Page 5 of Three Suave Billionaires and a Fake Chauffeur

"Oh, darn it," she says and slaps her forehead. "I forgot to pick her up. It's fine. We'll just collect Ms. Raj on our way to the Hudson Valley."

Genevieve Raj was supposed to be our date for the evening. No one enters the Tolaj mansion without a beautiful woman on their arm. Of course we could be the exception, and no questions would be asked, but we’d like to respect the man’s wishes, even though we can completely annihilate him in the blink of an eye. Genevieve was very familiar with the Albanian's world and was the perfect date. Now she's not here.

"Come, we better get going," she says, trying to shoo us out the door as if we were five.

"She lives in the opposite direction, Ms. Applegate, and we're already late," Peter says, although the solution forms in our heads all at the same time. Somehow, letting her out of our sight seems to be the last thing we want to do.

We stalk toward her. She takes a step back, then hits the desk. I pick up a lock of her glossy hair and bring it to my nose. Vanilla. She's breathing so heavily; the pulse at her throat beats just as hard. Her skin gleams, and the scent of her makes our blood hot.

"I think you're going to have to do as our date, Ms. Applegate."

"Wha... what?" she stammers, her lips quivering so prettily.

Chapter Four

––––––––

Lucy

So this really can't be happening to me. Everything, every single thing that could go wrong did. And my sweet innocent brother is lying in a hospital bed with stitches in his head and his wrist in a cast. And I'm here, continuing to create havoc without meaning to at all. For once, I just want one thing to go right.

No such luck.

Also, how am I supposed to think in the presence of these three billionaires? I'm shocked my legs are still working; otherwise, I'd have melted into a puddle right here on the floor of their study. My nipples—peaks I forgot existed in my pledge to get my life in order—harden and ache like I didn't know was possible. The center between my thighs does the same thing, and it's foreign to me. Now, when I feel my panties dampen, I let out a gasp that has them looking at me with curiosity in their eyes.

I promised myself I would get into a nice, healthy relationship once I had my B&B up and running, whether it was a steady one or a mutually beneficial one, but now my body seems to be craving something... three somethings altogether. Oh dear. "I'm turning into a sex fiend," said the sad virgin.

In person, they are even larger than life, larger than my entire world. The definition of tall, dark, and handsome started here with them.

Peter Mills, with his sharp, angular features, a jawline that is perfectly symmetrical, and the coolest blue eyes I'd ever seen on any person, has an aura of such dominance around him, he could make anyone kneel before him with just a look.

Warren Haynes, instantly more approachable on the surface with his square jaw, thick-fringed green eyes, and wavy, silky hair, has a scar that runs across his eyebrow as if it were a warning not to mistake his calm demeanor for always being amenable.

Max McKenzie is so unbelievably gorgeous; when his face breaks into that killer smile of his, it's enough to rob anyone of their breath, but then when he narrows his gray eyes, shivers run down my spine.

How can three of the most delicious-looking men be in the same room as me? How is this possible? It's possible because my sudden appearance in their lives is nefarious, I remind myself, and immediately I'm brought back down to earth and dropped into a deep chasm of doom. I'm so fucked. I'm so, so, so fucked, and so is Dean now. Crap.

While I stand there wringing my hands together, unconsciously still scanning the shelves and the cabinets and the desk in the room, Warren is talking into the phone.

I only register what was said after the fact. He told someone on the other side of the line he had a wardrobe issue for a girl and that they had to send over someone in fifteen minutes. Clearly, the other person complied because he thanked them and put his phone away.

How do I get out of this?

"Okay, look. I can't be your date. I will ruin your entire evening," I begin.

"You already ruined the entire evening, Ms. Applegate. This is you rectifying said error," Peter says, his voice deep and low, and the butterflies in my stomach clash into each other.

"Yes, but no one would believe I'm your date, and they would think there was something wrong with you for having me at your side, and everyone will talk about it, and it'll destroy your aesthetic for life, and you won't recover from it."

If that doesn't deter them, nothing will. Now I just have to find another way to get back into their house. Dean had told me that once they were on the Tolaj property, the gates would be closed, and no one could leave until after the party. That ruled out dropping them off, driving back to their house, and then driving back to pick them up again.

"I don't think you have to worry about our aesthetic, Ms. Applegate," Max says with that nerve-wracking, cell-melting smile of his.

Oh boy.

I need to look on the bright side. I'll still be in their house; I just have to make sure I get another chance. Feeling a bit better altogether, I offer them a sweet smile.

"In that case, I'll be happy to be your replacement date for the evening."