Love Unbound (A Steamy Billionaire Romance) Page 3

  I leave clutching my half of the paperwork that could mean a new future for me. No more seedy dressing rooms or bars. No more pressure from Jimmy to show everything to a group of drunken men. I am walking on air.

  But not just because of the contract. I smile because of him, Ashton Lynch, and the memory of his touch.

  He helped me on with my coat, and as I put it on, he gathered my hair in his big hands and laid it outside the collar, a shiver running down my neck where he touched my skin, making me burn. Then he hung the scarf around my neck and I looped it around. He accompanied me all the way to the door of the elevator in silence as if deep in thought, a guiding hand once more on my back, burning through the thick material of my coat.

  “Until later, Miss Bronson,” he said as I got in the elevator. “Are you sure you don't want a car to take you home?”

  “No, it's fine.” I needed to walk for a while so I could process this whole thing. “Goodbye Mr. Lynch.” I smiled at him though I was far from feeling easy in his presence.

  Despite how uneasy he made me feel, I know I want to see Ashton Lynch again. I want him to undress me with his eyes and his hands. Am I crazy? I think, I am. I want to hug the thought of him to myself.

  But first I have to call the club. I've signed the contract with the Lynch Agency and I can't risk performing as Vix again. Jimmy just about blows a gasket on the phone when I tell him I can't go on tonight. I know I'm letting him down at the last minute but he'd have to cope if I was sick so he'll just have to get over it.

  “I don't care what fucking opportunity you think you have but you had better get your ass in here right now or I will come and haul it around here for you,” he says, cutting the call.

  I know I'll have to go and see him. I need money to tide me over and a whole week's wages are due today.

  I call in on Jessie first in our dressing room. She's getting ready for her act.

  “It's like an oven in here.” I unbutton my coat and unwind my scarf, reluctant to take it off after Ashton Lynch was the one to put it around my neck but it's roasting and I shove it into my bag. It's usually cold in the dressing room—the radiator has been broken forever.

  “Jimmy finally had someone fix the heating. Maybe it got through his thick skull that purple goose flesh is not a good look for his dancers,” Jessie says.

  “Tom missed you at the coffee shop today. He was really mad.” I tell her.

  “Not as mad as Jimmy is with you. You should have heard him after you called to tell him you wouldn't do your Vix routine tonight. Sorry I missed my shift at the Bakewell. I slept right through the alarm.”

  “Dirk again?”

  “Yes, Dirk.” She grins. “But lucky you escaping all this. Did you get a better offer? Was it that card from last night?”

  “Ashton Lynch left it.”

  “Ashton Lynch signed you up? THE Ashton Lynch, as in the Lynch agency Lynch. You're kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “Bloody hell, Vix. You really fell on your feet.”

  “You've heard of him?”

  “Girl, where have you been? He's only like the top movie and celebrity agent in London.”

  “You know I've never been to a movie audition. I just want to dance.”

  “Fucking hell, I've only been trying for five years to get an audition like that and you get one without even trying.”

  I can tell she's put out by the news but she's putting a brave face on it. I can't blame her. I would feel the same if she got an audition to dance in a ballet production out of the blue.

  “Sorry. I'd better go and face the music with Jimmy.”

  “Better you than me,” she says. “Good luck with that.”

  ***

  Jimmy is in his office. I'm determined not to leave without my money even if I have to wait all night for him to get the takings from the bar to pay me.

  “Are you fuckin' kidding me?” he says when I try to explain again. “Some pretty boy from a top notch agency calls and you go running, like you'll ever have a chance to make it big time. The rabble like you here, right enough. No one is saying they don't, but you—a movie star? Don't make me laugh. Look at you! Just look at you.”

  He pulls me in front of the mirror he keeps in his office for admiring his muscles or something. “Miss ordinary. Without the stage get-up, passable at best. Get that fucking body stocking on if you have to wear the bloody thing and get out on that stage. I won't tell you again. And perform the dance of your fucking life or you'll know about it.”

