Page 28 of Black Tie Billionaire
Exhaling a breath, she rubbed her damp palms down her thighs. No fascination. Or curiosity. Both were hazardous and would only lead to a slippery, dangerous slope. One where she could convince herself that the tender, generous man was the true one, and theone who held her brother’s future over her head was the aberration.
What had been one of her mother’s favorite sayings? “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.” Well, Gideon had shown her he would go to any lengths, no matter how merciless, to achieve what he wanted. Even if it meant using and hurting other people in the process. She needed to believe this truth.
And acceptit.
The doorbell rang again, and it unglued her feet, propelling her forward. She unlocked and opened the door, revealing her date for the evening. No, correction—the man she was madly in love with for the next six months.
Gideon stared down at her, his black eyes slowly traversing the curls and waves she’d opted for tonight, down the black cocktail dress with its sheer side cutouts andsleeves, to the stilettos that added four inches to her height. When his eyes met hers again, she barely caught herself before taking a step back from the heat there. It practically seared her skin.
Hazardous. Dangerous. She silently chanted the warnings to herself like a mantra.
He would set fire to her life and leave her covered in ashes.
“Seven o’clock,” she rasped, before clearingher throat of the arousal thickening it. “Just as you requested.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Struck speechless, she could only stare at him. His expression hadn’t changed from the cool, distant mask, but those eyes, and now his voice... If his gaze made her tremble, the low, sensual throb in that dark velvet voice had her squeezing her thighs against the ache deep inside her.
“Where’s yourcoat?” he asked, glancing past her into the house.
“I have it.”
Get it together, she silently ordered herself as she briefly returned inside to grab her coat off the stand.
“Here. Let me.” He stepped inside the foyer and took the cape from her, holding it up while she slipped into it.
Fastening it, she turned back to him, and her voice did another vanishing act when he offeredher a crooked elbow. Her breathing shallow, she hesitated, then slid her arm through his and let him guide her out of the house and to his waiting Town Car. A driver stood at the rear door, but Gideon waved him away and opened the door for her himself.
God, she was too old for Cinderella-like fairy tales. If she’d ever had stars in her eyes, they’d been dimmed a long time ago. But here, sittingwith Gideon Knight in the back of a car that was more elegant and luxurious than any limousine she’d ridden in, with the heat from his body and his earthy sandalwood scent invading her senses, she could almost understand why Cinderella had lost a beautiful shoe over a man.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you earlier, but...thank you. For stepping in and helping Bridgette this afternoon.” Sheglanced at his sharply hewn profile. “How do you know how to cook? I wouldn’t have expected it of...a man like you.”
He turned to her, and even in the shadowed interior, his dark eyes gleamed. Dim light from the streetlamps passed over his face, highlighting then hiding his too-handsome features. She fought the urge to stroke her fingertips over those planes and angles, over the full curvesof his mouth. Free those thick, silken strands and tangle her fingers in them...
“A man like me?” he repeated, the sardonic note relaying that he understood exactly what she meant. “I hate to tarnish your image of me, Shay, but my beginnings aren’t as rarefied as yours and your brother’s. My grandparents immigrated from China with nothing more than they could carry, and both of my parentsworked barely above minimum-wage jobs when I was a kid. When my father died, Mom often worked two jobs to provide for us. And as soon as I was old enough, I took any kind of employment I could to help her. One of those happened to be as a short-order cook. If you ever need your yard landscaped or your gutters cleaned, I can do those, too.”
Shame sidled through her in a slick, oily glide. She’dunknowingly spoken from a lofty place of privilege, but her ignorance didn’t excuse it. True, she didn’t subscribe to the idle lives some of those in high society did—she believed in working hard and making a difference in the world—but she couldn’t deny that she didn’t know what it was to go without. To go to bed exhausted from menial labor or worried about how the next bill would be paid.
Gideon’s mother, and even Gideon, obviously did.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I spoke out of turn.” She paused, debated whether to say anything else, but ended up whispering, “Your mother must be proud of you.”
He studied her for several silent, heavy moments. “She is. But then again, she would’ve been proud of me if I’d decided to remain a short-order cook in a fast-food restaurant.”
Shay digested that, turned it over and analyzed it again. Could she say the same for her parents?No. Her father would’ve easily disowned her. And as much as Shay adored her mother, Leida Neal wouldn’t have been proud of or happy for her daughter if she had been anything less than what her name demanded—respectable, wealthy, connected and married to a man who fit those same qualifications.
The certainty in that knowledge saddened her. Did Gideon realize how fortunate he was?
“She sounds lovely,” Shay said, ready to drop the unsettling subject. But then, because her mouth apparently had no allegiance to her, she blurted out, “I’m sorry about your father.”
Another heartbeat of weighty silence.
“It was a long time ago.”
“My mother died fourteen years ago. And I stillmiss her every day,” she admitted softly.
Slowly, he nodded. “I remember,” he finally said, surprising her. “Your brother and I went to high school together, and later attended the same college. But I recall when your mother died. The principal came for him in the middle of class and took him out.”
