My Dark Romeo: The Unputdownable Billionaire Romance

T here was only one thing worse than awakening from peaceful slumber—and that was being rudely awakened from peaceful slumber by a harem of middle-aged, white-privileged men with enough chins between them to sculpt another full-sized person.

“Is this her?” I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Regrettably.”

That terse reply could only belong to one person.

My eyes fluttered open.

Sure enough, two men I didn’t know hovered at the end of my bed beside another man I knew but wished I didn’t—my fiancé.

I sat up, leaned against my headboard, and rubbed my eyes, yawning.

If I’d hoped Romeo would be disheveled and unrested, having spent several nights away from his home, I was gravely mistaken.

He appeared as fresh as the gum he now chewed, with a crisp light-gray suit, powder-blue dress shirt, and Panerai timepiece.

He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost six in the evening.”

I drew a hand to my collarbone. “Goodness gracious, you can read the time. What other distinctive qualities must be hidden in you, my darling?”

The look he launched at me could freeze the arctic back to its pre-global warming state.

I glanced between his two companions.

I already knew who they were. Daddy had texted me about them. A message that remained unanswered, despite frequent pleas to return his calls.

I sank back into my mattress, shutting my eyes. “Well, this has been fun. Don’t forget to turn off the light on your way out.”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“In the middle of our conversation?”

“Was that a conversation?” I shimmied the comforter up my shoulders. “As I’m sure you remember, you once accused me of having no dreams. Can’t dream without sleeping.” I yawned, shooing them with a wave. “Well, off to chase my dreams. Tootles.”

Romeo jerked the duvet off me. “This is Jasper Hayward, my lawyer. And this is Travis Hogan, your lawyer. We’re signing a prenuptial agreement this evening.”

He sauntered to the windows, drawing the curtains open in a sharp movement. Even the sunset singed my hooded eyes.

“You hired a lawyer for me.” I slipped out of bed in my six-day-old nightgown, strutting to him. “Why, that’s so sweet of you. I’m sure he’ll have my best interests in mind.”

Romeo sneered down at me. “Your father approved the contents of the agreement this morning. Rest assured, it is on par with standard prenuptial agreements.”

His words were so reserved and careful, I wanted to shake him. Grab him by the suit and rattle him until his inhibitions rolled down the floor like pennies.

“Relax, darling. I trust you.” I advanced to the beverage cart, pouring myself a few fingers of whisky from the decanter, knowing he wouldn’t approve. “So far, you haven’t done me wrong.”

If sarcasm were poison, he’d be dead five times over by now.

“Day drinking.” He pursed his lips. “Dare I ask if this is a habit of yours?”

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d drunk in my life, having grown up under such strict religious rules.

But he didn’t need to know that.

I sighed, swirling the drink. “Lighten up. Could be worse. I could be a coke addict.” I took a sip. “Unfortunately, coke smells like nothing. Can you believe it? That was five hundred bucks I’m never getting back. Hopefully, I’ll have more luck with crack.”

Jasper hacked out coughs. Travis patted him on the back, looking at anything but me.

Judging by Romeo’s dispassionate glare, I knew he’d begun to truly regret his decision to marry me, just as I knew it was too late for us to back out of the arrangement now.

“Clothe yourself.” His eyes catalogued every stain I’d acquired in Potomac. “You look like a dumpster diver.”

“Clothes?” I frowned, playing dumb. “But, baby, I have no clothes. Remember we had to rush to the airport so we could be together? I didn’t have time to pack.”

“The credit card I gave you wasn’t ornamental.”

“It wasn’t?” I shrieked, widening my eyes. “But it looks so pretty on the kitchen table. Anywho, I was too busy pining over you to use it.”

The two lawyers glanced between us in confusion.

Jasper readjusted his briefcase. “Would you like a few moments?”

“Yes,” Romeo barked out at the same time I raised the drink in the air, announcing, “Moments? I would love a whole lifetime alone with this dreamboat.”

Jasper and Travis fled, tossing awkward looks at one another.

With just me and Romeo in the confined space, I felt smaller.

Not as brave. Nonetheless,

I stepped forward, coming toe to toe with him. The sooner he realized I’d make his life hell on Earth, the sooner he’d let me go.

“Where were you, baby?” I tacked on a thick, deep-fried Georgian accent I knew would drive him mad, lifting my hand to drag the damp glass across his cheek. “I wanted us to go over wedding brochures. I’m thinking peonies for flowers. Glitter-themed. You’d look real good in a sequin suit. Summer in Portofini. To honor your Italian heritage, you know.”

