The Playboy Billionaire (The Frazer Family #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

CALEB

“ E vening, Mr Frazer. Welcome back.”

I pause as the doorman opens the door and thank him as I pass.

The hotel lobby is a hive of activity, with guests checking in, others milling around, and some sitting on the vast sofas, drinking and chatting. Everything I’ve grown up to expect from a Frazer hotel. A grand chandelier that lights the foyer, reflecting off the marble walls and floors. Dark artwork is positioned to add contrast and depth. The private seating areas are welcoming and practical, opposite the reception desk.

I inhale and smile, the signature scent of the Frazer Hotels surrounding me. The zesty and vibrant bouquet transports me home. It’s the same scent my mother introduced years ago, and it’s still used worldwide. Hats off to Kat, my big sister, for the opulence and elegance—she knows what she’s doing.

“Evening, Mr Frazer. Can I get you anything?” the concierge asks me as I move to collect my key card.

“No, thank you, Annie,” I say .

It’s getting late. Jet lag may no longer be an issue, having been here for two weeks, but Jaxson wants to get the latest plans finalised and submitted as soon as possible, which means another early start.

Soft piano music drifts out of the bar area, drawing my attention. I collect my card and move towards the sound. Our dinner lasted longer than we expected, but we made progress. It’s also what happens when friends get together. And Jaxson has become that over the years. A friend. My brain is buzzing with the ideas we’ve thrown around tonight. Tomorrow’s meetings will be intense. One drink—better in company.

I’ve never been one to enjoy drinking alone, preferring my whiskey surrounded by others.

After taking my usual seat in the corner, the waitress brings me my order.

“Are you waiting for someone, Mr Frazer?” she asks, her interest clear.

“Not tonight,” I tell her honestly. “A drink before bed.”

I don’t miss the unspoken invitation she sends me as she places my drink on the table. I watch as she turns, the sway of her hips intentional as she walks away. I’ve never been shy when it comes to the opposite sex. A beautiful woman should be savoured like a fine wine. I look away, knowing I won’t be taking her up on her offer of company. Kat will have my balls in a vice if I mess around with any of her staff. It’s her one stipulation to all of us, but Kat always looks at me when she presses home that point.

A flash of blond catches my eye. Endless toned legs, killer red heels, and a black dress that accentuates every curve. My attention is fixed as I watch her navigate her way to the middle of the bar. I nurse my whiskey and watch her over the top of my glass. I guess she is a model by the graceful way she moves, but then again, how she’s pulling and tugging at her dress? No, definitely not a model. I smile and take a drink, enjoying the burn, but my attention is still focused on the newcomer. It appears she’d be more comfortable in leggings or jeans than in her current attire.

She takes a seat.

Before I know what I’m doing, I walk across the room to the bar, stopping beside her. She pauses, letting me know she’s aware of my presence, but makes no outward acknowledgement. The bartender delivers her order.

“Add it to my tab.”

“No… thank you.” Her tone is sharp as she turns towards me. My breath catches as deep blue eyes lock on mine, her gaze narrowing as she glares at me.

“Ah, a fellow Brit?” I say, ignoring her obvious annoyance, instead dropping onto the stool beside hers.

She raises one eyebrow and shoots me a glacial stare before returning her gaze to the bartender.

“Please tell the gentleman I’m not interested.”

He shoots me a look of panic, and I grin. He knows who I am, but it appears the little firecracker next to me doesn’t. This will be interesting.

Her pale cheeks develop a rosy glow when she takes in his expression.

“Never mind,” she says, swivelling her stool to face me. “Can I help you?”

I bite the inside of my mouth to stop myself from smirking. Her eyes flash fire, yet there is still no recognition.

She doesn’t know who I am.

I relax, and she folds her arms over her chest.

“I saw—” I don’t get any further before she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, please. You saw me across the room and just had to come across and introduce yourself?”

“Well…” For the first time ever, I’m at a loss for words .

She raises an eyebrow and rolls her hand as if urging me to say something.

“Go on then. What’s your best line?”

I cough, making her smirk.

