Enticing You (How to Marry a Billionaire #1)

Episode 39

EPISODE 39

SEBASTIAN AND HEATHER’S DATE, PART TWO

Sebastian

I cock my head after Heather tells me that June told her some “unusual stuff.”

Heather’s eyes are wide and her lips are trembling while she massages the palm of her hand with her thumb. She seems truly worried about June.

I call the house from my satellite phone.

“Yes?” a male voice says.

“Hey, it’s Sebastian. Could you check on June for me?”

“Sure thing. I think she’s out on the deck with Ms. Kensington. Give me a minute. Do you want to talk to her?”

“You want to talk to her?” I ask Heather.

She nods. “If you don’t mind.”

I hand her the phone.

A few seconds later. “June? Hey. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. You okay?”

Pause.

Heather twists her lips, nibbling on the lower. “I know. It’s pretty freaky, but she’s going to be okay.”

Pause.

“You’re welcome. I was just worried…you know…in light of what you said earlier…”

Exactly what did June tell Heather earlier?

I’m concerned about June because she was the other woman mentioned in Misty’s email to Evangeline. And now I’m hoping Heather knows more about that than I do.

Heather ends the call and hands the phone back to me. “Thanks.”

“She’s okay, then?”

“She sounds okay. She and Emily are having dinner together, and then they plan to hit the hot tub.”

Heather’s furrowed brows suggest she’s not buying that June’s okay.

“What did she tell you that was so unusual?”

“It’s…” She bites her full lower lip. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can you tell me if it involves Misty Holmes?”

Heather’s eyes pop open. “How did you know?”

“Just a feeling,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “June told me a secret about her and Misty.”

“About the threesome?”

Nicely done, Seb . “Yeah. I mean, she and I were together on the boat. She mentioned a threesome with Misty and a basketball player.”

“Right.” Heather shakes her head. “Something’s off about Misty, Sebastian.”

You think? But I keep my cool.

“The girls and I were just wondering why a hotel heiress wants to catch a billionaire husband.”

I’ve had the same thought, but there’s no need to voice it. Yeah, Heather’s concerned about something.

“Heather,” I press, “what’s bothering you?”

She takes a sip of her Cava. “I’m not sure I should say anything.”

“All right. I understand.”

I’ll play it cool. She wants to talk, but if I prod her, she won’t.

“Thank you. I’m not sure June would want me to say any more.”

“I get it. But if you need someone to talk to”—I squeeze her hand—“please know that you can trust me. And so can June.”

She smiles then, her lips trembling. Only slightly, but I notice. “June speaks highly of your…prowess.”

I raise my eyebrows. “On the boat, I assume?”

“Yeah. She was very…satisfied.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Slapping the model’s firm ass isn’t something I’ll forget anytime soon.

Bart returns with a bottle of Chardonnay and my bourbon. He uncorks the wine, pours a bit in a glass, and sets it in front of Heather.

She swirls it and takes a sip. “Very good.”

“Excellent.” He fills the glass halfway. “Your dinners will be out in a few more minutes.”

I bring the glass of bourbon to my lips and take a drink. Heather’s a talker—even though she doesn’t think she should reveal what June said. I want to keep her talking.

“So…you and June both live in California. Have you run into her before?”

“No.” She takes another sip of her Chardonnay. “I actually don’t know her very well. She and I talked a little before you guys arrived. I mean, we were here along with Evangeline and the staff, so we all chatted. But it wasn’t until last night that she told me about the threesome.”

“I imagine that’s kind of private.” I swirl my bourbon in the glass.

“Oh, hell,” Heather continues. “I shouldn’t talk, but June didn’t ask me to keep any kind of confidence.” She sets her wine glass down and looks me straight in the eyes. “According to June, Misty doesn’t like competition for men. The NBA player—she didn’t tell me who it was—apparently was more into June than Misty. And Misty didn’t like that.”

Shocking.

But I keep my expression impassive.

