Filthy Rich, Wild with Lust

Chapter 15

“Pfft.” We hear a tsk from the doorway. Henley is now upstairs and looking unimpressed.

Seriously?

“Henley.” I hold my hands out. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He puts his hands in his suit pockets as he looks around. “Just interested in what Joel has to say, that’s all.”

“Wait downstairs,” I reply.

“No, I’m good.” He stands beside Joel and looks around the bedroom, legs wide, with his dominance overpowering the room.

Joel scribbles on his notepad, and I can tell that Henley has rattled him. “I think that should do me,” Joel says as he makes for the stairs. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can discuss.”

“Or you could just be professional and email her,” Henley says from the top of the stairs.

I bite the side of my mouth to stop myself from smiling as I follow Joel down the stairs.

He’s jealous.

Joel glances up at Henley, and I see him come to the same conclusion. “I’ll be doing that after our discussion,” he fires back. “So what colors are we thinking, Juliet?” Joel asks me.

“I really like white, but then I want it warm, so perhaps cream would be a better option?” I shrug. “What do you think?”

“I’m going to make some mood boards up for you, and we can really dive deep into the essence of the property.”

I glance up and see Henley roll his eyes in an overexaggerated way.

“Fantastic.” I smile as I open the front door. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“It was really great to meet you, Juliet.” He shakes my hand; he glances over to Henley as he stands on my stairs. “Henley.”

“Goodbye, Joel.” Henley smiles sarcastically.

I close the door behind Joel, and I turn toward Henley, who is standing halfway up the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“Walking down the stairs.”

“No, you’re not. You are trying to annoy me. That’s what you’re doing, and let me tell you—it’s working.”

He holds his hand out in surrender. “What?”

I walk into my kitchen and flick the kettle on. “What did you want to see me about?” I snap.

“I came to talk about Saturday night.”

I frown, confused. “What about Saturday night?”

“The wedding.”

“You’re not coming to the wedding,” I scoff.

“Yes, I am. Debbie invited me.”

“You don’t even know Debbie.”

“It would be rude of me not to go after I said I would.”

“No.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“You don’t have good behavior, Henley, let alone best.” I hold up a coffee cup. “You’ve perfected assholism, remember?”

“Got any wine?”

“No,” I snap. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Fine.”

“What do you want, Henley? And before you say anything stupid, think very carefully about your reply because I am sick of your childish tantrums.”

His eyes hold mine.

“If you want to have an adult conversation, let’s have it,” I say as I make the coffee and then sit at the kitchen counter. He slouches onto the stool beside me. We sit in awkward silence for a while, and I can tell that my lecture is rolling around in his head.

“When you moved onto the street, it’s possible that we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Possible?”

“Probable,” he agrees.

I sip my coffee as my body goes into fluttering overdrive. Just sitting beside him makes me want to do dirty things. Damn it, why is he so gorgeous? It would be so much easier to be repelled by him if he was hideous.

“Anyway, I just thought... Saturday night we could come out to your friends and pretend to”—he pauses—“be together... for the story’s sake, one last time. Before we spectacularly break up.”

“What would Vanessa say about that?”

A frown flashes across his face. “Who’s Vanessa?”

“I was outside the other night, and I saw her arrive.”

“Oh.” He thinks for a moment. “Not that it’s any of your business, Vanessa and I have an agreement where neither is bothered by what the other one does.”

“She’s a booty call?”

“She’s a very nice lady”—he smirks—“who does offer her booty.”

“Oh.” I fall silent. What do you even say to that?

“I’m a very s****l person, Juliet. I have needs.” He sips his coffee. “I do what any highly sexed single person does to get by.”

I remember.

After a while he says, “Vanessa won’t be visiting me again.”

“Why?”

“I’m no longer interested in her.”

His eyes drop to my lips, and he gives me the best come-f**k-me look of all time.

I nervously sip my coffee.

“And there lies the problem,” he continues.

I frown as I try to keep up with the conversation.

What problem?

“I like to keep my dating life and my home life separate, and especially with you being you.”

“Me being me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come off it.” He rolls his eyes. “The night we spent together wasn’t exactly an earth-shattering moment.”

It was for me. My heart sinks.

“You were engaged to another man, for f**k’s sake.”

It wasn’t exactly an earth-shattering moment.

Our night meant nothing to him. He hasn’t thought about it again since.

“You’re right.” I look up, determined to get over this d**k. “I was.”

His cold eyes hold mine.

Awkward...

“What?” I sip my coffee, feeling like an errant child.

“So... let me get this straight. You were engaged to be married while f*****g other men.”

“We had an open relationship,” I lie.

He tilts his chin to the sky, angered. “I don’t know much about marriage, but I can be pretty f*****g sure I wouldn’t be sharing my future wife.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling uneasy with his contempt. “What do you want, Henley?” I snap. “Did you barge in here to make me feel like s**t? Because mission accomplished, you’ve done just that.”

He stands. “I will pick you up on Saturday for the wedding.”

I stare at him, and I know that I should stay far away from this selfish bastard forever.

Move house even.

But the thought of being on his arm just one more time sends me into overdrive.

“Three o’clock,” I murmur.

His eyes hold mine. “Three o’clock.”

It’s 5:40 a.m., and I am on the front porch, stretching for my run. Right on cue, Henley’s front door opens, and he walks out in his suit.

My heart somersaults in my chest at the mere sight of him.

Where does he go so early every day?

His office doesn’t open until nine. I mean, I know he would have to go in early sometimes, but every single day, even on weekends?

He glances up and gives me a sexy smile. We stare at each other for a beat longer than necessary, and then he gets into his car and drives out.

He gives me a casual wave as he drives past, and like the fangirl I am, I wave right back.

I watch his car disappear around the corner and make a mental note of what I have to do today.

Buy a new dress, the hottest one known to man. Book a hair appointment for Saturday and get everything waxed.

I mean everything.

A knock sounds at my door. It’s Saturday, after the longest week in history.

He’s here.

I’m regretting this before I even go. Stupid, stupid. What am I thinking? Just get it over with.

I open the door in a rush. “Hi.”

His eyes drop down to my toes and back up to rest on my face. “Hello.” He gives me a slow sexy smile. “You look”—he inhales sharply—“good.”

I try to hide my smile; he likes the dress. “Hello, Henley.” I grab my purse and shawl.

We get into his car, and he pulls out onto the road. “How was your week?” he asks.

Long.

“Good, thanks. How was yours?”

“Busy.”

I twist my fingers in my lap and stare out the window as we drive, and I go over the game plan for today.

Stay distant.

Whatever I do, remember that this is just a game to him.

I can’t be too chatty or friendly. I just have to let the day pan out.

We drive in silence for the rest of the way and finally pull into the parking lot.

The wedding is at a big country house estate. The gardens are beautiful, and I can see the white chairs lined up in rows near a floral arbor. That must be where the vows will be exchanged.

I internally count the ways that this could end badly. “This looks nice,” he says as he parks the car.

“It does.” My nerves are pumping, and suddenly this doesn’t seem like such a smart strategy.

He opens my car door and takes my hand and pulls me up into his arms, our faces only millimeters away from each other’s, and my breath catches.

His eyes darken and drop to my lips. “Today, you’re mine.”

I inch back from him. “Pretending to be yours.”

He smirks before licking his lips. And somehow, I think his conquering me has become the world’s greatest challenge. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he takes my hand in his. “Invitation?”

Sweetheart.

I dig in my bag and pass it to him. And he reads it as we walk. “Just so you know how to act today, I like my women submissive.”

Ha... you wish.

“Just so you know how to act today,” I reply as we walk across the parking lot, “I like my men submissive.”