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How (Not) To Be Seduced By Billionaires (Books 1-3)(29)

By:Marian Tee


I shook my head. Just the thought of gatecrashing  –  and putting myself  out there for Constantijin to humiliate  –  had me hyperventilating.

Daria bent forward, her eyes narrowing. "Yanna, I can see you panicking from here."

If that was true, then she had better eyesight than Clark Kent since  Daria had her iPad positioned somewhat far away from her. I could  practically see the entire bed she was seated cross-legged on, which was  so enormous it could probably fit an entire football squad.

From Daria's side of the screen, I heard something popping in the  background, followed by the clink of glass and then the Greek-accented  tone of Daria's tycoon hubby. "Why is Yanna panicking?" Nik asked as he  came into view, wearing an unbuttoned white polo shirt and jeans. Tall,  dark, gorgeous and an alpha male to the core, he used to be the world's  greatest jerk. Even I hated him, and it took a lot for me to say the  H-word. A misunderstanding had caused Nik to mistake Daria for a  gold-digging nymphomaniac and he had treated her like shit. Thankfully,  true love  –  and a good dose of truth - had reformed him, and there was  no doubting that when you looked at how Nik acted around his wife these  days.

Taking a seat next to Daria on their bed, Nik handed her a glass of champagne and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

For a moment, I had to close my eyes, not wanting my friends to see how  totally envious I suddenly felt about the closeness between the  months-old married couple.

I made myself look at them when Nik spoke again. "Hi, Alyx, Yanna."

Alyx flashed him a thumbs-up sign. "Hey, Nik. So how many is it for today?"

Daria groaned, Nik grinned, and I frowned in complete confusion. "How many what?"         

     



 

"Seven," Nik answered, his grin widening.

Daria groaned again.

"Seven what?" I demanded.

Alyx said patiently, "Seven orgasms for Daria today."

This time, I joined Daria with the groaning. "Really, Alyx? You really had to ask him that?"

"I was just curious! Daria used to hate---"

"Oh, look, Constantijin's date is totally raping him on TV!" Daria burst out.

We all looked, and even though I hoped it was just her way of changing the subject  –  it wasn't.

My chest hurt more and more as I continued watching Constantijin's date  –   surprise, surprise, yet another blonde bimbo  –  grind her lips on his.  Those lips were mine! Or at least they had been a few days ago. More  seconds passed, and the camera continued to focus on their liplock.

Seriously, when had lifestyle shows become an extension of Playboy  Channel? Couldn't they see that her hand was just inches away from  grasping his---

In a smooth move, Constantijin had forced his date to release him the same time he subtly slapped her hand away.

"Slut," I growled.

"Who?" Alyx asked innocently as she rubbed more cream on her forehead.  Her face was now 25% flesh, 75% blue goo. "Constantijin or his date?"

"Both!"

"Yanna, stop jumping. You're giving me a headache." Daria turned to Nik.  "What do you think? You know how Yanna dumped Constantijin for her Mr.  Fix It, right?"

"I did not dump him." I tightened the sash of my night robe, wishing it was a noose around Constantijin's neck.

"Why do you call the boy Mr. Fix It?" Nik asked at the same time.

"He's not a boy," I groaned. God! Sometimes, Nik was too much like Constantijin I almost didn't want to talk to him.

"Because he keeps appearing at the right time and place to play knight in shining armor for Yanna," Daria explained.

"Ah."

"That doesn't sound like a good ;ah'," I said with a scowl.

"Because it isn't," Nik answered readily. As he scooped Daria onto his  lap, he continued, "I know how Kastein feels, Yanna. If there's one  thing men like me can be uncomfortable about---"

"He means insecure," his wife added.

"---then it would be boys who are a lot nicer than we could ever be.  That's one thing we can't really beat and if you chose Mr. Fix It over  him that time, who's to say you won't do it again when he screws up the  next time?"

"But it wasn't like that," I protested. "I didn't choose Mr. Fix---I  mean Drake---over him. I just thought it was a good idea to leave with  Drake so that no one's going to be suspicious about us."

