Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels (132 page)

Her hand was on his arm, pale and delicate. His big hand covered hers. His head was angled downward, tilted slightly. Like a man going in for a kiss. Her fingers tore at the pages, turning to “
More photos inside!”

They were strolling down the street. Nicole’s arm was linked through Henry’s. His hands were in his pockets, but he didn’t seem at all unhappy about how close Nicole was pressing to him. According to “an anonymous source,” wealthy CEO Henry Medina and his ex, tech heiress Nicole Rossi, were back together after nearly a year apart.

Henry was “very happy,” according to the source, and “finally ready to settle down.” “He realized what he wanted,” a close family friend reported. The article went on to say that recent rumors of an affair with a young dancer were blown out of proportion. They didn’t come right out and say Sophie was a call-girl. At least not in this article. But the subtext that Henry was drowning his sorrows over his lost love with fast women was heavy in every word. But oh, the reporter rejoiced, the two lovebirds had finally found their way back to each other. How romantic.

He hadn’t wasted any time when she’d blown him off. A few ignored calls—she’d deleted two messages from him without listening this morning when she woke up—and he was back in Nicole’s arms. In fact, these pictures were probably taken before that. Maybe the messages she’d skipped were brush offs. She’d never know now. That was probably best.

Sophie tossed the paper in the trash and glanced down at her phone. Who was the unknown number? A reporter, looking for a quote from the rebound screw? Nicole, calling to rub her face in the reunion. She dialed her voicemail and listened with a clenched jaw.

It was neither. Instead, Carl’s usually jovial voice informed her that they needed to talk. “I know what you think, Sophie. Or, at least, I know what I’d think if I were you. But at least hear me out.”

She deleted the message, not about to let Carl sweet talk her into... whatever it was he wanted to sweet talk her into. The comedian had a way with words and could be persuasive. Hadn’t he been the one to convince her to give Henry a second chance? Well, she wasn’t about to give him a third.

Speak of the devil. Her phone rang again, and the number that popped up was none other than Henry’s. What could he possibly have to say for himself? Heat burned high in her cheeks. Her hands clenched into fists. She jerked the phone to her ear.

“Save it.”

“Sophie! I’ve been trying to get hold of you since last night. Listen—” There was an edge of panic in his voice. He’d clearly been caught out by the article. Sophie barked a rough laugh.

“I think I’ve listened to you enough, Henry. There’s nothing you could possibly say now.”

He cursed. “It’s not what you think.” If her throat hadn’t closed up, she would have laughed again. Isn’t that what someone who’d been caught doing something wrong said?

“Oh? Nicole isn’t your ex-girlfriend? Or, excuse me,
ex
-ex-girlfriend.”

“She isn’t. I mean, she was. Damn it. Can we not do this over the phone? Where are you? I went by your apartment but you weren’t there and every time I call the studio, Darren hangs up on me.”

And when I get my hands on that snake
, Darren had said, in tones dripping venom. He’d seen the news already. No wonder he was behind her little vacation all of the sudden.

“Don’t go to the studio. Stay away from my apartment. Stay away from
me
, Henry.” Her voice was thick with anger. But it was better than the tears that were prickling at her eyes. She blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

“Sophie—”

“I know it was all about the charade and the scandal, but I thought we were at least being honest with each other, Henry. I told you things...” She swallowed audibly. “And then you went and told
her
?”

“What are you talking about? Told who what?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. But she was babbling a little.

Her thoughts were churning and her mouth couldn’t keep up. “You told Nicole about my accident. About my
scars
. You might as well have shoved a knife right into my heart. It would hurt less.”

“I don’t know where you’re getting this. I never told Nicole anything about you, Sophie. If one of the papers is saying I did then—”

“How’d she know then?” People on the street were starting to look at her. Sophie knew her voice was getting louder, but couldn’t help it. She tried to reign in the volume a little. “How’d she know what my leg looks like, Henry? I think you know how few people have seen it since the accident.”

“Sophie, I swear. Look, please just come meet me. Or tell me where you are and I’ll come there. We can talk this out.” A car door closed with a thunk. She recalled the buttery leather seats of his Maybach beneath her thighs the morning Henry had taken her to the building site.