“It happened after a Chloe’s Closet gala. June was one of the models, and Misty and the guy were guests. He had a suite at the venue, and…”

“One thing led to another?” I offer.

“Yeah. I guess. But June doesn’t remember how she got there. She says she recalls talking to the guy and to Misty…and the next thing she knows she’s entangled in a threesome with the two of them, with the guy’s dick in her pussy and Misty behind her, straddling her.”

My heart drops to my stomach. “So does she think one of them drugged her? Roofie, maybe?”

“She doesn’t know. She had a few drinks, so she could have just blacked out for an hour or so. She was freaked, of course, but what could she do? She was in the middle of sex, and the guy was hot and all over her, telling her how sexy she was, how much he wanted her. And he didn’t say anything like that to Misty.”

“That couldn't lead to anything good.”

“It ended, and they went their separate ways. June swears she doesn’t regret the actual deed, but she’s always wondered if Misty drugged her.”

“Why would she think it was Misty? It’s more likely it was the guy.”

“That’s what I said.” Heather shakes her head. “But now…after what happened to Rachel today… I mean, she was just snorkeling, minding her own business, and she stops breathing? Misty has made it clear she’s into River. She told Sienna, who told me. And Rachel was the first woman River took a liking to.”

What can I say? The thought already occurred to me. Misty told Evie she wanted Rachel and June out of the running, and now Rachel is gone.

Is June next? Does Misty think River is into June? Or is it some twisted payback for the basketball player preferring June? Or both? Or neither? Is Misty just a sociopath?

Fuck.

I squeeze Heather’s hand once more. “Rachel is going to be fine, thank God. She’s safe at the hospital, and then she and Ginger are going home.”

Bart returns with our dinners, but my appetite has gone on hiatus. My appetizer sits in front of me, hardly touched. Heather took a few bites of hers when Bart first served them but hasn’t touched it since she talked to June.

“Braised swordfish with a port wine reduction,” Bart says, “with purée of parsnip and spinach and steamed broccolini.”

“Thank you, Bart,” I say.

“You’re quite welcome.” He refills our waters and then leaves.

“You feel like eating?” I ask Heather.

She sighs. “It looks amazing. I love food as art. But no, I seem to have lost my appetite.”

“I have too.” I rise, remove my flip-flops, and cuff my jeans over my ankles. “Let’s take a walk. Maybe we’ll be hungry later.”

What I’d really like to do is warn River, but he’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. Misty may well be dangerous, though.

Heather stands, kicks off her flip-flops, and puts her hand in mine. We walk toward the ocean, the breeze drifting over us.

This date had promise. Things were going well until Heather decided to check in with June. Still, I like this woman. She’s uniquely beautiful, and she’s a fan. And her viper tattoo is hot as hell.

Plus…she’s a good soul. A good heart. She’s concerned about her friend.

We meander closer to the tide, and the wet sand squishes between our toes. I stop and turn to Heather. “What would you like to do?”

“Would you kiss me, Sebastian? I want to get my mind back where it needs to be.”

I pull her to me, brush my lips over hers, and slide my tongue between. She kisses me back, but it’s timid. Not at all what I expected from Heather.

She and Alex had a romp on the boat. I didn’t get a chance to ask him how it went, and Heather hasn’t volunteered any information. Of course, that all happened before we nearly lost Rachel.

She pulls back, her blue eyes wide.

Then—

“Oh, screw it.” She grabs me, pulls my head down, and crushes our mouths together.

Now this is a kiss. She devours me with her tongue, and I kiss her back, grabbing the back of her head and yanking on her hair. She groans into my mouth. As our lips collide, she reaches up and tangles her fingers in my hair, wrenching the band out and letting it float around my shoulders. A hint of desperation surrounds us as a symphony of ragged gasps floats off on the ocean breeze.

Emily may be a not-so-proper English rose, but Heather’s a siren. A vamp. Already I can tell she’ll be a tomcat in the sack.

I break the kiss with a loud smack and look into her wide blue eyes. “You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Sebastian,” she says, her voice a sexy rasp, “you read my fucking mind.”