Page 4 of A Billionaire for Christmas

Molly, not usually one for eavesdropping, was transfixed at the conversation the two ladies were having, labelling Levi a billionaire as casually as if they’d called him a plumber. She followed their gaze to an oldish gentleman openly enjoying the attention of a much younger woman.

‘That randy goat? I’d rather stick with my husband, thanks. And that’s saying something.’

They giggled quietly.

‘Walt took me and Elsie to New York shopping last year and then flew us all to Hawaii. If you can ignore the inappropriate jokes and the glaucoma, he’s very generous.’

Leaving the ladies to gossip, Molly scanned the room for her handsome billionaire.

Her pulse quickened at the thought of finding out more.

She slipped in and out of the crowd, subtly glancing around, pleased that the party was in full swing and everyone was in various states of intoxication.

The smell of logs burning and spicy aftershave mingled with expensive perfumes, filling the air of the various nooks and crannies.

That was when she came across a giant Christmas tree, heavily decorated with glittering tinsel, bright gaudy baubles and burlesque figurines.

Bearing an uncanny resemblance to herself, the angel on the top was wearing a red sparkling basque and suspenders.

And next to the tree stood Levi, like the world’s best Christmas present just waiting to be unwrapped.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him casually talking to a scantily-clad woman adorned with what looked like a few million pounds’ worth of gaudy baubles around her neck.

Molly gave herself a mental slap. She must not get carried away.

Someone was paying her good money to do a job, not to gape lustfully at exceptionally attractive party guests.

But before she could tear her eyes away, Levi caught her gaze.

Christ Almighty.

He tilted his head with a quizzical expression as they made eye contact.

She’d broken the one and only rule she’d been given, and it felt overwhelmingly worth it.

Smiling shyly at him, she swivelled around and made her way back across the crowded room on trembling legs.

She desperately wanted to turn around, sure his penetrating gaze was trained right on her.

She paused in the doorway, a sixth sense pulling at her, and risked a glance back at him.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

He was talking to a group of men. He wasn’t looking at her.

He wasn’t paying her attention. It was all in her imagination.

She was behaving erratically. It was very unlike her.

Maybe it was this ridiculous costume. Maybe it was the excessive dry spell.

She would have a word with herself as soon as she got back to her lovely apartment, down in the square.

Just as she was about to close the door, he suddenly turned and caught her staring again. Molly froze. The next few seconds happened as if in slow motion. He raised his glass, lazily downing the drink without once breaking eye contact with her. One rule!

He was staring back at her with unashamed interest. She had one rule and she’d broken it twice in as many minutes. She felt herself blush down to her toes. She noticed him taking in the corset clinging to her curves before placing his empty glass on a nearby tray.

In her peripheral vision, voluptuous women moved around the room dressed in theatrical burlesque attire, but their costumes were in stark contrast to the man before her.

She looked him over one more time with satisfaction.

He was dressed in a tux, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his bow-tie knotted loosely, but otherwise, he was fully dressed and did not seem as though he was taking part in whatever was going on. Unsure why, Molly nodded her approval.

This seemed to amuse him, causing her stomach to flutter as they locked eyes. This man fancied her.

And in that moment, she realised that she was experiencing lust. Overwhelming rip-his-shirt-right-off lust. It rocked her to her core. With a gasp, she swiftly closed the door.

Once outside, she took a moment to calm her breathing.

It was hot. Her head was in a spin. Molly would feel at home in any kitchen, anywhere in the world, but put her in the middle of what looked like an aristocratic orgy and she was certainly a fish out of water.

She began fanning her face before bolting back to the lift with her trolley and down to the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the platters.

The sooner she delivered them and got out of there, the fewer rules she might break.

‘That bad, huh?’ laughed Keela as Molly approached.

‘Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the half of what goes on in this club, but my lips are sealed, and I get well paid to keep them shut.

’ Her eyes were twinkling with mischief.

‘This place is a magnet for the world’s horniest people. A lot can happen in one night.’

At the thought of Levi, Molly experienced a warm flush. ‘Where next?’ she asked.

‘Hen party for some famous French actress, in the Chambre Rouge. It’s at the end of the corridor from the Stockings and Garter Room.

Should be straightforward. They’ve got entertainment booked, so if you can get in and out before it starts, you might be spared some blushes.

Oh, and whatever you do, don’t go behind the stage curtain.

It’s hiding some priceless antique display that’s part of the act and was a total pain to get up here.

But what the super-rich want, the super-rich get. ’

Molly was used to being invisible. ‘Got it. They won’t even notice I’m there. I promise.’

As Keela disappeared through the kitchen door, Molly was desperate for information.

Her handsome stranger was called Levi. She needed to find out more.

In a state of excitement, she made sure no one was around and whipped out her phone.

She would search the internet for details about him.

How many billionaires called Levi could there be?

In her hurry, the phone slipped from her hand and landed with a crack on the tiled floor.

Molly stopped. What was she doing? Googling hot men was not the sort of distraction she needed right now.

She needed to focus on the task at hand, delivering canapés to hungry hens.

She picked up her phone, thankful to see it unbroken, and marched through to the dressing room to put it securely in her coat pocket.

The copy of the bucket list was poking out.

A reminder to get started. A reminder that she had until Christmas Eve, only twelve days, to tick off as many boxes as possible.

Perhaps there was a small easy one that she could do once she finished her shift?

Slipping the phone in her stocking, she stared at the challenges on the list, but it was as though the first item kept looming from the page, dragging her eyes back to it time and again.

Daring her to be courageous. Daring her to be spontaneous.

Daring her to break a few rules. Drink champagne with a billionaire while naked in a hot tub overlooking the Alps.

It triggered an instant flashback of Levi and his incredibly symmetrical bone structure. Okay, so maybe this was the sort of distraction she needed right now.