Victoria The Billionaires Maid

Sage’s [POV]

I covered my ears and blocked Oliver out. “La-la-la, can’t hear you.” I figured that childish gesture would be enough to make him retreat into whatever he’d been doing on his tablet.

Instead, he wrapped his arm around me and tugged me closer, tucking my head under his chin. My seat belt impeded movement, but we made it work somehow.

“Better?” The word rumbled through his chest and straight into mine.

My response was something akin to “ughkmph.”

That damn cologne again. Was it a hormone provoker or something? And I was cold, and he so was not. His chest was so solid, as was his grip around my shoulders. I wanted to cuddle in and stay a while.

Not because it was Oliver. Of course not. Just because I was nervous and chilly and overwhelmed.

He was also slightly hot. Only slightly. Truth be told, his twin was better looking. The other girls at the diner had conducted a poll once, minus Ally’s input. Even pre-wedding, she’d been Seth’s best friend and hardly impartial. Every one of the other women had said Oliver was the hotter of the two, on account of his suits and a general air of imperviousness. Like he was a king and any woman would love a chance to sit on his lap.

Me? I’d picked Seth. He was friendlier. More approachable. Less likely to have an object dart stuck up his bum.

Right now, though, I was having no problem with any part of Oliver. And that whole lap-sitting thing? It might’ve happened if these seats had been a tad wider.

“You’re shaking. Where’s your coat?” Oliver tugged at the sleeve of my thin sweater. “This is hardly capable of keeping you warm.”

It took me a moment or seven to gather my wits enough to speak. If I’d had a few more muscles in my throat, I probably would’ve purred.

“Going to Vegas,” I mumbled, fighting the urge to press my nose into his neck. There were nice gestures and then there was using them as an opportunity to cross the line.

I had boundaries. Not now. But in general.

“Your point? You’re in New York now. Or you were when you got on this plane.”

“Didn’t want to pack it. All I needed was a couple of pretty dresses, strappy heels, and maybe a bathing suit-gah!” I reared up, banging the top of my head against his glacier of a chin. We both groaned, and the sound coming from him was far sexier than it should’ve been.

That did it. I was finally caving and buying a bullet when I returned home. Something had taken over my libido and all rationality had flown out the window. The release had to be the answer.

Either that or a lobotomy.

I rubbed my head, staring at his tie so I didn’t have to meet his eyes. Dark as shrapnel, fiery like burning coal. “Sorry. I just realized I forgot my bathing suit. Dammit. Darn it.” I sighed. “Should’ve brought the jar with me. Now I’ll have to keep notes.”

“At least half of what you say makes no sense. I’m unsure if I’m the only one who misunderstands you, or if you’re just generally incomprehensible.”

Lumberjack leaned closer. “I ain’t got the foggiest either, friend.”

Oliver smiled tightly. “Thank you for the corroboration.”

“I keep a swear jar; you know, as Seth and Ally do.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “That infernal nonsense. Yes.”

“You think swearing around a youngster is proper?”

“I think life is a hard, scary place, and swear words are the least of anyone’s concern.”

“Gotta part ways with you there, bud.” Lumberjack shook his head. “Some words just aren’t appropriate for little ears.”

“Or Sage’s since she’s self-censoring. As you will in that arena. What, pray to tell, caused you to nearly break my jaw with your rock-hard head?”

“Hello, I already said it. I forgot my bathing suit. Which royally sucks. Not that I know how to swim, but I’d planned to lounge by the pool-”

“Bikini?” Oliver asked, and there was no missing interest in his tone. Not his eyes, since I still hadn’t chanced a look there.

“Um, no. Try a modest one-piece with a skirt.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because this body isn’t meant for-”

He laid a finger over my

lips. “Stop right there, because whatever you say is only going to piss me off.”

Lumberjack had to chime in. “He’s right, you know. Your body is just fine.” He cleared his throat, possibly from the way Oliver lifted his head as if he were scenting blood. “Pardon me. I didn’t mean anything unsavory by that. Just that you’re a beautiful woman, Miss Evans.”

