The Billionaire Book Club

There are vividly ornate arrangements of flowers in the center of each ivory-linen-covered table, and a pinwheel of gathered silks runs to the peak in the center of the room. In between, the top of the tent is clear, allowing a view to the pitch-black night sky, which is dotted artfully with stars.

As we step out the doors and underneath it, I hear Ruby’s breath catch in her throat.

My hand flexes at her back without command again.

“Okay,” she says softly to herself. “Wow.”

Her feet are frozen, fully paused by the wonder of a Hawkins party, but I know the night—and her wonderment—is far from over.

I spot my sister on the other side of the room, getting a drink, and I take Ruby’s hand to guide her in that direction. Lena’ll be an ally in this crowd, especially for Ruby, so the sooner I introduce the two of them, the better.

Eyes follow us across the room, but I don’t meet any of them. I don’t want to get sucked into a mindless conversation right now, and Ruby’s not ready yet. She needs to acclimate a little more completely.

Lena turns around with a glass of wine in hand just as we arrive, and she starts to frown at the sight of me.

But when my sister notices Ruby next to me, my hand very obviously connected to her in a possessive gesture, Lena’s eyes warm and the corners of her mouth change direction.

“Well, dear brother. How interesting it is to see you.”

I shake my head at her wolfish grin and guide Ruby to a stop beside me. She glances between Lena and me a few times and smiles. “You don’t really look alike at all, and yet, I can still tell you’re brother and sister.”

I laugh, and Lena rolls her eyes. “Great,” she says derisively, to which Ruby laughs wildly.

“Wow. So, it is possible?”

Lena and I both raise our eyebrows in question, and Ruby doesn’t hesitate to explain. “To find a woman who isn’t fond of Caplin Hawkins.”

My sister’s cackle can be heard far and wide as she eagerly reaches out a hand in Ruby’s direction. “It’s really nice to meet you. I don’t even know your name, and I like you already.”

Ruby’s smile is radiant. “Ruby Rockford.” She jerks her head toward me. “I work for him.”

“You work for him, and he actually brought you to one of our outrageous family functions… Interesting,” Lena muses. “Very interesting.”

There’s accusation in my sister’s words. A “But you never bring dates to family parties…” hidden between the syllables.

Shit.

I clear my throat and redirect the conversation to something other than the questions that undoubtedly sit on the tip of my sister’s tongue. “Have you seen Jared and Vicky?”

Lena snorts. “No. So far, I’ve been successful at avoiding them.”

I smirk at her response. Our family dynamics are nothing short of strange, but it’s the reality of the Hawkins clan. We’re certainly not the Brady Bunch, and I can guaran-fucking-tee that fact will never change.

Mostly, our stunted familial relationship has more to do with Vicky’s vapid ways than anything else, but that’s a story for a different day.

Tonight, my focus is laser-sharp and pointed directly at Ruby.

The band starts up across the room, Frank Sinatra’s “Strangers in the Night” bleeding through the crowd, and the goddess beside me starts to sway.

I watch avidly as Ruby’s eyes close softly and contentment slides into the corners of her mouth.

Instead of asking her to dance—and likely having her say no—I put a hand to her back and walk.

“Excuse us a minute,” I say to Lena. She bites her lip and raises her eyebrows, but I don’t stick around to see or hear anything else. Her familiar eyes are filled with far too much suspicion and intrigue for me to give her any time to start her sisterly interrogation.

“Where are we going?” Ruby asks as we make our way to the middle of the room. I don’t say anything, but rather, spin her to a stop in the middle of the dance floor and gently guide her body toward mine.

Which, fuck, her body. It’s warm and soft and feels so damn good that I’m kind of mad at myself for not starting here first. On the dance floor. With Ruby in my arms.

She balks a little, her face falling into a mix of confusion and fear, but she eventually settles with her hands resting lightly on my shoulders.

I sway to the music, much in the same way she was swaying on her own, and rest my hands on her hips. They feel hot and supple beneath my fingertips, and I swallow hard against the rush of longing that washes over me.

I want Ruby Rockford. I’ve wanted her for weeks at this point, but it hasn’t really hit me until now.

I want her badly.