Escorting the Billionaire #1 (The Escort Collection) (4 page)

“Thank you. It’s lovely,” I said.

He nodded at me, and a flicker of something—I didn’t know him well enough to recognize it—crossed his face. He started backing out the door.

“You don’t have to go, James,” I said in a low voice. “If you want, we can just do this now. So we seem natural around your family.” I patted the bed.

What are you doing?
I asked myself.
He told Elena no sex. You were happy about that. So what the hell, Audrey?

The thing was, I only sort of wanted to fuck him. It was more that I wanted to get it out of the way. It was more that I wanted this just to be a regular job, a regular exchange—money for sex.

Not money for I wasn’t sure what.

I wanted to make him a John.

James smiled at me and held up his hand. “I’m sure it would be…a pleasure,” he said. His eyes took me in hungrily but only for a moment. “But I already told Elena. That’s not what you’re for. You’re here to play a public role. So try to keep your legs crossed, and keep your eye on the ball.
The ball
, Audrey. Not my balls.”

He closed the door, hard, and I tried to ignore the inexplicable fact that I wanted to cry once I was alone.

James

F
ucking women
,
I thought as I marched down to my bedroom and slammed the door.

You never knew what they wanted. First, it was sex, then it was money. Right now it was sex for money. Or something.

I couldn’t figure this Audrey out, and I didn’t want to.

My cock was hard and throbbing; it didn’t want to figure her out, either, but it wanted to get in there and pound her, hard. I didn’t blame it.

I went into the bathroom and locked the door.
Go back in there and get it over with,
I thought. I wanted to. I wanted to fuck her, to watch that long brown hair spill down her back. Grab her breasts and suck on them, greedily claiming her body as mine.

So. Fucking. Inconvenient.

I unzipped my pants and grabbed myself, a little roughly, imagining her writhing beneath me, arching her back, and calling my name.

It only took a couple more images like that to make me come, hot, stupid liquid spurting out of me. It was easy.

Too easy.

I groaned, spent but still unsatisfied, and leaned against the counter. Clearly, I wanted to fuck her. She was beautiful, sexy, and she actually seemed smart. I was surprised by that and angry at myself for being surprised—I prided myself on not underestimating people. Underestimating people was how you got stabbed in the back, or got an ice pick to the back of the head,
Trotsky
-style.

So you should just do it,
I thought, cleaning up the mess I’d made. But that was just it. I didn’t want to clean up another mess. When I’d gone to Elena, I’d said no sex because I just wanted this to be a business transaction. I wanted it to be another item on a list that I could control and check off.

Attend Todd’s wedding.
Check.

Appear to be successful personally as well as professionally.
Check.

Not have to deal with so many questions and nagging about having an heir that I want to kill everybody in my family.
Check.

If Audrey hadn’t been nice, and smart and funny, I’d be back there banging her right now, as soon as she’d asked. I was very particular, but I was not a man that said no to sex with a beautiful woman easily. I was not that controlled, even though I desperately wished I was. It would make the messiness of life a lot easier.

But she
was
nice. And smart and funny. I didn’t need this to be any more complicated than it already was. I didn’t need to
like
her. In fact, liking her would work against me in the long run.

So no sex was going to stay no sex, but for a different reason than I’d planned.

I grabbed my phone, thinking about calling Elena. I could return Audrey and ask for a different girl, I reasoned, someone more like that Jenny. Someone more obvious. She wouldn’t work as well with my family, but I wouldn’t need to pay any attention to her, either. She would literally be a no-brainer, ha ha.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door.

“What,” I said as Audrey came through the threshold. She looked twitchy and troubled.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said nervously. “It’s the escort in me. I guess I thought you didn’t mean it. What you told Elena.”

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“About the no sex thing,” she said, explaining. “So I figured I’d be the one to break the ice.”

“I appreciate that, Audrey,” I said and smiled at her. “You thinking of me.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I crossed a line. Now that I know how you really feel, it won’t happen again.”

She looked at the phone in my hand. “Please don’t fire me,” she said, and I could hear real worry in her voice.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said. I dropped the phone onto my bed, secretly guilty as charged. Once again, I’d underestimated her. I didn’t know why she needed the job so badly, and it was a failure on my part not to have considered it. “I told Elena I didn’t want to sleep with who I hired. That’s mainly because I’m trying to keep my distance from these two weeks. I don’t want it to get complicated—I want to be on auto-pilot,” I said. I figured I could be honest with her, at least partially. What did I have to lose?

