The Billionaires--A Lover's Triangle Novel Read online

  “So I’ve learned.”

  Holly was quiet a moment, then said, “I don’t get it. Why’s she still so upset? That was ten years ago, right?”

  “The woman knows how to hold a grudge. Runs in her family.”

  “Apparently with the Angelinis as well.” Holly whistled softly. “‘Hell hath no fury’ and all that. But holy Christ … Isn’t she quite the tigress?”

  “You have no idea.”

  And now Vin was tormented with the rush of memories of naked bodies entwined and hips bucking. Jewel moaning and begging for more as he explored every conceivable way in which to pleasure her. Took her hard and fast, with no boundaries established. Owning her in the only way he could—the one way Rogen had not. Because even though Rogen had been her first, he’d never fucked her like Vin had.

  And desperately wanted to again.

  No. It was worse than that. Because between his last time with Jewel and seeing her this evening he’d learned enough about how he and Rogen could satisfy her together.

  The ultimate fantasy.

  Which, despite it being completely inconceivable, was now rooted deep in his mind. Lodged in his soul.

  Goddamn it.

  * * *

  Rogen caught sight of Jewel as she wove through the crowd, briefly greeting the guests she knew yet decidedly on a mission. Though she wore a brave face, he could see sheer agony in her eyes.

  What the hell had happened between her and his father? And why had she been so adamant about seeing Gian tonight—after all this time?

  Rogen met her at one of the bars as she asked for ice. The tuxedo-clad bartender used silver tongs to place several cubes in a doubled-up napkin and passed the tidy packet to her. Jewel placed it in her palm and squeezed.

  “What’s going on?” Rogen asked.

  Jewel just shook her head.

  He said to the bartender, “Send someone out to the terrace with two cognacs. The alcove on the far side of the library, by the patio doors.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Rogen gently placed a hand at the small of Jewel’s back and silently directed her through the opened wall of floor-to-ceiling pocket doors, across the terrace, and to a private spot shrouded by rich, blooming foliage. The intimate space only dimly illuminated with golden up-lighting edging the garden that abutted the veranda. Thick vines wound along the black wrought-iron railing and the faint scent of jasmine in bloom wafted on a gentle breeze.

  “What happened?” he demanded in a quiet voice.

  She sucked in a breath, then simply said, “Vin.”

  Rogen’s anger flared—or perhaps it was alpha tendencies? A natural instinct where Jewel was concerned. The only time they ever truly kicked in with a woman. “What’d he do to you?”

  “This time, it’s not what he did to me. It’s what I did to him.”

  Rogen’s brow crooked.

  Jewel rolled her eyes. “I slapped him. Hard.”

  “Oh, fuck. That wasn’t smart.”

  “No shit.” Her gaze dropped to her hand holding the ice. “But he deserved it. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Christ, Jewel. What went on between the two of you?”

  Her attention shifted to the server who approached and dropped off the cognac on one of the glass end tables accompanying the outdoor sectional.

  Rogen collected the snifters and offered one to Jewel. She took it with her good hand and sipped slowly.

  Then she said, “This is incredibly helpful, thank you.”

  “You still look a little flushed.”

  “Vin pisses me off.”

  “After all this time?”

  She sighed. “His very existence just makes me … crazed.” She ground out the last word.

  Rogen’s chuckle was a strained one, holding no humor. “He’s always known how to push your buttons. But the two of you are…?” His brow rose again with curiosity.

  “We aren’t anything, Rogen. Don’t conjure any delusions. He walked out on me, without a word, without the chance for discussion. With no explanation. So … That’s that. And honestly, it was so long ago that—”

  “You should be over it by now?” he offered and challenged at the same time.

  Jewel’s dark blue irises clouded. “I should be over a lot of things by now.” Gazing up at him, she said, “Clearly, I’m not meant to be freed from the past.”

  “Jewel.” Rogen downed a big gulp of cognac. The alcohol that seared his insides came nowhere close to the sizzling sensation of Jewel standing so near that he breathed in her captivating scent and his body flamed with the intense desire to shed his tux and her dress and finally feel her supple skin and soft curves against his hard body.

