A Billionaire for Christmas

Raji was staring at her own hands, caramel-brown starfish splayed on the pale wood of her breakfast table. They were slim and as strong as a pianist’s fingers, probably from all the surgery she did. “I wondered why he stopped playing the guitar.”

Peyton nodded. “Because the bones in two of his fingers and half his hand had been crushed to pebbles.”

She shuddered, still staring at her hands. “I wouldn’t be able to do surgery anymore.”

He nodded.

“You were there,” Raji said. “You saved her, too, right?”

Peyton shook his head. “I had the same type of zip ties tying my hands behind my back. It didn’t occur to me to break my hand to get out of them. It didn’t occur to me to give up everything to save her. But Xan thought of it, and he did it. He didn’t hesitate. He gave up his music for her.”

Raji’s eyes were wide on her elfin face. “Wow.”

Peyton nodded. “Yeah. Wow.”

“Would you have done that if you had thought of it?”

A question that had haunted him for months. “I didn’t think of it, not even to save my own life. I thought we were all going to die, quite honestly. The kidnappers didn’t care about what we saw, who we might be able to identify, or what we might be able to testify to later. Therefore, they were planning on making sure we didn’t get out alive. That’s probably my answer, right there. Music is more important to me than my own life.”

“You’re still tied up in knots about her, though.”

Peyton shook his head. “We’re friends. I wish her every happiness in the world, but I know her happiness isn’t with me. Maybe just this once, I can learn not to be such a selfish bastard, huh?”

“I don’t think you’re a selfish bastard.” She walked around the table and straddled his legs, and she twined her arms behind his neck. “I’ve seen you two together, like at Andy’s wedding reception. Considering the way she linked her arm through yours while we were standing around talking, and just the easy way she talked to you, I think she has forgiven you and thinks of you as a friend.”

Peyton nodded, adjusting how she sat on his thighs. When her jeans rubbed across his leg, she bit her lip.

He said, “Okay, let’s see if I am such a selfish bastard. Tell me your rules.”

“When we’re together,” Raji said, staring at him with her dark, gorgeous eyes, “no going out in public. We hole up in a hotel room or my apartment, order room service or delivery, and stay in there. No mentioning me to the press. No telling anyone that you’re seeing anyone at all.”

He slid his hands up her thighs and cupped the slim curves of her ass. “Are we seeing each other?”

“In private. I mean, if you want to.”

“A secret affair,” Peyton said. “Yeah, I want to.”

“Okay, then,” Raji said, “for us, we’re seeing each other.”

“The other people in the band know I’m here,” he said. “Andy knows something is going on with you.”

“Tell them we broke it off.”

“But I like you,” he said. “If we broke it off, I’d mope around for days. Weeks, maybe.”

“So mope around for a while.”

“All right, I will. What else?”

“When I was in junior high, I studied and prepared hard for high school so that I could get flat straight-A’s the whole way through.”

“You’ve always seemed industrious to me,” he said.

Raji adjusted her legs on his thighs again, rubbing her jeans right across Peyton’s dick. He might agree to anything at the moment.

She said, “Medicine is my whole life, Peys. For me, my career is more important than my life, so no falling in love, okay? No sentimental stuff. No love, no relationship, no girlfriend-boyfriend stuff, no anniversaries. We are cold-blooded lizard people. This is not going anywhere, Peyton. We’re just seeing each other. It’s just a fuck buddy-type of thing. Strict boundaries. No messing up my career or yours. No sacrificing your music or my residency for fucking.”

Peyton was grinning at her. “But we’re friends, right?”

“Well, yeah. We’re friends with fucking benefits, but we are friends.”

“Then I’m good with that. Fuck buddies, we are. Very, very good fuck buddies.”

“Seriously, Peyton. I’ve been working my whole life to be a surgeon. Don’t fuck it up for me.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll keep your secrets. You can trust me.”

Raji cocked her head slightly. “I believe you.”

Peyton leaned back in his chair, a small movement, but he was blown backward. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

She shook her head, her short hair feathering around her face. “I think I can trust you. How long have you been with KV now?”

“Eight months,” he admitted.

“So, the time you’ve spent with Killer Valentine trying to apologize to Georgie is now about half of the time you actually dropped the ball for her,” Raji said.