Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (54 page)

I’m curious. “How’s he taking it?

“Well, he’s been reticent. Moody, snappy, pensive. Unlike himself.”

“Those aren’t unusual reactions.” I shrug. “I’d be worried if he wasn’t. Shows he gives a damn.”

Kiera laughs. “I’m fairly certain he gives more than a damn. A few damns, at least. Maybe even a billion.”

Pausing, I inhale deeply, then lock eyes with her. “I know I’m young and the future is unpredictable and all that, but, I feel…I feel like it ends with him.”

“You know romance and talk of love makes my skin crawl…” My BFF’s face softens, eyes smiling. “But I believe so, too, bestie.”

The hotel gym is quiet at this time and much too chilly for a place of sweat. There are a handful of people getting their sweat on, but I clock Noah the second I push through the doors.

He’s going at max-speed on a treadmill, drops of sweat drizzling like rain, a troubled expression owning his face.

I navigate around the various machines to the line of treadmills. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors run along the wall, so he spots me halfway there.

Stepping onto the empty treadmill next to his, I throw my hand towel over the handle, program it to automatic for an hour, and begin running alongside him.

We exchange looks in the mirror, but no words. It doesn’t matter. I just feel safe and content being near him. Like everything will be all right forever.

An hour later, sweating and feeling as if I’m about to faint from lack of sustenance, I step off the treadmill, grab the towel and wipe my sweat.

Noah continues beating at it, hard stare on me.

Throwing the towel around my neck, I walk over the water-cooler to hydrate myself. Once I feel a little less like I’m about to collapse, I trek back to treadmills. Stop at Noah’s. Prop my elbow on the handle, raising my head, my eyes, to look up at him. “Do you mind me asking what you’re running from, Mr. Van Der Wells?”

Turbulent green eyes scan my face for one heartbeat, two heartbeats, three, before he answers, hoarse and ragged, “You.”

“After going through all that trouble to find me last night,” I rejoin, tipping my head to the side. “Now you’re running from me? Hmm. Well, you’re not stupid at all.”

Right before my eyes, I see the distress seep from him, freeing him, and he stares at me even longer than three heartbeats. “You’re okay.”

It’s not a question. It appears the root of his anxiety was me.

“Of course, I’m okay,” I say with a forced eye roll, to put him at ease, to kill his worry about me. “Last night was ‘Three Hours in the Life of Andrew & Lotty -
Lite
.’ That’s the
least
of my nightmares with that dude. Plus, I kicked his ass, made him bleed, and couldn’t speak, so…Yeah, babe, I’m peachy.” I frown. “My only suggestion is that you start screening your security team. It’s crazy having your own securities colluding with your enemies.”

“I called in this morning,” he tells me. “Turns out Mike’s also related to your ex, on the mother’s side of the family. Feels his loyalty was to his blood.”

“Well, I hope his blood takes care of him,” I say bitterly. “Because his bodyguard career is o-v-e-r. Idiot.”

“You’re okay,” Noah observes once more.

“And you’re not.” I gesture up and down the length of his body, and then at the treadmill. “You’ve been in here how many hours? Four?”

“Four and a half.”

Letting out an annoyed breath, I tip up and stretch across the machine to stop it. At this, he shoots me an admonishing look, but I ignore it. “Look if you’re gonna run away from me, do it now or forever hold your peace. Otherwise, I need your undivided attention, some mollycoddling, some food, and some really, really hot sex. I get you need to sweat it out, but you can sweat it out giving me doggy style, boss man.”

One corner of his lip twitches as he steps down from the treadmill, gaze fixed on me. “You’re so okay.”

And then his arm snakes out and loops around my waist, reeling me in. The flush of his soaking wet body against mine, his damp hair flopping down on his forehead, the groove of teeth marks on his lower lip that tells he’d been biting down on it, the fire in his eyes…is everything. He’s everything.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention to Mike. I’m sorry for letting you go with him instead of taking you myself. I’m sorry that your mother was a bitch. I’m sorry that, at nineteen, you had to bury her. I’m sorry you had to lose everything. I’m sorry you suffered an abusive relationship. I’m sorry for every fear, worry, and anxiety you’ve ever felt. I’m sorry I didn’t search harder for you three years ago. I sorry for not finding you sooner.” His eyes close for a moment. Reopen. “I’m sorry for not telling you the moment I knew.”

The moment he knew? Oh Lord,
what
now
? “The moment you knew what?”

“That I’m in love with you.”

I blink at him. My mouth opens but only airs escapes. My heart does a triple somersault. “You…love me?”

Straight-faced, he answers, “No.”

“Wha—”

“I said I’m in love with you.”

Reckless Lotty faints, knowing her slut days are over, while Rational Lotty grins from ear-to-ear with red hearts for eyeballs. The two have been quiet for some time now. Leaving all the final decisions up to me.

“And the moment you knew was…?”

“When you received your engagement ring. The real truth is, I didn’t reply to your text message because I was mad at you for not telling me you were engaged. I realized the reason I was so pissed was because I wanted to be your first and your only proposal. Then I think,
proposal
?
Marriage
proposal? And that’s when I knew: I wanted to propose to you one day, because I want to marry you one day, because
I’m in love with you
.”

