Courted (How Not To Be Seduced By Billionaires: Book 2) (8 page)

            And I was, like, too wet to be true right now.

            Constantijin’s hair was brushed up in a slick style. It should have made him look totally sleazy and old, but no, darn it, he just looked nobler – like a freaking European prince. He was all Old World glamour, and his blazer even had coattails, its beautiful cut emphasizing the impressive width of his shoulders and his height.

“Mom, this is the woman I’ve been telling you about – Yanna – and her friend George. They are both the new executives in our marketing department.”

I could feel Constantijin willing me to look at him, but I resisted the magnetic pull of his gaze. I hated how even after everything that he had done, I still felt drawn to him, a moth addicted to getting burnt time and time again.

“George, Yanna, may I present to you my mother, Margaret Kastein?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Kastein,” George and I murmured in unison.

Constantijin’s mother was beautiful, an older and feminine version of him in fact. She had a stately air about her, her age only adding a timeless quality to her beauty. There was speculation in her bright blue eyes when she turned to me after speaking with George.

George suddenly craned his neck. “Oh, I think my friend just arrived. Excuse me.” He disappeared not an instant later, the traitor.

"You really did well there, my dear," Margaret – or Marge as she prettily asked us to call her - said with a warm smile. She was quite petite, and her stole, made of snowy-white faux fur, which matched her black figure hugging gown, made her look even smaller. But when she looked at me, I knew right away this woman was the type to have no problems at all wearing the pants in the family.

            And since she
was
our Chairman, she probably did.

            Realizing that she was waiting for an answer, I stammered, “I’m just honored Charli thought I could handle the job.”

Before I knew it, she had taken my arm and we were strolling toward the outer edges of the party, away from the crowd. Constantijin followed behind us, lagging a few steps, and I did my best to ignore the way he continued staring at me.

“You were a natural on stage.”

            “Umm, t-thanks.”

            I had a feeling we were walking aimlessly, but who was I to say that? For a moment, I wondered if this was a prelude to a pay raise. She could be, like, so impressed of my hosting duties that she was adding a zero to my salary, never mind if hosting had nothing to do with marketing research.

            But then I realized that if she did promote me or give me a pay hike, it could very well be due to Constantijin. What if he felt guilty and thought this was a way to say sorry?

            Disappointment made my shoulders droop a little.

            “Is something wrong?”

            God, she was intuitive. Forcing a smile, I said, “I’m just giddy. And relieved that I survived hosting your birthday.” I froze then added in a rush, “Oh my God, I’m sorry I forgot to greet you again. Happy birthday, Mrs. Kastein.”

            “It’s okay and Marge, please.” Her eyes twinkled. “But you can call also call me ‘Mom’ if you want.”

            My jaw dropped.

            She let out a laugh, which sounded too gusty for someone who looked so refined. Without even looking over her shoulder, she told her son, “Leave us for a while, my dear. I will call you when I am done.”

            “Mother,” I heard Constantijin say from behind in a warning tone.

            Marge’s voice became steely. “Leave.”

            I twisted my head around and was stunned to see Constantijin actually leaving. Yes, that made it official then. Marge was definitely the boss in their family. When I looked back, Marge was smiling prettily again. But this time, I was so not fooled.

            “Ma’am?” I asked very respectfully.

            She beamed. “Oh, darling, you have no reason to be afraid of little ole me.”

            I silently begged to differ.

            “You and my son are at odds with each other, yes?”

            Who knew Constantijin would be such a tattletale?

            Coughing, I said vaguely, “Umm…”

            She smirked.

            Oh my God, so this was where Constantijin inherited his smirking ways!

            “Dear,” she sighed, “there is something I have to tell you about my son.”

            Something in her tone made me stiffen.

            “He’s an ass. I love him, he’s my son, but he’s an ass.”

           
Okaaaaay
. Totally did not see that coming, but hey, if she wanted to call Constantijin the A-word then I didn’t have any problem with that.

