To Charm A Billionaire (Men of Monaco Book 1) (3 page)

"Opera?" His shock amused her.

"One of the many things we never did. I'd always boasted that I'd not only get you to an opera but that you'd love it."

He didn't respond, but he also hadn't automatically rejected her offer. Small progress.

"Just say yes," she prompted.

"And Javier Bordeaux?"

Anna knew that sooner or later, she had to talk about the man she chose over Damien. "Guess my personal life isn't so intact."

"I'm sure your search for the perfect guy will be fruitful."

"It already was," she blurted. "You."

"Don't." His anger fueled the command.

"It's true."

"You don't get to do this again."

"I - I made a mistake."

Silence descended on them. Tension remained taut. He no longer looked at her.

"Life is short." Anna couldn't help talking in short blasts. "Your heart attack is an in-your-face reminder that time is short."

"I didn't have a heart attack."

"What? But your mother said—"

He waved off her reasoning.

"Then what happened?"

His mouth tightened into a flat line. Together with the blue-eyed steely gaze, his pupils contracted into pinpricks.

"I know that I haven't earned the right to your confidence. But I've always been a good listener. Maybe not with myself, but for others."

"Look. I don't mean to be harsh, but I'm not going play games, either. It's over between us. I'm not in some desperate stage of life to take whatever you're offering. You can leave."

That would be too easy. Anna adjusted her behind in the seat and crossed her legs. She had no problem matching his streak of stubborn with hers. "I'm here for a week. I've got business to take care of. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice." She stayed cool while her pulse galloped at a frantic pace.

"Excuse me?" His shock was priceless.

"Opera? Tonight." She leaned forward with subtle aggression to underscore the challenge. "Are you going to be a mama's boy?"

"Don't try to play dirty with me." He leaned forward and suddenly gripped her chair and slid it toward him. Their knees made contact a second before their lips.

He kissed her hard. His tongue invaded and seized control. There was no fight in her as she welcomed him in. Her entire body was engaged. Her nipples perked as he raided her with erotic sweeps of his tongue. Not only her pulse rose, but the temperature in the pit of her belly heated and spread its warmth all the way down to the nestled sweet spot between her thighs. He withdrew and stopped as abruptly as he started.

Silence rolled in with the backdrop of the ticking clock on the mantel.

Her pulse roared its rapid tap dance in her ears.

He pushed back her chair. His eyes were hooded blocking her attempts to read him.

"I'll take that as a yes." Damn her shaky voice, but she demanded a victory point for this battle.

The outcome of the war still had to be determined.

D
amien
swam several laps at a bruising pace before he hugged the side of the pool to catch his breath. The workout was the right therapy for the turmoil of emotions that rocked his system during and after Anna's visit. Timing mattered. Her appearance on a day of ultimate failures added an exclamation point.

He'd failed with her, too.

"Fuck!" he shouted, startling a few birds into flight from their nearby perch. 

Not feeling any better, he pushed off from the side to add a few more laps to the daily total that already broke his personal record. He wanted his lungs to burn, his muscles to throb, his mind to stop its rambling thoughts. Back and forth, his body sliced through the water from one end of the pool to the other.

Not until the threat of a potential leg cramp did he break his rhythm and swam to the side of the pool. His chest heaved for oxygen, as his irritation continued to rage. Why couldn't he clear his mind of his stupid impulsive kiss with Anna? His brash act shouldn't be a life sentence of torture damning him to constantly think about the softness of her lips, the sweet taste of her mouth, or the instant desire to make love to her. As his body reacted to the idea of lying between her legs, he knew that his malady was more than thinking about Anna. He wanted back in her life.

But, but, but ... she was the enemy.

He growled at the simple fact. His reality.

Since when did he back down from a threat, though? Because when he still had the job, he'd taken down formidable foes posing a threat to the family business. Risking everything on a power move excited him. Once the jittery doubts quieted, he'd hone in on the planned victorious end result and execute his strategy. Tossing caution to the wind and winning got his blood pumping.

Damien didn't entertain any strategy or long-term plan to catch Anna's attention or add her to his list of conquests. Their casual meetup at a dessert buffet with a chocolate fountain centerpiece between them had more than a touch of serendipity.

He knew instantly that Anna wasn't the one-night stand type. Although he'd enjoyed their invigorating conversation about a variety of subjects, he'd looked forward to shagging the devil. 

She'd come dressed to the costume party in a blood red, skin-tight devil outfit with shiny black horns and a tail draped over her wrist. Damien as a swashbuckling pirate enjoyed a night of enticing the devil.