Her heart turned itself inside out. “No, Henry. We can’t. There’s nothing more to say. I’m done being the pawn in whatever game it is you’re playing. Just... leave me alone.” She was shaking, the last few words a desperate plea.

“Sophie.” Henry’s voice was soft, low, coaxing. She squeezed her eyes shut, alternating waves of rage and anguish pouring through her.

“You’re killing me, Henry.”

There’s was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by a moment of silence. “Don’t say that Sophie, you don’t know how much those words hurt me.”

“I don’t know anything anymore. All I know is that my life was fine before you came into it and ruined everything!”

When Henry spoke again, his tone was flat and distant. “If that’s how you feel—”

“I want you to leave me the fuck alone. Is that clear enough for you?” Sophie snapped. Her voice was harsh. Her throat ached with anger, and with the sobs she was holding back. She was done with Henry Medina.
Done
.

“Crystal. Goodbye, Sophie.” He hung up. Her hands were shaking so bad it took her three attempts to shove her phone back into her jeans.

She had no idea how long she stood out in front of Bistro pretending to stare at the menu. She was pretty sure her mother called her name multiple times though, because she looked at Sophie with wrinkled brows and took her arm.

“You ready to have some lunch?”

Actually, Sophie’s stomach had shriveled to the size of a walnut. Whatever hunger pangs she’d had previously were totally gone. “Um... mom? I was thinking... Maybe...”

Her mom squeezed her arm. “Not in the mood for lunch, huh?” Sophie gave her mother a wan smile. That was one of the good things about home. That was why she came here when she was at her lowest. Her parents always knew what she needed even when she couldn’t say it out loud.

“Not really, no.” Her mom patted her hand and began leading her toward the library and her car.

“That’s alright. We’ll take my car back home and have us a girl’s night in. Maybe watch Pretty Woman or something and pop some popcorn. How’s that sound?”

Sophie thought of her night at Wayne and Darren’s and their discussion about Pretty Woman. The hooker and the billionaire. Her and Henry. Her stomach tightened even more. “Um, maybe not Pretty Woman. But the rest sounds nice.” She covered her mom’s hand with her own and squeezed.

“No,” her mom said, shaking her head. “I guess you wouldn’t want to watch that one. Sorry, honey, I didn’t think.”

They had made it as far as the Bait & Tackle when her mother spoke. Sophie stiffened beside an outdoor display of fly wheels. “What do you mean?”

Her mother sighed. “Oh, Sophie. I saw the news. I know we’re backwoods out here, but we have the internet. And, unfortunately, the tabloids.”

“It’s... I’m not...” Her throat clogged with tears. She blinked away the sting in her eyes. Rennie reached up and touched her cheek.

“Of course you’re not. I never thought it for a single second. Those papers always turn something into nothing.” She tugged Sophie’s arm, getting her walking again. “Not that I wouldn’t love you, even if you were, of course.”

“Mom!” Sophie gasped. Her mother snorted. Sophie bit her lip. “Does... does Dad know?” She’d thought neither of her parents had any idea what was going on in the City. After all, it’s not like they cared who some real estate mogul they’d never met was sleeping with, or what all five boroughs thought of her.

“Your father doesn’t read any of those trashy papers. And anyone who tried to be mean-spirited and tell him about it... well, I just strangled them and threw out back of the woodshed.”

“Mom!” She knew her mother wasn’t serious, but she was still shocked to hear her say it.

“Oh, hush. I’m just messing with you. I did think about it though, when Delia Maple tried to bring it up while your dad was buying his lotto tickets. ‘Oh, Jim, I hope you win. Then that daughter of yours wouldn’t have to worry about money, huh?’” Her mother’s nasal impression of the bleach blonde old biddy who ran the beauty parlor in town was pretty spot on.

Sophie actually felt her lips twitch. “Well, in that case, I’ll go get the shovel.”

“That’s my girl.” Her mother squeezed her arm in a sort of hug as they maneuvered around a mother pushing a stroller and trailing a toddler.  “So, am I allowed to ask what’s going on with this Medina boy? I take it he has something to do with why you’re here.”