  “No, I can't go out there. Ashton Lynch said if I did I could forget the contract.”

  “So you said. You're like a broken fucking record. What does pretty boy know about running a fucking show? I can't just whisk some girl who likes showing her tits and ass to the crowd out of thin air with five minutes notice. Just get out there, baby. He'll never know. Dance for a few nights! I'll find someone else next week to fill your slot and then you can do what the fuck you like, but you're going on tonight.”

  “I'm not going on. Forget it, Jimmy.”

  “You fucking are if I have to pour you into the costume myself.”

  He grabs my coffee shop uniform by the neck and yanks. Three buttons come off. We are both stunned looking at them rolling on the floor and then a leer comes over his face.

  “Don't touch me again, Jimmy. I mean it.” I pull the front of my uniform and coat together. “Pay me the money you owe me and I'm going.”

  “If you want to get paid, put the fucking costume on.” His spit lands on my cheek. He's towering over me. I know he's not messing around. Jimmy has never hit me but I've seen him sock one guy in the mouth when he was riled and another in the stomach. He's scaring me, but there is still no way I'm going on that stage.

  “Out of my way, Jimmy. I'm going home. You can give my money to Jessie.”

  “Fucking bitch. Get into that costume or you can forget that money.”

  I try to push past him but he grabs my arm and wrenches it back, pulling at my clothes. Another button pops from my uniform, then the doorman comes in probably to see what the racket is. I get away out of Jimmy's grasp and I'm out of there—shaking, my legs almost collapsing under me as I get outside. I need to get away before Jimmy comes out after me but my legs are like jelly and refusing to move the way I want them to. The side door of the club bursts open with a crash and Jimmy comes out…

  CHAPTER 7

  Ash

  I gave her a simple instruction, but I've no idea if Victoria Bronson will comply. I could have had someone else check things out but somehow I am outside the Tempest club before the start of the show. I can't help wanting to find out if she did as she was told before anyone else knows. Miller will wait for me with the car.

  I expect obedience in all things from new signings. Big stars have enough leeway to get in all sorts of trouble. It's what keeps the paparazzi in work and celebrities in the news. But a new star in the making? Everything is critical then. There's no point destroying a career before it takes off. That means testing them early with something they find difficult to agree to and seeing how they handle it.

  I want Victoria to obey me. There's no way on earth I want to cancel her contract. On the other hand I can't help a ripple of anticipation at the delicious possibility of her disobedience and seeing her perform that sensual erotic dance again. The idea of taking her over my lap and punishing those rounded ass cheeks of hers for not following my instructions comes unbidden into my mind.

  Of course, Victoria will make up her own mind whether to go on stage or not no matter what I want. She won't know I'm checking up on her. Hell, I didn't even know I'd call at the club tonight on my way home until I found myself telling Miller to pull up and wait outside. But why am I kidding myself? There was no doubt I'd be here.

  I get out of the car and head for the entrance, but a squeal from the alleyway down the side of the club stops me in mid step. Is that her? I'm down there like a fucking superhero on steroids. I must be out of m
y mind.

  Some gorilla of a guy has Victoria in his grasp pulling her arms behind her, her coat and coffee shop uniform gaping open. I don't think before I'm in there knocking the lights out of him. He yells and lets her go before coming after me. He has a few pounds on me but mostly around the gut and I have the advantage of being taller. I'm no stranger to the gym, but brawling in alleyways is not my thing. Even so, he doesn't stand a chance. The way he had a hold of Victoria made me see red. I hear her gasping as I land another punch on the guy's chest and he kicks back. Fuck that! I can give as good as I get and knock him down. By the time he gives up, and rolls away, getting up and raising his hands in defeat I know he'll have a few bruises to nurse, maybe a black eye. My ribs will be a bit painful tomorrow too but I'll live.

  ***

  Victoria is clutching her uniform and coat. She can't go home like that, all shaken up.

  “You're coming with me.” I pick her up and carry her to my car.

