A Night with The Billionaire

Seven

Her lips parted open as her eyes avoided his icy gaze. What was he doing here? No. Did she want to ask him for that—when he looked like he was eating her alive?

All of a sudden, coldness washed over her, and the realization hit her hard. He saw her dancing with Jassem in the crowd—oh no!

And she remembered now; she remembered what he told her last—

"Give me a name, and don't make me do it," Nicholas' voice crept coldly down her nape, making her suddenly cringe. She tried to open her mouth—but no, she couldn't even think of something after seeing him. She missed him badly. Oh God, not now, Bella—he's going to roast her alive.

"Isabella..." Her head instinctively looked up at him. She gasped, seeing his emerald eyes flickered with anger. Was feeling excited and happy even normal in this situation?

He let out a sigh, but his jaw clenched still. "I'll f*****g kill him—"

"N-No...please," panic rushed through her as she held his tensed arms. She could feel his chest heave up and up while he stood still. "He didn't do anything; we were just dancing—"

"He f*****g touched you, and his head will be the price." She was frozen, watching his back move away as he headed inside the bar.

Remembering what caused her to get drunk made her blood rise. Her hands absentmindedly took off her heel and threw it ahead, making him stop.

Anger and jealousy were evident in her eyes as she watched him turn around. She had expected his angry expression—but she didn't expect him to be madder.

"Cursed you," she spat madly, taking off the last pair of her heels and throwing it in his direction. But he caught it this time. "What do you think you are to come back here?" Her eyes started warming up, but she held them still.

Meeting his gaze with disbelief in her eyes, "You think...you could show up after leaving me so quickly? And now you're threatening me for something I have never done?" she exclaimed.

Damn these tears for betraying her, but damn herself for being so weak. Why did he come back? She had just decided to forget him. And now he was showing up as if he had never made her life more miserable.

"Leave me alone, don't even bother following me..." she muttered again as he took a step closer.

Her head shook, wiping her tears before she turned her back. She heard him calling her from behind, but she walked faster as she could—barefoot. Yet she had no idea where she was going. Far away from him, maybe. No, to get away from his sight, where everything hurts the most.

"Don't make me madder, Isabella—you wouldn't like it." He called out, following her as she walked faster. A glint of hope came over her when she saw a cab. But before she could take another step, Nicholas got hold of her arms.

He pulled her closer to him, hugging her tightly as she struggled to break free. "Let me go—"

"Enough..." He commanded, his voice laced with authority.

Before she even realized it, her tiny sobs came out. She stopped trying and let her voice be the only sound of the night. She still didn't know why it hurt so much.

"Forgive me. I shouldn't have...fuck, I'm sorry, baby." The way he kissed her head made her whimpering even worse. She buried her face in his chest, letting out every pain and burden she had carried for the past week.

"I never meant to scare you...that's not what I wanted." He mumbled, lifting her face. She trailed off, seeing his distressed expression. Dark circles were beneath his eyes. He looked lost.

"Why did you still come here?" She had been dying to know why—because another part of her was hoping for something impossible.

Nicholas ran his thumb on her cheeks. His eyes looked tired, but he raised his lips to smile—one that could take away her pain, warming and melting her heart. "I'd be in a cell now if I hadn't come back," he whispered. He nudged his nose against hers, and he chuckled afterward.

"God, I missed you so much." That came out of his lips—too loud and clear. But she hated her mind for not digesting it quickly. She suddenly felt like floating in the clouds while her heartbeat was racing to death. He missed her... as she missed him.

"I have a lot to ask you regarding that guy." She was pulled back when he took a peck on her lips. "But first, let's get inside my car. You're going to catch a cold," and he lifted her, carrying her in a bridal style.

And all she did was look up at him, her lips parted as they moved towards his car.

Nicholas opened the door and placed her in the front seat. Before he closed the door, he fixed her hair and kissed her forehead—like a damn princess. This was too much. Was this even real? Surely her face would be red as a tomato now. She didn't like potatoes—did you guys like potatoes? Damn, she felt like her soul was flying in the air.

The thud sound of the closed door made her jump. She watched him sit in the driver's seat as he breathed deeply. Then he looked in her direction, gesturing his hand to her to come over.

"Come here, baby."

She was breathless, slowly approaching his hands as he wrapped his arms around her. He leaned her head over his chest, making her feel his heartbeat racing.

"Say something, please..." What should she do? What should she say? Come on, Belle—don't just be f*****g mute.

"I'm going insane remembering that man holding your hands—"

"He was a friend," she blurted out. "And he already has a girlfriend, so it doesn't make sense... he was planning to introduce her to me," she added.

Silence fell upon them. But she was relieved when his breathing calmed down. "I can consider it, but it doesn't mean you're seeing him again," he replied, making her mouth hang open.

"But... but he was my co-worker," Was he being jealous now? Why did she feel like the corner of her mouth was rising?

"Hmmm, you should stop going to work starting tomorrow." He said, surprising her. "I'll let Ricky handle the matter in your workstation."

Countlessly, her mouth opened and closed as she tried to say something. But he was good at making her speechless. It took her a few seconds to grasp what he meant; by then, his lips captured hers.

She kissed him back, deepening their kiss as her hands journeyed to his nape. Breathlessly, he buried his face in her neck. He was inhaling her scent.

"Do you have anything to ask, Mon amour?" Mon amour? She knew it was French—he sounded like one, but she had no idea what it meant.

"Uh, what does it mean?"

"That's for me to keep," he chuckled, his hand playing with her hair. "Come now; you have three questions."

"Only three?"

"That made it two," she groaned, making him nibble on her neck. It sent a tingling sensation all over her body. But she shook it off, focusing on what to ask him.

She sure did. She had many questions last time.

"I, I saw the news about your engagement..." That's it then, the thing that had been torturing her. The loud beating of her heart added to the nervousness she felt. Making her hands slightly grasp his shirt.

"That's not a question, Mon amour." Wasn't it? How frank did he want her to be?

"W-Was the news real?" Her voice trembled, and so did her lips. Though her nervousness started eating her alive, she managed to remain still.

"That's better, but to answer it, no." He replied.

She blew out her breath, resting her head on his chest when he looked at her. "Are you jealous, Mon amour?" Her head shook, pressing her face against his toned muscles.

Jealous? It was more than that. She spent her week in hell believing that the news was real. Heck. She should let herself be aware that he's not just an ordinary Nicholas Carter. But the Duke of Florence himself.

"You still have one," he spoke again.

Her head looked up and met his gaze. She could see his Adam's apple move when he glanced at her lips. His warm breath bounced on her skin as she swallowed.

"Why did you come back to me?" That came out in a whisper. But enough for both of them to hear. Her heartbeat was even madder this time, poking over her chest from the tension in her muscles. Please... give her a valid reason.

She was close to having a heart attack when his face turned serious. His eyes went blank, staring at her intently. Piece by piece, her hopes started to collapse. But his hands got her face up before she could look down.

He had the sincerest eyes then, "Home," and he answered, his voice above a whisper. Yet they brought life back within her as her eyes came back alive.

Nicholas cupped her face, resting his forehead against hers. And he whispered the thing that made her hopeful again. "No one ever felt like home but you."