Boxed Set: Dominated by a Billionaire - Part 10-12: Irresistible Billionaire (7 page)

"We can talk about the first name again, if you want," he whispers in my ear.

"I think I like Volodia just fine… It’s strong and gentle at the same time."

"Like us," he says smiling.

"But I’m warning you, King, you’d better be there when he’s born. From the beginning to the end!"

"I wouldn’t miss it for the world," he says in his deep, warm voice, holding me tighter against him.

You + Me + Him: that’s the dream of my life.

I delight in the peace and quiet, in the feeling of absolute fulfillment, until the midwife allows us a short visit with the happy parents.

"We’d like you to meet our son," Clémentine whispers, so as not to wake her little sleeping baby.

"A boy!" I sniff, coming closer, full of emotion.

"He’s magnificent," Vadim marvels, tilting his head, with a huge smile on his lips.

"We’ve just come to an agreement: his name is Clovis," my best friend quietly announces.

"Clovis Léo Clint," the happy father adds, kissing Clémentine on the top of her head.

I cry even more. Clémentine glows.

If only she could see her hair…

There's Lily, Niels, Basile and I: the whole gang is together to celebrate the birth of little Clovis and Clémentine’s return home. The young mother, in tip-top shape, spent two days making life hell for the entire maternity ward. Every hour, she pressed the little emergency button next to her bed, asking if she could go home with her baby. And when no one paid any attention to her, she started yelling that she was being held hostage, even though she was neither sick nor crazy. The volcanic redhead won.

How could it have been any other way?

Clarence greets us at the apartment, looking tired but with a blissful smile. We find Clem, comfortably settled on the couch with her son, dressed in a bright orange romper, propped up against her shoulder. She's got a half-empty bottle in her hand.

"Look at this," she says loudly, not remotely concerned about waking him up. "I gave birth to a groundhog! This baby sleeps all the time, I don’t even have time to feed him before he starts snoring again."

"I think he inherited my calm gene," Clarence teases, full of pride.

"You mean your sluggish gene?" My best friend snaps back, raising her voice. Did you notice that I can yell at Clarence as much as I want, and he doesn't even wake up!"

"I taught him everything he knows! My son is three days old and he already knows how to ignore women who bitch all the time. Way to go, Clint!" he adds, placing a kiss on the baby’s tiny hand.

"If you call him that one more time, I’m going to live at Alma’s and I’ll leave you alone here with four kids!" Clémentine threatens, laughing.

"Where are the other three?" I ask, noticing the surprisingly low noise level.

"Clarence’s son is at his mother’s, the twins with their father. He’s taking care of them while we get settled in here. But they are already Clovis fans! They talk about him all the time and want us to buy them a black doll!"

"Oh, that's so cute, the little Benetton family!" Niels raves. "If you keep it up, you’ll do better than Brad and Angelina!"

"Thanks but no thanks!" the young parents answer in unison, looking at each other lovingly.

"So, do we have to wait for 'Vadim, the king of pains in the neck' or can we open the presents?" Basile says impatiently, giving me his asinine smile.

Vadim told me he’d meet me straight here, I have no idea why he’s late. He was talking to Adrian when I left the office, and I didn’t want to disturb him.

Grrr… That new pale suit he was wearing… I would have gladly disturbed him for something else.

Niels – clumsy but thrilled – holds the baby while Lily and Clémentine unwrap the presents, letting out screams of joy and silly giggles: bibs embroidered with his name, adorable little basketball shoes, gigantic stuffed animals and unaffordable, newborn size designer clothes. My brother can’t help making a disgusted face seeing Clovis spitting milk on his partner’s dark blue polo shirt. When the tall blond notices, he holds the newborn baby at arm’s length, as far away as possible, screaming for help. Clarence, cracking up, comes to his rescue and takes back his son. Vadim finally shows up amidst the general chaos, a mix of great joy and noisy mishaps.

He fits right into the party, and gives the new mother a huge bouquet of flowers, and the father a bottle of Dom Pérignon. The baby gets a sort of next-generation walkie-talkie that works as both audio and video surveillance, as well as a musical night-light and motion detector. I don’t understand a thing except that I have the most marvelous man on earth.

But his face darkens when he takes me aside to announce his news – good and bad, obviously.

