The Heir & I: Taming The Billionaire (19 page)

I shook my head.

“What you mean to say is that you felt something w
hen we made love,” I insisted. “You felt something for me, as a person and a lover, not just as a friend and a trysting partner, and it scared you to death. And until you’re finally willing to admit that, I’m not sure if I can continue this little charade.”

I took in my breath as he swept me up in his arms
, drawing me closer than close. Oliver shut his eyes tight and inhaled my scent; his hands scaling my back and stroking my hair as though he was memorizing my every trait and feature. For a moment I smiled as I sensed his closeness; sensing also an imminent confession of his true feelings for me.

My smile dissolved, and my heart broke, as he whispered in
my ear, “My dad was watching us. He frowned like he sensed that something was wrong.”

Breaking our clench, I stepped away from my dance partner.

“S
omething is wrong,” I told him. “And while I have no wish to hurt Harry or to harm his company, I do need you to realize that you, Oliver, have hurt me.”

Oliver said nothing; only gathered me up in two strong arms and pu
lled me close to him once again, this time whispering in my ear, “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Lily. You’re so special to me. I do care about you. It’s just that I’m confused right now, about so many things.” He paused here, giving my body an affectionate squeeze. “One thing I’m not confused about, however, is that I need to keep my job and my family together and in order to do that, I need you now more than ever. Could we keep on seeing each other just a little while longer, for Harry’s sake?”

“I don’t know, Oliver,” I snapped in immediate
return, freezing in his arms. “At this point I feel like I’m being taking advantage of, even used. And it’s not as though I owe you any favors. If anything, Oliver, you owe me for all the pain you’ve caused…”

Oliver sighed.

“You owe me n
othing, Lily,” he assured me. “As I said, though, this is for the sake of your job and, as I said, for the sake of my father. Will you do it for his sake?”

I thought for a moment, then nodded.

“I’ll do it for Harry,” I relented with a sigh, adding with arched eyebrows, “Does he look any happier now?”

Oliver chuckled.

“Apparently he’s no longer concerned,” he replied, adding with a laugh, “He’s sitting at his table, balancing his checkbook.”

Joining in his laughter, I continued to move and sway in his arms as our bodies relaxed; falling into an easy rhythm in time with the romantic, classically inspired music.

“This music is beautiful, I must ad
mit,” I admitted with a shrug. “And as usual, Clark, you do know your way around a dance floor.”

Oliver shook his head.

“Only because I have the best partner this evening,” he whispered, pulling my body closer
to his as I sank in his arms. “And for all evenings.”

Once again I rested my head on Oliver’s shoulder, and he tightened his hold around my waist
. Oh make no mistake, I was still angry at him, but he did know how to cut a rug. I even smiled slightly as he pressed two tender lips against my cheek.

“You’re the best, Lil,” he whispered in my ear.

“Yeah, well don’t let it get around,” I shot him a smile as the song ended, and we broke our clench to ap
plaud the band. “These guys are good.”

For the first time that evening, Oliver grinned.

“They are, and I’m very
glad you’re having a good time finally,” he smiled, opening his arms to me. “Care for another dance?”

I nodded.

“Sure,” I assented, adding as I turned away, “Right after I make a requisite trip to the little girls’ room.”

Moments later I found myself standing at the center of a restroom generally only seen in those old
classic movies. The soap dishes alone were so bloody peerless that I could see my reflection in them. The floors beneath me bore such a shiny sheen that I feared them freshly washed, meaning that I presently lived in fear of slipping and sliding in my inordinately high heels and collapsing face first on the inhumanly immaculate floor.

When I slipped into the spacious, upscale cubicle that contained the restroom’s more personal accommodations, I saw a beautiful pi
ece of porcelain furniture that on first glance anyway, looked more like a freshly upholstered porcelain chair, you know, the kind in which debutantes park their surgically sculpted rears.

I emerged from the restroom to encounter two new visitors to this bizarrely decadent scene; one of which, of course, was a uniformed attendant that stood poised to h
and me a swanky velvety towel. The other came in the form of a slender blonde who absolutely devastated in a slinky backless dress, one whose pure golden color blended in with her bronzed skin.

“Good evening,” I nodded, smiling graciously as I approached the bank of gold-fauceted sinks that fronted the deluxe lavatory (I wasn’t even about to call this place a rest stop).

