Page 3 of A Billionaire for Christmas
Molly lowered her gaze and wheeled the trolley further into the room, silently closing the heavy door behind her. With her pulse racing triple time, she made her way to the elaborately decorated banquet table at the side of the room, and keeping her back to the sizable crowd of semi-naked people, she deftly replaced the empty canapé trays with full ones. As she worked, she heard amiable chatter rising above the low hum of music, and soft bursts of giggling. When people approached the banquet, she overheard a variety of compliments for the exquisite culinary delights she was speedily setting out. She had no urge to take any credit, preferring instead to get out of there as quickly as she could.
She wheeled the trolley full of empty trays to the corridor outside. As she bent down to retrieve her apron, she spotted a forgotten plate of canapés. She grabbed it and went back into the room to put it with the others on the table. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had yet to eat today. Sure that no one would notice her, she took an hors d’oeuvre and popped it quickly into her mouth. She was pleased with the burst of flavour, the texture and the smokiness of the apple crisp against the sweetness of the fig leaf oil. These half-naked, randy swingers would have to go a long way to find food as tasty as hers.
‘These are amazing,’ said a woman in a low, cordial voice next to her. ‘I’ve never seen anything so extraordinary. Really, darling, this place is always full of surprises, isn’t it? These are Michelin-star standard.’
Since Ava’s death, Molly had felt no great pleasure in receiving compliments, but she turned around out of politeness without thinking. Suddenly time slowed. Nothing in her life so far had prepared her for the bolt of lightning that now struck. The lady was standing next to the most handsome man Molly had ever laid eyes on. She only caught a glimpse of his profile each time the lady moved, but she was instantly captivated by the way his eyes crinkled, the straight nose leading to the full lips and a jaw covered in stubble. When he turned, it was enough to knock the breath from her lungs. She clutched the table, averting her gaze.
She remembered Petra telling her that only the super-rich were allowed to stay at the members-only Cigar Lounge. The billionaires, the celebrities, the politicians. Her mind flew to the bucket list and the first of the remaining twelve challenges.Drink champagne with a billionaire while naked in a hot tub overlooking the Alps.
What were the chances of this man being super-rich, single and in the mood to skinny dip while drinking champagne? Against her better judgement, Molly dared to sneak another look at him. He had kind, intelligent eyes, and a tanned face framed with dark, neatly trimmed hair. She stared just long enough for him to sweep it casually away from his forehead. Before she could help herself, her eyes wandered the length of his body. He was tall and lean, his arms strong and muscular beneath the tailored jacket. She’d never seen a man so well proportioned. Ever. Molly tried, and failed, to tear her eyes away. It was such a shame he wasn’t blind, or she’d have frogmarched him straight to the nearest hot tub.
‘And putting in that pit-stop halfway down the red slope was a genius idea,’ the lady rattled on. ‘I’m always desperate for an espresso martini by the time I’ve lugged myself all the way to the top. No one could accuse the staff of not pouring generous measures.’
‘We can’t have people skiing sober, can we? It’s just like golf; they’ll realise it’s an expensive waste of time,’ he replied drily, tossing a canapé down his throat. ‘You’re right. These are delicious.’
The lady honked with laughter as pride bloomed unexpectedly in Molly’s chest. He gave a small bow and disappeared deeper into the room. The lady gazed after him with a contented sigh.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ said another woman, approaching. The two ladies exchanged air kisses. ‘If ever I was going to seduce a man, surely it would be him.’
‘Levi? Get in line. Anyway, I’m not sure your husband would agree. You look fantastic by the way.’
‘As do you. It’s a pity Levi is such forbidden fruit. He’s uncommonly handsome.’ The two women stared after him longingly.
Adrenaline was coursing through Molly’s veins. ‘Handsome’ was something of a major understatement. Maybe it was just because she’d been cooped up in the kitchen all year, but every one of her nerves was on end.
‘At thirty-six, he’s too energetic for you, my dear. Think of your new hip. Besides, he’s the despair of women the world over. If you’re going to pick a billionaire to have a casual affair with, might I suggest Old Walt over there?’
Molly, not usually one for eavesdropping, was transfixed at the conversation the two ladies were having, labelling Levi a billionaire as casually as if they’d called him a plumber. She followed their gaze to an oldish gentleman openly enjoying the attention of a much younger woman.
‘That randy goat? I’d rather stick with my husband, thanks. And that’s saying something.’
They giggled quietly.
‘Walt took me and Elsie to New York shopping last year and then flew us all to Hawaii. If you can ignore the inappropriate jokes and the glaucoma, he’s very generous.’
Leaving the ladies to gossip, Molly scanned the room for her handsome billionaire. Her pulse quickened at the thought of finding out more. She slipped in and out of the crowd, subtly glancing around, pleased that the party was in full swing and everyone was in various states of intoxication. The smell of logs burning and spicy aftershave mingled with expensive perfumes, filling the air of the various nooks and crannies. That was when she came across a giant Christmas tree, heavily decorated with glittering tinsel, bright gaudy baubles and burlesque figurines. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to herself, the angel on the top was wearing a red sparkling basque and suspenders. And next to the tree stood Levi, like the world’s best Christmas present just waiting to be unwrapped. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him casually talking to a scantily-clad woman adorned with what looked like a few million pounds’ worth of gaudy baubles around her neck. Molly gave herself a mental slap. She must not get carried away. Someone was paying her good money to do a job, not to gape lustfully at exceptionally attractive party guests. But before she could tear her eyes away, Levi caught her gaze.
Christ Almighty.
He tilted his head with a quizzical expression as they made eye contact.
She’d broken the one and only rule she’d been given, and it felt overwhelmingly worth it. Smiling shyly at him, she swivelled around and made her way back across the crowded room on trembling legs. She desperately wanted to turn around, sure his penetrating gaze was trained right on her. She paused in the doorway, a sixth sense pulling at her, and risked a glance back at him.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
He was talking to a group of men. He wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t paying her attention. It was all in her imagination. She was behaving erratically. It was very unlike her. Maybe it was this ridiculous costume. Maybe it was the excessive dry spell. She would have a word with herself as soon as she got back to her lovely apartment, down in the square.
Just as she was about to close the door, he suddenly turned and caught her staring again. Molly froze. The next few seconds happened as if in slow motion. He raised his glass, lazily downing the drink without once breaking eye contact with her. One rule!
He was staring back at her with unashamed interest. She had one rule and she’d broken it twice in as many minutes. She felt herself blush down to her toes. She noticed him taking in the corset clinging to her curves before placing his empty glass on a nearby tray.
In her peripheral vision, voluptuous women moved around the room dressed in theatrical burlesque attire, but their costumes were in stark contrast to the man before her. She looked him over one more time with satisfaction. He was dressed in a tux, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his bow-tie knotted loosely, but otherwise, he was fully dressed and did not seem as though he was taking part in whatever was going on. Unsure why, Molly nodded her approval.
This seemed to amuse him, causing her stomach to flutter as they locked eyes. This man fancied her.
And in that moment, she realised that she was experiencing lust. Overwhelming rip-his-shirt-right-off lust. It rocked her to her core. With a gasp, she swiftly closed the door.
Once outside, she took a moment to calm her breathing. It was hot. Her head was in a spin. Molly would feel at home in any kitchen, anywhere in the world, but put her in the middle of what looked like an aristocratic orgy and she was certainly a fish out of water. She began fanning her face before bolting back to the lift with her trolley and down to the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the platters. The sooner she delivered them and got out of there, the fewer rules she might break.