  “I know I shouldn’t have just popped in without warning,” she confessed, her tone compelling. “But if I had told someone I was coming, I fear I never would have made it through the front doors. And it was imperative that I speak with your father.” With another shake of her head, she added, “Unfortunately, I’ve turned everything upside down for you, me, and Vin. I swear there’s some cosmic force dedicated to keeping the three of us in constant turmoil whenever we’re together.”

  “I think the collective nemesis is a bit more localized. Our parents have done a great job of derailing our association in every form it’s taken. Vin’s been stuck in the middle.”

  “There’s so much anger between me and him.”

  “And what’s between us?” Rogen softly commanded. “Because the second I saw you, Jewel, it was like a jump start to a dead battery—and I had no idea my heart was the dead battery.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed. “Rogen.”

  “Come on, Jewel,” he urged as he cupped her elbow and coaxed her toward him. “Don’t fuck around here. You feel it, too, right?”

  Her eyes flew open. “Of course,” she said with conviction. Tears crested the rims. “It’s the very reason I’ve avoided River Cross all this time. The very reason I rarely ever come home. When I do,” she told him with unmistakable agony in her tone as fat drops tumbled down her cheeks, “I always, always look the other way as we pass the distillery and this estate. I can’t stand to think about what exists beyond those huge wrought-iron gates that’s so far out of my reach. You, Rogen.” She stared hard, didn’t blink. “And Vin.”

  THREE

  This evening was taking all kinds of wayward turns.

  Jewel’s heart felt constricted, as though a big fist squeezed it tight. Her breathing had yet to return to normal. From the moment she’d walked into the mansion and almost straight into Rogen’s arms, she’d been on the roller-coaster ride of her life—and couldn’t get her emotions, her physical responses, or her pulse under control.

  Breaking their intense gaze, she took a long sip of cognac. Then another. Her hand shook.

  “Jewel,” he ground out in apparent frustration over her slight retreat. The reprieve she needed from the razors slicing through her, bringing back past pains that suddenly felt fresh and raw.

  Rogen whisked away some of her tears from one cheek. Then he palmed the side of her face and his thumb swept away more from the other.

  His head dipped and his lips grazed her temple as he said, “You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

  A small cry wrenched from somewhere deep within her.

  “I know it got difficult among the three of us,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it hurt so much when I left for Trinity.”

  “And every day thereafter,” she told him. “Vin helped me through it. For a little while. Then he just … disappeared.”

  “I remember he went off the grid at the end of senior year. I didn’t hear from him for months. He never told me what that was all about. Just said he had something to work through in his mind, and left it at that.”

  Jewel gnawed her bottom lip a moment. Stepped away. Put a little space between them so that she could think straight, not get lost in Rogen’s vibrant blue eyes and ruggedly handsome face. The feel of his lips and fingertips on her skin. The
intimate moments drawing out between them. The electric current humming through her veins.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, either,” she said. “I should go.”

  “Slow down,” he insisted. “Not so fast. You haven’t been here that long. And, Christ…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “When am I going to see you again?”

  Jewel set aside her snifter and the crumpled napkin that was now soaked, since the ice had melted. Her palm still smarted, but that was the least of her worries.

  The least of her torment.

  She hadn’t crashed the Angelinis’ gala as a means to start something up with Rogen. Certainly not Vin. She was here for business, not romance.

  Yet Rogen was a powerful undertow. He took her tenderly by the hand she hadn’t used to slap Vin and turned to leave the terrace. She willingly went with him.

  Over one impossibly broad shoulder, he said, “I’m going to take you someplace that will instantly cheer you up.” His roguish grin stole her breath. So, no chance of getting it back while she was still in his presence.

  They took the short flight of steps down to the manicured event lawn and along the west wing of the mansion, toward the service entrance. Rogen directed her to a Rhino parked outside the building and helped her into the passenger seat. Her gaze followed him as he rounded the front of the all-terrain vehicle. She admired his confident strides, his virility.

