The Wager: A Billionaire Romance (11 page)

BOOK: The Wager: A Billionaire Romance
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"I'm sorry, we should get going. I promised to take you to the opera and that is where we shall go," he said abruptly.

He stood up from the couch and reached out his hand to me. I looked up at him before finally taking his hand. The contact of his skin sent a shock through me as we touched. I could tell by the surprise on his face that he felt the connection too. I tried to pull back, reeling from my reaction to his touch, but he held my hand firmly in his and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

We walked towards my front door where he placed my wrap around my shoulders. Each brush of his fingertips against my skin sent shivers down my spine. I fought hard not to tremble under his touch, but I'm sure he felt it.

Finally, we left my apartment and headed towards a black limo. His driver was waiting outside for us with the door open. Roman helped me in before sliding in after me. Seated next to me, his closeness nearly overwhelmed me. I could feel his hard thigh pressed against my leg and the warmth from his body sitting so close to me. His cologne was subtle and manly and I wanted to press my face against his neck and take a deep breath, breathing in his scent.

The driver pulled out from the curb and began the drive uptown. We arrived at the opera house soon after. Roman stepped out of the car and handed me out. It was like attending a movie premier, with cameras and limos lining up outside. I never expected the opera to garner this amount of attention.

"Is it always like this?" I asked Roman.

"The opening night is usually a bit grand, but tonight the Prince of Wales is rumored to be attending. We'll probably get frisked by the Royal Protection Squad," he said giving me a wink.

"Oh fun," I said a little hysterically.

We joined the throng of people lined up in front of the metal detectors waiting to pass through. I looked around me to see men in tuxedos and women in their evening gowns decked out in diamonds and furs. Roman nodded his head at some acquaintances but made no move to go over and greet them. The line moved quickly and soon we were inside the opera house.

I took a moment to look around, awed by the grandeur of it all. It was sad to admit, but in all my years living in the city, I'd never been inside the Met. It reminded me of the grand era of the gilded age with lush red velvet and shimmering crystal chandeliers. Roman led us to our seats which were in a private box on the Parterre level, center stage. We had an unimpeded view of the stage and as I settled into my seat, I could see several other patrons on nearby boxes looking our way.

"It feels like one of those Regency novels," I whispered confidingly. Roman looked at me curiously, his head cocked to the side. "You know, how the wealthy rakish aristocrat brings some unknown upstart to the opera and all the matrons and jilted debutantes are up in arms?" I explained.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I take it I'm the wealthy rakish aristocrat?" he laughed.

"Naturally," I said.

Soon the lights went down and the opera started. It was a wonderful production and I soon got lost in the music and was too busy trying to keep up with the subtitles on the screen in front of my seat to focus on anything else. When intermission came, I looked up surprised. The lights came on and I found Roman looking at me with a smile on his lips.

"You look like a child who's had her favorite toy taken away," he said, noticing my frown.

"I can't believe it's intermission already."

"Come on let's go," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"Dinner."

We made our way to the restaurant inside the opera house and were seated quickly. Again there were several people who looked like they were trying to get Roman's attention, but he shot them down with a quelling look. I was anxious to get back in time before intermission was over. I didn't want to miss a minute of the performance. Roman just laughed at me, and leaned back in his seat in that elegant and casual way of his.

"Don't worry. We won't be late," he said. "I promise."

The food soon arrived and we both enjoyed the meal. Roman and I talked about the opera and the performance of the singers. He told me he had seen at least five different productions of
La Boheme
, but so far this one was turning out to be his favorite.

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "That's high praise coming from someone like you. Even though this is my first opera, I think I'll have to agree with you. I had no idea what I've been missing all these years. It's much different seeing it preformed than hearing it on audio only."

"Next month they've got a performance of
Die Fledermaus
that I think you'd like," he said.

My eyes lit up at the mention of going to another opera. If it was as good as this one was turning out to be, I had no doubt I'd enjoy it. I had to admit though, that part of the enjoyment was being with Roman. He was a perfect companion, thoughtful and quiet, but knowledgeable and willing to explain parts to me that I didn't understand.

"I'll have to remember that," I said.

Soon dinner was over and we headed back to our box. The second act was just as good and I found myself actually shedding tears when Mimi died. I felt like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
, even down to the red dress. The thought brought me out of my temporary sadness. Had I become a movie cliché? I quickly shrugged that off and refocused my attention on the performance in front of me. When the last note was sung and the lights came back on I leaned back in my chair and let out a sad sigh.

Roman pulled me up and placed his hand on my back as he led me out of the theater. The gesture itself was pretty tame, but my skin felt scorching where his hand was pressed. Neither of us said a word as we maneuvered our way out of the building and back towards his limo.

 

 

***

The tension in the car was overwhelming. Neither of us spoke for a long time. I looked out the window, trying to gain some semblance of composure. This was an entirely new experience for me. I'd never had a reaction like this to any man before. I felt like putty, ready to melt at any moment if he would just look at me or hold me in his arms. Normally I'd roll my eyes at girls like that--thinking they were weak or stupid, but now that I found myself in the situation, I knew exactly what it felt like.

If I thought the past few days of not seeing him had cooled our ardor, I now realized how wrong I was. The absence had only intensified it. I was aware of everything about him in that moment--the way his muscles were tensed and his fists clenched in his lap, and how he stared unseeingly out the window, his lips frowned in thought. Soon the silence in the car was becoming so unbearable I thought I was going to burst.

