Beauty and her Billionaire Beast Read online

  Until he left for college.

  We went from everything to nothing in five seconds flat. It still hurts that he’s not been in my life. And I still don’t know why. From where I was standing, nothing had ended on bad terms, and we didn’t have any bad blood between us. But he cut all ties with me and I never could figure out what I did to cause it. During the first couple of years, I assumed I must have slipped up somehow. Later on, I came to terms with the idea that he outgrew our friendship. Which was tragic for me because I have very few friends. I forced myself to move on. Forced myself to let him go.

  And here he is, standing in front of me with what are now sinfully sexy eyes full of broody darkness, that hard, sharp yet handsome face with the scar that adds a heaping dose of mystery and danger to him, and this broad, chiseled, muscular body that ripples with every movement under his tux. How is he here at this event? I thought I’d seen everyone but clearly, I missed one. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to bump into here.

  “Isabelle.” Knox knits together his eyebrows as though just seeing my face is confusing to him. That’s fair, because I feel the exact same way about finding him here. “It’s been…a while. I almost can’t believe it’s you.”

  My body’s fight-or-flight response is on overdrive. My legs desperately want to turn and run at a million miles an hour, and my fingertips tingle with an unbelievable urge to either slap him in the face or punch him hard in the jaw. But my limbs have gone numb. I can’t move.

  “Knox,” I eventually reply, and hear my surprise dripping off my tongue. “Same here. It’s been, well years.”

  “It has,” he says quietly. Knox cocks his head to one side as he examines me closely, inspecting me from head to toe, snaking his gaze down my body so slowly that it may as well be his hands. It feels all kinds of wrong because he’s never looked at me this way. I can almost feel his eyes as it meets every inch of me.

  “How have you been?” I ask, hoping to direct his eyes back to my face so I can regain the use of my limbs.

  “Good. We should catch up soon, if you’d like.”

  My eyes narrow. Catch up? I don’t want to catch up. I want to confront him. I want to know why he threw out our friendship like it was yesterday’s trash. I want to hurt him like he hurt me back then when he left without a goodbye and cut me out of his life. I want his heart to hurt, to burn, to crumble, to break into a million pieces with no chance of ever being whole again. Like mine is.

  But more than anything, as much as I hate to admit it, I miss him. I miss us. Desperately. I want what we used to have. I want my best friend back. Sure, he was an animal. A cruel beast. But he was my beast.

  “I don’t know if you’ll like what happens if we sit down to talk, but sure, I’m game.”

  He points back at the bar. “How about a drink?”

  “I was just about to leave, but…” I start to explain and hear my voice trailing off. How is it that I neglected to mention I actually was on my way to the bar for my last drink of the night anyway? But I’ve never been a smooth talker, so in spite of no longer wanting to bail on this engagement party, something stops me from adding that last part. Still, this could be one of those once-in-a-lifetime second chances to reconnect. For all I know, after I leave this party tonight, we’ll go back to never crossing paths and our friendship may stay dead. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to walk away from him just yet. “Yes, okay, a drink sounds nice. Thanks.”

  I follow behind Knox, allowing my eyes to travel down the length of his body. As I look at him through my adult eyes, there’s fluttering in the pit of my stomach that comes from out of nowhere. Now that he’s in front of me after all this time, all kinds of girlish fantasies come flooding in. Thoughts I’d never entertained before come over me.

  I can see now why no one believed we weren’t an item back in high school. Knox Steele is all kinds of sexy and completely irresistible. How I managed to not take a bite out of this apple back then is beyond me. The popular high school girls all adored him, and he was whispered about in the hallways more than any of the other boys. But during all that time we were friends, his bad boy allure never affected me in a sensual way. God knows why. I was either naïve, filtering out these juicy bits of his sex appeal, or just plain blind. Though I must admit I was thoroughly content to be his close friend. He shared a side of himself with me that none of the other girls ever saw.

  He gave me his trust.

  He shared his secrets.

  He let me see all his flaws.