"Keith is back behind bars. My lawyers didn’t even have to do anything: he screwed up while he was still on probation and so, back to jail for him."

"Great, you must be relieved," I say, slipping my roaming hands around his waist, under his jacket.

It’s that suit, again…

"Don’t you want to hear the bad news?" Vadim asks me, holding my face in his hands.

"No, don't ruin everything. I want to hear my friends laugh and squabble, watch the baby sleep like an angel, then take you somewhere where I can take that damn suit off you."

"Oh, you don’t like linen?" he teases, giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

I want more!

"It’s about Lily, my dark hunk goes on, looking at my sister. I think it’s better she finds out as soon as possible."

"Finds out what?" I ask, suddenly worried.

"Nothing serious but you were right. About her man, Alec Deroy…"

"Oh, I think you owe me a giant poster on the Eiffel Tower! So, another bad boy, huh?"

"No, just a little jerk of a reporter who used her to get close to me. To get info about Keith, my past and everything. Adrian had him followed; he works for a celebrity magazine."

"Oh, no, poor Lily."

We leave Clémentine and Clarence to enjoy their newfound happiness. Niels and Basile slip away quickly to go to another party, Vadim and I offer to drive my sister home. In the car, outside her place, my Russian tackles the job of telling her the truth about her “not exactly charming prince.” I stand ready to leap to the backseat to console her, but I don't get the chance. She opens the car door and gets out, shouting at us:

"Aren’t you sick of ruining my life? First Felix, now Alec! I'll never be able hold onto a guy for more than three months – because of you!"

"You’ll be able to when you meet the right one, Lil’!" I say, trying to calm her down.

"Keep your advice to yourself! And leave a little love for the rest of us, damn it!" she screams. She violently slams the door and makes her getaway.

"That went well, huh?" my lover says sarcastically, starting the car up.

"Yeah, well, I’d rather see her angry than crying. Let’s go home, I want to take my nerves out on that suit of yours."

The end of the workweek goes by in a flurry of excitement. Between all the projects we're wrapping up and organizing the big annual King Prod party, everyone feels like they’ve grown wings. On Saturday June the 7th, we will celebrate the creation of the company, as well as the founder’s 33rd birthday. Vadim doesn’t give a damn about his birthday – He wouldn't even let me give him a present when we were twenty – but he agreed to this event as a reward for all his co-workers' hard work. And my King has gone all out: a gorgeous manor just an hour and a half from Paris, group transport by limousine and accommodation provided for all guests who can spend the night and enjoy the premises through Sunday afternoon. A dream weekend on the horizon.

When we enter the huge estate in the heart of Normandy, “oohs” and “aahs” ring out in the limousine. There's Sophie – in her Sunday best, Akiko – reserved but with eyes gleaming, Bertrand – who tries to guess the number of acres, Alistair – who can’t help noticing what a wonderful place it would make for a wedding, Sofia – who agrees, giggling, and Vadim – who just smiles and strokes my hand. As everyone's “other half” has been invited, I have to put up with Kali’s sly glances. My brother and sister are in another car – Basile with his favorite tall blond, Lily with her favorite bad mood.

She’s still mad at us, but she didn’t go so far as refusing tonight’s invitation.

She’s not stupid!

Clémentine and Clarence will come a little later with Clovis. After a moment of hesitation, they decided they couldn’t miss the party and that they’d come with their week-old baby: Vadim reserved a spacious room for them, away from the noise, and hired an over-qualified nanny especially for them. His thoughtfulness really touched them and probably likely had something to do with convincing them in the end.

But I'm sure the mother wolf will check on her little baby boy every half hour.

Cocktails are served outside, under white gazebos marked with the golden King Production logo. Champagne flows freely, hors-d’oeuvres sail past on trays held by elegant young waiters, brisk conversation and laughing mingle. The June sun shines out over the acres of tree-laden grounds and finally sets. The guests are requested to join the manor’s huge, elegantly and tastefully decorated reception hall. Halfway through dinner, the big boss goes up on stage and takes the mike to give an improvised speech. In his lovely deep voice, he thanks everyone, jokes, teases, says a special word to several people and sends long, insistent glances in my direction. He returns to his seat beside me, accompanied by big rounds of applause.

