Page 2 of The Damaged Billionaire

“A woman should never have to buy her own drinks. Especially one like you,” he says with a small smile playing on his lips, which I return easily. I take a sip of my cocktail, trying to settle my nerves, and enjoy feeling the alcohol as it burns down my throat.

“So what about you?” I ask, sitting back into my seat. I might as well get comfortable while I am here, even if it is only for one drink.

“What about me?”

“What ridiculous things has your family member done?” He looks too perfect and seems too smart to even put up with anyone’s drama. What kind of troubles would follow a man like him around?

“How long have you got?” He raises his brow in question.

I watch him for a beat. His eyes twinkle in the mood lighting from the bar, making me smile a little more. Saide is right; I forget what it is like to date, having not been on one in a long, long time. The feeling of excitement at the initial flirt, the desire that swirls when getting to know one another. My stomach has butterflies already fluttering around in my belly, just being in his presence.

“I’ve got all night.” I don’t miss this way his lips curve up at the corners before he takes another slow slip of his drink.

“I have a crazy mother, a famous brother, two other extremely successful brothers, and a dead father.” The words fly out from him quickly, and my lips purse as I hold back my wince.

“Okay. You win,” I say, smiling sympathetically.

“Thank you.” His shoulder lifts in a small shrug as he reciprocates my smile. Lifting my glass to his in a mock cheers for our problems, he clinks his glass with mine, and we both share a laugh.

“Parents?” he asks me in return. I am usually not one to open up to anyone, let alone a perfect stranger. But for some reason, I feel totally at ease with this man, and I don’t even know his name. He drapes his arm on the back of my chair as he settles into his seat, getting more comfortable. Our new proximity has those butterflies traveling south as I get a whiff of his delicious cologne. When our eyes meet, I can’t help the shiver that moves through me.

I have all of his attention. And I really, really like it.

“Alive. Well. Old. In the Midwest,” I offer, and I think I feel his fingers twitch a little on my back, but I can’t be sure. My heart is thumping out of my chest as I try to keep my cool. Be the confident woman I am. Sure, I have been out before, met men in bars even, but it’s been a long time. I have been married to my job for the better part of two years, so my time in the sheets has been somewhat lacking.

“Midwest? You’re a long way from home then, aren’t you?” Is he asking another question or making a statement? I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that if he keeps staring at me like he is, I am going to have to change my underwear. He looks like he wants to eat me whole.

“My sister and I left there years ago. DC is my home now. What about you?” I notice him still watching me intently as I take a sip, his pupils dilating. My mouth hits the salty rim of my glass, and I lick my lips, tasting the salt. I think the temperature in this room just went up a few degrees.

“Maryland is my home, always has been,” he says simply. He’s intriguing to me. One minute, he seems more playful, the next, almost stoic. I’ll keep this conversation going all night if he lets me.

“So are you here on business or pleasure?” My head tilts up at him, my hair flowing down to his finger which I am now certain twitches against it.

“Was business…” he says, and I can hear the dot-dot-dot. My body screams at my mind to take the opening and run with it.

“And now pleasure?” I ask, our eyes locked in what seems like an unspoken exchange.

“You tell me.” He puts it out there, confirming my thoughts, and I suck in a breath. To have a man be this forward is giving me a sense of power I didn’t know I wanted.

“Mmmm. You are too smooth for your own good,” I murmur, smirking. I watch as his eyes travel down my body, taking in my face, the curve of my breasts, down to my bare legs, and I feel like I am going to melt right here on the spot. I am so glad I dressed up tonight.

He swallows roughly, his jaw clenching subtly, and I squeeze my thighs together in response. This is the hottest moment I have ever experienced—and we haven’t even done anything. Yet…

“Is it working?” A cheeky grin pulls at his lips, lighting up his wicked gaze, causing me to laugh.

“Maybe,” I say, my eyes never leaving his. And as the soothing bar music plays in the background, I realize I am without a doubt going to sleep with this man tonight.

CHAPTER TWO - TENNYSON ROTHSCHILD

Her voice coats me in comfort from the inside out, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say I am five whiskeys in. Given I am still on my first glass, and it is only two fingers, I know that is not the case.

I couldn’t miss her as she strutted straight up to the bar and plonked herself next to me, huffing and puffing the entire time. My eyes have been glued to her ever since. Curves for days. Red pouty lips, a dress doing everything it is meant to for her incredible body, and I already want to strip it off her.

That is what I like about New York. It is a melting pot of people. It’s why I stayed an extra night, because even though my face might be familiar in Baltimore, less people pay attention here. There are no paparazzi bothering me, especially when there are Hollywood celebrities down the street they can chase. New York gives me anonymity, time for me to just be myself. Not the Rothschild I was born to be.

“Married?” I ask her, already predicting that she isn’t. If she was upset with her sister for being the other woman, I doubt she’d flirt with me if she was taken.

“To my job. You?” she fires back to me, then takes another sip of her cocktail. My eyes lower from her playful gaze to her lips as they glisten around the glass. As she pulls away, I notice a flake of salt sticking to her bottom lip, and I bite my own so I don’t lean forward and lick it clean.

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