  He showed me the real Knox.

  His girlfriends and groupies and bed warmers would come and go, but I was his true friend. Knox confided in me in ways he never would with them, and that made me feel like I was more special to him. Maybe I put too much weight in the fact that I knew Knox better than anyone else. Thinking back, I might’ve been smug and self-righteous about it too.

  Now I can’t help but wonder if I should’ve been jumping his bones the entire time. Maybe I made a mistake being “just friends” with this ruggedly gorgeous creature.

  “What’s your poison?” His lips graze my earlobe as he asks me the question in a sultry baritone voice at the bar. A voice that travels straight to my core and makes my knees weak enough to buckle.

  “Sparkling white wine, thank you.”

  As he turns back to give the bartender our order, I flick my eyes over the rest of the party, really looking at them now that I’ll stay a while longer. Back at home, when I threw on this dress, I was feeling pretty good about my look. But now, looking around, I feel infinitely more self-assured with Knox beside me. He’s always had that effect on me, although he’d also say that I’m too gorgeous to be shy, just like he always used to. I never saw what he saw in me that made him believe I was that great-looking. I guess it goes to show that beauty really is in the eyes of the beholder. What I see when I look in the mirror is a plain girl with odd hazel eyes and facial features that are a little more elongated than they should be. I’ve never been the girl that turns heads, which is fine with me because of my shyness. Blending into the background is quite all right with me.

  But Knox sees something else.

  Knox gazes intently at me as he hands me my drink. “So, beautiful, what have you been up to in the last... what, decade? Give or take.”

  “Oh, you know, this and that.” I nervously tuck my clutch purse into the crook of my inner elbow. He still knows how to bring the color to my cheeks with just words. There was a time when we knew each other inside and out, and now, with a gap of close to ten years of not seeing each other, some of that closeness returns as though it never left. But the truth is we know nothing about each other today. We could be two completely different people. How did he let so much time pass?

  “I heard you stayed in town for college. How was it?”

  “Good. I didn’t study business or politics, or anything super-marketable as my parents like to say, but I enjoyed majoring in English.”

  “And you’re helping out your mom, right? I believe I saw something in her last charity gala invite.”

  “Yes. It pays the bills.” I nod and let out a nervous laugh. Deep down, I’m relieved that he kept up with what I’ve been doing. I take it to mean that he cares. Lord knows I need to believe he still does.

  “Knowing you, you’re probably running the charity from behind the scenes. You were always modest to a fault.” He grins, reminding me that he does still know me even if it doesn’t feel like it anymore.

  “Not quite running it, but I know my way around the operation. Mom’s stance has always been that she’s preparing me as her successor. She was hoping my sister would eventually take interest, but reality has set in, I think.”

  “Yes, I remember. Bethany was…different…cut from a different cloth from the rest of your family. How’s she doing?”

  “Great,” I answer to keep it short because every detail of Bethany’s life is a long, long story. “And what about you?”

  His face darkens f
or a split second, and I hope my question doesn’t cause him to relive his family tragedy.

  “I’m good. Helping out Pops with the business,” he eventually replies without an ounce of enthusiasm and my chest tightens at the thought.

  It’s no surprise to me. The idea of working in the airplane industry must bring him daily torture after losing his parents in a plane crash. No one can fault him for being so disinterested in the family business. I don’t want or need to ask him to elaborate. I can tell that such an unfortunate irony still keeps a solid barrier between him and his corporate legacy.

  “So, it sounds like we both ended up where we were expected to,” I comment idly. “Not too surprising.”

  “Yeah and next thing we know, you and I will end up together.” Knox half smirks through his offhand remark.

  I stiffen up and feel the anger rise. Heat floods my cheeks and my fingers tighten around my wine glass. “That would be…strange… you know, considering that ten years went by without us so much as saying one word to each other.”

  “True. Pops and your parents were rooting for us to hit it off at one point. Remember?”

  “I try not to.”

