The Billionaires (Lover's Triangle 1)

Back to the business at hand.

He said, “Rogen wanted me here as his general counsel.”

“It’s only champagne and charcuterie, Vin,” she flippantly said. “Hardly requires legal representation.”

He gave a half snort. “That’s subjective.”

“Hey. There you two are.” Rogen suddenly appeared as they stood in a throng of tourists hoping for a table. The locals knew to make reservations well in advance on the weekends. Or possess the proper last name. “We’re set up out back.”

Rogen swooped in and kissed Jewel on the cheek. Vin fought a scowl, his temper simmering as they skirted the large fountain and made their way through the bar and lounge area and onto the patio.

It had always been so easy-breezy between Rogen and Jewel. And always so damn tumultuous between Vin and Jewel.

The bane of his existence was that he’d never gotten over her. Had never gotten her out of his system.

They’d kept their romance to themselves. Mostly because the Angelinis had taken Vin in after his parents’ deaths and Jewel had worried over Gian sending Vin off to Trinity, too, if he found out about them.

Vin had always been torn between attending the prep school with his best friend and staying in River Cross. With his best friend’s girlfriend.

In the end, she’d been impossible to leave. She’d been heartbroken and devastated when Rogen had left. Vin had sworn he’d never leave her. He’d sworn she could always count on him.

That had turned out to be another lie.

But again … not entirely his fault.

The trio crossed the threshold of opened glass doors and Rogen directed them to a collection of oversize armless patio chairs with thick cushions and a round glass-topped coffee table with a decorative black wrought-iron frame positioned in the middle of the seating area. The way the chairs were arranged created a inverted triangle with Vin and Rogen at the top and Jewel at the bottom.

Or maybe Vin just couldn’t get threesome connotations out of his mind.

Had it been Holly McCormick Rogen was making love to the other night, Vin would have joined them. And vice versa. But no. It had been Jewel.

And that was different.

So very, very different.

Yet … tempting.

So very, very tempting.

The two of them with her … Yeah. That’d pretty much comprise the be-all, end-all of ménages. And no fooling himself, he burned for it. Wanted more than anything for him and Rogen to do what they did best—work together to make her come, over and over, in the most dynamic ways.

But again … Not a fantasy that would ever become a reality.

Let it go, man.

Their server greeted them as she set out the charcuterie board with an assortment of cheeses, breads, pâtés, and olive oil–soaked almonds, while someone from the bar rushed over with a freestanding chiller, both Jewel and Rogen being wine-country royalty. The server popped the cork on a bottle of Cristal and the men deferred to Jewel to sample the champagne. With her nod of approval, the server poured.

When the trio was left alone, they raised their glasses, said “Salut,” in unison, and sipped.

Then Vin got right down to business. Once more latching on to the fact that it was the safe, sane thing to do.

He told Jewel, “Rogen and I figure the reason you came to the mansion was to make a play for the property your family co-owns with the Angelinis.”

She sipped again. “You could have gone straight to the source for confirmation—Gian.”

“He left for Italy this morning,” Rogen informed her. “And it was a pretty easy assumption to make, considering you said everyone’s fine at your estate. What other reason would you have to speak with my father?”

“It’s true,” she told them. “And he agreed to the sale.”