While the guests dig into the endless dessert buffet, I grab my lover's hand and take him aside. He snatches a little colorful treat from the buffet on the way and follows me into the maze of staircases. I open the door I'm looking for and push him into the “royal suite.”

"I think this is our room," I grin, looking him straight in the eye.

"And I don’t think the party is over yet, you greedy little woman."

He slips a rose macaroon between my lips; I bite off half of it and he swallows the other half before kissing me on the corner of my mouth.

"It’s your birthday, Mr. King, let yourself go!" I murmur, pushing him down onto the big bed.

I back up a few steps, slip the straps of my dress down and let it drop to my feet. Vadim’s eyes light up when he sees the big white satin ribbon draped around my breasts, my stomach and my hips. In silver letters, the inscription “Happy Birthday Mr. King” runs along the satiny fabric and triggers my lover’s eager smile.

"Since I’m not allowed to give you presents… I’m giving myself to you," I say playfully, strutting before his eyes.

"Hmm… And when will I be able to unwrap such a pretty present?" he asks, seriously, raising an eyebrow.

"You have guests. It wouldn’t be very polite to abandon them," I continue, leaning down to entice him.

"After all, I’m the king of the party!" he sighs, leaping up to sensuously pull on the ribbon’s bow.

Too easy!

What’s nice about Vadim’s birthday is that, in a way, it is also mine…

An hour later, we nonchalantly reappear. None of my colleagues seem to have noticed our absence: they are all crammed onto the dance floor set up in another part of the reception hall. Thanks to music and champagne, the departments have mixed, the “bosses” and the employees have forgotten about who’s in charge and improvise wild choreographies. Even Lily doesn’t seem to remember why she was mad when she got here tonight. Unlikely couples get together in dark corners, under the amused eyes of the gossip kings – alias Clarence and Sophie, while Kali undulates in a very sensual dance, i.e., out of place and totally inappropriate.

When the clock strikes midnight, my CEO – still impeccable in his summer suit, despite our torrid break – asks everyone to come together on the big balcony on the first floor. I have no idea what’s supposed to happen next, but I’m sort of no longer surprised by the capers he is so good at pulling off. With Vadim King, there's never just one highlight of the show.

I follow the little lively crowd up the staircase, find a spot on the terrace overlooking the huge grounds, and lean backwards over the wide old stone railing. Other than a few stars twinkling over our heads, the manor is plunged in darkness. An out-of-breath Clémentine meets up with me, followed by Lily, who is slightly tipsy. Then Niels and Basile, both awestruck. Then come Sophie and her husband. And lastly Alistair without Kali.

What more can you ask for?

Oh, yeah, my man!

There’s a thud, and everyone is suddenly quiet. A blinding light colors the sky bright orange. Squinting, I turn back around to see, down below, four giant letters on fire: ALMA. My heart explodes in my chest. I look around for Vadim. Ten seconds later, a second noise. A second row lights up with fire. In huge, burning, fiery letters: YOU + ME. I can’t swallow. Tears fill my eyes. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.

My close friends and family with their excited smiles step aside to let Vadim through. He plunges his gray eyes into mine and grabs my hand gently. I panic. In his eyes, I see that fragile look he sometimes gets, very rarely, and only with me. There in front of about one hundred guests, he seems ready to bare his soul. I don’t understand. Or I don’t want to understand. Very slowly, with his eyes glued to me, my lover leans forward and puts a knee on the ground. I understand. But I don’t fully comprehend. The balcony seems to come out from under my feet. I hang onto the soft, manly hand that is holding me up.

"Alma… I think I knew it the first day I saw you. Twelve years ago in a little classroom at film school. You were my total opposite. You didn’t dare look at me, and that’s all I did. The first time we talked, we spent an hour yelling at each other. That day, I said to myself that you were the most beautiful person I had ever met and that I could spend my life doing just those two things: looking at you and fighting with you.

Laughing in the audience.

Tears in my eyes.

"I love you. I feel like I have always loved you. And I’m sure that I will never be able to stop. So I’m not going to ask you the question because you know that I do what I want anyway, because there’s only one answer for me and because, basically, you have no choice. I can’t live without you and I can’t imagine losing you a second time. Alma Lancaster, marry me."