  Miller still doesn't bat an eyelid when he opens the door for us, as if I carry women who have been attacked to the car every day of the week.

  “What are you doing? I need to get home,” she says.

  “I'm taking you back to my place. You've had a shock. I can't just leave you like that. What were you doing there anyway? I said you couldn't perform tonight and I meant it.”

  “Were you spying on me?”

  “You're a new signing. I have to know you'll do what I say.”

  “I didn't sign into slavery Mr. Lynch and for your information I was there to tell my manager, Jimmy, I couldn't go on.”

  “And that was Jimmy? Great company you keep.”

  “You weren't exactly Mr. Law Abiding citizen yourself.”

  “Lucky for you I wasn't.”

  “He wouldn't have done anything. Not really.”

  “It didn't look that way to me.”

  “He's my ex. He wants me to give him another chance. He was just annoyed about the show tonight.” But she looks like she doesn't believe that herself even though she says. “I just want to go home.”

  “Does he know where you live?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it's not safe for you to go home.”

  “He'll not go there. He has a show to run.”

  “And after that?”

  “If he comes around there, I won't let him in. There's a security system. There's no way he's getting anywhere near me.”

  She gasps.

  “What is it?”

  “He has a key.”

  I hate how that makes me feel. “You were that close that you trusted him with a key to your place?”

  “Jessie, my roommate, rents the place from him. He has a few properties he rents out. He'll have keys to the building and the apartment. ”

  She starts shaking then. And I can't help holding her to calm her down. Her heart thumps against me.

  “It's okay. We can get the locks changed so you're safe but there's no way I can let you go back there until it's done. You're coming home with me.”

  I tell Miller where to go and I hold her hand in what I hope is a reassuring way, trying to calm her. “It will be okay,” I tell her but she bites her lip. Does she sense the danger of what I'd like to do with her in my house? Maybe she does. But there's no way I'd do anything to harm her.

  We pull up at my place in Eaton Square.

  “You live here?” Her eyes are wide looking at my house.

  “Yes.”

  Women are always impressed by anyone who has a house this big, this imposing, in central London. It would be nothing to write home about out of town and I have bigger places elsewhere but I can see them computing my wealth as soon as they see the five-floor high vanilla painted Georgian facade with the Belgravia postcode. But it has a different effect on Victoria.

  “You know, I'm okay and I'm sure you have better things to do, Mr. Lynch. I'll just go home if your driver will take me. I'll barricade myself in or something.”

  “Just come in for a while. I'll get you a drink and something to wear and you'll feel much better. Then I'll have Miller take you home.”

  I know how I'd like to make her feel better and no doubt she can sense that too but there's just a brief hesitation before she walks in, my hand finding a natural place on the small of her back feeling her warmth through the rough fabric of her coat and her uniform.

  CHAPTER 8

  Victoria

  The hall is enormous with a big sweeping staircase. Do people actually live like this? A flash of the apartment I share springs to mind with its cheerful clutter and lack of space. A different world.

  “Nice house,” I say, for want of anything better. The luxury of the place seems to have tied my tongue. It feels like a palace not a home. I liked it when he held me in the car. I took comfort in the strength of his arms, the clean smell of his cologne, but it feels as if there is a mile of cool marble floor between us now—a gulf of lifestyle as much as distance.

  I follow him into a huge living room full of antique furniture. He pours me a drink from a crystal decanter on a side table though he doesn't have one himself. I sip at the drink. The bitter taste of the brandy warms me inside. I need it. I'm still feeling far from calm and standing here with Ashton Lynch in his fancy schmancy room is not helping me one bit.

  “I'll get Mrs. Hanson to run you a hot bath while I find you some clothes. It will make you feel better after a shock like that.”

  Jeez, he has people who run baths? I should have known in a place like this. I nod. But shit, I've got to stop agreeing to everything he says like some stupid girl who doesn't have a mind of her own.

  “Unless you have some very fancy plumbing, I think I'll manage, thanks.”