She looked at me with those big beautiful brown eyes. “I won’t try to seduce you again, I promise. But if you decide you want to fuck me, just speak up. We can do it on auto-pilot.” She smiled warmly at me.

She was nicer than I was used to, and certainly nicer than I deserved.

“I’ll keep that in mind. We need to get ready for the dinner,” I said, adjusting my cuff links. “I’m going to change into a darker suit. Elena said she’d been shopping for you. I’d recommend a dress, something relatively conservative, if you have it.”

“Okay,” she said. “James, can I ask for a favor?”

“Sure,” I said, a feeling of relief flooding me. This, at least, was familiar territory for me—someone asking me for something.

“Can we eat something and have a drink before we go? I don’t want your family thinking I eat like a hippo, and I’m…”

“Nervous?” I asked, and smiled at her in spite of myself. “You should be. My family sucks.”

“Starving,” she said, embarrassed. “I’m starving.”

“Of course,” I said. The unusual sensation of sympathy flooded me. “I’m hungry, too.”

I led her into the kitchen and opened the enormous refrigerator. I’d never been grocery shopping in Boston. I had no idea where the housekeeper bought the food I’d had Nita request. Someplace organic and expensive, I was sure. I pulled out olives, cheese, grapes, and a bottle of wine. Dre opened up a cabinet, pulled out a platter, and got a knife, wine opener, and cloth napkins.

“You seem right at home,” I said to her.

“You can tell the hired help organized the kitchen,” she said. “Everything makes sense. Do you come here a lot? It seems a little…sterile.”

“It is,” I assured her. “I don’t spend a lot of time here. I prefer Los Angeles. I’ve always hated the winters up here.” I poured two glasses of Chardonnay and handed one to her.

“Plus, your sucky family doesn’t live in L.A. That makes it better, too.”

“Cheers to that,” I said, clinking her glass.

She grabbed an olive, and I tried not to watch as she put it into her mouth. I also tried not to look at her skin, which was smooth, perfect porcelain.

“So…what do you want me to do at this thing tonight?” she asked.

“For tonight, just smile and look pretty. Feel free to drink as much as everyone else, as long as you can handle your liquor.”

“I’m an escort. I can drink with the best of them,” she said.

“Then you should fit right in.”

Audrey

M
y clothes were delivered
while we were eating. I excused myself and headed to my room. I selected a black lace cocktail dress and small, black, kitten-heeled sandals. Fortified by the wine, I also wore a tiny thong and a gorgeous black bra. Just in case James changed his mind.

Back at headquarters, I’d been thoroughly waxed within an inch of my life. I’d had a manicure and a pedicure; my nails glittered like jewels in the fading afternoon light. Elena had packed some really beautiful clothes for me to wear over the next two weeks. I ran my hands over them. Dresses, suits, handbags, lingerie, and swimwear that surely cost more than all of the clothes in my closet put together, along with my rent for a year. At least I would look the part. I tried to find some confidence in that.

I wore my hair down, in waves around my shoulders. I kept my makeup reasonable, like what I imagined lady lawyers wore on days when they went to court.

That seemed appropriate. I sort of felt like it was Judgment Day.

James had rejected me, and I still felt stung by that. I’d wanted him. I’d wanted to take his clothes off, check out his hot body, and get it over with. Then he could be a John, and this would be a normal assignment.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. No matter how much I sometimes despised myself, I could still see that I looked beautiful. I was young enough that I always looked good, no matter what I drank or the crap food I ate. But these clothes made me look special.

It’s easy to be special,
I thought.
If you have money.

I put the expensive watch Elena had lent me around my wrist and enormous cubic zirconia studs in my ears. I hoped that the Preston family was so rich that they’d never seen fake diamonds before. I figured I was probably safe.

The final touches of lip gloss were applied to my lips, and I shook my hair out again. I nervously sprayed my mouth with mint spritzer. Part of me really wanted James to think I looked beautiful, and I chose to steadfastly ignore that part. That part was asking for trouble—gorgeous, intense, and distant as he seemed.

Steady girl
, I thought. Unfortunately, I felt anything but.

J
ames didn’t stare
, or even really look at me, on the ride to the restaurant. Kai averted his eyes as well, which I took as a good sign.

“Are we going to stay together?” I asked James. He was staring at his phone, tapping out messages on it impatiently.

