Dance for the Billionaire(38)
“I try to keep a low profile—I don’t own the private jets or the dozens of luxury cars most of my friends do. I never wanted my lifestyle to impact on my parents’ or my brothers’ and sisters’, but they still get harassed sometimes.” He stroked the smooth skin on the tops of her hands with his thumbs in a hypnotic, soothing manner. “When the news gets out that we’re dating, the press will fall over themselves to be the first to dig up any dirt on you. Your parents’ story would make a good headline for a tabloid newspaper.”
“It happened more than ten years ago. How would they?” Chantelle’s voice was more hopeful than convinced. She knew all it took was them finding the right person.
“Your parent’s friends, or their neighbors, or the young man’s parents—you’d be surprised what people say and do for money or the chance to be quoted in the news. Your father and his lover may have struggled financially after uprooting themselves and moving to another part of the country. They may need the money. They would be paid well for an exclusive story. Even if they are now separated, either or both of them could make money from telling their story.”
“I would prefer them not to print the story,” Chantelle admitted. “Shawn and Cerise know what happened, but we’ve never told Charmine, so she thinks that Dad’s her father, too. If the story came out I would explain to her…I think she’d be fine. And,” she continued with a hint of defiance, “my father is not the first gay man to father children nor is my mother the first alcoholic!”
“I have several contacts in the media. If I get wind of the story before it broke, I will do my best to suppress it,” he promised. “But we have to expect the worst case scenario.”
“I know.”
He cleared his throat before continuing, “They may also print stories of my previous relationships.”
“I think most of them are mentioned on your Wiki page. Black, white, Chinese, Indian…they’re like a rainbow coalition! Do you actually have a type?”
“Beauty for me isn’t defined by race. It’s the way my body responds to a woman that matters to me. ” He squeezed her fingers again and she tensed, waiting for his next revelation. “I’ve remained friends with many of them and they can be enthusiastic in their greetings when we meet. You have to take my word that I’m not sleeping with any of them. I won’t shun a woman who once shared my bed.”
“Provided you don’t expect me to stand meekly beside you while some woman tries to suck your face off!”
“They’re much more subtle than that,” he assured her. “I’m eager to take you to my little island and see your reaction. Some of my friends have unusual tastes and desires. I don’t judge anything they do, once it’s legal. A few are bi-sexual, even gay I suspect, but publicly they date women to keep up appearances. I have no interest in other men. I don’t even indulge in anal—”
“Well thank God!” Chantelle said with feeling. “I thought we’d have a huge fight over that!”
“You have a very pretty ass, but you can rest assured I have no interest in fucking it.” He smacked the left cheek of her behind playfully. “Though, you may have to dress in school uniform and be spanked by a sexy headmaster who looks remarkably like me.”
Instead of feeling scandalized as she may have been mere months ago, Chantelle laughed and asked tartly, “Doctor, headmaster—how many professions do you practice?”
“I’ve been pastor, pilot, plumber…Prince Charles, The Rock—”
“Prince Charles?” Chantelle almost fell over in astonishment.
“I’ll have you know some women find me quite sexy.” Dominic’s delivery of the Prince’s aristocratic tones was flawless. Chantelle clutched her stomach and slid to the floor laughing. She almost expired when he continued, “Should one call Rogers to assist you up, my dear?”
“Stop. My stomach hurts,” she protested. “Please don’t make me laugh anymore!”
“You don’t laugh enough.” He pulled her to her feet and slid his finger under the top button of her denim dress and expertly popped it open before moving to the other. “When Rogers showed you in today, I thought you were going to tell me that you wanted to end the relationship.”
“Wait!” She stilled his hands and locked gazes with him. “If I walked away from us, I know I would regret it for the rest of my life, so I’m going to give us a chance and see where life takes us. All I ask that you be honest with me.” Chantelle stepped out of his reach, picked up the remote control from the side of his bed that looked like something out of a Sci-Fi novel and pointed it at a small glass-fronted panel in the wall. He patiently let her fumble her way around the unfamiliar menu until she found what she wanted. “I want you to listen to this song which pretty much sums up my feelings.”