“We can go in mine,” Darren snapped.
“Oh, don’t start this again.” I shook my head. “Decide nicely or I’ll be getting the damn Tube home.”
If the billionaires could be so abrupt with me, I’d be snappy with them.
“Fine,” Darren shrugged, “but we’re going back to my hotel.”
“Where are you staying?”
While the boys argued amongst themselves I took the date book and locked it away in my desk. I’d filled up a lot of the year and some dates had drifted into the next one. With the business I’d secured I was guaranteed to finish the fiscal year pleasantly in profit. I might even be able to afford a holiday. If I could persuade myself to stay away from Diamonds long enough.
When I walked back over to them the boys were silent.
“So, are we actually ready now?”
Greg reacted first, slipping his arm into mine and smiling.
“Yes, it seems me and Darren are staying at the same hotel.”
“Wonderful,” I smiled, intensely relieved. “Lead the way.”
Darren took hold of my other arm and we strode out together. I wasn’t expecting the barrage of flashing lights and yelled questions that greeted us. I supposed I had been a little naïve. The boys, with the aid of some huge security guards, pushed past the demands and we scooted into the back of a shiny black limousine. The mellow scent of leather filled the interior. Everything sparkled. I felt like we were in a separate car to the driver who was way, way down at the front.
“Are we going to the hotel, sir?” a polite voice asked. It sounded like it came from behind me, which was puzzling until I realised there was some kind of intercom device. Greg reached to the side of the limo and pressed a button.
“Yes, please, Chester.”
I would have liked more space to actually enjoy the ride home but I was crowded by two competing men and so spent my time flipping my gaze from one to the other, answering questions. Both were squeezed up close to me and both seemed determined to seduce me. I found that mind-spinningly crazy.
“What perfume are you wearing?” Darren ducked his head to sniff at my neck. I was very aware of his lips hovering just above my pulse point. I wished he’d kiss me there.
“Oh, I don’t know. Something fruity.” My mind went completely blank.
“You smell good enough to eat.” Darren continued and his lips did touch my skin but only for the briefest second. My whole body tightened at the gentle kiss.
“Your dress is beautiful.” It seemed Greg was not to be outdone—in fact he boldly ran his hand down my body from my shoulder, over my breast and lower. “I love the feel of velvet.”
“Thank you,” I squeaked then cleared my throat. “Thanks, I love velvet too.”
Tension zinged through me, sexual and otherwise. These two guys who I’d only just met were making me into a battlefield. They were warring to control me.
I wasn’t a woman who enjoyed being mollycoddled. I took decisions, I dived into situations and I expected all of my staff to be respectful to both men and women. I’d reprimanded several for sexism and would go as far as to sack someone if they didn’t change their ways. I should have been appalled by the situation—I wasn’t just a trophy or a business contract. I should have kicked up a fuss and left then and there.
But I didn’t. I liked being the centre of attention. I liked being the prize they both wanted.
I waited for the next move but we pulled up outside the hotel so I had to wait until we exited the car. Again, both men linked arms with me. It was cold outside but apart from the cool breeze on my cheeks I barely felt it because their hard bodies protected me from the elements.
They whisked me across the marble frontage, past the liveried doorman and into a huge reception area. It glittered with prestige and marble. Everything was perfect, neat and tidy. There was nothing overly ornate or showy but you could tell by the purposeful minimalism that this was a very classy place. The kind of place I’d only ever imagined visiting.
We moved across the hall into the bar. Again it was big, shiny but understated. The bar was long and all the staff behind it were in immaculately cut uniforms. They all looked smart and tidy and I looked on with envy. I wished I could get my own staff to look so impressive.
“What would you like to drink?” Darren asked and smirked at Greg.
“I’d love a glass of water, really,” I replied, “I’m so thirsty.”
“I’ll get them to send over some water too, but should we have some champagne? It was a very good night for us all after all.”
Both Darren and Greg had won awards and I was sure they’d both made several deals too as they played the room.
“Yes, why not?” Greg answered before me. “Champagne sounds good.”
When Darren moved away Greg turned to me.
“Look, Kerry, I really would love to spend the night with you but it is killing me to be nice to him.”
“This is you being nice?”
“Exactly.” He almost smiled. I found it surprisingly endearing. “Please can we dump the other guy?”
