Billionaire Bad Boys: A Collection of Contemporary and Paranormal Bad Boys Page 7

  An errant bullet? What happened to him? Savannah filed that thought away to ask someone later.

  Liam’s lips twisted into a sneer. He turned toward the bartender. “Colt? Top this off, would you, please?”

  The bartender nodded.

  The band began playing a new song, something dark, smoky, and mysterious. It was the kind of song composed to make couples grind against one another, slow dancing, stealing deep, furtive kisses while in the middle of a crowd.

  “There we are. Take her and dance with her. Get to know one another. I’ll leave you to it.” She patted Liam on the shoulder, gave Savannah’s arm a squeeze, and then sauntered away.

  Liam kept his back to her. He lifted his glass to his lips again and drained the amber liquid down his throat.

  Savannah stood stiffly, wondering what she should do. Order a drink? Sit down next to him? “Liam,” she said to his back. “Your mother wants us to dance. I do know how to dance.”

  “Fine,” he snapped. He whirled around and rose to his feet.

  Savannah blinked, startled. He stood taller than Adam.

  His arms rippled with muscles as he extended his hand to her. “Let’s get this over with.”

  This? What’s the this? She took his hand and followed.

  The other couples parted when he stalked onto the dance floor, dragging her with him.

  She glanced around apologetically before remembering Margaret’s admonition. Never apologize or show weakness. She drew herself tall and yanked her hand away.

  “I’m not your property,” she hissed.

  Liam paused, blinking at her. “Want to bet?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he seized her hand. Wordlessly, he positioned himself in proper dance form, his palm on her waist, the other lightly gripping her fingers, and drew her close.

  She moved with him, grateful for the dance lessons she’d taken with Adam in her early twenties. Her and Liam’s movements seemed well matched, but the silence between them hung thick and sour.

  After a few uncomfortable seconds, she said, “This is awkward, don’t you think?”

  “Don't do that,” he said, shutting her down. He glowered. “We might have to go through with this joke of a marriage, but that doesn't mean we actually have to talk to each other.”

  She stayed quiet for a few more seconds. This is so stupid. She blew out her breath.

  “Why?” she asked. “Why do we have to go through with it? We're grownups. We can do whatever we want.”

  He chuckled bitterly. “Oh, right, you’ve been shielded from the Club, haven’t you? You’re not privy to our rules and regulations. Did you enjoy your freedom frolic?”

  His venomous words stabbed at her insides.

  “Oui. Très,” she said, her tone matching his in icy intention.

  He barked out a laugh. “Une telle chienne impertinente,” he said in flawless French.

  She wanted to slap him. Leaning close to his ear, she hissed, “I don’t take kindly to being called a sassy bitch. On t'a bercé trop près du mur?” She smiled at the insult. As a child, was your cradle rocked too close to the wall?

  He let out a genuine laugh.

  “Good one.” Then, he whispered his retort. “Me faut retourner à la pute qui m'a accouchée.”

  She winced. The translation of Go back to the whore who gave birth to you hit her like a wrecking ball. She’s dead, you pond scum of a man.

  “We’re getting off to a great start,” she snarled. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

  His lips pressed together, and his face grew dark. “Your father didn't tell you much, did he? Being in the Club, being the child of the Club, it means you must do things. Why you got a vacation from this reality is beyond me. But fun time is over, I assure you.”

  He shook his head.

  Her forehead furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come here. Let me show you something. Seeing is believing.” He released the dance position and grabbed her hand.

  “What if I don’t care to see what you have to show me?” Anger pooled in her belly.

  “Too bad. You’re playing by Club rules now.”

  7

  Still gripping Savannah’s hand, Liam dragged her across the dance floor and outside the bar lounge to the elevator. He stabbed the open button.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed.

  “You women. Always thinking you can wave your pretty fingers and get your way.” He bore down on her hand.

  “Ouch! That hurts.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Adam stepping toward her, looking as if he were about to intervene. She shook her head.