A lump was growing in my throat. Whether from Oliver’s quick rebuke of what I’d been about to say or Lumberjack’s praise, I didn’t know.

Two handsome men were indicating they found me attractive. It wasn’t even that I disagreed. I had the same issues as anyone else, but most days, I thought I had a pretty face. A nice enough body, if a little on the plump side. Just not bikini-worthy.

“I’ll buy you a bikini,” Oliver said, dropping his finger from my mouth as if the discussion was over.

“I can buy my bikini.”

“Good. The matter is settled.”

It so wasn’t, but I sat back in my seat and bit my lip. I wasn’t buying a bikini, but maybe I’d go for a skimpier two-piece. Even go wild and skip the skirt. That would be fun.

“Oh, and since we’re on the topic of buying, I took the liberty of upgrading your hotel suite. I’ll be right next door. Don’t worry, a connecting door is between us, but you can lock it to your heart’s content.”

Since I was still pondering swimwear, it took me a second to catch up. “Excuse me?”

“The radio station’s accommodations were shit.”

His bold statement made me wince. “You need a swear jar too. Maybe a swear suitcase.”

“And you don’t even know half of what I say when I’m sufficiently motivated.”

I frowned. “What do you-” The pointed expression he wore clued me into my naivete.

In so many ways.

“Oh.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Yes, oh. Do you truly have any objections to a nicer hotel suite? You don’t travel much. Why not do it up right?”

“You’re not supposed to be taking over. This is my chance to be independent, to live a life untethered.” I had more complaints, but they weren’t coming out fast enough.

Probably since I was still wondering what Oliver sounded like when “sufficiently motivated”.

Only academically. As far as personally? Nope. So didn’t give a fig.

“Be as untethered as you wish. I will be too.”

“Oh, no. You are not picking up women while I have no choice but to watch.” I wasn’t yelling. I was almost positive.

Until the small child, two aisles ahead of us started to scream and his mother turned to glare at me.

“Mind keeping your voice down?”

“Mind not behaving as if you’re my sugar daddy?”

“First, you’re shouting because you’re concerned I’ll pick up women and force you to watch. Now you’re calling me your sugar daddy. Kindly pick your argument.”

“Either. Both. You weren’t even supposed to be here, for fuck’s sake.” I held up a hand in the direction of the aghast mother. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll rein it in.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could. My emotions were swinging back and forth harder than the plane had started to. Which was just fabulous.

As if he knew I was on the verge of panic again, he simply drew me in and stroked my hair again. Long, even, gentle strokes that had me closing my eyes despite myself.

“You’re my friend, remember? As I’m yours. That’s the spirit in which I upgraded your suite.”

I grunted and clung.

“Any other proposed changes, I’ll ask first.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. As for the other…” He didn’t respond long enough that I eased back and tilted my head. “Picking up babes?” I prompted, unsure why it mattered so much.

He was single and unencumbered. His love life wasn’t my concern in any case. Especially since I’d intended to perhaps make a love connection myself if the fates were kind.

But Oliver was far too good at the dating game. I’d probably develop comparison-envy and freeze up. That simply wouldn’t do on my first freewheeling vacation.

I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing. That sounded plausible.

Thank God.

Otherwise, I would have to admit that Oliver’s endless hookups bothered me. And that was crazy talk.

His lips quirked. “I can guarantee I’ll have my hands full with one babe all weekend.” He didn’t give me a chance to reply before his finger pressed into my lips again. “You’re far more than a babe, so don’t quibble.”

I couldn’t quibble. Not when his voice had gone husky and rough and his eyes were beckoning mine, forcing me to look into them or perish.

The arguments flew right out of my head.

With his certain victory in sight, he tugged me back against his chest. I went because there wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be just then.

Even though he was a bossy jerk who was already trying to control things.

Even though we could fight over the weather.

Even though he wasn’t even supposed to be there.

I was so very glad he was.