  “Well, well.” A guy I’d recognize anywhere bounds over to Knox’s side and throws and arm over his shoulder. He has a beautiful woman with gorgeous red hair on his other arm and a beaming grin on his face. “Isabelle! What a nice surprise. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Hi Foster. Yes, it has.”

  “We need to get the band back together,” he jokes, but I’m not laughing. Knox’s departure also took Foster from me. It’s like our friendship was just by extension, a coincidence because we were only connected because of Knox. He looks over at Knox then back at me. “Lilac and I are about to head out. You two want to come with?”

  “Uh, where to?” I ask.

  “A club. Or a bar or restaurant somewhere. I’m close to overstaying my welcome in this joint. Join us. There’s lots of room in the limo.”

  I’m no party girl. I wouldn’t know what to do or how to act on a dance floor if my life depended on it.

  Knox glances at me and instantly reads the hesitation on my face. “You go on ahead, buddy. Isabelle and I are sticking around for a drink. Or a few.”

  Foster leans over Knox’s shoulder and flashes me a playful, knowing grin. “You two could never fool me back then.”

  I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. Foster championed the rumor that Knox and I were an item back in high school. He never got that a man and woman could be close without getting it on. Of course, I’m thoroughly aware that Knox’s decision to stay behind has nothing to do with hooking up. We’ve never crossed the line and that won’t change. But it’s a strange thrill to have someone assume we’re more than friends. How can I not feel a little giddy about that? Knox Steele is a man wanted by half the women in the room. I can see the looks coming his way since he approached me. They’re ready to line up for him, but right now, he’s with me. That familiar smugness rising up in my chest feels like old times again.

  I throw Foster a naughty wink to give him the wrong idea, and take another drink of my wine. It’s nice to be thought of as the sexy temptress, the vixen. Being the good girl all my life didn’t get me very far, and it sure wasn’t nearly as much fun as I’d wanted. Maybe letting loose is exactly what my life is missing. Things have felt one dimensional and so predictable for so long. But now, Knox is back, and with him, a spark of desire ignites within me. Some fun might be just what I need.

  Foster grins as he pats Knox on the arm. “You two lovebirds have fun.”

  Knox shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line as Foster walks away. I can’t help but wish there was some truth to the notion. After he disappeared from my life, I missed what we had so much that all that yearning led to more. Pretty soon after that, I wanted more than just friendship from him. There have been countless moments like this, where all I fantasized about was Knox. He would show up from out of nowhere and beg me to forgive him for leaving me behind. He’d lean in and claim my lips, then ravage my body. But that’s never going to happen. Not the apology, and not the torrid makeout session. As before, his presence is all I get, and it’ll have to be enough. Only now, it doesn’t quite satisfy me in the same way that it did back then.

  “Come with me.” Knox’s tone is firm.

  “What? Where to?”

  That sweet smile I remember crawls up his face. “Somewhere quiet. I want to hear what you’ve been up to.”

  “Okay,” I answer, although my agreement is a moot point, given that he’s already taken my hand and is leading me further into the ballroom.

  One-on-one time with Knox sounds more risky and dangerous than fun. I just got him back and if I don’t control myself, I’ll lose him just as quickly. The wine has already relaxed my tongue, so I’m liable to say what I think about him abandoning me, and I’ll end up shutting him down. I just hope I can tamp down the butterflies in my stomach and the heat that’s begun to flood my core.

  4

  Knox

  My hands are itching to do more than rest on Isabelle’s shoulder as we sit in a quiet corner outside the main ballroom. A few wait staff have passed by several times with trays filled with glasses of whiskey and flutes of white wine. We haven’t turned them down once. My guess is we’re on our fifth round since we sat here, which leaves me with a lot less interest in being in control than usual. But as I stare into Isabelle’s hazel eyes, as I allow myself to get lost in them, and as I relax and listen to her share what has filled her life since we lost touch, emotions I don’t want to feel expand within my chest. Like regret, shame, and remorse. I want to kick myself. Why did I let ten years pass?

