The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele

37

Baron

I glance at the view outside the window of my penthouse apartment. The lights of London twinkle back at me, their cold, silvery haloes a reflection of my surroundings. Chrome and steel, blacks and browns. The colors and lack of textures is perfect for how I feel.

I raise the glass of whiskey, drain it. Then head back to the bar to top up my glass. At this rate, I am going to become an alcoholic, which is probably not a bad idea. Though, even the alcohol is not helping me of late. The thoughts in my head, the visions of Ava laughing, dancing, teasing me… The images overwhelm me. Truthfully, I haven’t tried too hard to stop thinking of her. Why should I, when it is all I have left of our time together?

Sometimes I wonder if I imagined it all. Spending time with my best friend and my woman... It had been a special kind of heaven…and hell. Both, rolled into one. I had done the right thing...leaving her… So, maybe it had been cowardly. I hadn’t been able to face her, to tell her that I was giving her up. Hell, I’d been worried that if I saw her face, I’d lose all reasoning, that I’d plead with her to walk away with me. And she didn’t deserve that. She didn’t need me putting her on the spot again.

I slide my hand inside the pocket of my pants. My fingers brush something. I pull it out, glare at the purple hairband. Her purple hairband that I've carried around with me, since the day I first met her outside her house. I bring it to my nose and sniff it. Instantly, the lingering scent of jasmine laced with raspberries fills my senses. My groin hardens, heat flushes my chest. Fuck. I'll never be rid of her. I'll never get of her... and she...? She loves Edward. I had seen the distress in her eyes, when she’d thought he was trapped inside the burning building. I’d seen the relief in her eyes when we had both staggered out. How she had run to him, and embraced him. And seeing them together had clarified everything for me. I’d done what was needed. I had taken care of her while Edward was away. And now… I need to get out of their way. They need to get on with their lives together… While me? I have to figure out how the hell I am going to live mine.

I stuff the hairtie back into my pocket.

One step in front of the other, soldier. Keep going. Don’t stop.Tunnel vision. Focus on…what? Making money? Yeah, that’s the one thing I’m good at. I may not have worked directly with the Seven the last few years, but I haven’t lost my touch for keeping on top of my investments. Truthfully, work is the only thing that has managed to distract me. When I am applying my mind to mathematical equations…and tinkering with the algorithm that Saint and Sinner invented to forecast the movements of the stock market… For those few hours, at least, I have been able to push her to the back of my mind… Kind of…

Frankly, she is always on my mind. The scent of her is entrapped in my skin, the taste of her, a remembrance on my palate. The memories of her coil in my heart. And I guard them jealously. If this is all I have to hold onto… Then I’d be a fool to forget a single moment of the time I had with her.

I drain my glass, reach for the bottle again, when the intercom buzzes.

I walk over, depress the button and the porter’s face appears. "I have a Ms. Ava Erikson here for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Ms. Ava—"

"Send her up."

I step back from the screen. What the—? What is Ava doing here? How had she found out where I’m staying? Probably, through one of the Seven… Or their wives. I shake my head. Why had Edward allowed her to come? Likely, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t been on the last few calls with the Seven either. I figured it’s because he needs time to concentrate on his new relationship. I have tried hard not to be angry or jealous about it… And have failed. In a way, it’s good that Ed hasn’t been on the calls. Likely, I wouldn’t have been able to disguise my bitterness. So, I had given her up. Doesn’t mean I have to be gracious about my loss, does it?

So, what the hell is she doing here? I head back to the bar, topping up my glass.

Behind me, I hear the elevator doors part. I hear the click of her heels against the marbled floors. Is she wearing the same purple tipped boots that I had seen her in so often? The scent of jasmine invades the air, and the blood rushes to my groin. Fuck. I haven’t even seen her, and already, my body is betraying me. I cannot think of her in this fashion, cannot allow her to play havoc with what little bit of restraint I have managed to hold onto.

"What are you doing here?" I growl.

She doesn’t answer, but the scent of jasmine intensifies. Her footsteps approach. I raise my glass to my lips, and damn it, my hand trembles. It actually trembles.

"Answer, the question," I snap.

"No, you answer mine first." Her voice cuts through the space.

I turn, look her up and down. "Making demands, are we?"

"Not in a good mood, are we?"

"I was, until you came through the door."

Her lips tighten. "Still the same old alphahole, I see."

"Leopard. Spots, and all that," I drawl. "Why did you come here, Ava?"

She glances around the space, then back at me, "Uh, nice place."

"It’s cold and boring." Everything you are not. "Next?"

She locks her fingers together in front of her body. "Ah, can I get a glass of water?"

I hesitate and she frowns, "Come on. Surely, even you can extend that much hospitality to me?"

"Not." I growl, "But what-fucking-ever." I head behind the bar, pour a glass of water and hand it to her. Keeping the barrier of the bar between us is cowardly, I know…but it’s best this way. If I stand next to her, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.

She drains the water, places the glass back on the counter.

"Well?" I glance at my watch, "Better make it quick. I have a date."

"No, you don’t."

I arch an eyebrow, "And you know that, how?"

"Because you love me."

Shit.I feign a yawn. "There you go, deluding yourself. If I loved you, I wouldn’t have left you."

"It’s because you love me that you left me."

I smirk. "This isn’t one of your sweet romances."

"I only read erotic romances. The ones in which the villain is also the hero."

"Neither of which I am." I place my elbow on the counter. "I don’t play any part in your story, babe."

She pales. "I don’t believe you."

"Better believe it."

"You still love me."

"And you love Edward."

"I love you more."

"And you arrived at that brilliant piece of deduction, how?"

"Sometimes it takes absence and time to put things in perspective. After you left… I missed you. Nothing was the same. I was with Edward but…" she swallows, "all I could think about was you. I realized that you are the one I want. You are the one I need. You are the person I want to be with, Baron."

Something hot stabs at my chest. I fold my fingers into fists, glare at her as she shuffles her feet.

"Edward and I are no longer together." She lowers her chin and folds her fingers together in front of her. "It's been a month since we decided to break up."

"A month?"

She nods. "I wanted to give myself enough time to make sure that I knew exactly what I had to do next."

"I know what you need to do next." I jerk my chin toward the door and her gaze widens. "You should leave."

"No."

"You need to get out of here, Ava."

She shakes her head, "I know you're upset Baron—"

"Upset?" I laugh, "That's putting it mildly. You made up your mind; I've made peace with it. I am ready to move on—"

"No, you're not."

"Oh?"

"If you were, you wouldn't be glaring at me like you'd like to spank me and kiss me simultaneously."

My cock twitches; my groin hardens. The thought of marking that sweet curved backside of hers, right before I turn her over and bury my face in her melting core—I stiffen, and no, I don’t mean only my dick. I square my shoulders, crack my neck. "Nice dialogue—" I drawl, "but it's too late."

"It’s not."

"It's time you took that sweet tush of yours out of here."

"Not yet." She places her bag on the counter, pulls out her phone and places it face-up. Then swipes across the screen. She pulls up a playlist.

"What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

She digs in her bag, pulls out her hip scarf and ties it around her hips. The material clings to her luscious curves, emphasizes the tiny span of her waist. She takes a few steps back into the center of her room, and juts out a hip. She places a hand on it, then tips her chin up, "Can you press play, please?"