He never intended to lose his heart. Lose and never get back to normal. His fall under her spell had the impact of a high-flying jump with parachute failure. Every part of him suffered the mind-blowing euphoria that he'd never experienced with any woman. The sensation scared the shit out of him but left him wanting more. Addictive and greedy, his appetite craved that heady pleasure.

Nothing compared to the magic that popped when they were together. 

Nothing matched how he felt when they'd ripped apart.

And now Anna was back and looking self-assured and sexy, but also seemingly unaffected by their separation.

Damien slammed his palms down on the pool's edge and pushed up until he was seated with his legs dangling in the water. He couldn't help but feel frustrated by the onslaught of sudden changes and revelations in his life.

The sun warmed his back as he faced the reality that another seismic shift was about to take place.

"Anna, my adorable Anna, there's no way in hell that I'm letting you back into my life." There was too much of the bad in him to turn into her knight. So far, he racked up a ton of disappointment in his wake. Why would he want to add another stack to the bonfire, again, with the only woman who took possession of his heart? And now he'd agreed to go out with her tonight. What punishment had he created for himself?

"Mr. Laurent, you have a phone call. Your father."

Damien squinted up at the maid. Shielding his eyes, he took the phone and waited for her to move out of earshot. "Dad."

"Good to hear your voice." Philippe's voice boomed over the phone as if he had to pitch his voice across a football stadium. "You've talked to Dane and everything is all squared away. Take the time to rest. But not too much." His father laughed. "When you feel up to it, stop by to see me. Let's talk about your future. I'm always here to help."

Damien listened to his father ramble on. His old man wasn't the type to be nervous and stuttering over his words or decisions. To hear a bit of the nerves in his affected concern mattered, but not enough to douse the fiery ire and the bitter pain of betrayal.

"I'm hosting a party on the yacht tonight. Looking forward to seeing you there." His father hung up without waiting for Damien's response.

Two options with long reaching consequences loomed in his immediate future.

Board his father's yacht. Live up to his party hard brand. And give the press something else to add to their list of his condemnation. The idea had a certain appeal. Plus witnessing Dane's irritation escalate into a big bang explosion warmed his ego.

On the other hand, his conscience asked the pointed question:
How long would he play the black sheep?  How much longer should he pretend that he didn't have ambition?

Damien shrugged off any attempts at a deep introspective.

Tonight's alternative held more punch—Anna's invitation to the opera. But there was his vow not to let her back into his life. A few hours, though. What could happen? He knew where he stood with her. And this outing was her pity party for what she'd thought was his weak heart.

Maybe he would have some fun at her expense. At least it would ease the tension of having her within his reach. Otherwise, he'd want to go deep and reacquaint himself with her from top to bottom, from inside to outside. She used to be all his, moving in sync with him, like the perfect dance partner.

Damien headed into the house for a cold shower. Agreeing to go with Anna tonight turned on a lot more than adrenalin. Hell, he might need an ice bath to keep his erection comatose. He prayed that he could play it cool.

With more than a few hours to spare until tonight's event, he'd take his time to prep. He planned to fight dirty, play games and test her to see if she got as hot and bothered like he'd done after kissing her. A little revenge for his wounds.

 Several evening suits later Damien finally dressed and left the house. Armed with an emergency shape up of his hair by his barber, and having his favorite shoes polished to a reflective gleam, he confidently felt ready for the night with Anna. He chose to drive, but now he wished that he had used his driver. 

Driving and keeping his attention on the road with Anna a few feet away should make their journey interesting and a bit unpredictable. Or he could just kidnap her and skip the damn opera.

That sounded like a fun detour.

Tonight wasn't to be mistaken as an episode with a cliffhanger for more to come. One night and they'd go their separate ways.

His phone rang. He took the call which immediately filled the car's sound system. "Yes, Dane."

"Where are you? Dad is annoyed that you promised to be at the party. You're not."

"Tell our father that I got a better offer."

"What? Must you be juvenile." Dane's disgust poured out over the speakers. "How can you not show up?"

"If this is a business meeting, here's a reminder—I don't work for the family." His cavalier response masked what a blow the admission cost him. "If this is a party to celebrate something that dad did, then my only offering is
Santé
."

"It might be the perfect time to show up and be part of the family. It's what dad wanted all along."

"I'm not six years old. You don't put a collar on me and yank to your whim. Tell me, Dane. Do you want to run the company that bad that you would lose your self-respect? It means that much to you?"

