Page 44 of The Billionaires

Is Eidith looking at Lucius with hope in her eyes?

Oh, no, you don’t. If anyone is dancing with my fake boyfriend, it’s me.

As if reading my mind, Lucius lowers his lips to my ear and asks in a sexy whisper, “Would you like to dance?”

CHAPTER 18

LUCIUS

Juno flaps her long lashes at me for a few seconds before she stands up. “Sure.”

I lead her to the dance floor, where we join a few other couples. The song the DJ plays must be by Ariana Grande because it’s a woman’s voice and Juno grins like a loon as she tells me, “That’s your favorite.”

I’m not usually a fan of dancing, but seeing Juno move makes the chore surprisingly tolerable. It must be her bright smile. Or the sway of her rounded hips. Or the sparkle in her honey-colored eyes. Or it could be the fact that her fast-moving feet are difficult to ignore. Speaking of that, has she always had that ankle bracelet and toe ring?

I drag my gaze back to her face. She’s wearing that same bright smile that captured me earlier. Suddenly, she pales and glances at someone to our left. Her smile evaporates, replaced with a deep frown.

“What is it?” I follow her gaze and see a boring couple: a shifty-looking man about my age and a woman who is clearly one of those annoying heiresses with a trust fund and enough entitled attitude to kill a horse.

“That’s my ex,” Juno says in a slightly choked voice. “With his new wife. The richer and smarter upgrade.”

Richer? Who cares? Smarter? I highly doubt it. To give credit where credit is due, Juno’s mind is razor sharp.

The shifty guy spots us, and for whatever reason, he seems to be looking more at me than at Juno as he drags his wife over to us.

What fresh hell is this?

“Juno,” he screams over the music when they’re close enough. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s my date,” I retort and try my best to project an attitude of “now leave us the fuck alone.”

The guy looks on the verge of drooling. “You’re Lucius Warren, right?”

As usual, I can tell what he’s really saying, and it is: You’re that guy who can do something for me. Please be that guy. Pretty please.

“That’s him,” the wife says, beaming. “I told you it’s him.”

“What are you doing here?” Juno demands.

The ex shrugs. “This cause is important to the wife.”

Is it really the cause, or getting glammed up and mingling with the right people?

Juno looks just as skeptical as I feel. “Well,” she says. “Nice bumping into you two.”

Translation from polite speak:

It sucked ass, so go away.

“I heard you’re soliciting doctors for a secret project,” the ex says to me, beady eyes shining.

And there it is. Can I please be on Project Novus Rome? Pretty please.

“It’s true,” I say. “But why do you care? I’m looking for the best doctors.”

Is it clear that I’m implying “and you’re not one of them?” Yep. Based on the widening eyes of Juno and the guy’s wife, the message gets through. The ex must get it as well, since he looks like he’s considering throwing a punch.

I give him a look that says, Yes, please. Great idea. Make coming to this shindig worth my time.

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