The bartender drops his head, concentrating on the glass he’s been polishing repeatedly. When I look over, he moves to the far end of the bar.

I smile. “I don’t need lines.” Or at least I haven’t until now.

Usually, my face and name do the talking for me.

She looks me up and down before shaking her head, her lips tilting at the corners.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? I just bet you have all the women falling at your feet.”

I stare at the woman beside me, my heart rate picking up. I haven’t felt this excited about meeting someone in a while.

“So if I were to try a chat up line on a stranger in a bar, where should I start?” I ask, turning my stool to face her before leaning an elbow against the bar.

She purses her lips and lets out a breath. “Now that would be telling,” she says.

“How about I start with, hi, I’m Cal,” I say, holding out my hand.

She glances down, her head inclining.

“April,” she says, placing her small, delicate hand in mine, giving my hand a single shake before letting go.

I lean forward before whispering so only she can hear. “Well, April, I’m pleased to meet you because I’m sure you’ll be invading my dreams. As a wine connoisseur, which I can assure you I am, I can only imagine you taste like a fine wine…”

Her eyes widen at my words, her lips twisting as she tries hard to suppress her smile.

“Nothing about how I look?” she says, quirking one eyebrow .

“Now… I could say you look beautiful in that dress, but that’s not very original. I think I’ll go with your smile as my absolute favourite.”

Confusion crosses her brow, and I grin.

Realisation dawns, and I see her lips twitch at the corners.

“I knew it would be.”

I watch her eyes sparkle as she battles to contain the smile that threatens.

“Impossible,” she says, rolling her eyes before finally giving in. “Are you always this forward?”

Her smile steals my breath.

“Only when I’m in the company of a beautiful woman,” I tell her truthfully.

This earns me a groan.

“Too much?” I ask.

“Definitely.”

Only this time, her smile remains, her eyes twinkling.

My intrigue grows.

Who is this woman?

It’s been a long time since I spoke to anyone who isn’t in awe of my last name. Is it possible, or could this be an act?

“Are you drinking alone?”

“I’m waiting for friends,” she explains, as her phone pings on the bar in front of her.

The name Samuel flashes up on the device, and I’m surprised when my ribs grow tight.

“Damn you, Samuel,” she says, picking up her phone and reading the message she’s received.

“Is everything all right?”

She turns, her shoulders dropping. “My friends got held up. They’re going to be late.”

“Well, I’m happy to keep a fellow Brit company. Until they arrive.”

“It’s fine,” she says .

I shrug and move to stand. “No worries, have a pleasant evening.”

I go to turn but freeze when her hand lands on my arm.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. Please finish your drink. I’d like the company while I wait.”

I turn my head away and smile, sitting back beside her.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Pardon?” she asks.

“Are you in New York on business or for pleasure?”

Her smile illuminates her face, and my breath catches.

“Pleasure. I’m here visiting a friend. He’s been touring with the London cast of Mischief. Tonight is their last night in New York. We’re going out to celebrate. How about you?”

“Business, with some pleasure on the side.”

I shoot her another grin.

She shakes her head… tough crowd.

“How long are you here for?”

I wonder if I can see her again after tonight.

“I leave tomorrow,” she says, her gaze returning to her drink. “Then it’s back to reality.”

“What is reality?”

“I’m a dancer,” she says.

Well, that explains the toned legs and arms. My body hardens as I imagine those thighs wrapped around my waist or, more interestingly, around my head. My body temperature rises, although I clamp down on it.

“Classically trained?” I ask, and she smiles.

“Yes, although I mainly teach now.”

“Have you visited the David H. Koch Theatre and seen the ballet while you’ve been here?” I ask, suddenly wanting to know more about her.

She shakes her head. “No. Sadly, there hasn’t been time. I’m here in a supportive role. I have, however, been to see Mischief twice. And if you ever get to see it in the future, I can highly recommend it.”

Her smile remains, but it’s impossible to miss the longing look in her eyes when I mentioned the ballet.

“Favourite ballet?” I ask, wanting to see her sparkle return.

