Dare Me: A Dark Billionaire Romance (2 page)

Chapter Two

Feeling almost overwhelmed, Jasmine watched as the chauffeur opened the door to the back seat of a long, sleek limousine. Inside, she saw James waiting, seated with a little smile. “You look absolutely stunning,” he said, gesturing for her to join him. Jasmine returned the smile, inclining her head slightly towards John in a silent thank you before carefully sliding down onto the seat. John closed the door behind her and Jasmine took in the opulent interior of the limo: the seats were leather, a lush bouquet of fresh flowers decorated a small, low bar set off to the side, and the floor was covered in a thick, clean cream carpet. In fact, Jasmine realized, the interior smelled absolutely pristine—something she hadn’t previously considered to be a mark of luxury, but which added to the sense of care and wealth of the vehicle—and the man who had hired it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she said, turning her attention back to James. He was dressed in a tuxedo; one that she was fairly certain he hadn’t rented—it fit him like a glove. He leaned forward slightly as the car sprang to life, moving silkily away from the curb in front of her apartment building.

“I thought you’d enjoy a little pre-dinner drink,” James said, flashing her another charming, bright smile as he gestured towards a silver bucket, the gold foil of a bottle of champagne protruding above the rim. He opened the bottle, giving her a brief glimpse at the label proclaiming that it was Chandon before pouring a glass into a crystal flute and handing it to her.

Jasmine sat back against the plush seat, waiting until James had served himself a glass as well before raising her own to him. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me,” she told him, lightly clinking her glass against his before taking a quick sip of the champagne. The bubbles fizzed up into her nose, almost making her sneeze—but the taste was unlike anything she’d had before; Jasmine suddenly realized that she had never had proper champagne in her life. She’d only ever drunk cheap knockoffs, no more than $10 a bottle; the kind of low-rent luxury that masqueraded as the real thing but never quite attained it.

“No need to thank me,” James replied. “I’d be laughed out of the room if I didn’t show up with a beautiful woman on my arm—so as you can see, it’s completely selfishly motivated.” Jasmine chuckled, taking another sip of the champagne.

As they drove, Jasmine began to relax, losing some of her trepidation about the magnitude of the event. She and James talked about their week, with Jasmine once more omitting the name of the company she worked for—but detailing the various ways in which she had been wronged by her bosses and colleagues.

As James told Jasmine about his week, it seemed to Jasmine that he was really talking more about his own importance, his own status at work, rather than his actual job. “I received an invitation to another charity event next week; it would be great to have such a beautiful woman on my arm then, too,” James said. Jasmine grinned, but after fifteen minutes the conversation began to pall. James told her that he was an important person,that he was working out a new business partnership, and would soon be even wealthier. He showed her his American Express Platinum card. “I have about a million rewards points—enough for a trip to Europe, first class.”

Is this really what rich people talk about? Their credit cards, rewards points, their business dealings?
Jasmine feigned more interest than she really felt. She tried to remember if James had had more to talk about when they had first met on the plane, but she couldn’t remember.
At least it will be a decent night out. Good food, alcohol, and I can enjoy myself.
She checked her makeup quickly as they approached the venue—a luxury hotel in the heart of the city. Even if her date was something of a dud, she could still enjoy herself.

Chapter Three

When they arrived at the hotel, James helped her out of the car, and Jasmine felt the little tingle of excitement waking up inside of her again.
This can’t be a total waste of an evening,
Jasmine thought wryly. James presented his invitation at the door, and Jasmine looked past the ushers into the almost full ballroom; while some of the glittering dresses were the very same ones she had rejected as being out of her budget, she didn’t feel as though her outfit would be out of place. Jasmine formed her lips into a polite smile as James led her into the room, straightening her shoulders and looking all around her.

Within a few minutes, however, it became clear to Jasmine that her job was to be seen—and not heard. James introduced her to people, but began talking before she could even make good on the introductions, telling whomever he spoke to that she was a model, that they had met in business class on a trip from Cancun, and a dozen more falsehoods. He lied so convincingly that for brief moments, Jasmine wondered if he had paid any attention at all to her story; but she quickly realized that it was more that he didn’t care what her actual story was. She was simply arm-candy, a trophy he could carry around to bolster his status at the party.
I should have known,
she thought with more than a little bit of resentment as James finally led her to the table bearing his name on a little placard.

Jasmine barely paid attention to the room around her as she looked over the menu for the dinner part of the event, smiling when James mentioned her name and glancing at whomever he was speaking to. His words became a dull drone in her mind as she perused the delicious-sounding dishes on offer, almost unable to decide what she wanted to select for herself. She had heard of some things—foie gras, confit of duck, pâte à choux—before, but she had never tried any of them.

