Page 52 of The Billionaire's Promise

Magnolia petting me, soothing me with her low voice while she stroked my hair, her nails gently scratching my scalp—that was way fucking better. Her touch, her body, was more home to me than any place or person had been since I was eight years old.

I picked up my phone and prepared to make yet another call. I wanted to get this business over with so Rosie and I could go home to Magnolia. I had the number on the screen when the security system beeped to let me know someone was at the door. Fuck. Switching apps on my phone, I pulled up the camera.

Fuck. Fuck. Sloane.

Of all the people I didn't feel like talking to, Sloane was at the top of the list. She was annoying on a good day. Since she'd discovered Magnolia and I were together, she'd been a royal bitch. Unfortunately, we had a show in two days. I couldn't ignore her, as much as I wanted to.

I tapped the microphone button on the app and said, "Come on up, Sloane." Another tap, and I unlocked the door. I heard the whir of the elevator a few seconds later. Rising from my desk, I met her at the door. I wanted to head her off so she didn't wake Rosie.

"Sloane, Rosie's sleeping. Let's stay in the kitchen."

"Fine," she snapped, her dark eyebrows drawn together. "Why isn't Maggie watching her?"

"Because Rosie's my daughter, and Magnolia had other business to take care of today."

"You need to get a nanny, Vance. You have better things to do than take care of an infant."

"No, I don't," I said. "The most important thing I have to do right now is spend time with my daughter. Everything else comes second."

"Even Maggie?" Sloane asked, a sly smile on her face.

"Magnolia is none of your business," I said.

"I never would have sent her to you if I thought you'd end up fucking her. She held you off long enough, but I guess you got to her eventually. I shouldn't be surprised. I've heard you can talk a nun into spreading her legs."

"Sloane," I warned. She shrugged.

"Aren't you going to offer me coffee?" she asked.

"No. I'm slammed, and I want to get home. I thought everything was ready for the show. What do you want?"

"You don't need to get home, Vance. Youarehome. Don't let the baby and Maggie delude you. You're an artist. Playing house is fun for a while, but you can't sustain it long-term. You don't have it in you. It's not who you are."

I was rapidly losing patience. "You don't know anything about who I am, Sloane. Magnolia and Rosie aren't your concern."

"Wrong," she said, her eyes hard. "I couldn't care less about the baby, but when you fuck over Maggie, you're going to lose your business manager, which is going to disrupt your production. Thatismy concern."

"I'm not going to fuck over Magnolia," I said. Sloane rolled her eyes.

"Of course you are," she said, laughing a little. "When was the last time you slept with the same woman twice in a row? I've never known you to have a girlfriend. Now you move in with Maggie and think you're what, husband material? Be serious."

"Sloane, you have no clue what you're talking about. I'm not looking to be 'husband material'. I'm still trying to figure out how to be a father. We've got enough going on right now without you trying to complicate it."

"I'm not trying to complicate it, Vance," she said, and the sympathy in her eyes almost seemed genuine. "I'm trying to simplify it. All you should be worrying about is your art and your business. Fucking with Magnolia is going to fuck with your business. It's that simple. End it with her. Get a nanny. Or make her the nanny. I don't care. She's pretty much your nanny as it is now, anyway."

"She's not the nanny," I snapped, wondering for the first time if this was how everyone else saw it. Did the whole world assume I was just fucking Magnolia to get her to help me with Rosie? Is that why they were so curious about whether we were dating?

I shook my head. No way. Maybe Sloane thought that, and Brayden. But if my family thought I was using Magnolia, they would've kicked my ass already. And I knew Magnolia didn't believe that. I thought about the night before, the way she'd wiped tears from my face and welcomed me into her body. No, Magnolia knew this was about so much more than sex. And so did I. Sloane could go fuck herself.

"If you need to get laid . . ." Sloane said. Suggestion dripped from her words as she sauntered across the kitchen, not coming to a stop until she was so close her hips bumped mine. Too close.

From a distance, Sloane was gorgeous. Shiny black hair, green eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass, long legs, and round, high tits. She knew how to dress, with class and style, even if her hemlines were a little short and she showed too much cleavage. But up close?

Up close, the illusion fell apart.

Her tits were fake, she was bony, and she wore way too much makeup. Not that I was tempted, but I'd always suspected she'd be a shitty fuck. Way too selfish and self-involved to relax and have fun.

"What are you doing Sloane?" I asked, taking a step to the side to put some space between us. I'd gotten used to the feel of Magnolia's soft, round body pressed to mine. Sloane was a gnawed-on bone in comparison.