Page 38 of Just The Way You Aren’t (Last Billionaire Standing #1)
DAMIEN
T he last thing I need right now is my poker friends descending on us like a pack of well-dressed wolves who've spotted fresh prey. But here they come, all five of them, cutting through the crowd with the confidence of men who've never met a room they couldn't own.
Or a woman they couldn't charm.
On instinct, I move my arm around Willow's waist. It’s a possessive move, but if I know my friends it’s imperative that I stake my claim right up front.
Better yet, maybe we still have time to make a quick detour toward the auction tables?—
Fuck. Too late.
"Damien!" Finn Bardot's voice booms across the ballroom. His golden hair is perfectly mussed, long-legged stride full of swagger. "You planning on hiding this beautiful young lady from us all night?"
In a word: Yes.
"They’re all friends of yours?" Willow asks, and I don't miss the way her eyes widen as she takes them in. Five men in perfectly tailored tuxedos, each one better looking than the next.
"Unfortunately." I paste on a tight smile as they approach, trying not to notice how their gazes immediately lock onto Willow. Or rather, Willow in that sinful midnight blue dress that hugs every curve, the glittering Tiffany necklace I placed on her throat catching the light.
Wyatt reaches us first, his usual easy grin in place. "Willow! You look absolutely stunning. That dress is?—"
Mine, I think but I don't say it, as my arm slides more firmly around her waist.
“Wow,” Wyatt finishes, clearly dazzled. And why wouldn’t he be? Willow looked lovely the day he met her, dressed in one of her long flowy skirts and a colorful top, but tonight she is magnificent.
"Thank you," she says, that brilliant smile of hers making something primitive stir in my chest. "I’m so pleased you were able to make it tonight, Wyatt."
"Wouldn't miss it." He gestures to the others. "And I brought reinforcements. Gentlemen, meet Willow Harper, the Executive Director of Silver Hearts."
The way they all stare at her with laser focus and open interest makes something primitive stir in my chest. Five single billionaires, and every one of them is drinking in the sight of her charm, her warmth, that dress. Fucking hell, why did I buy her something that makes her look this good?
Because she deserved it, that’s why. And if any of my friends from The Retreat thinks he can muscle in on my date—my woman—he’s going to have to come through me first.
"Alec Beckett." The tech mogul steps forward first, taking her hand with a smile that makes his dimples appear beneath his sharp cheekbones and green eyes that miss nothing. "It's a pleasure to meet the woman who's managed to domesticate Damien."
"I'm not domesticated," I growl, which only makes them all laugh.
"Right," Brad Hayes says, stepping up next. "That's why you missed poker last week to deliver meals to the elderly."
"You deliver meals? Personally?" Gabriel Sinclair's deep voice is edged with surprise. "That's actually rather?—"
"Can we not do this here?" I interrupt, but Willow's hand finds mine, squeezing gently.
"I think it's wonderful that Damien's friends are so supportive," she says diplomatically. "And thank you all for coming tonight."
"Are you kidding?" Finn smirks. "When Wyatt told us about the cause, we couldn't resist. Plus, we had some items gathering dust that might help your auction."
"Items?" Willow blinks. "You all donated something tonight?"
The way her face lights up with surprise and gratitude makes my chest tight. But it also draws my friends' attention even more intensely, and I have to resist the urge to step between them and block their view.
"Just some things we had lying around," Alec says, shrugging nonchalantly. "I put together a smart home package. Full security, environmental controls, the works."
"Lying around?" I snort. "That's a hundred-thousand-dollar system you designed yourself."
"One twenty, actually," he corrects. "But who's counting?"
"Two weeks at my beach house in the Caymans," Brad adds. "Never find time to use it anyway. "
"Because even corporate vampires avoid the sun," I remark wryly.
He casually flips me off, using his middle finger to scratch above his brow. "I just don't see the point of beaches when pools exist."
"Rain forest adventure package," Finn chimes in. "Zip-lining, wildlife tours, luxury glamping."
"The man owns the company," I tell Willow. "Makes those Bear Grylls adventures look like kindergarten field trips."
"And this one donated a car," Wyatt says, pointing at Gabe.
I practically choke on my drink. "The Aston Martin?" I can't hide my surprise. "The one you've been obsessing over for three years?"
Gabe lifts his shoulder. "Seemed appropriate."
"That's the Vanquish I've been trying to buy from you," I accuse. "You said it wasn't for sale."
"It's not. It's for charity."
"And I threw in that Picasso," Wyatt finishes. "The one from my foyer in the Hamptons."
"You hate that painting," I point out.
"Exactly. Two birds, one stone. Charity and redecorating. Win-win."