  Oh. Right. I know why.

  I’m a selfish, arrogant, thoughtless, heartless fucking prick.

  Instead of listening to her, I should be groveling for her forgiveness. Instead of sitting here like no time has passed and like our history is a clean slate, I should be addressing the issue. But that doesn’t happen. What’s worse is the way my thoughts are straying way outside the friend zone. Maybe I don’t want my friend back. Maybe I can keep our emotional distance intact, leave our friendship in the past where it belongs, and treat her like I treat most women I want to fuck.

  That would be fucking wrong. I know it in my gut, but I still entertain the idea.

  “I have a hard time believing you didn’t date much in college, Belle,” I say through the husky rasp of inebriation, calling her by the nickname I gave her all those years ago. The nickname only I get to use on her. At least I think that’s still the case. Leaning in close to her, I inhale deeply, eyes pulled shut as I breathe in her sweet, citrusy scent that reminds me of all the time we spent together as kids. Except now, instead of wanting to play punch her arm like I used to, I can’t stop imagining how amazing she must look under all these clothes.

  “How come? It’s not like I had a bunch of guys chasing me in high school.” Isabelle flips her hair behind one shoulder, exposing the slender lines of her neck and collarbone. I wonder if she knows how fucking sexy she looks when she does that. I’d like to believe that she does, but it’s wishful thinking. Isabelle’s too innocent to flirt. But fuck, my dick doesn’t care whether she means to or not. It’s hard as slate, straining against the zipper of my dress slacks. One part of me, the decent part, is desperately not to cross a line here, but the other part, my beast, it wants to charge across that line and take Belle in the most sinful, vicious way.

  “But the reason they stayed away was mostly because of me, remember?”

  “You might have a point.” She slides her tongue along her bottom lip. What I wouldn’t give for those lips to be wrapped around my shaft, trailing along my length right this second. It’s so unfamiliar, thinking this way about the girl who knows what I’m all about and still remained friends with me. But I don’t want to stop my brain or these urges from taking us somewhere we probably shouldn’t go. Not while I gaze down from th
ose lips, along her neck to those slender shoulders that draw my eyes to the pale flesh of her full cleavage...

  “Are you really all that convinced that you scared them off?” she asks, drawing my eyes back to hers. “It’s possible they weren’t that interested, you know. It’s not as though I looked like a supermodel or anything.”

  “I’m sure. I really did.”

  “Like, intentionally?”

  “I don’t think so, no… but I can’t imagine any of those guys having the balls to ask you out knowing I was in the picture. Even if I was only a friend. And fuck, I can’t believe you won’t admit how fucking gorgeous you are. Since the second I got to your side tonight, practically every man in here has been lusting after you with their eyes popping out of their heads and their tongue hanging out of their mouths like the dogs that they are.”

  “Hmm.” Isabelle purses her lips, and my dick throbs.

  I want her. And I’m used to taking what I want. Back all those years ago, I might’ve kept my hands to myself, but then again, I saw Isabelle as a kid, and I had so few people who really knew me or had my back that I wouldn’t have dared to jeopardize our friendship. But we don’t really have that closeness anymore. There’s nothing left to risk, and fuck, I’m sick of holding back. Every instinct wants to reach forward, pull her tight against me, and claim every inch of her for tonight. I don’t know or care about tomorrow. If Isabelle was just some random chick I would’ve done that hours ago, but something’s stopping me. The truth is that if we cross this line, when we do, there’s no going back. And I have no fucking doubt in my mind that when that happens, I will break her.

  “There was one guy I was interested in for a while,” Isabelle slurs through her tipsiness. She’s oblivious to the lust and sexual longing that are dripping off of me. “But as it turns out, he was into a different type. Or types, rather. Let me think about how to put it…”

  “He was a male slut?” I offer, pretty sure she’s referring to me. Because I was and still am. “I can imagine, with an interest in other ‘types’ as you put it, he’d have to be chasing tail solely for a quick fuck.”