Home > One Night with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #6)(43)

One Night with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #6)(43)
Author: Jessica Clare

But no one asked, and as Kylie prepped Daphne, she began to feel better about things. Cade would understand once he had a few hours to digest things, she told herself. He’d come to his senses and they’d talk things through like normal consenting adults that just needed to step away from the alcohol for a bit. Lots of people made mistakes in Vegas, she told herself as she packed away the stage makeup kit and began to take out the palettes she used for Daphne’s postshow interview makeup.

And as Daphne began to perform and the music swelled through the backstage area, Kylie sat in her chair and rubbed her aching forehead. She could almost believe that things were normal. Almost. Except when she rubbed her head, it provided her with a good look at the huge red-and-yellow wedding ring she had turned inward. The ring that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried.

That, and her phone was missing. She’d left it in her mad dash to get away from Cade. That was okay, though. She’d get a replacement phone when she got her next check.

Ginger wasn’t speaking to her, either. Every time she saw Kylie, she pursed her lips in a disapproving look and left the room. She took Snoopy on smoke breaks with her instead of Kylie, and Kylie tensed every time she saw Ginger talk to Daphne. But Daphne never freaked out and her mood was rather mellow, so Kylie had to assume that Ginger wasn’t saying anything.

So. Almost normal.

She twisted the wedding ring absently, staring in the mirror, and wondered what Cade was doing tonight. Heading back out to Botswana? More medical conferences? Or had he gone back home to New York? Maybe he was at a law office requesting an annulment even now. She ignored the guilty feeling that gave her, and the vague unhappiness.

It wasn’t meant to be. She needed to remember her priorities. She should call her nana, see if she was lucid again. Check with her caretakers to make sure Kylie’s account was up to date and everything was going well. See if Nana was screaming at everyone still. See if she still considered Kylie her “burden.”

But of course she didn’t have her phone. Cade did.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, the door to the greenroom opened and Cade Archer stepped in, looking inhumanly gorgeous and supremely pissed. Kylie froze in the director’s chair at the makeup stand, and she cringed in place as his furious gaze scanned the room and then locked squarely onto her.

Kylie didn’t want to play fair?

He’d fucking show her how dirty he could play, then.

For the first time in a very long time, Cade was so angry he could hardly think straight. He didn’t get mad when a business copied one of his patents illegally, selling poorly made equipment to customers who thought they were getting legitimate products. He simply sent his lawyers after them. He didn’t get mad when a massive donation of medical supplies to a war-torn country was stolen by local insurgents. He resent the supplies and had his organization send along trained guards to protect the goods and make sure they got to the people that needed them. He didn’t even get mad when he found out Daphne was using again. He was just disappointed.

But with Kylie?

He was livid.

Why couldn’t she accept that they were married? Sure, it had happened when they were drunk, but he was starting to think that these drunken interludes were some of the best things that had happened to him. The first night had brought him Kylie. The second had given him Kylie in marriage. Neither one he saw as a problem. He didn’t understand Kylie’s panic, either. Was she worried that Daphne would fire her? He’d handle Daphne. Was she worried that he would be upset with her? She couldn’t be, not the way she’d touched him and devoured him with soft, needy eyes that morning.

So he didn’t fucking get her. And when she’d run away like a coward? He really fucking didn’t get her. Running out midsex with both of them aching with need? Her taste still on his lips? Just so she could avoid having to lose an argument with him?

It was beyond frustrating.

He’d called Jerome again that afternoon. “I need more tickets to Daphne’s Vegas show tonight. Backstage passes, too.”

“Uh, everything okay, boss?” Jerome had asked. “You need to talk about it?”

Even though he and Jerome were more friends than employer-and-employee, he didn’t want to talk about it, no. “Just get the tickets for me. I’ll explain when I’m in a better mood.”

“All right, but I’m probably going to have to butter up some scalpers with some huge money. That concert’s been sold out for weeks.”

“I don’t care how much it takes,” Cade told him. “Just call me back when you’ve got the will-call details.”

“Got it.”

Jerome had called back a half hour later, told him the exorbitant amount the tickets had cost, and given him the details. And Cade showered, tried to get rid of his anger doing some remote work, failed, dressed for the show, found Kylie’s phone, got pissed all over again, and then eventually headed to the enormous music hall that was housing Daphne Petty’s big concert. Fans were everywhere, and the limo had to crawl its way to the entrance, which only irritated Cade even more. By the time he got his tickets and slung his backstage pass around his neck, he was in a foul mood, which was pretty unusual for him as he was considered the level-headed peacemaker of his group of friends.

But Kylie had pushed him past the limits of his patience. If she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted, then he was going to make her listen, damn it.

He stalked his way backstage, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark blue sports jacket. His own ring was still on his finger, and it was going to stay there, damn it. Kylie would see that it could be a good thing to be married to him, damn it. He was already enjoying the thought of being married to her. Waking up next to her every morning? Getting to fuck that sweet, gorgeous body of hers every night? Hearing her laugh whenever and wherever? He liked the thought of that more than he should.

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