  He backed away.

  “Please let go of me, Liam dear,” she said, pasting a phony smile on her face.

  “Fine.” He released her hand, flicking his fingers as if shaking off goo, as the silvery lift doors opened.

  Inside the elevator, she backed away, opposite Liam.

  Adam strode through the doors and stood at the wall facing the doors, staring straight ahead.

  The doors whispered shut, and the elevator began its descent.

  Liam stared at her. He lifted his hand to his jaw and stroked his chin, appearing thoughtful.

  She glared back defiantly. Usually adept at reading people, even terrorists, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was unreadable. Although handsome as hell on the outside, his actions so far were rude and angry, making him completely unappealing.

  “Can’t think of anything cruel to say to me?”

  A softness fell over his face. “I’m thinking you’re prettier than they lead me to believe. I Googled you from time to time but the images I saw never matched the you who stands before me.”

  Panic competed with the kind compliment. Is he telling me I’m busted? He knows what the real Naeva looks like? She swallowed, forcing her heart to calm. “Then why the mean remarks in front of your mother?”

  He shrugged, turning his attention to Adam for one second. “Does he go with you everywhere?”

  “Pretty much.” She smiled at Adam.

  Adam’s lips curved.

  “Will he watch us fuck?” Liam squinted at him.

  Her eyes widened. “I’m certain we’ll never get to that,” she spluttered. “Not at this rate. But no, Adam won’t watch.”

  Not that he wouldn’t like to. She afforded him a glance, noting a slight smirk on his handsome face.

  “I don’t mind.” Liam waved his hand over his head. “Believe me, I’ve seen everything in this club. It might make it endurable to have someone else in the room.”

  He leaned back and placed his hands on the railing while crossing one leg over the other.

  “Jesus, you’re an asshole.” Savannah wanted to break character, tell Adam she was done, and flounce from the elevator. But then I’d have no job. She sighed and stared at the floor.

  Liam laughed. The laughter emerged rich and sonorous like it came from some hidden pool deep inside his soul.

  She lifted her head and studied him.

  His entire demeanor had transformed, revealing a playful side. Then, he stopped, brushed the front of his shirt as if to whisk away his lightness, and resumed his dark expression.

  “You don’t think I can protect you? You have to hire a goon?” He directed his intense gaze at her. His hands bunched into fists by his side, revealing ripped muscles in his forearms.

  “I think the last thing you want to do is protect me, let alone have anything to do with me.” She didn’t know why it hurt to admit this. Especially since, for her entire life, she’d been rejected by family members who were paid to foster her. How is this any different? Plus, all I’m doing is playing a role. Who cares if he likes me or doesn’t like me? She shook off the insult resuming her role as Agent Summers.

  “You’re wrong about me.” Abruptly, he took two quick steps across the elevator and trapped her face between his warm palms.

  She gasped, arching away from him.

  Gripping her tight
ly, he inclined his face toward hers and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Stunned at the sudden move, she pulled her head back and pursed her lips, not wanting to give anything to this hideous man. Her hands pressed against his solid, unyielding chest.

  Without separating his lips from hers, he took her hands and placed them at his sides.

  She stiffened, wondering how he’d like it if she snaked her hand between his legs and squeezed hard.

  He softened the kiss.

  It both surprised and intoxicated her.

  His mouth danced along hers, inviting her to open.

  She began to melt, yielding submissively, in a manner far more exciting than submitting to Master Steele.

  He seemed to settle into his embrace. Exploring. Tasting. Teasing. Moving his head in small circles, his kiss transformed into something heady and sweet.

  Her body responded, growing hot and wet where it mattered.

  He ran his fingers across her bare shoulders and along her arms, letting out a throaty hum.

  She yielded to the kiss, finally opening her mouth to him, granting access.

  His tongue slid inside, twirling around hers.

  Abruptly, the doors to the lift slid open.