  He climbed in next to her and cranked the key in the ignition. Jewel wasn’t quite sure what he was up to or whether it was wise to play along. Really, the more time she spent here—and with him—the more difficult it would be to reconcile her feelings when she returned to San Francisco and tried to erase from her mind the sight of Rogen. And Vin.

  Not to mention the yearning and heartache they both sparked.

  Jesus, why’d they have to be so devilishly handsome? So damn tempting?

  They each possessed significantly different qualities that called to Jewel. Rogen was the rough-and-tumble type. Tough as nails, steely nerved, masculine, solid as oak physically and emotionally. He was also gentle, soft-spoken at just the right moments, heartwarmingly amiable, sensitive when the situation warranted. She’d cried on his shoulder plenty of times, and he’d never seemed to mind. Had never gotten antsy or appeared the least bit uncomfortable with her family drama, her girly feelings.

  By contrast, Vin was dark and broody. Even as a kid. More so after his parents had died in a horrific plane crash when he, Rogen, and Jewel were all sixteen and he’d ended up moving into the Angelini mansion. He had a refined look, but raw intensity oozed from his every pore. While he liked to project his arrogant nature, Jewel had been privy to his fiercely compassionate side.

  The man would save puppies from a burning building. He’d brag about it afterward, of course. That was Vin. Whereas Rogen would simply shrug off any hero worship if he’d been the one to swoop in to save the day, and say, Anyone would have done the same.

  It was no wonder the two men were still best friends—their yin and yang complemented each other. And Jewel was wholly, inexplicitly, and irrevocably affected by both of them. Drawn to both of them.

  Which made her night at the Angelinis’ even more complex.

  As her stomach remained knotted over the events of the evening, Rogen parked the Rhino on the cobblestone pathway that led to a large white stucco building almost completely shrouded by tall foliage and topped with a red-tiled roof.

  Jewel grinned, despite her consternation. “The Angels’ Share Room,” she commented, knowing her spirits were about to be lifted.

  Rogen escorted her to the front doors while he talked on his iPhone, evidently to someone in Security, because a few interior lights came to life and the blinking crimson dots on the alarm pad alongside the main doors turned to green. She heard the distinct sound of a latch springing free and Rogen disconnected the call.

  Turning to Jewel, he said in his low, rumbling voice, “Guaranteed to put you in a better frame of mind. Take a couple of deep breaths.”

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly, methodically.

  Then Rogen told her, “Once more, with a big exhale, and then don’t breathe until we’re inside.”

  Jewel did as instructed. Rogen swung open one of the thick wood-and-glass doors and guided her through the entryway. Jewel pulled up short. She sucked in a long stream of air, filling her lungs with the glorious scent of rich, aromatic cognac. She held the breath, warmth and relaxation seeping through her veins, curling around her like a cozy blanket, sealing all the gaping holes within her that had been ripped open this evening.

  She let the breath out slowly, then inhaled again. Deeply. She repeated this numerous times, letting the fragrance calm her, soothe her. Along with the soulful aria floating from hidden speakers, the dimly lit chandeliers hanging from the polished beams overhead, and the gorgeously designed wooden floor, with cherub angels fluttering their wings and singing the praises of the heavens with skinny bugles and voluptuous harps.

  This was the room that inspired inner peace. That salved old wounds. That reminded Jewel of the beautiful world in which she’d been raised. The wine world.

  She crossed to the wide ledge between two curving staircases that led down to the VIP tasting room, cellar, and storage floor. She looked out at all the oak casks stacked high and recalled how as a kid, she’d always been fascinated with not only the distilling process but also the aging one.

  Rogen stood next to her, an elbow casually propped on the ledge, his other hand at the small of her back.

  She slid a glance his way. Smiled softly. She was fairly certain her eyes glowed with gratitude … and her deep affection for Rogen. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

  “Always cheered you up when you were blue.”