Willow looks between them all, her eyes dancing with delight and a mist of grateful tears. "I... I don't know what to say. This is incredible."
"We know Damien," Alec says, his analytical gaze moving between us. "And despite his many, many flaws?—"
I grunt. "Thanks, asshole."
"—he's usually right about what matters. If he thinks this cause is worthwhile..." He shrugs elegantly.
"Plus, tax deductions," Brad adds, because he's physically incapable of sentiment unless it concerns his daughter. "My grandmother needed care like this," he continues, ruining his own deflection. "I know how important it is."
"Thank you," Willow says softly. "All of you. This means everything."
She's glowing with happiness, and I should be thrilled that my friends have guaranteed her fundraiser's success.
Instead, I'm noticing how Alec's studying her like she's cryptic code he wants to crack, how Finn's practically got cartoon hearts in his eyes, how even Gabe seems more engaged than usual.
"So, Willow," Alec says in that deceptively casual tone that usually precedes corporate bloodshed. "How exactly did you manage to extract our friend from his office? Hostage situation? Blackmail?"
"She asked nicely," I interject. "Novel concept for you, I know."
"Actually, he volunteered," Willow corrects, grinning. “Without Damien, tonight wouldn’t have been possible.”
"You would’ve made it work, I have no doubt,” I tell her, meaning it wholeheartedly. “You’re a miracle worker. Only Willow could’ve showed up at my office and fixed my PR nightmare with a single conversation."
“They just needed to see the real you,” she says, looking up at me as if the other men are no longer there. “They needed to see the man I know now.”
“Maybe I needed to see him too,” I admit.
"Never thought I'd see the day," Alec murmurs. "Damien Langley, actually having a life outside the office."
There's weight in his words that makes Willow glance at him. "Business isn't everything."
“Isn’t it?” Alec's green eyes study us with that analytical intensity I know too well. "I've always found staying focused on the goal to be more... efficient. Less complicated. "
"There’s nothing wrong with complicated," she counters, gently but firmly. "The best things in life are usually a little messy."
"Profound," Gabe says quietly. "Also, a bit naive."
Before I can tell him where to shove his opinion, one of the fundraiser attendants materializes at Willow's elbow.
"Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Harper, but it's almost time for the speeches to begin."
"Oh! Right." Willow turns back to my friends. "I'm so sorry, I have to?—"
"Go," I tell her, cupping her face. "You'll be brilliant. You always are."
She smiles up at me. "Thank you."
She starts to take a step away from me, and before I can stop myself, I grasp her wrist and pull her against me for a brief kiss. "For luck," I tell her, grinning with so much pride it’s a wonder the buttons on my shirt don’t pop off. “Go knock it out of the park.”
She nods, then hurries away with the attendant, leaving me standing there with five smirking assholes.
"Whipped," Finn coughs into his hand.
I don’t bother to respond. I’m too busy watching Willow glide through the ballroom like a red-haired dream wrapped in midnight blue silk.
"Christ, you've really got it bad," Brad observes. "What happened to the man whose motto has always been, 'relationships are inefficient distractions'?"
I shrug, unfazed. "That was before I met someone worth being distracted by."
"Careful," Alec warns quietly. "You're starting to sound dangerously like a man in love. "
I don’t dare look at him or he’ll see the truth in my eyes. Hell, they all probably do anyway.
"Just be careful, Damien." Brad studies me, his expression sober. He’s the only one of us who’s ever been married, and his ended disastrously. "Love has a tendency to rearrange priorities. Makes smart men stupid."
"You can take that to the bank,” Wyatt says. “Hayes speaks from experience."
"I prefer my priorities unscrambled," Alec replies smoothly.
"Your loss," I tell him, turning back to watch as Willow takes the microphone. She's radiant up there, commanding the full attention of the expansive room with effortless grace and humor.
"So, about that bet," Finn starts, folding his arms across his chest.
"What bet?" I ask absently, too focused on the way the stage lights catch the diamonds and pearls at Willow's throat.
"The million-dollar?—"
I wave dismissively. "Fuck the bet."
"You're conceding?" Wyatt sounds shocked.
"I'm saying shut up and let me listen to her speech," I clarify. "I swear, you chatty assholes are worse than a bingo hall full of senior citizens."
They fall silent as Willow begins speaking, her passion for Silver Hearts evident in every word. She's magnificent up there, and I can't look away.
"He’s completely gone," Gabe murmurs to the others.
"Looks like it to me," Alec agrees.
I neither confirm nor deny, instead tuning them out entirely, lost in watching the enchanting, chaotic beauty who's completely upended my carefully ordered life .
The extraordinary woman who makes the world better just by being in it.
Let them joke about the bet. I'm looking at the best prize, and for tonight she’s all mine.