  He blindly reached out and jabbed at the buttons until they closed again, all while keeping his lips locked to hers. Pressing his hips to her belly, he groaned.

  Her legs parted at the feel of his large, rigid heat. She reached around to his muscular behind, pulling him closer.

  Finally, he wrenched himself away. For a moment, he studied her, his expression one of wonder. Then, he narrowed his eyes, and his inner walls came crashing down, hiding everything. He turned, fisted the open-door button, and waited.

  The silver doors slid apart, revealing King-Kong and the King-Kong lookalike—the same men who had gripped Adam and Marcus in the elevator upon their arrival to the club.

  Savannah tensed, not wanting another “deep sleep against her will” experience.

  King-Kong said, “Is there a problem, sir?”

  “It's fine, Edgar,” Liam said. Pushing the men aside, he stalked from the lift into a dark corridor. “Follow me,” he commanded over his shoulder to Savannah.

  Savannah blinked stupidly at him. She turned to Adam and mouthed the word Asshole.

  Adam snorted. He stepped from the elevator, crowding the two beefy men. Turning toward the lift, he held his hand out to Savannah.

  She took it, held her chin high, and exited. Releasing Adam’s grip, she stepped in front of him.

  Liam strode ahead. When he got to a door at the end of the hallway, he pivoted, crossed his arms, and studied her as she made her way toward him.

  When she reached where he waited, he fished in his pocket and removed a set of keys. He selected one, fit it into the lock, and twisted it.

  A click sounded.

  Then, his fingers landed on a keypad. Shielding it with his body, he entered a code. The lock whirred and snicked. He opened the door, stepping aside for her to enter.

  She eyed him, her eyelids narrowed.

  He smirked. “Don’t worry. I won’t be getting frisky with you in here. Or, anywhere, for that matter.”

  “What was that kiss, then?”

  His mouth fell open. He seemed to consider, then answered her. “It was a mistake. One I won’t be repeating.”

  Ouch. The better to leave you after the mission, then. “I didn’t like it either.”

  He glowered at her, his jaw growing rigid.

  With clipped steps, she entered the room.

  Adam started to follow.

  Liam put out his hand and said, “Nope. You wait out here.”

  Adam began to protest but closed his mouth and nodded. ‘Of course, sir, as you wish.”

  Liam shut the door, trapping him and Savannah inside a small, pitch-black room.

  She shivered. I can’t even see my own hands. “Do we get to have some light?” she said, hugging herself.

  “One moment,” Liam replied. “I’ll flick the light on in a sec. This bit is for me to see, not you.”

  Footsteps trekked along the room. The flick of a lighter yielded the soft glow of flame, illuminating Liam’s face.

  “What are you doing?” She took a step toward him.

  “Don’t move,” he said. “Stay right there.”

  He stood in front of a large, vault-size safe, acting as a barrier between her and the lock. He turned away from her. Shining his lighter on the safe, he fiddled with something, then pivoted to face her. He let his lighter close, plunging them into quiet darkness again.

  Behind him, a whirring and series of clicks sounding much like a high-speed calculator broke the silence.

  “What’s going on?”

  He flipped a light switch, turning on a dim overhead light. The low light cast his face in shadows. “It’s an auto-dialer. It’s cycling through thousands of combinations to open this safe.”

  A mysterious smile formed on his face.

  “Why the auto-dialer?”

  “It’s a security measure. The club likes to stay secure.” He flashed a mocking smile.

  “Are you supposed to be in here?”

  His smile broadened. “I can go anywhere I want. I’m a Chartier. Don’t forget who you’re marrying. This is a royal marriage of sorts.” An ugly sneer replaced the mocking smile.

  Savannah pursed her lips. “Why the top security? What am I about to see?” She tried to keep her tone casual, but inside she vibrated with excitement. This could be the start of getting the information we need. I could be done here before I know it.

  His smile widened, but he said nothing.

  After a few moments of the click and whirl, the device stopped, and a louder click snapped in the air. The safe door opened a crack.