"What did you think of the opera?" I asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Roman turned his head to look at me, his eyes gleaming under his lazy lids. "I liked it," he said.

"What was your favorite part?" I asked.

"You know, at this moment, I can't recall," he said, giving me a lopsided grin.

We arrived back at my apartment and the limo pulled up to the curb outside my building. This was the moment I had dreaded and looked forward to. All night had been building up to this point. Roman waited; his hand paused on the door handle as he looked at me. His intense gaze held me enthralled. A slow sensual smile was forming on his lips.

The partition was up in the limo and it felt like we were in our own little world. The thought of what the limo driver felt about our delay quickly flittered through my mind, but I didn't dwell on it too long. Being with Roman in such a tight enclosed space required all my senses and concentration.

"I'm sorry," I said, giving my head a tiny shake. "Did you say something?"

He laughed, the smile crinkling the lines around his eyes. "I said, will you invite me up or do I have to make up some excuse like I have to use your bathroom?"

"Oh," I said, not knowing how to respond.

I turned my head back to look out the window, a million thoughts running through my mind. I bit my lip, trying to come to a decision. This was it. If I invited him up, I knew there was no turning back. As I stared at his reflection on the glass behind me, I made up my mind. It was time to live a little. I was 26-years-old, single, and the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me up until last Saturday was standing in line for a midnight showing of the last Harry Potter film.

I turned back to face Roman. "Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee?" I asked.

His eyes lost that teasing playfulness, and in its place was a look of pure intensity. I had to suck in a sharp breath, I was so surprised by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Let's go," he said.

He exited the car before turning back to hand me out. I walked towards my building, fumbling with the keys in my clutch. As I looked back, I saw he had remained at the car, speaking with his driver through the open window of the passenger door. A few moments later, he headed towards me and the driver pulled away from the curb.

"Is he coming back?" I asked.

"Not tonight," Roman answered.

I stared at him, a little stunned at his bold statement. But deep down my body thrilled at the thought of Roman spending the night. We walked up to my apartment in silence. I could feel his stare on my back side as I walked ahead of him. Once we were at my front door, he leaned against it, his shoulder resting on the frame, and grinned at me in that charming way of his.

"Why do you look like you're about to devour me?" I asked, slipping the key in the lock and turning the handle

His grin grew wider. "Because I am," he said simply.

My hand dropped to my side as I gasped in shock. Roman stepped forward and pushed my door open. He ushered me into my apartment and closed the door behind him. The lights were off, but the moonlight streaming through the windows lent enough light to see his silhouette. Roman closed the short distance between us and held me in his arms, his hands resting on my hips.

I licked my lips, looking up into his dark, mesmerizing eyes. He held me captive mentally and physically and I had no desire to escape. His head dipped down slowly until our lips met. The feel of his lips against mine sent a wave of electricity through me. I lost all rational thought; my only focus was on the feel and sensation of his soft lips and velvety tongue invading my mouth. My hands wound their way through Roman's hair as he pushed me back against the wall. I could feel his hardness pressing against my belly and it made my knees weak.

"Where's your bedroom?" he asked, hoarsely.

My answer was muffled by Roman's lips coming down for another kiss. He placed his hands on my bottom and lifted me off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist, never breaking contact with him. I pointed down the hall towards my bedroom and Roman carried us there.

He kicked opened the door and walked towards the middle of the room where he set me down gently. Roman reached for the tie against his neck and unknotted it, tossing it on the floor. Next he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, pulling it up as he did so.

My eyes were glued to him. I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his body, from his handsome face, to his toned chest, to down to his corded abs. They lingered lower, at the large bulge pressing against his pants. He slipped his jacket and shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a soft swoosh.

A part of me almost couldn't believe that Roman Conrad was standing in my bedroom, half naked. He stepped toward me, his arms outstretched. I stood rooted to the spot, almost lost in a trance. When I felt his strong arms wrap around me, it was my undoing. I looked up at him, full of fear, desire, and vulnerability.

Roman seemed to read my thoughts, as he tenderly brushed away a loosened lock of hair against my forehead. I closed my eyes and felt his soft lips against my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose and finally against my mouth. The kiss soon turned more desperate and I found myself wanting to get closer--to feel more of him. Suddenly, he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, breathing loudly.

"We need to slow down or I'm afraid it will all be over too soon," he said.

"We've got all night," I said, boldly.

He looked at me, his eyes smoldering.

"I've wanted to do this since the first night I saw you," he said.

"Yeah right, I looked a hot mess that evening," I said.

"Mm, I'll never forget how you looked with those hideous glasses that magnified your beautiful green eyes, and the way your magnificent tits almost spilled out of that flimsy top you wore."

"I wasn't spilling out of my top," I argued. I choked on a breath, as I felt my dress loosen and slide down my body exposing my naked breasts.

"You are now," he said a slow smile spreading across his face. Somehow Roman had managed to unzip my dress and tug it down without my noticing.

"I have a feeling you've had a lot of practice at that," I said.

"You are so lovely," he said, gazing at me and ignoring my remark. "Come here."

I stepped out of my dress and kicked off my heels. I was only in my panties as I closed the distance between us. His arms reached out for me; he pulled me against his body and I nestled against his warmth as if I belonged there. The feel of my bare skin rubbing up against his solid chest sent tingles throughout my body.

BOOK: The Wager: A Billionaire Romance
7.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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