“Medina boy,” her mother said. Just like she’d said “that Riley boy” when Sophie was fourteen and had fallen head over heels for a boy in her class. Her mother had never referred to him by his first name, even though Sophie had nursed her crush for years. Come to think of it, her mother had rarely referred to Christian by name either. Christian didn’t even get a last name. It was always just “Where is he?” or “Are you bringing him along?” Maybe she should have taken that as a sign.

“There’s nothing going on, mom. I was giving him private lessons. We... had a bit of a fling. It’s over now. That’s all.” Her cheeks burned as she admitted her relationship with Henry. She and her mother had never really talked about boys. Sophie had always been so focused on her dance, it hadn’t really been an issue. Even David, aka “that Riley boy”, had been a crush she’d never acted on.

They’d had the whole birds and bees talk when Sophie got her first period, and then the whole self-respect, don’t do anything you’re not comfortable doing talk when Sophie went on her first date years later. And that was about it. Her mother studied her face with shrewd eyes.

“You don’t look like that’s all, sweetheart. Forgive your old mom for being blunt, but you look like this young man has put your heart through the ringer.”

Tears pricked Sophie’s eyes. This was the downside to coming home too. She cleared her throat and shook her head. “No. Not really. It was just a silly fling. He spun my head a little with all the fancy clothes and cars and stuff, but it’s no big deal. I’m just... readjusting. Getting my head facing forward again.” She forced her lips to curve upward.

If only it was that simple. A turned head. It should be. Henry hadn’t had enough time to really get under her skin and into her heart. It was a matter of weeks since they’d first met. And yet... Sophie cut the thought off at the root.

Her mother stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face Sophie. She took Sophie’s hands between her cheeks. “Honey, it’s important to see a thing for what it is, and to let it be that. There are always going to be a lot of outside influences... people, society, whatever... all trying to add their two cents. But you have to decide what’s really what with your own mind and heart. Okay?” She let go of Sophie’s face, tucked her arm back through Sophie’s and began walking again.

“If this thing with that Medina boy was just a fling, well... then let it be that. Don’t try and make it something it’s not. I think a lot of grief in the world gets caused because we have a tendency to forget how our lives and experiences color our perception, and correct for whatever distortion that causes.” She shook her head.

Sophie frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Mom.” Rennie smiled as they turned the corner into the library parking lot. The smell of sausage wafted from the delicatessen next door.

“Well, like your rear view mirror. You know how it has the little ‘objects may be closer than they appear’ warning? It’s because when you look in it, it’s not giving you a 100% accurate view of the world as it is, right? Those things that look far away? They’re really not.” Her mother raised her brows.

“So, you’re saying I’m making a big deal out of something I shouldn’t? Her voice trembled.

Her mother snorted, fishing in her pocket for her keys. “No, sweetheart. I’m saying...” She sighed. “I’m saying make sure you’re not looking through the rearview mirror and mistaking how close the oncoming car is.”

“I have no idea what that means.” She giggled. It bubbled out of her with surprising suddenness. And then she was laughing. She wasn’t even sure why, and for sure there was an edge of the hysterical in it, but it was the first real laughter she’d felt since she’d walked up outside Henry’s building yesterday.

Her mother joined in, shaking her head. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’m just a crazy old lady. You ready to go home?” The laughter tapered off and then drained out of her. She felt a little better, more calm. But still scooped out and hollow like a gourd. Sophie shook her head.

“I think I’m going to just walk around for awhile. Look in the mirror, or whatever. I’ll meet you at home in a bit?” Her mother brushed a kiss on Sophie’s cheek and squeezed her shoulder.

“Of course, sweetheart. Talk all the time you need.”

Sophie smiled, feeling for the first time in a day like it wasn’t a painful chore. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too, snickerdoodle.” Her mom always had a million and one nicknames for her. Sophie chuckled, waving as she watched her mom climb into the car and pull away.

She watched for several minutes, just staring into the distance as the silver Saab got smaller and smaller. She sighed. Was there something to what her mother had said? Was she seeing everything in a funhouse mirror?

Her phone buzzed. Slimy snakes coiled in her belly as she pulled it from her pocket. She really couldn’t deal with talking to Henry again right now. Or Darren. Or anyone. Sophie wanted to think. The number on the screen was an unlisted one, but she recognized it from the earlier call. Carl. He wanted her to hear him out. Well, she would. But not right now.