The Billionaire's Promise (BDSM Erotic Romance) (His Submissive, Part Eight) (8 page)

Whitmore and Creighton knew how to
put on a party. The jazz band lowered their volume, drawing attention to the small stage off to the side. Missy slipped up to the forefront, dressed in her usual fierce all black get up, but her hair hung in soft, carefree waves around her face. She ruffled her locks demurely before speaking.

“I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for stepping away from their desks and sticking around to unwind with us. Enjoy!”

Everyone gave her a polite round of applause and she sauntered off to a cluster of white lounge chaises in the corner. It was clear, even now, that there was the hierarchy and she was in the VIP section. When I narrowed my gaze, I saw Rachel sitting in the center, dressed in a ruby red dress that was a dead ringer for the one I wore to the restaurant in Venice when I cut her dinner with Jacob short.

I remembered Missy’s sudden befriending of me and frowned in anger. Was she Rachel’s spy? I knew there had to be a catch.

Rachel brought the rim of her glass to her lips and gave me a look that said ‘buckle up’.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Elle said dreamily beside me.

“Who?” I asked glumly, even though I was about a hundred percent sure she was talking about the permanent pain in my ass.

“Rachel Laraby
,” Elle said excitedly. I’ve seen every movie of hers. She’s incredible.”

I grunted a reply. As horrible as Rachel was in real life, I couldn’t deny that she had some acting chops. Even though her la
st film about a waitress who had an affair with a writer was a massive flop, I’d seen clips. The woman knew how to immerse herself in characters, drawing you into her world.

When she rose from the couch, tossing me a wink, I finished my wine with a massive gulp and yanked a second from a server making the rounds.

“Oh my god...she’s coming over here!” Elle squealed with glee.

“Joy,” I muttered, not even attempting to hide the fact that I was decidedly on the other end of the spectrum. Elle gave me a w
eird look but it dissipated as Rachel glided toward us, everyone dutifully parting like the Red Sea.

“Leila!” she said with faux cheeriness, her teeth glittering lik
e fangs. “Don’t you look lovely!”

From the way her green eyes inched over me like I was caked in poo, I knew I’d chosen the perfect dress this morning. I knew Rachel’s tell--a
nd she was trying way too hard.

“Ms. Laraby!” Elle said breathlessly, in awe of her. “I’m such a big--”

“That’s nice,” Rachel cut in, widening her phony smile. She held up her empty glass. “I’m absolutely parched.”

Elle gobbled up the bait, hook, line and sinker. “I’ll get you another.” She flitted away, probably off to personally crush the grapes.

Rachel dropped the act. “Where’s Jacob?”

“You’re the stalker--you tell me.”

Rachel let out a throaty chuckle. “Funny...I’ll tell you who wasn’t laughing--Jacob’s mother when I told her that her son’s new girlfriend signed a contract surrendering herself for his pleasure.” Her eyes hardened. “Guess who didn’t have to become a submissive to get his love?”

I could have made a scene. There were all sorts of furniture perfect for chunking at her and a perfectly go
od railing I could toss her over, but she was showing her hand. She was boiling, teetering on the edge of the cliff and she’d fall without me lifting a finger.

“You’re right, Rachel. When Jacob and I started out, our relationship was a sexual one. Guilty as charged.” I took a sip of my wine, the fruity bite reminding me that every second I wasted talking to Rachel was a second I’d never get back. “I’m gonna go mingle. You keep on pouting.”

“Just where do you think you’re--”

A hush rippled over the crowd and Rachel and I both turned our attention to the stage. Jacob was s
tanding in front of the band, undeniably handsome as he leaned in to say something to one of the musicians.

When I heard the firs
t notes of Etta James’ “At Last”, my heart stopped.

This isn’t...Jacob is NOT...

He held out his hand toward me, his lips curved into a delicious grin. My mind went blank and I knew he was asking me to come up, but walking was suddenly this new-fangled thing I’d never done. I had to remember to breathe, struggling to put one foot before the other.

Somehow I made my way to him, my head spinning as he took my hands in his. I
knew what was coming but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. All I knew for sure was that I wasn’t breathing. Jacob was about to do something monumental and I was gonna pass out right there.

And then he dropped to one knee.

Gasps and ‘Oh my God!’s echoed around us, but all I heard was his question.

“Leila Montgomery--will you marry me?”

I promise you, I’ll never love anyone else. Can you handle that, Leila? Can you give me forever?

I felt the tears stream down my face as the notes swelled. “Yes!”

###

Thank you for taking the time to read The Billionaire’s Promise. Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, A.C.

Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and searching for her own brooding billionaire.

Stay tuned to Ava’s blog for more info on new releases!

http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com