A grin spreads across my face; I can’t help it. I feel young and stupid again, that this tall, striking, amazing male specimen is in love with a mess like me. “Hmm. I don’t think Gloriel is going to be as happy about this revelation as I am.”

He shrugs. “She’ll get over it. About the time you have my ring on your finger and my baby in your belly.” 

My grin grows broader. “You want your baby in my belly?”

“I want a lifetime with you, Lotty.” His sincere tone matches his eyes, and I just want to crawl into him and make love to his soul.

On tippy toes I go, and, knowing what I want, he brings his lips down on my mine. His kiss is soft, apologetic, and full of so much love.

When we part, I tell him, “I’ll never do you like she did, babe. Never.”

He presses his thumb to my chin, smiles. “I believe you.”

T
WENTY-
N
INE

N
OAH MAKES USE
of Mike’s now unoccupied room, seeing as the whole gang is hanging out in my suite.

We collected a key to his room, went up, showered, and then ordered room service because I was too starved to think of sex. Same for Noah who’d been at it in the gym for four-and-a-half hours. We ordered almost everything on the menu, and by the time we were done, we were so stuffed, sex seemed like a difficult mathematical equation, so we gave up and watched hotel cable until we passed out.

“Babe, get up.” It’s sundown when I feel Noah rocking me awake. “Mom called. Your brother and his mother are downstairs. Apparently, Mom made dinner plans.”

Rolling over, eyes refusing to open, body refusing to liven, I grumble, “What time is it?”

“After seven.”

“Would I be an asshole if I didn’t go?”

He chuckles. “Yes. You haven’t seen your brother in a while, have you?”

“Boo,” I gripe. “You told me you were in love with me, Mr. Van Der Wells. Which means, you’re supposed to enable me.”

I don’t get a response, his weight suddenly gone from the bed. Suspicious, I’m about to open my eyes when a yelp rips from my mouth at the sting of his palm to my bare ass.

Eyes wide open now, I roll over again, and find him looming over me with a raised brow. “How’s that for enabling you?”

I
glare
. “You. Will. Pay.”

He shrugs. “Eh.” Snatches up his key card and heads for the door. “Looking forward to it, Little Lotty.”

Gloriel is wearing annoyance like a fancy scarf when we get back to the suite. She’s alone, pacing, checking her diamond bracelet watch. She glances up, sees us, and is down my throat before I can get a word out. “I told you I needed to talk to you two, and instead of going to get him, you
join
him, and then you
both
disappeared?”

“We didn’t disappear, Mom,” Noah tells her lightheartedly. “I texted you.”

She grouches, “The text didn’t say you would be gone all day.”

“We fell asleep,” I butt in, and immediately regret it. Better not to place any images in her head.

She scowls at me. I duck my head.

Noah struts, cool as cucumber, to the mini fridge, getting a bottled water. “What is this important thing you need to talk to us about?” As Gloriel opens her mouth, he hastily adds, “If it’s more disapproval of my relationship with Lotty, don’t waste your breath. I’m not giving her up. I love her. She loves me. Get used to the idea.”

“Love?” Her green eyes blow wide. “You know you
love
her after only a few weeks?”

“As well as I knew I loved pepperoni pizza after the first bite and wouldn’t ever give it up, six packs or not.”

Gloriel looks as if she’s about to explode, but then she closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling for a few beats before reopening them. “Although this is not what I wanted to talk to you about,
this
particular discussion is not over, because hell no, I’m
not
getting ‘used to the idea.’ At the moment, we don’t have the time to discuss what I wanted to discuss because Graham and Sarah are in the restaurant downstairs waiting for us. I will run down and keep them company while you two change out of these hotel robes. Sarah will talk to you about it.”

“Talk to me about what?” I start to ask, but Gloriel is already brushing past us and out the door. I turn to Noah. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about? And why did she arrange a dinner with Sarah without checking with me first?”

Noah doffs his robe and moves in, predatory,
buck nekkid
.

“In the mood for a quickie?” he mumbles, kissing on my neck as he unties my robe and pushes it off my shoulders, the fluffy garment pooling at my ankles.

“We can’t,” I reject in a tone that begs to differ. “Gloriel…we don’t ha—hmmmohgod…”

My refusal dissolves in a breathy moan as his fingers find my clit in the same time his mouth latches onto my nipple. I’m reduced to nothing but a melting pool of desire, defenseless. My hands grip to his shoulders for balance as my head falls back, prayers of pleasure drifting to the heavens.

Dropping to his knees, Noah hooks my left leg over his shoulder, my fingers automatically digging through his hair. Growling into my heat, he sucks me to celestial heights, another life-space, heat racing up my spine…

We don’t have a quickie. As Noah
does not
know the definition of “quickie.” What we have is a halfie, which, for regular people, is a full round. 

Our session ends abruptly, while I’m bent over a chair, Noah pounding into me like mad: Gloriel calls up to the room, demanding to know what’s taking us so long.

There’s a long pause on the phone, and, as if she guessed what we were doing, I swear she
snarls
into the phone.

A Gloriel who’s been driven to the point of snarling is not to be trifled with, Noah tells me, so in less than five minutes, we’re dressed and out of the suite.

On our way to the private dining room at Parallel 7, Qwesie materializes from out of thin air and intercepts with a confused expression. “Mate, where are you off to? The meeting is
that
way. The Lounge?”

Noah is blank. “What meeting?”