The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) (9 page)

“All right,” I said. “You’ve convinced me.”

He set his glass on the shelf and filled the second one. The dark red liquid swirled as he passed it to me. I took a deep sniff. It was succulent, woodsy and strong.

Bennett touched his glass to mine in a tender clink. “To our ballerina,” he said softly.

“Thank you.” That shivery feeling I was getting used to in his presence returned. I took a sip. The flavor was powerful and rich. “It’s amazing,” I said.

“Like I said, worth waiting for.” His eyes said he wasn’t talking about the wine.

His gaze was so piercing that I couldn’t manage it. I moved away and walked along the corridor, looking at the horses. Where was Quinn?

I didn’t dare ask, so I just kept going, pausing at each stall.

When I came to Bennett’s stallion, I asked, “When did you get him? I can’t remember. It seems like he’s always been here.”

“Lucky? A couple years before Jezebelle came.”

“Was he a good racehorse? Did he win?”

“Not particularly. I think he has a few ribbons to his name, but didn’t earn his keep. That’s how we got him.”

Lucky shuffled forward. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you,” I told the horse. He nickered in response.

“I love how you talk to them,” Bennett said. He had moved closer.

“You don’t?” I asked.

“Oh, the usual. Whoa. Giddyup.”

“You say, ‘Giddyup’?” I couldn’t stop my giggle from bursting out.

“That’s what they say in all the cowboy movies!”

This was true. But I’d never heard anyone on this estate say it. “Sawyer teaches you to make a little noise with your mouth.”

Bennett leaned against the post between the stalls. “A noise? With your mouth?”

I blushed fiercely. “You know. Like this.” I made the sound, a sort of “chick chick” noise made by sucking air through clenched teeth.

Lucky popped his head up in confusion. I ran my hand along his nose. “Just practicing,” I said. “I guess anything works as long as it’s consistent. A few of the trainers say, ‘Come on.’ It’s really a combination of command and knees and reins.”

“I could probably train him to go when I say ‘Stop.’”

I shook my head at Bennett, but laughed anyway. “That would just be wrong.”

He sipped his wine, grinning at me. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

I twirled my glass to watch the dark liquid swish around. More was gone than I remembered drinking. “You have to admit I made a killer entrance to the party.”

“You did indeed,” he said.

This would make an easy segue, so I took it. “Quinn arranged for the carriage. Do you know where he went?”

Bennett shifted a little. “Well, he’s had to handle a little … issue.”

I withdrew my hand from Lucky and turned around. “What do you mean?”

“It’s probably already hit the gossip sites. Such dirty business.” He took another drink.

My stomach felt like lead. “Do you mean me? And Quinn?”

Bennett shook his head. “Oh, no. Even TMZ isn’t that on the ball. His last fiancée. Apparently she’s entered rehab over their ‘toxic relationship.’ Trying to rival the Bieber–Gomez thing, probably. She’s an actress. All publicity is good publicity.”

My stomach heaved. I racked my brains trying to remember when Quinn’s last split happened. “Hasn’t it been a few months?”

“More like a few weeks.” Bennett stared into his glass.

I pressed my back against the stall door, trying to keep the world from listing sideways. “Is he going to go help her?”

“Not sure,” Bennett said. “But he did get caught in a storm of paparazzi hanging out at the gate.”

“Don’t you have security or something?” I pictured Quinn going down in a heap of photographers, like football players on a fumble.

“Public road,” he said.

I downed the glass of wine in a single gulp and handed Bennett the glass. “I have to help him!” I said.

Bennett took the glass. “Might want to steer clear of it for a while.”

“Of course not!” I said. “He’ll need someone to lean on. To talk to!”

Bennett laughed. “Okay, Juliet. Go rescue him.”

I cursed my shoes as I dashed through the stable and out into the night. I was at the back gate in an instant, but the party was carrying on as if nothing had happened.

A few people reached out as if to stop me to talk, but I ignored them, frantically looking for Quinn.

He wasn’t anywhere out on the patio.