“What sounds interesting?” James asked, leaning in just a little closer. Jasmine blushed slightly, smiling with something like genuine interest.

“They all sound so good I can’t make up my mind,” she admitted.

“Well, you don’t really have to; it is small plates after all. We could share everything that catches your fancy.” The words were like magic; when the waiter came around, dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo with a crisp white linen shirt and a perfectly folded tie, she enthusiastically ordered everything she had never had the opportunity to try in her life, with James’ beaming approval.

The food arrived quickly, and the atmosphere between them lightened as they bonded over the extravagant selection of foods: a tartlet with foie gras, seared scallop wrapped in wild boar bacon, and a tiny amuse-bouche with pear and ripe stilton.  James made sure that her wine glass was kept full. “It’s what any well-bred gentleman would do at an event like this,” he said with a little grin when she thanked him.

The band began to play, and Jasmine noticed that while most of the luminaries took to the dance floor, James was content to mingle with those who stayed behind. In fact, as soon as the regular dinner service was done, he left her at the table. Jasmine sipped her wine, wishing that she had the nerve to go out onto the floor alone, and glancing around every few moments to check on her date; he had told her while they ate that he was specifically interested in “making connections” with the people gathered there, forming relationships with other men and women who would be able to invest in his company. Jasmine had been as politely encouraging as she could be—she couldn’t remember what he had said his business was—but now she was regretting it. With no one to talk to, she was certain that she looked pathetic, expensive dress and all.

Just as her boredom and irritation were peaking, Jasmine’s restless gaze landed on the one person she least expected to see at the event. The CEO of the company she worked for, Dominic Harper was standing by himself, seemingly watching the party from the outside. His handsome face looked almost as bored as she felt, his bright eyes gazing out with an almost glassy look to them. He had a wine glass in his hand, but didn’t seem to be actively drinking from it.

Jasmine stared at him in a mixture of shock and dismay; it seemed impossible to think that Dominic might let James keep her cover of being some kind of model arm-candy. Why hadn’t she even considered that Harper would be here? It was exactly the kind of event that a rich guy would go to—James’ attendance being proof in point.
But then there’s something about James I can’t quite put my finger on. Wouldn’t a billionaire have a more prestigious business card? And more to talk about?
Jasmine fidgeted in her seat. She did not want to be exposed as nothing more than a middle manager at an event like this.

Just as Jasmine was considering how best to make her exit gracefully, before Harper’s gaze could fall on her, James came back to the table. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “You would not believe who I just met—great guy, CEO of Marchman Capital. He’s really interested.” Jasmine smiled politely.

“That’s so great!” she said, trying to focus on James instead of on the CEO of her company. She couldn’t quite shake the belief that if she thought about him too much, he would somehow sense her thinking about him and come over to her. “You know—I was just thinking—isn’t there some kind of, I don’t know, after party?” Jasmine forced herself to smile more broadly. “This one seems to be winding down.” James glanced around.

“Nah, still lots of people to meet and mingle with,” he said. Jasmine’s heart beat faster as James scanned the room. “That’s Dominic Harper!” he said, and Jasmine felt her stomach sink to her feet. “I’ve met him a few times—we should go over and say hello. He’s a sucker for a pretty face, I’d be much more interesting to him with you on my arm.” Jasmine tried to think of an excuse for why she shouldn’t meet Harper; she had not exactly been forthcoming about the company she worked for, and while she had complained about her treatment, she had made her role in the company seem much more important than it was.

Jasmine couldn’t get her thoughts together quickly enough to avoid James eagerly taking her arm. “Shouldn’t you talk to him by yourself?” she asked, feeling increasingly panicked. “I mean, if you’ve already met him a few times…” James shook his head.

“I’ve never really made an impression on him; he knows my name, but I think he considers me a minor league guy—not important enough to invest in.” He beamed at her. “He’s got an eye for beautiful women, so maybe if I introduce you to him, he’ll be more interested in talking to me.” Jasmine smiled tightly, unable to think of a good reason that she could actually give James for why Dominic Harper would not be interested in him because he had her as a date.
Well at least you’ll get your fifteen minutes of fame, being thrown out of an event like this after the scene that’s about to erupt,
she thought wryly.

As they crossed the ballroom, it occurred to Jasmine—in spite of her panic—that Dominic Harper made James look cheap by comparison. She had met the CEO a few times, when he conducted his inspection of her department, but up close, the sight of him still made quite the impression. Harper was tall, easily over six foot. His dark blond hair was combed back off of his forehead, slick and clean, the ends barely brushing the collar of his crisply pressed tuxedo. His bright blue eyes were perfectly clear, even as he stared out vacantly over the assembly. Jasmine felt a little frisson of attraction—Harper filled out a tuxedo beautifully, his broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips perfectly draped by the well-cut fabric.

