Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
I couldn’t deny it. And frankly his confidence, a turn-off for some, was part of what drew me to him. Was he a smug bastard? Yes, but he tempered it with his huge, generous heart.
“Let’s go inside. Afterward, I have a surprise for you.”
“Me? What is it?”
He patted my cheek as we entered the office building. “Silly. Why would I tell you?”
We received our passes from security and found the offices of Greer Parsons on the twenty-sixth floor. Sweeping views of the Hills spread out before us, so different from the high-rise skyscrapers of New York City, yet both awe-inspiring in their own way.
Greer came out himself to escort us to his office. I suppose if you inherited almost a billion dollars, you merited a personal greeting.
“This is Denis Bouvier. My partner.” It was the first time I’d ever said it out loud, and I didn’t miss Denis’s smile.
“The hockey player?” Greer took my outstretched hand even as he eyed Denis with barely disclosed interest. “I grew up in Brooklyn, came out to LA when I was a teenager. The Blades were my dad’s favorite team. Good luck this season.”
“Thank you.” He dipped his head, but by his reticence, Greer understood he wasn’t there to chat.
“All right. Let’s sit. I had my secretary order in some food in case you didn’t have time to eat lunch.”
A table had been set up with an interesting spread—platters of bagels, lox, and cream cheese, plus various salads. In addition, there was an elegant plate of sushi that looked as though it’d been made only moments earlier. A tiered dish of pastries sat by an espresso maker.
“Are you expecting half of Beverly Hills?”
“I always thought food makes everything easier.” He sat behind his desk.
“I looked through the papers, and this is going to require a team of people, not only attorneys. We’ll need financial experts, CPAs, people experienced with the SEC…
you get the picture. It’s not something I, or anyone, for that matter, could pull together in even a few days. Especially not over a weekend.”
“I understand. What I’m here for is knowledge.
As long as you can deal with what’s coming, I’m good with you and your firm handling everything.
I’m assuming Dahlia had a business manager?
I didn’t have a chance to speak about that when her lawyer contacted me.
All I do know is, I have no desire to run a cosmetics business. ”
“Although he wouldn’t mind the skin care,” Denis interjected, and I appreciated his attempt at lightening the mood.
“If I wanted to sell, you could find a buyer, I presume?”
“Absolutely. It’s a very, very valuable part of the estate—the largest share, in fact. So you’d probably see an injection of over five hundred million dollars.”
I swallowed. “That is an awful lot of money.”
“You might not want to sell after you think it all through.” He clasped his hands on top of his desk.
“Sterling. You are an extremely wealthy man now. I advise you to contact our financial advisor to think about investments for tax purposes. I can draw up papers to protect you and your assets.” He flicked his steely gaze to Denis, who sat unperturbed. “A prenuptial agreement, for instance.”
“We’re not engaged. Don’t rush me, mon ami,” Denis drawled. He rose and went to make himself an espresso. “Could you get Sterling a green tea, please? He doesn’t drink coffee.”
Greer picked up his phone and made the request.
“I know I’m very rich. But so is Denis. I hardly need protection from him.”
“Mon amour.” Denis put a hand on my shoulder. “I have no problem signing anything. Like you said, I have money of my own. I’m not with you for your wealth.”
“I know.”
Greer said, “It’s standard when someone has as much wealth as Sterling now has. Denis, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”
Denis sprawled in his chair. “Maybe you did, or maybe not. What you think doesn’t matter to me.
Sterling will make his own decisions, and I trust him implicitly, but I have no intention of taking any money from him.
” That sexy, intimate smile on his lips never failed to turn me on.
“As long as I own his heart, I’m a happy and fulfilled man. ”
“You know the French,” I joked to ease the tension. “Full of passion and romance. But I also trust Denis.”
Greer nodded. “If you don’t mind me saying, Sterling, you’re a lucky man.”
“I know.”
Several hours later, having met with more corporate types than I’d ever known existed, I called for a car.
“Promise you won’t ever make me do that again. All the money in the world isn’t worth it,” I moaned as we took off.
“Mon pauvre chéri…” He massaged my shoulders, his smile and the twinkle in his eyes making me happy. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
The car wound its way into Malibu and stopped in front of the house. I hadn’t seen it in over four years, since I’d left LA, but I’d had someone take care of it.
“Come on, let’s go.” I exited the car, and he followed me.
“Qu’est ce que c’est?” Denis’s brows pulled together as he craned his neck. “This is Malibu. Did you rent us a house on the beach, mon amour? Très romantique.” He slipped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “I want to make love to you to the sound of the ocean.”
“Let’s go inside.” Key in hand, I walked up the front steps of the ultramodern home and opened the front door to the spectacular view of the endless Pacific Ocean. “What do you think?”
Denis’s long stride took him across the large open living room to the slider doors that led onto a deck. The pool sparkled in the sunlight, and rays of sunshine streamed in, touching his hair, turning it to spun gold. “Magnifique.”
“It’s ours.”
He stood still. “What do you mean, ours?”
“Well, mine. Along with the money I got from my mother, I asked her for this house. I used to come here on weekends to get away.”
“Did you ever bring anyone here?” he asked. “Other men?”
I flushed. “No. I was raised in secrecy, so I never let anyone into my personal life. No one knew where I lived. We’d meet in hotels.
Sometimes I’d forget their names as soon as they left.
” I stared out at the ocean. “It was all a lifetime ago. Returning here takes me back to that time when I was basically going through the motions of life but not living. I never made friends—didn’t know how. ”
“You can’t dismiss who you were. It shaped who you are now. I have regrets as well.”
I leaned on him. “Everyone does.” His warmth soaked through me. “What are yours?”
It took him a while to answer, and when he did, the strain in his voice was evident. “It doesn’t matter.”
A sharp pain hit my heart, and I grimaced. “It’s all too much for you, isn’t it? The money, the notoriety I’m trying so hard to avoid…”
He grabbed me roughly and kissed me hard on the mouth. “No. Never. It has nothing to do with that.”
“Then what?” Strands of hair escaped his upswept bun, and he brushed them off his face.
I reached out and undid the tie, letting it flow to his shoulders.
“Do you know how much I love your hair? You thought I was some uptight, hard-ass guy in a suit, but that was only because I had to be to keep away from you. One touch and it was over.” I threaded my fingers through the heavy, silken waves.
“What’s wrong? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”
His eyes glittered. “The thought of you with other men. I can’t stand it. I was no saint, and I was never the jealous type, but thinking about them being with you…touching you…making love to you…Je t’aime de tout mon être.”
I rested my face against his chest. The comforting thump of his heart settled all the swirling pieces in my head. “None of them made a difference. Only you.” The comforting smell of his skin, like the sun only warmer, brought me peace.
He kissed the top of my head. “Guess I am a fucking jealous bastard after all. I just love you very, very much.”
“Don’t be sorry. I spent my whole life never hearing that word from anyone until I met you. I didn’t know what it meant, or how I should feel.”
“And now?” A tender hand stroked my face.
“Now I think you saved me from a very lonely life.”