The Heir & I: Taming The Billionaire (13 page)

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deanna,” he offered, pinning her with a weak
attempt at a charming smile. “I thought we had a perfectly nice date that evening.”

Deanna nodded.

“And we were supposed to have another,” s
he reminded him with a sniff. “Only after a long session of passionate lovemaking, you never called or e-mailed me once. And when I returned here last Christmas, to dance my signature role of Clara in The Nutcracker, you didn’t even bother to attend the performance!”

“Guess his nuts weren’t big enough to face you again,” I murmured, adding as I tilted my head in her direction, “I’m not
sure if you remember me, Miss. I’m Lily Ashton—you and I went to school together once upon a time.”

After pinning my hapless date with one last savage glare, Deanna brightened immediately as she turned to face me with a broad smile of instant recognition.

“Lily!” she exclaimed. “I do remember you!
You were always the smartest gal in class, and you always cracked everyone up with your funny remarks. It’s so good to see you!”

I nodded.

“It’s good to see you too,” I returned, engaging her in the same warm, friendly handshake that had been
denied me moments beforehand. “I’m so pleased to see you and may I say, Deanna, that you delivered a flawless performance tonight—absolutely beautiful.”

Deanna nodded, and blushed very prettily.

“T
hank you, Miss Lily. You are so sweet.” She squeezed my hand, adding as she turned away, “Much too sweet, I must say, to be dating the likes of Oliver Clark.”

And with these words, she was gone.

As Oliver wriggled and shifted in his chair, seemi
ng to hope with fervor that the ever convenient trap stage door that you used to see in old movies would open up and swallow him whole, a quiet Vladimir extended his hand to me.

“Care for a tour of the stage area?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I’ve never cared more for a tour of the stage area,” I told him, adding over my shoulder, “And you, Oliver, are not invited.”

Taking Vladimir’s arm, I ignored Oliver’s probing gaze as I followed my guide through the solid black door that accessed the stage area.

My worries fell away the moment that my feet touched the stage; suddenly I found
myself in a fantasy wilderness; the mystical world of Swan Lake.

Now it was I who stood by the mirrored likeness of a lush crystalline lake; admiring the dew-glistened scarlet red roses and pearl pink carnations that adorned its surrounding bushes
… yet not as much as I adored the man that now extended his hand to me; drawing me into his mystical world with this single grand gesture.

Laying my palm into his, I allowed the dancer to draw me in to his smooth, sinuous movement; suddenly feeling as light as air as he moved and swayed me across the stage.

Drawing me closer, Vladimir draped his lithesome arm around my waist and pulled me just a bit closer; suddenly my own arms wrapped around the shoulders that I’d admired from a distance so many times; staring into the deep, dark eyes I’d seen in my dreams; finally my body was pressed against the flawless form that often ignited my fantasies.

With a contented sigh I sank happily into a dream of an embrace; all thoughts of Oliver fleeing my mind as my mo
vements merged with Vladimir’s. Suddenly my body found a new grace, moving in flawless synch with his across a lighted stage.

“A woman like you deserves to be treated like a princess,” he whispered in my ear, leaning my b
ody backward in a poetic dip. “And as much as I like Oliver, I sense that he does not value you.”

I nodded.

“Your instincts are correct…
most of the time, anyway, Oliver does not truly grasp and value everything I bring to his life,” I agreed, adding with a slight shrug, “Oh, don’t get me wrong. Oliver really is a good guy, he just needs to start exploring and showing off his deeper side.”

I grinned in spite of myself as my words were m
et with a long, stunned silence, one immediately followed by the words, “Oliver has a deep side?”

I laughed.

“Trust me, he does,”
I assured him. “It just needs to show itself on a more regular basis. You know what, though? I don’t want to think at this point, about him or anything else. Right now, Vladimir, I just want to feel.”

I took in my breath as, erasing all distance between us, the dancer pulled me closer than close and said, “Feel this.”

I took in my breath as, in a single smooth flourish, Vladimir’s strong arms encircled my waist and lifted me high above his head; elevating my body in an effortless arch that sent me soaring into the air.

I felt like I was flying through the air; my heart and soul joining my body in a majestic cascade.

For moments I was suspended in time and space; feeling at once his hands at my waist, his strong presence beneath me, and the encompassing atmosphere of the ebullient stage that threatened to consume me.