I strode boldly to the French doors. I had only been inside the mansion a few times. Once, when I was four or so, I fell down and Amelia carried me to the sink to wash off my bloody knees. A couple other times I went in with Quinn when we were very small and Mrs. B brought me in from the rain to play.

Once Quinn was old enough to really argue with his father, we never went inside together again. He wanted to be out and away from the mansion.

But now, I jerked on the handle and went right inside.

Directly beyond the doors was a long room full of furniture and an elegant wood bar. A few older party guests lounged here, drinking and talking quietly. They all turned to look at me when I burst inside.

Quinn wasn’t here.

From this room you could go straight through to the entrance foyer or off to the kitchen. I headed to the front, walking beneath the grand staircase with its gleaming curved banister.

A few men stood near the base of the stairs, smoking cigars. They stepped aside at my arrival and tucked the smoking ends away from me.

“Have you seen Quinn?” I asked them.

“He went flying out the front door a little while ago,” one said. “Haven’t seen him return.”

“Thank you,” I said. The front doors were formidable, twelve feet high at least. But before I could reach them, the butler appeared to pull one open. “Good evening, Miss Juliet,” he said.

“Quinn is still out there?” I asked him.

“I believe so,” he said.

I hurried through, out onto the porch where I’d first seen Quinn and Bennett when I arrived just a few days ago. It seemed like a lifetime already.

The circle was filled with cars. More were parked along the drive all the way to the gate.

A uniformed man approached. “Can I fetch your vehicle?” he asked.

“No, I came in a carriage,” I said absently as I rushed by, ignoring his confused expression.

The walk to the gate was long, but I could hear the commotion out there long before I arrived. Headlights pierced the dark in every direction and the bright burst of camera flashes lit the scene at random.

Quinn stood at the gate with two men in uniform, waving his arms to shoo them away. When I got close enough, the flashes began popping like fireworks going off. Quinn hurried to me. “Juliet! You can’t be out here!” he cried.

He seemed frantic and strung out. His bow tie was loose around his neck and his shirt was unbuttoned.

“Quinn, are you okay?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” he said. “Let’s get you back inside.”

We hurried toward the mansion. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

“Hell if I know. Apparently Margie — a friend of mine — checked into a celebrity rehab. The bloodsuckers showed up, hoping for a juicy headline. Shit. It’s a mess.” He raked his fingers through his sweaty disheveled locks.
 

“Just a friend,” I said, not particularly hiding my disbelief.

“Well, she is now. We were engaged once.”

“Thank you for being honest about that,” I said, struggling to keep up with him.

“I’m going to have to go out to California. Straighten this out.”

“Is she still — in love with you? Or what?” I couldn’t imagine checking into rehab over a man.

“No, no, it’s not like that.”

We arrived at the porch. I stopped by the door.

“What’s it like, then?” I knew I really had no claim on Quinn. He wasn’t my boyfriend or even a lover. We’d barely kissed.

But we had just gotten started!

“She’s fragile. Her self-esteem.” Quinn stopped talking when Adams opened the door. He pulled on my arm. “Come on.”

He led me inside and up the curving stairs. I hadn’t been up them since elementary school. The playroom was still open back then, and Mrs. B was the nanny for the little girls.

We didn’t turn to the left, where the nursery and children’s bedrooms had been. Quinn led me right. I’d never been this direction at all.

We passed three doors spaced well apart. Then Quinn pushed open the last one. Inside was a huge room like a hotel suite. Fireplace, sofas, a small bar to one side. And other inside doors that led to a bathroom and a darkened bedroom. I could just make out the four posters.

My heart sped up. This was Quinn’s space. His grown-up space.

He closed the door behind him. “I need a drink,” he said.

His hands pulled the bow tie free of his shirt and he tossed it on the bar. Then he shrugged out of the jacket. “Too hot for black tie,” he said. “What was I thinking?”

Of me
, I thought, but didn’t say it. I stood by the door, torn between helping him and fleeing this disaster.

He reached below the bar and brought two heavy tumblers to rest on the wood surface with a sharp clunk. I wanted to stop him from making one for me, but stayed silent. He dropped several blocks of ice into each glass and poured something amber from a crystal decanter.