“We should,” he said. “That way, we can hear each other’s answers and stay on the same page.”

“Okay,” I said. I was feeling almost sick with nerves, and I realized it had to be worse for him. “Are you normally affectionate with your girlfriends in front of your family?”

“No,” he said, reaching over and grabbing my hand. “So we should be.”

Kai pulled the car expertly up to a street in the North End and double-parked out front. He opened the door and smiled without looking at me.

Apparently James had given him another talking to.

“See ya later,” I said to him anyway, smiling at him warmly and flagrantly violating the rules.

James grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Behave,” he said.

“That’s what I’m here for,” I said innocently.

He pulled me to the front of the restaurant: Le Ciel, read the sign, in fancy script.

“French?” I asked.

“My family’s old school,” he said, stopping to adjust his tie.

“Let me,” I said and fixed the knot. “Remember, we’re in
love
.”

He gave me a small smile; behind it, I thought I saw his temples pulse. He was stressed. I reached for his hand again and squeezed it. “Let’s go have a drink,” I said.

“Let’s stay drunk for the next two weeks,” he said and led me through the door.

Then maybe we’ll end up in bed,
I thought, ignoring the clench of desire
that tore through me at the thought. I looked at James as we walked through the door: tall, steel-grey hair, powerful shoulders, a square-cut chin. He was expensive looking.

He was also totally clench-worthy.

I heard him suck in his breath as he took in the restaurant; it was wall-to-wall fancy people, probably all related to him in one way or another. I suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing cubic zirconia. A waspy-looking woman with a white-blond bob was already heading for us. She was wearing a classic Chanel pink suit and a string of pearls.

“Is that your mom?” I asked James through the fake smile I’d plastered on.

“Yep.”

“She’s petrifying,” I said.

“Absofuckinglutely,” he said, and I saw that he’d plastered on a smile, too.

She reached us before we were ready for her, before we’d even had a chance to catch our breath.

“James,” she said, reaching out and giving him a hug, careful not to get makeup on his suit coat.

“Mother,” he said, and he did not sound friendly, even though the fake smile was still in place. He pulled pack and grabbed my hand. “This is Audrey Reynolds.”

“Mrs. Preston,” I said, holding out my hand to her.

She didn’t take it. Instead, she looked me up and down, and looked back at James. “Very nice, James. Very nice.” She turned back to me and beamed. I could almost hear her buzzing, a bundle of sharp edges, nerves, and plans.

She finally took my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Audrey,” she said. “James never lets us meet his girlfriends. It’s lovely to see that you not only exist, but that you aren’t designed to embarrass his family.”

I looked at her, shocked and wondering what she meant by that. I shook her hand limply. I noted that my plastered-on smile was intact; if the rest of his family was this bad, I was going to need a steady supply of alcohol to keep it in place.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things,” I said.

“Oh, nonsense. You don’t need to bother with that, dear—I know what my son really thinks of me,” she said without bothering to look offended.

“Enough,” James said. He sounded defeated, and we’d been here for less than five minutes. “Let Audrey at least think we’re civilized for the first night. Can you show us to the bar? And where’s Dad? And Todd and his bitch-ass fiancée?”

Mrs. Preston stopped inspecting me and turned to him with a glare. It must have been the way she normally looked at him—her face relaxed into it. “You watch your mouth, James. And here’s a waiter—be sure to take your medicine. Just make sure it’s not the kind that has you hurling the c-word, or any other of your trash talk, at your new sister-in-law.”

“Yes, ma’am,” James said.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned to me. “You better order a double, young lady,” she said, nodding her head toward her son. “You’re going to need it.”

Funny,
I thought,
James said the same thing about you.

Except that it wasn’t funny.

I ordered a double anyway. I really wanted a martini, but I was too worried that I wouldn’t be able to balance it while running away from James’s scary mother.

“What did your mother mean by that?” I asked. “The ‘designed to embarrass your family’ thing?”

“I have no idea,” he said, and I didn’t believe him.

James took a big sip of his bourbon and grabbed my hand. He leaned over to me. “My father, Robert, is straight ahead,” he said. “He’s talking to Johnny O’Mara, the city councilman. Probably dreaming up new ways to pillage the city. And there’s Todd and stupid Evie.” He pointed to a slightly taller, thinner version of himself that must have been Todd. He was next to a young, reed-thin woman with a blond bob. She looked like a Mrs. Preston Jr. except that her teeth were a little horsey, and when she laughed, her bony shoulders shook aggressively.

