Page 2 of The Billionaire's Secret Heart

I couldn't stop tugging my skirt down or checking to make sure I hadn't fallen out of Emily's push-up bra. I was very curvy. The push-up bra was overkill, but she'd insisted the dress demanded cleavage. Well, cleavage I had. So much cleavage, I was tempted to ogle my own breasts. I normally didn't see this much of them outside of the shower.

Stuart led me past the line and past the two bouncers guarding the door, one studying the ID of a tall blonde girl, the other holding back a velvet rope to allow a brunette in a little black dress and her suited date to enter. In Emily's clothes, I'd blend in, but Stuart was going to stick out like a sore thumb with his khakis and elbow patches. We walked around the corner into a wide, well-lit alley. Halfway down the alley, there was a second entrance, with a single bouncer and no line. I held my breath, ready for Stuart's coin to be rejected.

The bouncer gave Stuart an indecipherable look as he examined the shiny gold coin, then slid it into his pocket. "ID," he said. We showed him our IDs, waiting while he flashed a light over them, making a point of giving special attention to Stuart's. When his eyes slid to me, they warmed with a smile and he gave me a friendly nod as he returned my license and stamped both of our hands. "You're good. Enjoy."

He opened the door and stepped back to allow us to enter. I forgot about Stuart, my aching feet and my software glitch. I forgot everything as we entered the dark of the club. Scents hit me, a swirl of perfume and alcohol, which blended with the pulse of music, enveloping us in the heart of the club. The lights were low, flashing every so often in time with the music, but I could see the interior of the club well enough. As I'd expected, it was filled with beautiful people, dancing and drinking as if they belonged there. The rest was a surprise.

I'd pictured something modern, shiny and new, with clean lines and sharp edges. Vaguely, I recalled hearing that the building had once been a church, then a theater. It explained why the central room soared above us, majestic and old world, with painted murals and gilt details on the ornate plaster. The club was at least four levels, and each one had balconies overlooking the main room. Taking in all the details, I followed Stuart past the bar to the side of the main room and up a flight of stairs. In the stairwell, the music dimmed enough for me to hear when Stuart shouted over his shoulder,

"The coin got us access to the VIP lounge on the third floor," he said, leading me up another flight of stairs.

I hoped he knew where he was going. We passed a few couples and a group of giggling girls on our trip from the main floor to the second, but once we reached the second floor, the stairwell had been empty. I was suddenly aware of being alone in the dark with a man I barely knew. Before I could decide what to do about that, we came to a stop in front of a heavy, tall, wooden door covered in ornate carvings that I could barely see in the dim light. Stuart hesitated before placing his palm on the polished surface and pushing it open.

CHAPTER TWO

JOSEPHINE

Istepped into the doorway of the VIP lounge and almost stumbled as my path was blocked by a wall of a man with a chest that looked as wide as the doorway.

"Hand," he barked, his eyes scanning me, then Stuart. I showed him my hand, and he studied the stamp, then did the same to Stuart before stepping back in silence to allow us entry.

Again, the room defied my expectations. Polished, dark wood surrounded us—in the beams of the ceiling, the walls, and the long, packed bar. Plush leather chairs and couches filled the room, creating intimate seating areas, an oasis of elegance and calm. If the club-goers in the lower levels had been glamorous, those up here were a cut above. Everything about the VIP lounge said wealth and privilege.

This wasn't a place to be seen. This was where the elite went to relax with their own kind. Again, I wondered from whom Stuart had gotten his VIP invite. Neither of us belonged here, not even close. I planned to enjoy my visit to the other side as long as it lasted. If nothing else, I was going to have tons to tell Emily when I got home.

I let Stuart lead me to a loveseat in a corner, the only place to sit that wasn't already claimed. Sharing the small couch with Stewart wasn't my idea of a good time, but the alternative was standing, and not only did my feet hurt, but I didn't want to attract that kind of attention. I sat, hugging the arm of the loveseat furthest from Stewart, and tried to arrange my legs so they were nowhere near his.

A waitress in a little black dress appeared beside me. She was stunning, with long, sleek blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. Her dress was blatantly sexy, displaying her miles of toned leg and more than a hint of cleavage, but it wasn't trashy. Her look was class, from head to toe. Stuart ordered for both of us—a draft for him and a rum and diet coke for me. The waitress must have caught my scowl, or she had good instincts, because she raised her eyebrow at me after Stuart's order. I smiled at her in appreciation.