“It will be for you,” the woman sniffed, tossing the locks of her long golden h
air with a certain air of barely concealed annoyance.

Immediately I recognized the airy, high pitched voice that flowed betwee
n the woman’s cherry red lips. Less recognizable was the cold stare and catty words that seemed to be coming from the mouth of a total stranger.

“Do I know you?”
I arched my eyebrows.

The blonde nodded.

“I do believe we talked briefly on the phone a few months ago,” she sniffed, foldin
g her slender arms before her. “I’m Kelli.”

I froze.

“With an i?” I asked finally, nodding as my memory cleared to reveal the brief phone conversation we’d shared months earlier.

Kelli smirked.

“The same,” she clarified.

I nodded, noting suddenly that the bathroom attendant was leaning her plush capped head forward at a most distinct angle, at once very interested in our conversation.

“You used to date Oliver,” I thought out loud, slipping my hands inside the overpriced sink and activating its faucet, wondering vaguely if moderately hot water could be used as a weapon of defense—that is, if the need arose.

Kelli threw back her flawless head, letting loose with a perfectly executed haughty laugh.

“Yes, I used
to date Oliver,” she sniffed. “But our relationship is ancient history by now. I haven’t seen him since last night!”

Withdrawing my hands from the sink, I planted them instead on my hips and looked her straight in the eyes.

“How do I
know you’re telling the truth?” I inclined my head in her direction.

Reaching immediately into the blue seashell purse that hung haphazardly from her slender shoulder, Kelli withdrew a metallic cell phone from its depths and pressed a few buttons; ultimately displaying a glossy photo that told the truth of the tale.

Standing beside Kelli was none other than Oliver Clark, my date for the evening; although his face was part
ially obscured as he kissed Kelli senseless.

“I took this shot just last night, when Oliver and I hit the dance floor at Club Freak,” she sneered, shoving the phone
in my face. “I’d be more than pleased to show you the photos we snapped of what happened next, but I don’t want to end up in jail for decimating pornography over my phone.”

I grinned.

“Decimating,” I repeated, adding as I slapped her back, “You just
managed a four syllable word. I’m beyond impressed, Kelli with an i.”

Her smirk dissolving, an enflamed Kelli shoved her phone in her purse and actually threw a silencing hand up in my direction.

“Impressive,” I said aloud, adding as I stroked my c
hin in a show of deep thought. “I didn’t think that anyone over the age of twelve struck the ‘talk to the hand’ stance anymore.”

Gasping outright, Kelli graced me with a second impressive hair flip before turning for the door.

“What-ever.” S
he managed yet another brilliant comeback, adding over her skinny shoulder, “Oliver is just a little bit like a politician, isn’t he? He has his fun with the actresses and models, then insists on bringing his Jacqueline Kennedy clone to formal functions… just for show. I, on the other hand, came on the arm of the drummer in tonight’s house band. A man that is at least honest about his taste in ladies.”

I laughed.

“Well, all things considered, I’d say I’m doing pretty darned well tonight,” I called after her, adding with a broad beam, “I’ve b
een compared to Scarlett O’Hara, Vivien Leigh and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis during the course of one evening, you, on the other hand, just compared yourself to a porn star.”

Kelli stopped stock still for a moment; silently fuming as her tiny brain made a desperate attempt to come up with a scathing response.

“What-ever!” she finally exclaimed, making a beeline through the door.

Bursting out into laughter, the aging bathroom attendant engaged me in a congratulatory high five
as I myself turned for the door, leaving her a generous tip as I bid her goodbye.

My beam dissolved moments later, as I headed back in the direction
of the dance floor where a smiling Oliver awaited me with open arms.

“Care for another dance?”
he invited me, speaking loudly over the opening strings of a classic waltz.

“No,
” I snapped, even more loudly. “I would, however, like to have a talk. Now.”

Soon Oliver and I found ourselves ensconced
in an elegant sitting room adjoining the banquet hall; a room furnished with floral print furniture, plush carpeting and lush examples of Victorian artwork.

Ignoring our posh surroundings, I slammed the door behind me and came to stand stock still before a silent, wide eyed Oliver.

“Lily, what’s wrong?” he asked, shaking his head from side to side in a show of disbelief.

I smiled, but not kindly.

“Oh not much, Oliver,” I told him, adding with a shrug, “I just hate it when I go to take a leak and end up in a verbal confrontation with one of your girlfriends.”