Tempting The Billionaire

And now, as Ngozi stood there with her hand seemingly engulfed by his with his thumb gently grazing her pulse, she shivered and sought control of her body. Her pulse. Her heartbeat. Her breaths. The pounding of the sweet fleshy bud nestled between the lips of her core. Damn.

All of it surprised her. Never had she had such an instantaneous reaction to a man before.

Needing to be released from the spell he cast upon her, Ngozi pulled her hand from his and forced a smile that she hoped didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “Nice to finally meet, Mr. Castillo,” she said, proud of her restored cool composure.

It was all a sham, and she deserved an award for the performance.

“Chance,” he offered, sliding the hand she once held into the pocket of his slacks.

“Right this way, y’all,” Alessandra said, leading them across the stately round foyer, past the staircase and down the hall into the family room, where the glass doors were retracted, creating an entertaining space that flowed with people lounging inside or outside on the patio or around the pool.

Alek spotted them and excused himself from a couple he was talking with to cross the room to them. It was similar to watching a politician or other public figure as he spoke to each person who stopped him while still moving toward them. The man was charismatic.

Ngozi took a sip of her champagne as she glanced at Alessandra over the rim. The look in her friend’s eyes as she watched her husband was nothing but love. She’d found her happily-ever-after.

A twinge of pain radiated across her chest, and Ngozi forced herself to smile in spite of it.

“Careful, Ngozi,” Alessandra said, holding out her arm in front of her. “Don’t get in the way of this bro love, girl.”

Ngozi looked on as Chance took a few strides to meet Alek. The men, equally handsome, confident and strong in build, clasped hands and then moved in for a brotherly hug complete with a solid slap of their hand against the other’s back. It barely lasted a moment, but it was clear they were close.

As the men talked quietly to one another, Ngozi eyed Chance’s profile, surprised by her reaction to him. And she still felt a tingle of awareness and a thrill that ruffled her feathers. He smiled at something Alek said, and her stomach clenched as a handsome face was instantly transformed into a beautiful one.

“He looks happy,” Alessandra said softly to herself.

Ngozi glanced over at her, seeing the hope on her face that her words were true. She remembered Alessandra explaining Chance’s absence because he had been left at the altar by his fiancée and was in the Dominican Republic recovering from his heartache. That had been nearly nine months ago.

What woman would leave him behind?

Ngozi had never asked for any more details than Alessandra offered, but that was before she’d seen him. Now a dozen or more questions flew to mind with ease. Her curiosity was piqued.

“I’m going up to get the baby,” Alessandra said. “Be right back.”

Ngozi glanced around the room, raising her flute in toast to those she knew professionally or personally. When her eyes landed back on the men, she found Chance’s eyes on her. She gasped a little. Her pulse raced.

He gave her a wolfish grin—slow and devastating—as he locked his gaze with hers. They made their way toward her, and Ngozi forced herself to look away as she felt a shiver race down her spine.

“I wanted to finally greet you, Ngozi,” Alek said.

She looked up at him with a smile. “I thought I was invisible,” she teased, presenting her cheek for a kiss as she pretended Chance was not standing there, as well.

“Chance told me Alessandra already made the introductions between you two,” Alek said.

She stiffened her back and glanced up at Chance. “Yes, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” she said.

“Same here,” he agreed. “Especially since we’re sharing godparent duties.”

“Right, right,” she agreed with a genuine smile. “We’ll rock, paper, scissors for overnight stays.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, biting his bottom lip as if to refrain himself. He shared a brief look with Alek, who then shook his head and chuckled.

And she knew—she just knew—Chance was going to say they could have overnights together.

“Really, fellas?” she asked, eyeing them both like a teacher reprimanding naughty schoolboys.

“What?” they both asked innocently in unison.

Ngozi was surprised to see Alek, normally severe and businesslike, standing before her with mirth in his eyes. “So, we all have that one thing or one person—a vice—that makes us different. Today, Alek Ansah,” she said before turning to face Chance, “I have met yours.”