I crossed the room and sat on a stool on my side of the bar. He pushed one of the glasses toward me. I picked it up.

He clinked his against mine, and I was reminded of the identical moment just a half hour ago with Bennett. But the feeling here was nothing like then. Quinn was frustrated and anxious. Bennett had talked softly, like he was wooing me.

“When will you leave?” I asked.

“Tonight.” He glanced at this watch. “Well, in the morning.”

My fingers tightened on the glass. “For how long?”

He tossed back the contents of his glass. “Hopefully just a day. Maybe two.”

That wasn’t too bad. A thin film of condensation had formed on my glass and I ran my finger down it, leaving a trail.

“Hey,” Quinn said. He reached out and covered my hand with his. “Why don’t you come with me?”

My heart fluttered. “Really?”

“Yes!” His face lit up. “We can make a vacation of it! See San Francisco. Eat on the pier!”

I pulled my hand away. “I can’t. My mother has a cancer appointment. I haven’t been there for her for any of her treatments. She’s getting the results, and I need to be here this time.”

His face drew into a frown. “Danika has cancer?”

I carefully checked my upset. Quinn had no reason to come in contact with Mother these days. Even if he saw her, he would probably take little notice of her appearance.

“Yes. Treatable. But I want to be here.”

Quinn came around the bar. This time he took both my hands in his. “Jules, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out, “Bennett did.”

His chin dropped. “He’s the better brother. Nobody doubts that.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Nobody is comparing you two.”

He moved in very close until his face was just inches from mine. “I’m completely captivated by you, Juliet.”

I could barely breathe. “Why?” I asked.

He tucked a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. “Because you aren’t afraid of anything. You took off for New York and made something of yourself. And then you came right back, even though nobody here deserved another minute of your time.”

“You do,” I said.

He lifted my hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I do?”

He leaned even closer. I could feel the breath of his words on my lips.

I didn’t answer, suspended, waiting for the coming kiss. I remembered the one in the studio and wanted another, and another. We didn’t have to go to the barn, of course not. That was a silly thing he did when he was young. We were here, in his rooms.

He freed my hand from his chin and his lips lightly brushed against mine. But just as the kiss began to expand, a sharp knock on the door startled us both.

“Mr. Quinn, your brother has arranged for a car to take you to the private airport. Your flight leaves in less than an hour.”

“What?” Quinn opened the door. “Now?”

Adams stood there in his formal butler attire. “He went to quite a lot of trouble since you mentioned you were anxious to leave straightaway.”

Quinn looked back at me, then to the butler. “What else did he say?”

“That this would be the last opportunity to use the company plane. He has business with it tomorrow.”

I ran a finger along the rim of the cold glass. It didn’t really matter to me now what decision Quinn made. He had baggage to deal with, and I was definitely in the way. I stepped down from the stool. “I’ll let you pack,” I said.

Quinn held out his hands. “Juliet, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “Thank you for a lovely party. The carriage was something I will never forget.”

The butler disappeared from the doorway. Quinn took me into his arms again. “I will be back soon.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’ll be here too.”

He let out a long sigh. “Okay. Take care of your mother.”

I stepped away. “I will.”

The walk along the hall and down the stairs felt long. The crowd was thinning now.

Nobody looked up at me this time when I passed through. I wasn’t sure if I should go out the front and around the wall or out the back and to the stable and around. Both seemed interminably long.

I paused in the foyer. Adams appeared again. “Your carriage awaits,” he said, and opened the front door.

He was right. The valet stood by the open door, gaping at it. He turned to look at me as if to say, “You weren’t kidding!”

The driver was back up top. Quinn. He thought of everything.

I crossed the porch and stepped into the coach. Inside a small lamp glowed. No one else was inside. I sat on the bouncy cushion, then noticed a small box tied up with ribbon.

The driver closed the door. I held the box in my lap, not willing to open it just yet. That would be when the night would end.

The carriage jumped forward. I pictured Cinderella falling into the prince’s lap with the jolt and wondered how anybody managed this mode of transportation with any level of grace.