"A Bellini, please." I'd have to spring for an Uber after this, but even if I wasn't driving, I had no intention of getting drunk with Stuart. I loved champagne, but even when it was mixed with something, I always ended up sipping it. Not only did I not drink rum and diet anything, but I didn't want a strong drink.

Stuart eyed my legs and said, "I would have thought a girl like you would order something lighter."

I didn't respond. First of all, with the way he was leering at my legs, it was clear he found them attractive. And second, any man with manners bad enough to comment on the calorie level in my drink was beyond saving. I wasn't going to waste my one visit to the VIP lounge of the hottest club in town on trying to civilize Stuart. He was beyond help.

Resolved to ignore him, I took a sip of my Bellini and turned to check out the rest of the room. The VIP lounge was the perfect place to people watch. I started with the seating area adjacent to ours. It was larger, with a full-size couch and two wide arm chairs. The closest side of the couch was inches from where I sat, hugging the arm of our loveseat. The far side was occupied by a man with his back to me. In one of the arm chairs, a tall, slender blonde perched, leaning into the man, her hand on his leg and a seductive smile on her face. Sitting closer to me was another man, also facing the blonde. I couldn't see either of their faces, but both men had broad shoulders, long legs, and the same thick, dark hair.

Stuart's hand landed on my knee, his touch cool and a little clammy. Yuck. Drawing my legs back, I tucked them to the side, the position uncomfortable but far better than having his fingers on me. He sucked at his drink, the slurping sound audible in the tight space, and leaned closer, his eyes glued to my breasts. Double yuck. I started to wonder if experiencing the VIP lounge was worth putting up with Stuart.

Desperate to divert him, I said, "So, what were you saying before about the current limits on campaign donations and how they can be finessed?"

Stuart started to talk, and all I heard was, "Wahh, wahh, wahh." If our dinner was any indication, he'd be good for at least twenty minutes before he ran out of steam. Knowing he wouldn't notice, I looked around the room again. This time, as I turned my head, my eyes fell on the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He was sitting on the end of the couch closest to me, his full lips quirked in amusement.

"Good one," he said, his low voice washing over me like warm honey. Dark eyes traveled my body slowly, making no effort to hide his appraisal. Unlike Stuart's leer, this man's look was all admiration. I crossed my legs, startled by the rush of heat between them from just a look.

"Excuse me?" I asked, watching him from the corner of my eye while keeping my face turned in Stuart's direction. The stranger gave a soft laugh.

"Please tell me this is a first date," he said, his voice quiet enough to avoid Stuart's attention. "You look way too smart to go out with this guy a second time."

I stifled a laugh and risked a quick turn of my head to meet his eyes, whispering, "Blind date. I almost left him at dinner when we split the check and he tried to stiff the waitress, but he had a VIP invite, and I've never been here before . . ." I trailed off, biting my lip.

I was constitutionally incapable of being cool. Oh, well. I was never one for pretending to be what I wasn't. Cool, at least the VIP level of cool, was beyond me. I shifted in my seat, angling my body toward the hot stranger as I turned my face back to Stuart. He was still rambling on about his dissertation and slurping at his drink, unaware I was talking to another man.

"Ouch," the stranger said. "How did a guy like that get a date with a woman like you? You're way out of his league."

I blushed. Feeling the heat in my cheeks, I blushed harder. I cleaned up well, but the make up and the short skirt weren't really me. This man was gorgeous. I'd bet he'd be gorgeous the morning after a bender, with no sleep, hungover. I took another quick look, one that ended up lingering as I took in his bladed cheekbones, deep brown eyes, and shining, thick hair the color of espresso. I couldn't see much of his body, but the length of his legs and the breadth of his shoulders hinted it would be worth getting a closer look.

The stranger beside me wasn't just some guy. He was a man. He lounged on the couch as if he owned the place, both commanding and at ease. I shifted in my seat as he tilted his head closer to mine, his warm breath on my cheek sending a pulse of need straight between my legs. I'd never reacted to a man like this, my body jumping to 'Go' before I knew his name. But as I mentioned, the man beside me was no 'guy'. He was more potent than any male I'd ever spoken to before. It was no wonder my body was overwhelmed.