“No.” I was very firm, it surprised even me. “No, I said I wanted to spend time with you both, so that is what’s going to happen. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”
“God, woman. You’re infuriatingly stubborn.” He growled.
“Now that is a case of the pot calling the kettle black.” I laughed.
Greg sighed. “I’m not used to being told what to do, Kerry. I’m the one in control.”
“I’d noticed, but if you want me, you play by my rules.” It was fun playing him at his own game.
“Oh, I want you.” His growl turned to a gravelly purr. It wasn’t cute, it was the noise of a killer beast merely at rest. Any moment he could pounce and rip me apart. It turned me on. I wriggled in my seat and my damp knickers chafed against my plump lips.
“Then you’ll share nicely.” I leaned in and kissed him. He was shocked, almost as much as I was. His lips were hard and ungiving for a moment—I thought maybe I’d pushed him too far—but then they melted, opened and pushed back and I felt his pent-up arousal running into me. I released my frustrated desire with every move of my lips.
We pulled apart and I had to pant to regain my breath while he licked his lips like he was savouring the taste.
“I’ll do it for you,” he said. I was intoxicated with the power of having him under my control.
“Hey, I want one too.” Darren came back, placed a glass of water before me and pressed his lips to mine. His were plump and giving. He prodded his tongue between my lips, into my mouth, taking control of the kiss and control of me. I felt like I might explode into a million pieces. I hadn’t been kissed in months and now I’d had two smoking hot smooches in as many minutes from two very hot but very different men.
“Okay,” I gasped when he pulled away, “now you’re even.”
The guys glowered at each other. I looked around the room to calm my nerves. Not a single person looked at us. Obviously such things happened often in bars of high-class hotels. It didn’t happen often to me. At all, in fact. I wondered if I was dreaming. I pinched my thigh below the table. It hurt. I definitely wasn’t dreaming.
A tall, skinny waiter brought us a bottle of champagne stood in a silver ice bucket. Balanced on his tray were three tall flutes. He transferred everything to our table with great pomp. I was in awe of his skill.
“Thank you,” I called. He nodded his head politely and walked off.
I knew a little about wine and champagne, only because my barman told me what I needed to order. The champagne in the bucket was clearly expensive—I’d never even heard of the name—and it was suitably French, obviously. I was sure Darren had ordered the most expensive in the place just to outdo Greg. I outdid both of them by just sipping at my water.
“Shall we take the rest of the bottle to my room?”
I nearly choked when I heard what Greg had said.
“Well, you wanted us to share nicely and I don’t think that even in an establishment like this where confidentiality is taken seriously we could share you, nicely or otherwise, right here in the bar.”
It took a moment to register that Greg Stamford, billionaire high-flyer and serious hottie, was propositioning me for a threesome. I’d agreed to it earlier, but it still seemed too much like a fairy tale to be actually real.
“I agree, mate. We’d get chucked out. Want to go to my room? It’s the Ambassador Suite.” Darren announced this like I should be impressed. Maybe it was the most expensive room in the hotel? I wasn’t sure.
“My room has the best view over the city,” Greg snapped.
“Yes, that’s what they tell people who can’t get in the Ambassador Suite.”
“Boys, stop it.” My voice was quite loud. The low murmur of conversation stopped for a moment, then carried on.
“Look. You are both very rich, I get it. You both want to be top dog, I get that too, but would you stop bickering like bloody schoolboys, okay? I am very flattered, truly, and I never in a million years would have imagined being in this situation…” I left the sentence hanging and gathered my thoughts.
“Please don’t say no.” Darren’s smile dissipated. “I’m sorry.”
“Well—” I tried to continue with my tirade. I had the moral high ground. I was going to say thanks but no thanks and leave both gentleman hanging, but say that I hoped they’d both still honour their bookings. I was going to make a stand, I really was. Then… Well, I’m not quite sure what happened.
“I’m sorry too,” Greg added. “We’re just billionaires used to getting our own way. Let’s go to the Ambassador Suite, it’s a lovely room.”
Had I heard that right? Had Greg Stamford apologised and ceded to his most hated rival?
“Yes, let’s,” Darren nodded. “Please, Kerry?”
I challenge any woman alive to not cave in when hit with not one but two sets of puppy dog eyes from intensely handsome men. I couldn’t do it.
“Come on then,” I whispered, “lead the way.”