Wrecked: A Dark Billionaire Romance (The Billionaires Secret Club Book 1)
Wrecked: A Dark Billionaire Romance: Chapter 18

Where was Chrissy?

I panicked for a second, then had to remind myself that she was here with me at the mansion, in the same room with me at this godforsaken party. I’d been excited to host, but now, halfway into the party, I resented it, and all the people attending. I wanted to be alone with her.

After what we’d just shared, I needed to be alone with her. I had shown her with my body how I felt about her, how attached I was, how necessary she was to me.

Mentally I checked my calendar. I would clear my schedule to make sure we spent tomorrow evening alone together.

I’d never imagined I could let go of my need to dominate and just make love with a woman. Upstairs in my office, the dark, all-consuming drive to dominate wasn’t present. The impulse was still there; it was a part of me. But it wasn’t necessary, like it had been before. It felt more like something to be savored on a date night, instead of something I couldn’t live without.

Perhaps because Chrissy had accepted me for who I was. She genuinely seemed to care about me, and wanted to get to know me.

When I’d seen her, I wanted her. And when she’d confessed that she’d loved me, I had wanted to say it back. I hadn’t, not yet.

But I would.

Soon.

A delighted laugh sounded from across the room.

I turned to see Chrissy, glass in hand, smiling at one of my investors as the investor asked the dreaded ‘how did you meet Richard’ question.

Chrissy, who had struggled just to survive, stood in a couture ball gown, hair up, makeup perfectly done, shoulders back, poised as if she’d been making small talk with millionaires her entire life. “I’m a student at Cal State LA, and Richard was on campus for a fundraiser.”

Then predictably, the investor asked Chrissy about her major.

Chrissy cheerfully described her classes, going into detail about a prosecutor. The investor knew the prosecutor socially, and that launched them into another conversation.

The idea had been Chrissy’s. She refused to say we met in a bar, and we weren’t allowed to talk about the club.

It had been evident early on that Chrissy didn’t need any help with her manners. She knew how to hold herself, and how to make small talk.

As I’d realized earlier in the day, her behavior at this party didn’t matter to me. But the fact that she could handle this sort of social event with no training was a marvel. It had taken me years to pull it off, and I’d had non-stop guidance from both of my parents. I was so proud of her.

I groaned. I did not want to endure this party, even if she was nearby. I wanted her all to myself. I put my champagne down and went to her. “Would you like to dance? It’s a tradition for the man of the house to dance with the woman of the house.”

“I would love to.”

Jean had done an outstanding job with her hair and makeup, but even as I admired Chrissy’s refined, polished look, I missed her natural beauty I’d gotten to see this morning on the sailboat.

She held her hand out and I took it. I put my other hand on her back. The symphony was still playing classical music. It sounded like they were going with the more popular waltz songs, one composed by Johann Strauss. “I can show you how to waltz.”

“Oh, I know how.” She grinned. “I see you raising your eyebrows. We learned at the Boys and Girls Club. I went every day. I signed up for every free class. I learned the Waltz, the Viennese Waltz and the Tango.”

“Well. In that case.” Would she ever stop surprising me? I began the steps and she followed, in sync with me. We picked up speed and I began to add in the extra flourishes that beginners couldn’t do. As I expected, she performed each one as if she did them everyday.

The guests had stopped talking. The room went silent except for the orchestra; all eyes were on us. As the dance drew to an end, the guests begin to clap.

“They’re clapping like we’re royalty.”

“We were pretty good.”

While the guests had clapped for my parents who had been good dancers, they’d never commanded the attention of the crowd of guests quite like this.

As I held her close I could smell the expensive perfume I’d bought for her, and the scent of her coconut shampoo. And beneath that, I could smell my own cologne. I squeezed the bridge of my nose, just for a second, to center myself. I could not think about why she smelled like me while we were out on the dance floor. “Want to go again? What’s your preference?”

“Viennese Waltz.”

I took a second to tell one of the staff members to inform the orchestra to stay with the classical music.

“I hope I can keep up with you while we’re doing the turns. I’ll do my best to get this right. I usually only dance once, and then I’m done.”

“We’ll take it slower than it’s supposed to go,” she said with a smile. “There’s no one here to award us points. We’ll just pretend speed isn’t a factor.”