            She sighed again. “It’s my fault, really.” She glanced around, her eyes looking for Constantijin. He stood opposite us, at the other end of the ballroom, a glass of some dark-colored liquor in his hands. When he saw us looking at him, his head cocked to the side in askance, one eyebrow lifting.

            “Maybe someday, when you are with him longer, I’ll tell you why. I probably have to, one way or another.”

            Her words were so cryptic I couldn’t help wondering what she and Constantijin seemed to be hiding from the whole world. Margaret suddenly lifted her hand and waved.

            In a few seconds, Constantijin was at our side and Margaret was telling him to take me to the dance floor.

            Whoa!

            “I…” I couldn’t really say ‘no’, not with Margaret smiling at us expectantly and everyone looking our way.

Constantijin grinned at his mother.

She answered with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

            And then Constantijin was whisking me to the dance floor, his hands spanning my waist as the DJ played a slow jam mix of something by One Republic and Ne-Yo.

            I stood stiffly in the circle of his arms.          

"Look at me, Yanna."

"No.” I forced myself to smile when I realized that a lot of people were looking at us. Acting stiff was expected – he was
the
CEO and I was
not
- but looking angry meant having something more than what's right between us.

            But God, it felt so incredibly good to be back in his arms. Too good.

            Constantijin said harshly, “I’m sorry.”

            I kept my gaze stubbornly over his shoulders even though my stomach twisted at the ragged sincerity in his voice.

            “I fucked up.”

           
Can’t believe him, can’t listen to him, can’t---

           
“I talked to my mom about you. I told her everything.”

            My head jerked up at that. “You
what
?”

           
His eyes bored into me. “You didn’t want to talk to me, and I didn’t know how to reach out to you.”

            “B-but why your mom?”

            “Do I look like the kind to have a platonic girl friend?”

            He had a point, but…I glared up at him. “Seriously, your
mom
?”

            Constantijin bit out, “It was either my mom or Charli. Do you prefer I had talked to your boss instead?”

            Darn it. He had a point with that, too.

            Constantijin seemed visibly struggling to find the next words to say. It was rare for him to be lost for words, and I couldn’t help but stare at him even as my whole body prickled in acute awareness of his nearness, his scent, his very hardness.

            “Yanna---I never had a relationship in my whole life.”

            I tripped – or would have if he hadn’t swiftly caught me, his hands tightening around my waist. My eyes were locked with his, which blazed with emotion. “Never?” I whispered.

            He said roughly, “There was a girl I dated briefly when I was in my teens, but other than that---I never found a reason to tie myself to one woman, never been interested in being faithful.” His grip tightening even more, he said, “I hated how you always seemed to have the upper hand between us, never giving me a straight answer---”

            “Because you were asking things you didn’t have the right to ask!” I half shrieked.

            Constantijin coughed.

            That alone was enough to remind me we had an audience, and a very interested one at that.

            Lowering my voice belatedly, I added, “
Sir
.”

            His eyes laughed at me, and the secretive, wicked grin I so loved reappeared on his lips when I made a face at him. “People are going to talk about us tomorrow,” I muttered. “I should leave now---”

           
“No
.” The laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced by a furious glitter. “Don’t go.” His hands tightening around my waist, Constantijin muttered, “We still haven’t talked about us.”

            “Constantijin---”

            “I’m sorry I fucked up. I can say it again and again, but it won’t change things. Give me another chance and it will be different this time.”

            I so badly wanted to believe him, but he’s already hurt and left me hanging
twice.
Shaking my head, I mumbled, "I forgive you, Constantijin, but---”

            “One more chance, Yanna. That’s all I ask.”

           
No, no, no,
my head shrilly protested, but it was too late. Constantijin’s gotten under my skin again and he’s found his way back to my heart. “Just give me time and space to think,” I said.

            “Fine.”

            Just when I thought that was all he was going to say – and that was frankly disappointing – Constantijin spoke again. “But I want you to know…it’s not just sex between us, Yanna.” The music we were swaying to switched tempos, and he suddenly whirled me around. As he did, he said, “You
matter
to me.”