The background chatter surrounding Dane was the only sound, well, also the eerie controlled breathing of Dane who always strived to stay even-keeled. Something about living longer and a stress-free life.

Finally, his brother responded, "We are talking about you."

"
Oui
. It is always about me. So this is me telling you to pass on the message like the good squire you are that I'm not attending." Damien hung up before Dane commented or protested.

Anyway, he'd arrived at his destination. As he pulled up, Anna emerged from the grand Hermitage hotel like a starlet in her happy place. Although he'd no need to jump out and toss his keys to a valet, he exited the car for her approach. In a slim-fitting classic black dress that accentuated the curves he knew were naturally there, she'd embraced a vintage Audrey Hepburn style from the Hubert de Givenchy collection. Thanks to Monaco's recent fashion retrospective exhibition, he'd honed his fashion knowledge.

He opened the passenger door and bowed with flourish of his hand. "Your chariot, mademoiselle."

"Thank you." She giggled and took his hand for the assist into the sports car.

His gratitude and irritation mixed that she wore lacy black gloves. Since he wouldn't ever touch her naked flesh again, he had a thin hope that he'd get his fill from holding her hand for the few seconds to aid her into the car. Now that small measure of satisfaction didn't happen.

"Are you all right?" She looked up at him. A frown wrinkled a slight crease in her forehead. Her hand poised over the car handle ready to pull in the door.

"I'm fine." He pulled at his collar wishing that he was back in his Polo shirt. He stepped back for her to close the door before he headed to the driver's seat where he felt nothing close to being the driver in this situation.

She cleared her throat. Her gaze settled on him.

"Guess we're off to the opera." He adjusted the vents to aim at his face. The delicate aura of jasmine and rose toyed with his fragile defenses.
Chanel Parfum Grand Extrait
. Did she deliberately wear his last gift? She couldn't be so cruel.

"Have you been trying all day to find ways to get out of this?" Anna teasing laughter eased the knot between his shoulders.

"Of course not. I've been beside myself with excitement." He meant to sound completely bored. "Can't wait to be smashed alongside the masses in the orchestra section."

"We're in a box," she said primly.

"Just you and me?"

"Not sure. The seats were a gift from Monsieur Alec Toussaint."

"The elite of the winemakers. I'm impressed. I get to be surrounded by respectability. Won't know how to act in polite company."

Anna didn't respond. But then she'd already added his lack of respectability, among other detractors, to the list.

He pushed ahead to make his point. "Respectability is like a health tonic. You may need it occasionally, but too much and it makes you want to puke."

"Do you plan to throw everything I ever said back at me?"

"I'm actually going off script. You got the last word."

"And with your Neanderthal ways, you don't think that you ever got the last word?"

Damien couldn't find a coherent thought to pour out of him. "You just called me a caveman." He turned down the Avenue de Monte-Carlo toward the Salle Garnier. "Researchers say they were smarter than people have thought." Good grief, he was mounting a defense for
his
people.

"Look ... let's enjoy the night. We can talk later."

Damien barely nodded. He wasn't done arguing, but then she'd tossed out later as if there would be a post-opera moment. Their eventual talk couldn't take place in a soft lighting in a cozy spot for romantic couples. He clenched his jaw. No way that he was handing Anna control of that situation. If his dick could just stay comatose, he could survive any lengthy discussions.

He pulled up to the valet parking and waited to be attended.

"Quite the crowd." Damien scanned the streams of expensively dressed patrons. And now, he was about to join the masses of custom fitted, designer inspired couture to listen to high drama on stage. He'd much rather an ice-cream cone and a stroll in the clifftop garden near the Town Hall watching the bustling life of the old harbor.

"I can't believe you've never attended a show." She placed her hand in his as she swiveled her hips to free her legs.

Damien didn't let go until she stood and needed her hands-free to smooth her dress. A job that he'd have volunteered for if he wasn't trying to be respectable.

"My dear father didn't think imbibing on a steady diet of opera was an important addition to his sons' lifestyle. He preferred a heartier upbringing. Guess old habits didn't die."

"So what constituted heartier stuff?"

"Polo. Cricket. Flying small planes. Camping. Anything that burned calories in the great outdoors."

"So expanding cultural horizons is the girlie stuff."

He shook his head. "I didn't say anything about girls versus guys. Don't try to accuse me of more caveman lifestyle." He aimed to open the entrance door for her.

Instead, she beat him by a few steps to open it herself. "I'm capable of the hearty duties."