  “And I’ve missed it.”

  He nodded. “Separating us is something I’ve never reconciled with my parents. I don’t know that I ever will.”

  “It was wrong,” she agreed. “My parents played a part, too. That damn feud—”

  “Yes. But we’re not teenagers anymore, Jewel.” His cerulean eyes deepened in color. “They can’t control us. They can’t lay down any laws between us.”

  She swallowed the emotion bubbling in her throat. “Rogen, I—”

  “Come on.” He shoved away from the split railing and took her hand again. “Let’s sample the expensive stuff.”

  “And you’ll tell me the story I want to hear?”

  Now his eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

  He unhooked a gold-velvet rope at the top of one staircase and she passed through and descended the steps. They crossed to the far end, to the elegantly appointed tasting room with plush furniture and more elaborate chandeliers. A pool table. High-top tables and leather-padded stools. Lots of ornately framed mirrors.

  She took one of the stools and Rogen punched in the key code to unlock the cellar and disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned, he set out three Baccarat crystal-cut decanters and matching snifters. He also grabbed two small bottles of water from the cooler and a silver bucket to cleanse their palates and rinse their glasses in between tastings.

  He poured the first sample and handed it over. “I know you favor a hint of vanilla.”

  They’d snuck more than a few sips while growing up. “Yes, I still do.” Gently swirling the dark-amber liquid in the bowl of the snifter, she dipped her head and pulled in the bold bouquet that further stimulated her senses. As did the incredibly sexy man sitting across from her.

  She took a small drink, loving the slight burn over her tongue, down her throat, and to her belly, where heat spread slowly, deliciously, through her.

  The daring notes ended with a smooth vanilla finish that was a pleasant surprise.

  With a nod, Jewel said, “Sensational flavors. Now, tell me my story.”

  Rogen sipped his cognac while she enjoyed the rest of hers. Then he rinsed their glasses and poured another sample.

  He unraveled his bow tie to get comfortable. J
ewel’s gaze fixated on his strong fingers, deftly working the tie until the ends fell against his crisp white shirt. It’d been a hell of a long time since she’d felt his hands on her naked body. Remembering how lovingly, how sensually, he’d always touched her sparked an intense craving deep within her.

  Rogen shrugged out of the tuxedo jacket, removed and pocketed his cuff links, and rolled up his sleeves.

  Jewel was held spellbound, her arm suspended in the air, her snifter lifted midway to her lips, as she eyed Rogen over the rim. Exhilaration shimmied down her spine. Flames of desire licked her clit, sending a sizzle straight to the core of her being.

  Rogen’s gaze smoldered as he watched her watch him. As though he knew exactly what he did to her. How his nearness, how his fluid movements, how the sight of his large hands and powerful forearms, ignited her insides.

  When he slipped the first few buttons of his flap through their holes, Jewel’s jaw slackened. She had no doubt her irises blazed with appreciation of his considerable assets, the memory of what he looked like stripped bare, hard and wanting her.

  Her mouth watered. Her pulse reverberated within her, a measured cadence that thrummed against all of her erogenous zones, heightening her arousal.

  Rogen said, “You keep staring at me like that and I’m gonna skip right over the story you want me to tell you and get straight to the kissing.”

  Her heart jumped. Her pussy clenched. Lust and need hitched her pulse further. Though she told him, “I didn’t come here for kissing.”

  His brow crooked. “Being with me hasn’t crossed your mind since you arrived? Because I have to say, sweetheart, the way you devour me with those big blue eyes of yours … Well, kissing you is about the only thing I’ve been able to think of from the moment I saw you.”

  “I … Rogen.” She shook her head. Fought to find the right words.

  Hell, yes, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to do so much more than that.

  Jewel wanted him to peel away her dress. Touch her everywhere. With his hands, his mouth, that very talented tongue of his. She was desperate to feel him buried deep inside her, doing that slow, steady pumping of his cock that felt as though he were stroking her very soul as he rubbed against her most sensitive spot and made throaty moans fall from her lips.