"And that's one more thing," Nik said triumphantly.

Alyx smirked. "Why do I have a feeling that billionaires with the same arrogant feathers stick together?"

But Nik only smirked back. "Alyx, Alyx," he purred in a voice so  seductive it made me squirm uncomfortably. This was my first glimpse of  how, err, attractive Nik could be if he really put his mind to it.

"Everything about you tells me that when it's your turn to fall in love,  you'll have the hardest time. You'll choose a billionaire who's even a  bigger jerk than I was  –  or even more than Kastein."

Alyx lifted her chin. "You wish."

Daria cleared her throat. "Okay, break it up, you guys. We do not want  you two losing sleep again on another endless WiFi rematch of Wii  Boxing."

Seeing Daria's meaningful gaze on me, I did my referee bit as well,  adding, "And tonight's video call is all about me, right?" As soon as  the words came out, a wave of depression hit me, and my voice trailed  off.

This call was about me because  –  frankly  –  I was at the end of my  tether. It was terrifying, the way I couldn't stop thinking about him,  the way I couldn't stop hurting with every second that Constantijin  wasn't next to me.

"Yanna." Nik sounded sober.

I managed a smile. "Yeah?"

"The other thing I was telling you about---well, we can't handle being  kept as a secret. That's why men make poor mistresses." He grimaced.  "You probably made him feel you were ashamed---"

"Ashamed of what? Him?" I pointed at the screen, which was still on  Constantijin since it was an hour-long coverage on the show's top picks  for the sexiest men on the planet.

The TV showed a shot of him in a fashion event last winter. His golden  copper-tinted hair was slightly longer than usual, with a rearview shot  of Constantijin revealing how his curls brushed past his snowy-white  scarf. His beautifully fit black trench coat made his shoulders appear  even broader and was an exquisite contrast to the light pink shade of  his shirt and gray pants.         

     



 

He was unbelievably beautiful, and the fact that he had been mine  –  even briefly  –  made it hard for me to breathe.

"Yes, Yanna, he could have thought that. Kastein isn't perfect  –  no one  is. We all have our secrets. Flaws. Weaknesses  –  and you could be one of  them."

Chewing on my lip, I slowly asked, "Are you saying I should really gatecrash the fundraiser?"

Nik glanced at Daria and a smile immediately appeared on her face.

"Yuck," Alyx muttered. "They're communicating silently."

Ignoring that, Daria told me, "Yanna, baby, this is one of those times  you should be happy you have an arrogant billionaire as one of your  friends."

~~~

I'm not gatecrashing. I repeated the words in my mind over and over, but  they weren't enough to dispel the anxiety squeezing my chest as I  stammered my name.

The man in a tux flipped a couple of pages. "Right. Ticket please?"

A couple of other guests walked past me as I took out the glossy piece  of paper that had cost Nik two thousand dollars to purchase. I guess  their face value was a lot higher than mine. Honestly, the admission  price for Erik Kastein's fundraiser astounded me. In fact, it made me  want to back out, but Nik had gone on to buy it, saying that it was for a  good cause anyway.

The security officer scanned my ticket before looking back at me with a  respectful smile. "Thank you, Ms. Everleigh. Enjoy your night."

He pressed a button that had the tinted glass doors sliding open. I  stepped in and found myself in a strange glittering world. So this was  how the rich and famous partied.

In my mind, fundraisers were colorless and boring, occasions where you  weren't supposed to show your teeth when you smiled. But this fundraiser   –  it was out of this world, or maybe the Kasteins just really knew how  to throw a good party.

Constantijin's father had booked an entire museum for his fundraiser and  transformed it into some kind of black-and-white paradise. The walls  were covered with black-and-white striped velvet while the floor  sparkled like pearls. On one side, the black-glass buffet table was  illuminated from below, making it seem as if the rows of cocktail dishes  were floating on a sea of gold and onyx.

Everywhere around me were Kens and Barbies of all shapes and sizes. They  could be size 1 to 10, but they still seemed perfect in a shiny, waxy  kind of way  –  if I bumped into any one of them, I was afraid they'd  shatter.