“Why do you hate her so much? She looks nice,” I said. Actually, she looked exhausting, her laser-like ice-blue stare piercing every person who came within range.

“Let’s go meet her. You’ll see what I mean.”

I held up my drink. “Let me finish this first. Your mother keeps looking over here. I’m worried she’s gonna talk to us some more.”

I leaned up in my kitten heels to whisper to him, keeping a playful smile on my face. “Let’s pretend we can’t get enough of each other. Maybe your mother will leave us alone, then.”

James leaned against me. “That sounds great, Audrey.”

We were pressed against each other, and suddenly it felt as if it had gotten very, very hot in the restaurant. “Don’t you have any friends here?” I asked. “Anyone helpful? We need another buffer besides me.”

“My best friend will be here later tonight. Cole. He’ll probably try to steal you from me.” He slid his hand down my back, into the curve of my spine.

“You can’t lend me out. It’s in our contract,” I said, even though the contract said nothing of the sort.

“I might make you my newest venture,” he said, leaning down to talk into my ear. He rubbed my lower back slowly, his hand lowering down to graze the top of my ass. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert.

Daring him, I turned my face to his. “I’m not for sale,” I said, our lips close. Too close. I brushed my nose against his so that we looked like the happy couple we weren’t. “I’m like a timeshare, baby. No one gets to own me. You just get to stay a while.”

My words hung in the air as he looked at me darkly. “That’s a horrible thing to say about yourself, Audrey,” he said.

His words cut me, and my back stiffened. But I didn’t have the right to react to him like that.

I knew what I was.

I didn’t let any emotion show on my face, but I pulled back and took another long sip of my drink. Now there was hurt mingled with the heat between us, and I was unsteadied by it, almost a little dizzy. I stood there and absorbed it, letting my shame mix with my other wild emotions.

It was nothing I didn’t deserve.

James took a deep breath and pulled me against him. I stood there, stiffly, wishing the floor would swallow me up. “I’m sorry,” he said in a rush, into my ear. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

I took a steadying breath and looked up into his eyes, a pretend loving look on my face. If nothing else, I was going to do my job right. “Yes, you did,” I said. “But it’s okay. I know exactly what I am, James. You should, too.”

He stared down at me, his eyes intense. “You’re not a timeshare, Audrey. You’re a beautiful, kind woman. You’re way too young to give up on yourself.”

I simultaneously loved and hated the fact that my body was on fire beneath him, and that I wanted to remember every word he was saying.

“I’m not giving up on myself. But I also don’t lie to myself,” I said, giving him a tight smile that betrayed none of the wild emotion that was going on inside me. At its core, being an escort was just like being an actress, and that had never been more true for me than right now.

“Not lying to yourself is good—we should all try that more often,” James said. “But you’ve said some negative things about yourself this afternoon. Don’t. Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

I hadn’t realized I’d said anything bad about myself. I didn’t want to think about it. Instead, I put on my actress mask and changed tactics, quickly. “Are you lecturing me?” I asked, suddenly playful.

He watched my face, trying to read me.

“No,” he said, “I’m trying to help.”

“Is trying to help a thing with you?” I asked, teasing, trying to break the tension. “Are you one of those do-gooder sorts of billionaires?”

He gave me a small smile then, following my cues. Even though the vibe between us had changed, his powerful arms still gripped me. My body was still molded around his. I tried not to think about that—because if I did, I might try to climb on top of him right here.

That was ill-advised for several reasons.

“Hardly. And I don’t have
things
,” he said.

“Maybe you do,” I chided, trying to keep my voice even. “You just don’t have anybody to point them out to you.”

“Well, then please, over the next two weeks, be the pointer-outer of things,” he said, and I could tell he was relaxing a little. He was holding me close, and I could feel him stirring against me. Still, he didn’t back away, emboldened by the crowd. I wanted to climb up on him and wrap my legs around him, to find out exactly what he had going on underneath that suit.

I could feel his mother’s eyes on us. At the very least, we were successfully convincing her that there was
something
between us. What that something was, I wasn’t sure. It was more complicated than I’d thought.

Even though my body was on fire, I shivered against him.

“Now finish that drink,” he said commandingly. “We have to go meet the rest of the firing squad.”

“I’m ready when you are,” I said, and even though he made me feel off balance, I was sure that I meant that for a lot of different things.

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