The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(114)

Space was also made for Charlie’s geekalicious four-eyed friend. Caroline’s curvaceous body was poured into black leather pants and a sparkly top. The pants made Rebecca jealous—because they allowed the girl to wear flats. Caroline carried an overnight bag and a rather beefy looking small laptop.

“Studying for a final,” the redhead said when she noticed Rebecca’s attention to the computer. “I took summer session over the break.”

Studying on a date didn’t seem right to her, but if Charlie didn’t mind her preoccupation, Rebecca had no business getting upset on his behalf. The girl did take a moment to admire Charlie’s James Bond-ish attire as he took the seat next to her. Pete sat in the same grouping of chairs with them, so she guessed the outing wasn’t meant to be romantic. Then again, what did she know about romance for college kids?

They landed after a brief flight. A private car service picked them up. Inside the tricked-out limo van, Zane and Trey went into mogul mode. Neither made less than a dozen calls, touching base and schmoozing.

“You’re letting people know we’re here,” she said when they finally stopped.

“Here and kicking,” Zane confirmed. “Our associates in Manhattan need to know we’re doing business as usual.”

“Will they be at the fundraiser?”

“Some of them.”

Trey was sitting next to her, with Zane on his other side. Sensing her nervousness, he took her hand. “We show up. We drink. We dance. We write a big check for charity. We act like what we are to each other is perfectly normal.”

“What if I screw up?”

“You can’t,” Zane said. “You look too damn delectable to be anything but an asset.”

Rebecca hoped cleaning up well was all tonight would require of her.

Trey saw her skepticism. “We won’t leave you on your own. One of us will be with you at all times.”

“You don’t have to go that far.”

“We do. The more people see us together, the more they’ll understand there’s more to us than Showergate. We’re serious about each other.”

Rebecca snuck at look at Zane. He didn’t bat an eye at Trey’s claim. She knew he’d heard it. He wasn’t murmuring in his phone. He was slipping that into his tuxedo jacket’s inside pocket.

“We’re serious,” he agreed and straightened his black bowtie. He and Trey were so stunning in formal wear she had trouble thinking straight. She definitely couldn’t afford to dwell on them finding each other stunning too. Her knees wobbled badly enough in these dressy heels.

“You’re not nervous,” she said.

Zane’s sensual lips curved in an amused smile. “I seem to have gotten over that. Maybe all I needed was something to fight against.”

She supposed that would light a fire under a competitive man like him. She wished she had a cure for her nerves. She was serious too. About Zane and Trey. About building some sort of future together. The fact that it was some sort was what threw her. She wanted the men forever, and she wanted a guarantee. Knowing nobody got that couldn’t squelch her wish for one.

Trey leaned over to kiss her cheek. “This isn’t life and death, Rebecca. We get through tonight, and we tackle tomorrow when it comes.”

“Right,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. When Zane reached sideways to grip it too, she actually did feel better.

~

Zane was better at hiding his nerves than Rebecca realized. He hadn’t lied about feeling ready to be a threesome in public, but he had trickier irons in the fire tonight. He hoped he wasn’t crazy for letting her brothers talk him into Operation Blue Velvet.

Naturally, they hadn’t heeded his request to leave Missy to him and Trey.

In the confusion of the scandal breaking, Zane had shoved Owens’ confiscated laptop onto a shelf in the library. The boys had found it, read Owens’ name on the case, and decided to take a peek. A phone call to Charlie’s brainiac red-haired friend enabled them to crack Owens’ apparently pathetic security, whereupon they discovered the dismissed chauffeur had a long-term fondness for filmmaking.

Their plan for exploiting that was one Zane might have devised in his college days.

Too smart to propose the plot to Rebecca, the boys had come to him.

“It’s the nuclear principle,” Pete had said with frightening reasonableness. “We’ve got a bomb, and the swimsuit hanger doesn’t. If we want her to stop taking jabs at you and Trey and Rebecca, we have to demonstrate we’re willing and able to use it.”

“Plus, Mystique going after you is the reason the bomb exists,” Charlie said. “It’s poetic justice. We’d be silly to feel guilty.”