  “Come,” he said, holding out his hand.

  She stepped closer, avoiding his reach.

  He shook his head, pivoted, and fitted his fingers along the edge of the now-open safe door. He eased it wide with obvious reverence. “Don’t touch anything.”

  Inside the vault, lights emerged like a sunrise on fast-forward, revealing a handful of huge stones sitting on large pedestals under glass. Each stone was different. A family name, etched on golden plates, had been affixed to each stand.

  “My father brought me here once before he died. I was talking about becoming a doctor or something stupid.” His lip curled in a sneer. “He told me we weren't like regular people. My great grandfather stole that emerald right there.” He pointed to a sparkling green stone. “He started this, along with the other families, and I couldn't turn my back on it. This is who we were. It's who we'll always be—thieves and criminals fronting as billionaires.”

  Her excitement grew. Fantastic. Wait until I tell Adam.

  Savannah did a quick calculation of the gemstones winking at her, figuring a fortune sat in that safe.

  “I thought I could be a doctor. I assumed I could live the way I wanted to, but that was when I thought I was a person.” His eyes grew moist.

  His tenderness at that moment sifted into Savannah’s chest. I get it. I wanted things out of life, too, like my mom to still be alive and one family to call my own.

  He blinked back his emotion. “That one represents your family,” he said, pointing to a large, translucent crystal.

  The gem sparkled with reds, pinks, and deep orange.

  “It’s been named Fire.” He cocked his head and studied her. He took a step in her direction.

  She stiffened, pulling back slightly.

  He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair. “Fire,” he said, softly, as if to himself.

  “Fire,” she repeated softly, aware of the intense energy simmering between them. Savannah’s breath caught. “What is it? The gem, I mean.”

  “It’s called Painite. A British mineralogist discovered the rare mineral in Myanmar in the 1950s. It’s a pricey gemstone. It’s been quoted at $60,000 per carat.”

  “My God.”

>   “God has nothing to do with it. This is the land of the billionaires. We take what we want. We value what is rare and decide what’s precious.” He turned, shutting the door of the weighted safe. “The next time you start thinking you're a person, remember you're a Weathersby, and that makes you nothing more than a rare gemstone first, a role within the organization, second, and a person far down the list—nearly at the bottom.” He strode toward the exit. “Are you coming?”

  She hesitated, wanting to feast her eyes on the gemstone once more. “Why did you show me this?”

  He chuckled. “Because upstairs you said we can do whatever we want. No, dear Naeva, we can’t. Your destiny belongs to the Diamond Club. Like it or not, this sham of a union will take place in front of every member of this establishment. They will all want to see for themselves that our and their future is secure.” He flipped off the light switch and opened the door, holding it for her to exit. “All the exquisite choices you made while living the free life you led in Paris disappeared the moment you crossed the threshold to the Club.”

  Before exiting, she stared at him. “I’m marrying a thief.”

  He stared back at her. “You’re marrying a Chartier,” he said as if that erased all wrongdoing. “And this…” He flicked his hand toward the safe. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll know who did the breathing. We’re well equipped to deal with betrayers.”

  “Is that a threat?” She sucked in a breath.

  He shrugged. Then, he cast a lightning rod stare in her direction. “It’s important that I can count on my wife to keep my secrets, don’t you think?”

  “Of course, it is. You can trust me.” Keep it coming. This is huge. He’s testing me to see if I can keep his confidences. She wanted to race outside and share everything with Adam. She took a deep breath to calm her growing exhilaration. “Do you have any other heists in the works? Or, have you got that out of your system,” she said. She hoped her accusatory tone would mask her quivering excitement.

  Failing to answer, he fixed a cold glare on her face. “After you.”

  Dammit. He’s closing down again. Still, it’s a start. She stepped through the doorway, smiling at him with warmth she didn’t feel.

  In the hall once more, she eyed Adam—who stood with his back to the wall—giving him a slight nod. He’d know she meant “I’ve got something.”