“Portofino.” He grabbed the whisky from my hand, gliding it between my breasts. Delicious shivers broke over my skin. “The ceremony will take place at the end of the month in von Bismarck’s backyard, and the guest list is already locked, curated by both our families.” His cutting, harsh words made me dizzy. There was a date. And a place. “You can have your peonies—and your sequins. If you think a bad suit will veer me off track from my plan, you haven’t been paying attention.”

He tipped the glass down, letting a few drops of whisky run between my breasts, slide down my stomach, and disappear into my underwear through my gown.

It was erotic, maddening, and infuriating all at once.

I breathed harder just so the tips of my nipples brushed against his chest each time I exhaled.

“Can’t wait,” I choked out.

“Good. Here’s another event to fawn over. You’re coming to my parents’ shortly after we sign the prenup, where you will be on your best behavior, which, for you, possibly means using utensils and refraining from sniffing people’s behinds as a way of hello.”

I stared at him with all the hatred in the world, shaking with rage. His complete indifference undid me. He was the coldest, meanest man I’d ever met.

His eyes snapped from my face to my nightgown. My chest heaved. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples pearled, erect from the adrenaline rush.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A sadistic glimmer flickered through his pale eyes. “Such a basic creature.”

Through the satin fabric, he ran the frosty rim of the tumbler over the tight bud, raising his phone to his ear with his free hand.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t even breathe.

The sensation was so intense and incredible, my whole body turned to clay. With this simple touch, it felt like he owned every inch of me.

Heat swirled below my belly button. My breasts felt heavy, full, and sensitive, begging to be cupped and played with.

“Cara?” Romeo drew a lazy circle around my nipple with the glass.

I resisted the urge to plaster myself against him. To beg for more.

For the millionth time, I cursed my father for my sheltered upbringing. If only I’d been less innocent about these things, Romeo wouldn’t have such a strong grip on me.

“Head over to Tyson’s Galleria and get me every single item for women from Yves Salomon, Celine, Burberry, and Brunello Cucinelli’s latest season. Size small.”

He set down the whisky, reaching for me.

His entire hot palm covered my right breast. “Bra size: 32B.”

Spot on. Dang it.

Grabbing my hip bone, he spun me so my back faced him. I felt his eyes on my ass.

His hand slipped beneath the material of my robe from behind, stroking my bare chest. “Pants size: four.”

“Six, asshole.”

A weird tingling feeling between my legs made my skin hum with expectation. The thought to resist crossed my mind, but I knew if I did, I might never explore this pleasure again.

Cara said something I couldn’t decipher through the phone.

I burned with shame. He was talking to another woman while playing with my body like it was his personal toy, yet I loved the way he made me feel too much to stop it.

“Short boot for pants. She is the height of a garden gnome.” Romeo pinched my nipple, causing my knees to buckle.

I bit down on a moan. I had the distinct feeling he was taunting me sexually just to prove to me he could. Another one of his control games.

He pressed his hard-on against my ass, squeezed my breast, and trailed his hand from my nipple to my neck, scooping it and tilting my head up to face him. “What’s your shoe size, Shortbread?”

My shoe size? I couldn’t even remember my middle name with his cock pulsating between my butt cheeks.

Think. You know that one.

“Six point five.” My voice came out thick and raspy.

He released my throat at once, stepping back, completely unaffected by my body. By my readiness for him. “Six point five. Kindly deliver all items within two hours. Time is of the essence.”

He killed the call.

I spun to face him, disappointed in myself for letting him strum my body like an instrument. Again.

Hadn’t I learned anything from the debutante ball?

“Tonight, you will present yourself to my family as a proper, levelheaded lady.” He snatched the Macallan M by its neck, confiscating it. “If you succeed in fooling them into thinking you are, in fact, marriage material, I’ll reward you accordingly and relieve you of your pent-up sexual frustration.”

“You mean what you did just now was to blackmail me into good behavior so we can have sex tonight?”

The whiplash his last sentence gave me singed my cheeks.

He really thought I’d be his little sex doll just because the tricks he used on my body provoked my curiosity.

He made a disapproving face.

Lord, so stuck-up.

“We’re not wedded quite yet, Miss Townsend. What I alluded to was oral favors.”

“Oral favors?” I scrunched my nose, noticing he spoke as if he’d just strolled out of the worn pages of a historical romance. That just so happened to be my least favorite genre. “And why do you talk like you fled the cast of Bridgerton?”

There was no point in telling him there’d be no oral-giving lessons, no cordial dinner, and no suitable fiancée tonight.

“Our lawyers must be running out of patience.” He sipped whisky straight from the bottle. “Frankly, so am I.”

Don’t worry, honey, I thought as I breezed past him, refusing to look distraught. After I’m done with you, you’ll be running, period.