This has to end some time.’

  I can’t fathom her expression. Her eyes are the most magnificent shade of green but they darken so they’re almost grey when she looks at me, a hint of something in their depths, and then she smiles, a teasing smile. ‘No stalking at the Four Seasons?’

  I lift my fingers. ‘Scout’s Honour.’

  ‘No way were you a Boy Scout.’

  ‘True, but I mean it.’

  She considers this for a moment. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll be happy for you.’

  She’s quiet as she mulls this over. ‘And then what? Find someone else to do this with?’

  ‘Maybe.’ I grin but, in all honesty, the idea of sleeping with another woman holds very little appeal. Yet. I know that will come, in time. It’s just that when Asha’s in the room my libido has no room for anyone else. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.’

  She pulls away from me to sip her wine. ‘You were wrong tonight.’

  ‘I know. It was a bit of a dick move.’

  Her eyes hold mine. ‘A bit?’

  I know that look in her eyes. It pulls at me like an invisible string. ‘Can I make it up to you?’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  My laugh is throaty. ‘Things that are better shown than described.’

  ‘Oh?’ She places the wineglass down more gently now.

  ‘From the minute you walked into the bar, I have been wanting to do this.’ I close the distance between us and fist her camisole, pushing it up her body quickly. She lifts her hands so I can sweep it over her head and toss it away from us. It’s a warm night but the penthouse is climate controlled, cool and comfortable, and her nipples tighten in response to the air.

  She lifts a finger to my chest, holding me at a distance, and there’s a line between her brows. I still, waiting for her to say whatever’s on her mind, even when my body is thrumming with need.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’

  I’m surprised to find myself hesitating, as though the words are blocked inside of me, so I grin to dispel that. ‘One more month then I’ll play Cupid myself. Deal?’

  She pulls back to look at me, her eyes flashing with something I don’t recognise. ‘Deal. Now show me how sorry you are, Theo Hart.’

  * * *

  It’s almost dawn and I know I should go. I’ve never slept the night at his place and I don’t plan on sleeping here now. He’s asleep, though. I can’t say I blame him. For hours he ‘apologised’ to me, using his clever mouth, hands and impressive cock, until my body was trembling from the number of orgasms he’d given me.

  I was livid when I left the Four Seasons. L-I-V-I-D. I mean, we’d discussed this and, even though I had misgivings, I went along on the date because Theo and I had agreed it made sense. And sure, my misgivings had grown once Angus met me outside the bar. I think his appeal at Caroline’s party had been that he was a lifeline in the midst of an event I really would have preferred not to be attending at all. Still, he is a nice guy, just not my cup of tea, and none of that is Theo’s business.

  He and I are so black and white in what we’re doing. And yet, deep down, I’m starting to worry that maybe we’re not.

  All I could think as I sat across from Angus, watching him flirt with me, was that it was wrong. Wrong on every level. To Angus, to Theo, to me. I’m a transparent person. I like to say what I think and do as I feel, and dating one guy while my body craves another just isn’t my jam.

  Lesson learned.

  But, at the same time, this thing with Theo needs to stop. This has to end some time. He said it, and he was completely right. He’s like quicksand and, despite the boundaries we’ve put in place, I can feel every spare second drawing me towards him. It’s not like I have much spare time and there are other things and people who should be getting some of it.

  I shift in the bed, pushing up on one elbow so I can see him better. My pulse fires in my veins at his familiar, addictive face. I ache to lean forward and drop a kiss to his lips, but he’s so peaceful that I don’t.

  He mentioned his brother’s wedding a while back. The idea of going to it with him is interesting. I need to think it through a little before I commit. After all, it will be a family affair and we’re not a real couple. It would be kind of out of place for me to attend. Then again, people take dates to weddings all the time. It’s not like anyone there needs to know we’re just fucking.

  It’s a month away. I have time to consider this.

  But, one way or another, that wedding is now our line in the sand. He suggested it, and at first I was shocked, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes.

  The thing is, I really do want a normal life one day. I didn’t get to know my mom, and my dad never got over losing her. I always felt like a huge part of me, of my family, was missing, and I guess I want to know what it feels like to be whole again, to be part of a family that isn’t damaged and grieving.

  And Theo-Sexual-Quicksand-Hart ticks enough boxes that, if I’m not careful, I’ll never look for anything beyond this. I’ll be sixty with a red-hot career and a fabulous fuck buddy but no husband and no kids, no grandkids, no family.

  This has to end and the fact we’ve set the date for that relaxes me. It’s a kind of safety net, making it impossible for me to want more than we’ve got. Simple.

  I pull away from the bed, grab my clothes and slink into the next room. I dress silently, risking one last peek at his sleeping figure before I go. He’s smiling and he’s hard. Good, he’s going to hate waking up and finding me gone...

  In the kitchen, I paint my lips with Garnet and press a perfect red kiss to a piece of paper near his fridge, then write:

  You were too beautiful to wake. See you soon.

  I hail a cab as I step out onto the pre-dawn streets of Manhattan, slipping into the back seat, closing my eyes and replaying a night that went from bad to magnificent. I was furious when I arrived but he unpicked my anger, piece by piece, until I felt only pleasure.

  A few hours later, I wake to a text.

  You got home all right?

  My heart turns over in my chest. It’s something he always does and it always makes me smile. I don’t know why he thinks he needs to check, given I’m twenty-eight and have therefore spent a large portion of my life fending for myself, but his consciousness of my safety fills me with something warm and gooey.

  Except it’s just Theo. Part of having a God complex is convincing yourself you’re somehow responsible for the safety of every mortal who crosses your path. He’ll be like this with whoever he’s sleeping with after me, he’s no doubt been like it with every woman he slept with before me—it’s not about me and it’s not about us, that’s just him.

  Yep. How’d you sleep?

  Three dots appear to indicate he’s typing.

  I thought you’d still be here when I woke up.

  I bite down on my lip.

  Sorry. Places to be, people to see etc. You know what it’s like when you’re busy and important.

  So glad you could squeeze me into your schedule at all then.

  Well, a girl has needs...

  Yes, yes, you do. Speaking of which...

  I wait, staring at the screen as the little dots keep dancing. It feels like it’s taking h
im a long time to finish his message.

  The wedding is in thirty-one days, in Sydney. I have to be there a few days beforehand, and I’m not back till the middle of this week. So we have about twenty-four days left. I know we don’t usually see each other more than a couple of times a week but for the next month consider me fully at your disposal. Any time you have ‘needs’, I’m up for it.

  My lips lift.

  That’s very generous of you.

  Generosity has nothing to do with it. My offer is completely self-serving.

  I smile, pushing out of bed, weary but energised all at once.

  Ah, I see. Are you saying you’d like *me* to be fully at *your* disposal for the next month?

  Caught red-handed.

  I smile again.

  If only we didn’t both have full-time jobs...

  If only we were both the boss...

  He has a point. When was the last time I didn’t work a long, exhausting day?

  I don’t reply and a moment later my phone buzzes.

  I fly back Wednesday. I’ll come to yours.

  No question, no invitation, just a bald statement of his intentions. But I smile because I’m glad, and I smile because I’m happy.

  Have fun in Sydney.

  Then, a moment later:

  But not too much fun.

  Without you? Never.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I HAVE A hangover to end all hangovers—I blame Holden for leading me astray—but wild horses wouldn’t keep me from Asha. I knock on her apartment door, check my phone for emails and then slip it into my back pocket, right as she opens the door.