Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 6)

“The driver will take you wherever you wish to go,” Robert said. “There’s a table at The Dorchester with your name on it. I’ll have the manager send over a few bottles of champagne, a few young ladies—”

“Actually,” James said, easing himself gracefully out of his twin’s hands, “I came to see if Della is free.”

My face lit up, and it was all I could do not to jump up and down right then and there. I couldn’t get over how wonderful it felt to hear him say my name, a sweet victory for me since he had refused to let me share that with him the night of our rooftop romp. I realized, with a grin, that I’d been waiting to hear him say it ever since. “She certainly is,” I answered without a second of hesitation.

James reached out to offer his arm, but Robert stepped abruptly between us in the most socially awkward of ways. “I’m afraid Della has a little more work to finish here as well.”

But I’m two weeks ahead on all my projects. What, does he want me to make him tea or something? I’d like to shove a crumpet up his uppity ass or arse or whatever the hell they call it over here!

A muscle twitched in the back of James’s jaw, but he turned toward his brother with that same patient expression on his face. “Oh?”

Robert grimaced, a fake apology if there ever was one. “Sorry, but she has a call with China.”

“You mean Japan, don’t you?” James asked, never missing a beat.

An unsettling hush fell over the entire floor. I’d only been working at Cross for days, but even I knew the unspoken rule: One could never, ever correct the acting CEO, no matter how wrong he was or how often, especially in front of a crowd of his inferiors.

Robert blanched and glanced automatically to his assistant before turning back around. “What?”

James’s eyes locked intently on his brother, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. It wasn’t a judgmental look; it was as if he actually thought his brother had made an honest mistake. “China fell by two points yesterday, but Japan is up by three,” he clarified matter-of-factly. A curious frown flickered across his face as he waited for his brother to make the connection. “Shouldn’t you call Mirosaki and get a jump on those shipping routes before the Western markets open?”

The entire exchange was incredibly quiet, everyone within earshot hung on every word. Madison clenched my elbow in some sort of absentminded death-grip, and down the hall, our supervisor was grasping his phone tightly.

Robert glanced quickly around as a splotchy flush rose up in his neck. “Of course I meant Japan,” he said. “Silly me.”

For a moment, the siblings merely stared at each other.

“I’ll wait then,” James said, finally settling down in a chair in the reception area and opening a magazine with that easy smile still etched on his face.

Chapter 5

LIKE ANY OTHER GIRL, I’d fantasized about the man of my dreams doing something awesome, coming to my rescue and delivering some pivotal, strongly worded speech to tear down a bully or rushing heroically into a burning building or generally just being kick-ass for my sake, but that didn’t happen for me.

Really, none of it was my fault. It was impossible to get a lick of work done with a man like James Cross sitting right across the hall, waiting for me, with one of his strong legs folded over the other. To make matters worse, every other tick of the painfully slow clock, he shot looks at me with those dark, smoldering eyes. I had a hard enough time finding my way back to my own office, let alone navigating a tricky call with Japan, and as if that wasn’t enough drama for one day, the translator just so happened to be out sick.

“No, I understand,” I said, rubbing my eyes with frustration and trying to steer the conversation back on track for the millionth time. “What I’m trying to say is—”

A rush of angry Japanese fired back at me, the same barrage I’d heard for the last two hours. Despite simultaneous emails going back and forth, in broken English and Japanese, we had still gotten absolutely nowhere, and at that point, I was literally on the verge of tears.

Of course Robert gave me this particular call, the most difficult of the week, with his brother sitting there watching. Japan isn’t even my fucking account!

“Mr. Mirosaki, if I could just—”

The shouting recommenced, so loud that I had to hold the phone away from my face. I actually sank several inches down in my chair. It didn’t matter that Madison and I had decided to work a half-day by showing up after lunch; I decided we shouldn’t have come in at all. A throbbing migraine was building behind my eyes, and I knew if I didn’t close the deal, I could kiss any possibility of promotion goodbye, let alone another date with the far-less-cross of the Crosses.

“May I?”

My eyes shot open to see James leaning over my desk. The sight of him took my breath away, as I hadn’t even heard him come inside. His eyes twinkled as he held out his hand, and he looked nothing like a man who’d been waiting in an uncomfortable, gaudy chair for two hours, perusing an ancient edition of some magazine that probably wasn’t even in print anymore. He looked just as bright and fresh as he did when he first stepped off the elevator earlier, with that same impossible light dancing in his eyes.

Without a pause or even much of a pulse, I somehow managed to hand the phone to him, then leaned back and just watched in amazement.

“Akio?” He waited a moment, and then his eyes lit up with a smile. “Moshimoshi!”

What happened next ranked right up there on my list of impossible things. With the ease and grace of a seasoned litigator, James pulled up a chair and proceeded to hammer out the rest of the merger all by himself, on the fly.

And in perfect fucking Japanese to boot.

What was more, he did it all without that smile ever leaving his face. In fact, at several points during the conversation, he said something that caused the investor to laugh so loudly that I could hear it, chuckling drawn out o