“Dominic—Dominic Harper,” James said, grinning slightly. “It’s good to see you here, man!” Jasmine’s heart lurched inside of her chest as Harper’s gaze turned onto them; dismay turned to confusion as those bright blue eyes showed only the barest flicker of uninterested recognition.

“James, right?” Harper said, sounding bored. “Who’s this lovely woman on your arm?” His interest visibly piqued as he slowly looked Jasmine up and down. Jasmine stared back at him, barely able to conceal her shock. She had already met him a few times, enough to warrant some recognition, surely.

“Meet Jasmine Phillips,” James said brightly. “And she is a beauty, isn’t she?” James nudged her forward and Jasmine smiled tightly, waiting for the moment when Harper would recognize her, and know her for who she was. Harper shook her hand firmly, looking her over once more.

“Just how do you know someone so stunning, James? The last time I met you, you were going stag.”

“We met on a recent trip, actually. Jasmine here is very accomplished—great head for business, she’s been advising me about my company.” The two men chatted and Jasmine felt herself once more relegated to the status of decoration , though Harper looked at her more often than James did, and with much more interest in his gaze.

Jasmine bit back the anger she felt at the fact that Harper had not recognized her even in the slightest.
He has hundreds of employees, but you would think that he would at least register the name. The jerk. He’s met me what—three times? Four?
But Jasmine told herself that at least there wouldn’t be any kind of scene, with James figuring out just how insignificant she was within the company she worked for. She decided that she might as well play along, and smiled appropriately whenever either man’s gaze turned towards her. It was better than nothing, Jasmine thought. While she was relegated to mostly silence, she might as well enjoy the view; she couldn’t deny that Harper was gorgeous.
He’d be even more gorgeous if he could remember his own employees’ names,
she thought resentfully.

She looked around, trying to avoid seeming bored, but after a while the need to do or say something was too much to bear. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Jasmine said, smiling at the two men. “I just need to visit the ladies’. Do you mind?” James looked at Harper and shrugged slightly.

“We’d hate to be deprived of your lovely presence, but I hope we’ll see you soon,” James told her. Jasmine smiled, simpering as best as she could. She turned on her heel and made her way towards the restrooms, relaxing her jaw and lips out of the polite smile she had been forced to hold all evening. She glanced around furtively and saw more than one woman on her way to the same destination, stretching their faces out of the same kind of polite company smiles.

Jasmine stepped into a stall, closing her eyes and sitting down slowly. She needed the solitude more than she needed to use the facilities. It was difficult for her to know which feeling did—should—dominate. Irritation at James for his power-networking, anger at Harper for not even recognizing her, fear of what would happen if she was exposed as the mediocre office flunky that she was. She wanted to leave, and yet she didn’t want the evening to be a complete waste of her time. Jasmine stood and exited the stall. The night couldn’t be a total loss; she would find James, maybe convince him to take her home—maybe she would even be able to talk him into sleeping with her. As boring as he had been, maybe he was good in bed.

After washing her hands and touching up her makeup, Jasmine took a deep breath and stepped back out of the restroom, looking around for James. Surely even he had become bored with the evening; there were only so many potential business partners for him to meet, and considering how quickly he had been moving around the room, she had to believe that he had met them all. Her gaze traveled around the big, well-lit room until it fell on him, just as a waiter moved out of the way.

James was standing with a tall, leggy blonde in a slinky dress slit up almost to her hips; his intentions were plain for Jasmine to see. He flashed his toothy grin at the woman, saying something that made her laugh. Jasmine’s irritation flared once more, and she clenched her teeth.
Son of a bitch can’t even stick with the date he brought,
she thought angrily. Her resentment at this final proof that she was nothing more than arm-candy to the man gave Jasmine the resolve to do whatever it would take to salvage the evening; if he didn’t care about her except as a prop to his status, then she would amuse herself elsewhere. Claiming a champagne flute from one of the passing waiters, Jasmine made her way towards the dance floor.
Maybe I’ll even find someone richer than he is,
she thought with a flicker of amusement.
Someone who appreciates me. That will serve him right.

With that goal in mind, Jasmine surveyed her prospects. Her gaze trailed around the room, taking in the sight of wealthy men with dates who were just as obviously trophy girlfriends as she was. While it might be fun to divert someone’s attention away from his date, Jasmine thought the drama that would ensue was much less worth it than the look on James’ face when she left with someone else—someone single. Her roving eye finally found Dominic Harper in the crowd once more, and she smiled slowly to herself. He had come alone; he hadn’t needed a girl to bolster his reputation or status.
James used me to become ever-so-interesting to him,
Jasmine thought, biting her bottom lip.
I can be much more interesting without him simpering like a southern belle.