A Billionaire for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 3)

She placed a finger over his lips and smiled. “It’s fine. I wondered, is all.”

They hailed a cab at the curb and rode in silence to the venue. Heath paid the driver, then helped Aileen out. She gasped, staring up at the violet and fuchsia light pouring from the front of the building, lighting the small plaza in the front like a fairy tale.

“Wow! I’ve read about this place, but seeing it in person is impressive.” She continued to gape as Heath led her between the massive two-story pillars flanking the front entrance and up three stone steps into a small, flagstone-floored lobby area. Through another set of doors was the main ballroom—lit with more pastel spotlights and round, white linen-covered tables with huge poinsettia centerpieces surrounded by flickering candles. At the far end of the room was a stage, where a myriad of fine antiques had been set up for browsing and bidding and against the right-hand side was a buffet and cash bar. Against the other side of the room, a small string quartet played tasteful holiday songs and couples swayed on a custom-laid dance floor.

Even Heath had to admit the place reeked with holiday cheer and old money.

“C’mon. My father’s table is near the front.” Heath kept his hand on Aileen’s lower back to steer her and also because it felt so good to touch her. They maneuvered through the tables and the other guests milling about, Heath occasionally stopping to say hello or introduce his date—calling her simply Aileen and his “friend.” She’d given him a look at that, but what else could he say? She’s my best friend’s younger sister whom I’m currently hiding and also fucking and quite possibly falling in love with?

Yeah. That would not go over well. Especially with his father.

Besides, if he was falling in love with Aileen, that was bad. Very, very bad. He’d warned himself not to go there, not to get involved with her any more than was necessary to keep her safe, but damn if that hadn’t gotten shot straight to hell after they’d made love.

He got Aileen settled at his father’s table, then went to get them drinks at the bar. So far, his newly-divorced father was nowhere in sight. He got two flutes of champagne then headed back, only to find his father now by Aileen’s side, flirting shamelessly with a woman more than half his age.

Heath gritted his teeth, unaccountable jealousy welling up inside him. The ink wasn’t even dry on the man’s divorce papers and he was already diving back into the dating pool. With more force than was necessary, Heath plunked the glasses down on the table then scooted his chair closer to Aileen before taking a seat behind her. His father raised a brow at his son’s blatantly territorial move, but thankfully didn’t comment.

“Ah, son. I wondered when you’d make it here. I was just chatting with your lovely companion this evening.” Heathcliff Goldwin, II took Aileen’s hand and kissed the back of it, a spark of amusement in his gray eyes, the same color as his son’s. “I assume you didn’t come here tonight to buy new knickknacks.”

“No. I didn’t.” He leaned forward and kissed Aileen’s bare shoulder, causing her to gasp and his traitorous cock to twitch again. “May I speak to you alone for a moment, Dad?”

The older man narrowed his gaze, his eyes flickering from Aileen to his son then back again, realization dawning in his expression as he smiled slowly. “Of course, son. Won’t you excuse us a moment?”

Aileen looked back at Heath. “Where are you going?”

“Just up on stage a moment, darling. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

She gave him a suspicious look, but nodded.

Heath followed his father up on stage and behind a tall armoire to get some privacy.

“Congratulations, Son. I never thought I’d see the day, but I’m happy for you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Heath scowled.

“Love, dear boy. Happens to the best of us.”

Exhaling slowly to stifle his temper, Heath said, “Aileen and I are working together. It’s not like that between us.” Liar. “We have an agreement.”

“Uh huh.” His father chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve had those kinds of agreements too. Seems things never work out quite how we picture them though, eh son? What did you want to talk to me about?”

Glad for the change in topic, Heath focused on the reason he’d come tonight. “I need more information about Senator Lawrence and his dealings with EnKor. I also need you to point out any investors in the energy company who are in attendance tonight.”

“I see.” His father crossed his arms. “Well, with the holiday tomorrow, it’ll take me a few days on the intel about the Senator. As far as investors go, I see two couples who gave EnKor a great deal of money. The Taylors and the Musgroves. Want me to arrange a meeting with them for you?”

“No.” Heath glanced back to the table where Aileen was sitting all alone, looking more than a bit uncomfortable. His heart tugged. The last thing he wanted tonight was for her to not feel special. This was Christmas Eve, after all. A quick look at the dance floor showed both elderly couples currently cutting a rug to a slow waltz tune. “I think I have a better idea.”

With that, Heath headed back to the table and bowed before Aileen, hand extended. “May I have this dance?”

She looked up at him, so beautiful and eager. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They joined the other couples on the floor and Heath did his best to remember why he was here—to talk to the other couples—and not lose himself in the feel of Aileen in his arms, her soft curves pressing so deliciously against him. The light, sweet smell of her floral perfume swirled around him and a bit of the tension in his shoulders relaxed. She rested her head against his shoulder, her warm breath ghosting over his neck above the collar of his starched white shirt and sending a shiver of pleasure through his nerve endings.

Concentrate, dude. Concentrate.

Skillfully, he maneuvered them closer to the first couple, the Taylors—a man and a woman in their mid-seventies, with pure white hair and kindly smiles. He’d met them at several different functions over the years and they always reminded him of the kind of grandparents he’d wished he’d had.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” Heath said, grinning. “So wonderful to see you both here tonight.”