She grins. “Now that one is easy. And you may think it's unoriginal, but it has to be Swan Lake. The music, the choreography…”

She trails off before straightening her spine and staring me in the eyes.

“What about you? Are you a patron of the arts?”

My mind wanders to the actresses, pop stars, and dancers I’ve dated. I can be accused of being an avid supporter of the arts, but I don’t think that’s quite what she means .

“I’m not averse to the ballet, although my favourite is Don Quixote.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. One must genuinely live their life passionately, despite what other people think,” she says, narrating the story's message.

I nod. “Although I must admit, I prefer Formula One and fast cars.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “I should have guessed.”

I grin, and her shoulders relax.

“I also saw Mischief in London before it left on tour,” I admit, earning myself a quirked brow.

“A man of diverse tastes. I’m impressed,” she says, holding her drink and clinking it against mine.

“Are you going to the Grand Prix while you’re here? It’s in Vegas this weekend, isn’t it?” she asks.

I nod.

“I’m flying out on Sunday with some friends. My business and pleasure,” I tell her, widening her smile.

She really has the most expressive face .

“Once your pleasure is over. What will you be returning to?” April asks.

“I’m in property development,” I tell her, watching for recognition.

Still nothing.

“So, you’re good with your hands?” she asks, the twinkle evident in her eyes, making my breath catch.

“Among other things.”

April’s laugh is natural, and it’s a breath of fresh air to talk to someone who isn’t fawning all over me because of the Frazer family name. Tonight, I’m enjoying being Cal, not Caleb Frazer.

My eyes are drawn to her almost white blond hair and pale complexion, strikingly contrasting my olive skin and dark eyes. A rush of desire floods south as I imagine her pale skin stretched out against my darker complexion.

She looks over my shoulder and gasps. Her expression lights up as she jumps to her feet. Before I know it, a man appears at my side, pulling her into a bear hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his accent also British. “The producer wanted a word with us all before they packed up. We have a few days off before we open in Philadelphia, and he wanted to read us the riot act.”

April grips his arms, and my stomach drops.

“Don’t worry,” she says, looking up at him.

It’s then he seems to realise she’s not alone. Pulling back, he turns to face me, his eyes widening before grinning.

“Samuel,” he says, holding out his hand. “And you are?”

“Cal.”

I smile .

Samuel takes my hand in his and shakes it. “Pleased to meet you, Cal . ”

His gaze returns to April, his head tilting. I hold my breath and wait.

Have I been made?

“Cal has been keeping me company while I was waiting for you,” she says, sliding her arm through his.

His grin widens, and I exhale. Maybe my secret is safe for another couple of hours. “Wonderful. Thanks for looking after my girl. We’re about to head out to a club. Would you like to join us?” Samuel asks.

I flinch at his use of the term my girl .

Are these two an item?

I see him grimace, his eyes flying to April. I bite my lip when I notice her hand on his waist, her knuckles white as her fingers dig into his side.

“I’m sure Cal has better things to do,” she says, her tone firm.

“No, nothing,” I say, turning my attention back to her friend. “I’d love to join you. Where are you heading?”

Samuel’s enthusiasm is genuine.

“That’s great.” He grins as April outright glares at him. “The rest of the gang are meeting us at Odyssey,” Samuel adds, ignoring April’s obvious annoyance.

I stifle my smirk.

“Give me a moment.” I get up and move away, pulling out my phone before turning back and asking. “How many?”

“Ten.”

I turn away only to hear Samuel stage whisper to April. “Wow, baby girl, where did that bundle of hotness pop up from? I can’t leave you alone for a minute.”

His tone has no aggravation, so maybe they aren’t together.

My phone connects, so I don’t get to hear her reply .

“Devlin. Caleb Frazer. Can I get entrance for eleven?”

“Sounds like quite a party. I’ll have the champagne chilling.”

My friend laughs.

I wait as I hear him tap on his keyboard.

“It’s done. I take it I’ll be seeing you in Vegas this weekend?”

“Need you ask?” I say. “Thanks, Dev, I owe you one. I’ll catch you at the race.”