  He laughs. “Just plumbing like everyone has. It's not that good. I never invited anyone home to see my plumbing.”

  He's a different guy when he laughs, not so intense.

  “I'll show you the way,” he says

  I put down the glass and follow him up the wide staircase to the balcony on the floor above, and he opens a big door into a beautiful bedroom. A huge bed and canopy dominate one side of the room and there's a sitting area around a fireplace on the other side. French windows open onto a Juliet balcony on the wall facing the door, but he leads me past all that through an archway to find an enormous bath tub with steps leading up to it.

  “That's a very fancy bath tub to go with your ordinary plumbing, if I may say so, Mr. Lynch.”

  I'm pretty sure a bath here won't calm me down at all. I feel my heart thudding again but it's not from what happened earlier with Jimmy and everything to do with this man and the way he looks at me.

  “Why don't you try filling it?” he says.

  I reach over and turn on the warm water.

  “You have to put the plug in first,” he says. “First rule of filling a bath tub.”

  “Oh, so you can do it yourself, you don't just get Mrs. Hanson to do it all the time.”

  “Not all the time, no. Sometimes she has a day off.” He laughs. “Here let me help you with that.”

  He reaches behind me, his body brushing against mine, sending my pulse racing and he pulls the lever that lowers the plug. He pours in some kind of perfumed bath oil—jasmine, I think though I hardly have time to register it because he's holding me and I feel the strength and hardness of him against me. And then he kisses my neck, a light butterfly kiss and I get another breath of his cologne.

  I should be freaked out by this kiss. I know I should. I'm in his house with no one to call for help except presumably a woman called Mrs. Hanson who may be fictional as far as I know. I'm still wearing my coat but under it is my icky uniform dress with half the buttons torn off. Somehow, don't ask me how, I feel safe with him so I don't freak out.

  And it's not as if he’s attacking me. It's the gentlest of kisses. Not demanding. Just one tiny kiss that somehow affected every part of me. And when I look at him, his eyes are asking the question “Was that okay? Did I go too far?”


  But he's not questioning for long because we can't look away from each other. His lips are on mine and I'm kissing him back like there's no question about it at all. As soon as I respond, he takes control of my mouth, his kisses harder, more urgent. He probes my lips with his tongue wanting to explore and I part mine welcoming him in so our kiss deepens. He pulls me against his hard body one hand on my waist the other behind my neck, as he explores my mouth with his, the water gushing behind us into the huge tub.

  When we eventually break apart to catch our breath the bath tub is in danger of overflowing. He turns off the water, never taking his eyes off me but I look away, shocked and embarrassed by the intensity of that kiss and of that gaze.

  No! There's no way he's getting the upper hand. I grab the front of my uniform holding it together.

  “So was that why you invited me home, Mr. Lynch? Because I'm pretty irritated right now at the way you think you can walk all over me and tell me what to do. Dance. Don't dance. Sign this. If you sign this you can't do this. You can't go there. Go here.”

  “I didn't tell you to do anything.”

  “You're coming home with me. Have a bath. I'm getting your locks changed. That's not telling at all? Pretty much blueprint control freakery to me. Mr. Lynch.”

  “I think we've gone past Mr. Lynch don't you? Call me Ash.”

  “There you go again telling me what to say, what I should call you.”

  “Call me anything you like then. I don't care.”

  “Control freak suits where I'm standing.”

  Oops, that was pretty rude. Have I gone too far? What the hell, he deserves it, despite rescuing me.

  I need to get out of there, to work out what just happened with that kiss. I hardly know the guy. I just signed a contract with his company and there's a tub full of water waiting. I'm supposed to undress and get into that? I must be out of my mind letting things go this far and yet...is he really pushing me? Has he done anything I didn't want him to do? Has he forced me to do anything? Not so far.

  And now he's just standing there, one hand raking through his hair like he doesn't know what to make of me. He can join the freakin' party because I don't know what's going on with me either. He kissed me. I liked it. I didn't really want to stop there. So why did I make such a big thing about it? Color me confused.