I exhaled. “You mentioned the Boys and Girls Club before. How did you come to be there? Was it after school care?” I wanted to hear more about her time there.

“When I was six, one of my counselors at school found out I was home alone all the time. They arranged for me to go there after school; they said it was a grant, but now I think they probably paid for it. I learned to swim there. I trained as a lifeguard too. And after I learned all the dances, I helped teach the younger students.”

We stepped back onto the floor, and began to turn. “I had no idea they offered a ballroom dancing program.”

“It’s not a mandated program like swimming lessons. One of the directors said the kids on the other side of town would be going to cotillon, so why shouldn’t we do the same thing?”

That had been me and Travis, dressing up for cotillion, a world away from Chrissy and her struggles.

I had been right. I was struggling to keep up. All the rotations required in this form of dance were a bit much, even going at a snail’s pace. My head was spinning, but Chrissy was unfazed. She continued her steps, her arm held high and her shoulders back. Her posture was as regal as her dress.

“Tell me about it.” This program sounded like it had been an integral part of Chrissy’s life. I wanted to make sure the Boys and Girls Club had all the resources they needed to continue helping kids like her. If she was comfortable with it, we could brainstorm and decide how to best support it, whether it was through funding more programs like the ballroom dancing classes, or we if it would be better to create a scholarship fund.

“We didn’t usually dress up. For the final night, donors would bring in second hand dresses and we could choose one. They were always nice because they’d only been worn once. But they weren’t what I’d have chosen.”

Watching her, I had to admit, Chrissy’s pink gown was the perfect style for the turns required. “What would you have chosen?’

“This. This is the best gown I’ve ever seen.”

Finally, the song ended and a normal slow dance song came on. The guests clapped vigorously for us once again, several of them even cheering. Luckily at the sound of a more popular song, other couples began to file onto the dance floor. “I’m glad you like it.” I pulled her in close enough to speak into her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about earlier.”

Her skin went pink, all the way down to her chest.

“Your skin matches the dress.”

She poked me with her elbow. “Now you’re making it worse.”

She was in such a good mood. I was really treasuring our playful time together, but I had to address this, or I was going to lose my mind. “I need to speak to you about something important,” I said. “I should probably wait until we’re done here, but I’m impatient when it comes to you.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at me with her bright blue eyes. She hooked her arms around my neck and stared up at me.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’d like to end the trial.”

Confusion clouded her face, then disappointment. I must have misspoken. Surely she wouldn’t be upset that I wanted to continue after everything we’d shared? Oh. I hadn’t been clear. “I meant that I would like to end the trial and proceed to the next part of the relationship. Where you move in with me. I know you need some time to think about it.”

I kept my hands at the small of her back even thought what I really wanted was to grab her and carry her back to my room. “Do you think you could be happy here?”

“I don’t need to think it over. I know the answer is yes.” Her forehead wrinkled as she studied me. “But what about my sister?”

I could have sagged with relief, but pulled myself together. If I hadn’t been in front of our guests, I would have. “Once she’s well enough to come home, we can make a room for her here, and she can live with us. All of her follow-up medical care will be covered.” I wanted to make sure there was no reason for Chrissy to say no.

“I don’t know. I can’t disrupt her life if it’s not going to be long term.”

“The contract is for one year, unless one of us breaks it. I can make it impossible for me to break it, if you’d like. That would give her stability, and you security, to know that she’ll be provided for. Even if something went wrong between us, which I don’t anticipate, the two of you would remain here for the full year. No matter what,” I said, hoping that would appeal to her. “And you’ll still receive the monthly allowance. At the end of the year, you’ll have $480,000 in cash, even if you’re sick of me.”

“That is so generous of you, Richard. I would love nothing more.” She leaned up to kiss me right on the lips. “I still need to protect her from our mother.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll call one of my contacts. We’ll hire the best family lawyer that specializes in atypical adoptions, and we’ll start the process of getting your mother’s rights terminated.”

“You’d do that?”

“There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Chrissy Evans.”

She blinked a few times then fanned herself with her hand. She opened her mouth a few times but didn’t say anything.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m trying not to cry.”

Was there something I was missing? Why was she upset? “Why do you need to cry?”

“Because I’m just so happy that I don’t know what to do.”

I hugged her close. That was an answer I could live with.