I almost let loose with a groan of disappointment as Vladimir lowered me to the ground; a feeling that dissolved seconds later, as he pressed his full, moist lips against my cheek in a whisper soft kiss.

“Thank you for this dance, Miss.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.
It was all beautiful and graceful and all that—but may I cut in now?”

No, these word
s certainly didn’t come from me, but from the man who had escorted me to the theater that evening.

Pinning us with a cool stare, Oliver held his arms open to me; grinning in triumph as a surrendering Vladimir released me into his care.

“Sorry, babe,” t
he dancer whispered in my ear. “His father owns the theater.”

I shook my head.

“Yeah,” I assented, adding as I raised my chin in Oliver’s dir
ection, “But he doesn’t own me. And if Oliver wants to dance with me, he can ask me politely.”

Oliver looked at me a long moment, then nodded.

“You’re absolutely right,” he assented, adding as he extended a chivalrous hand in my direction, “Miss Ashton, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

I grinned in spite of myself as I took his hand; cringing only slightly as a quiet Vladimir retreated from the stage.

Soon the atmosphere brimmed with the sound of a jazzy, rhythmic tune; one that flew free and fast from an overhead stereo system.

“How did y
ou do that?” I asked him, floating forward into his arms as he pulled me closer to him.

“Ownership has its privileges,” he growled, erasing all distance between us as he swept me up in his arms.

I
nodded my agreement, adding as I looked him straight in the eyes, “Just remember this much, Oliver Clark. You still don’t own me.”

“No, I don’t
,” he assured me immediately. “But maybe, just maybe, I could lure you around to my way of thinking. I’ll never own you, but at least let me show you a really good time.”

With these sleekly spoken words, Oliver set our bodies in motion; swinging me around the stage with uncommon grace as his muscular body moved against mine.

Although not as technically skilled as Vladimir, Oliver moved with a snakelike sliv
er that far surpassed his rivals in terms of pure, unbridled sensuality.

Or maybe not so pure, judging by the way he was making me feel…

Pulling back with a distinct sniff, I looked Oliver straight in the eyes; only noticing how those wide, dark gems
glowed in the lights above us. I also couldn’t help but admire the way that his bronzed skin absolutely glowed in this very same light; along with the strands of cinnamon hair that fell soft against my shoulder.

I then surrendered to his touch as we danced across the floor; his massaging hands rubbing up and down my back as he continued to undulate in my arms.

My eyes shut as I suddenly imagined Oliver and me performing a far more intimate dance; one performed naked as we kissed passionately and rolled wild in one another’s arms.

My body relaxed and my mind flew free as the fantasy intensified; transporting me from our public surroundings to a place of hot, sensual fantasy.

I’d visited this same place many times in my dreams; but the presence and intensity of his red hot touch made it all the more real.

Neither of us noticed when the music subsided; our bodies kept swaying closer together as fantasy consumed us.

“So Lily,” Oliver whispered in my ear, gatherin
g up my body in a loving hug. “Despite a few rough spots, I’d say that we still had a wonderful evening. What do you think?”

Drawing back just far enough to open my eyes and grace him with a serene smile, I nodded and agreed, “Downright magical.”

Chapter
Eight

~

Lily

Last night I slept with dreams of dancers in my head; two beautiful men whose grace and beauty enflamed my imagination and sparked my hottest desires.

Alternately throughout the night I dreamt of moving and writhing in Vladimir’s arms; and, mor
e intimately, in Oliver’s bed. Even in my sleep my heart pounded as I contemplated kissing and embracing that perfect body, of sinking in those delectable arms as our beings merged and we collapsed together in a fit of sublime, uncontrollable ecstasy.

The first light of day, however, did much to tame and restra
in my wild sensual imaginings. Indeed, as I wriggled and shifted in my sweat-laden sheets, I thought immediately of the uncomfortable scene that had transpired yesterday between Oliver and Deanna Morgan.

I remember hearing the anger in her voice and seeing the pain in her
eyes; and reminded myself that if I wasn’t careful, I would feel the same emotions I saw reflected in her eyes.

Maybe it’s already too late,
I mused, biting my lip as I sat up in bed.

As it stood, I already felt my heart beat just a little bit faster every time I looked at
or as much as thought of Oliver. Was it too late to save myself?