Chance’s smile broadened as he looked down at her. “And what—or who—makes you different, Ngozi Johns?”

She loved how her name sounded on his lips. “Oh, is there something about me that needs fixing?” she asked, forcing herself not to quiver under his intense stare as she met it with one of her own.

“From what I can see, not one damn thing,” Chance responded with ease, his voice deep and masculine.

“On that note,” Alek said, clearing his throat as he looked from one to the other, “I’ll take my leave.”

And he did, leaving them alone.

“Ngozi!”

At the sound of her name, Ngozi broke their stare and turned to find Marisa Martinez standing beside her. She gave the petite woman with a wild mane of shoulder-length curly hair a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, Marisa,” she said, her eyes taking in the clarity in the woman’s eyes and feeling sweet relief.

The former party girl who lived hard and fast off the allowance she received from the Dalmount dynasty had developed an addiction to alcohol and drugs that put both her and Alessandra’s freedom in jeopardy. As the head of the family, Alessandra felt it her obligation to guide and protect the entire clan made up of her two aunts, Leonora Dalmount and Brunela Martinez, her cousin Victor Dalmount and his bride, Elisabetta, and Marisa, Brunela’s daughter. That sense of duty had led Alessandra to seek out Marisa at a house party and to get caught in the middle of a police drug raid.

Ngozi was called on by her client to represent them both. The charges were dropped, but Alessandra had forced Marisa to either attend the long-term rehab program Ngozi arranged or be disowned.

Marisa chose the former, and six months later, she’d returned drug-free.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did to help me,” Marisa said, before lifting up on her toes to give Ngozi an impromptu hug.

“Well, I thank you for not letting my hard work go to waste,” she said, returning the hug. “You look good.”

Marisa released her. “I feel better,” she said, her eyes serious before she forced a smile and walked away with one last squeeze of Ngozi’s hand.

She watched her walk over to join her mother and aunt Leonora by the fireplace. With her work as a criminal attorney who insisted on pro bono work and tough cases, Ngozi was well acquainted with thankful clients.

“I’ve heard you’re one of the best attorneys on the East Coast.”

Him.

Ngozi took a sip of her champagne as she eyed him with an arched brow. “Just the East Coast?” she teased.

He chuckled.

“I’m kidding,” she rushed to say, reaching out to grasp his wrist.

His pulse pounded against her fingertips. She released him.

“La tentadora,” Chance said.

The temptress.

Her entire body flushed with warmth.

Chance was Dominican on his mother’s side, and like many other Afro-Latinos did appear to be what was standardly thought of as such. Much like Laz Alonso, Victor Cruz and Carmelo Anthony.

“Me das demasiado crédito,” she said, loving the surprise that filled his deep brown eyes at her using his native tongue to tell him that he gave her too much credit.

“Ah! ¿Tu hablas español?” he asked.

“Yes, I speak Spanish,” she answered with a nod.

“¿Pero alguna vez te ha susurrado un hombre en español mientras te hace el amor?”

Ngozi gasped in surprise and pleasure and excitement at his question of whether a man had whispered to her in Spanish while making love. She recovered quickly. “No,” she answered him, before easing past his strong build and imposing presence to leave.

“Usted tiene algo que esperar,” Chance said from behind her.

Then you have something to look forward to.

Chance Castillo.

She gave in to her own temptation and glanced back at him over her shoulder. He had turned his attention to greeting Alek’s younger brother, Naim. She pressed her fingertips to her neck as she turned away, admitting regret that his attention was no longer on her.

In truth, she couldn’t remember feeling that affected by a man in a long, long time.

She pursed her lips and released a stream of air, intending to calm herself.

Ngozi stopped a male waiter and set her near-empty flute on the tray. “Thank you,” she said. Her stomach rumbled, and she looked around with a slight frown, hoping no one had heard it. Quickly, she turned and tapped the shoulder of the waiter. “Is there another one like you with a tray of hors d’oeuvres? A sista is hungry.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “The food will be served after the ceremonies.”

Damn. Ngozi checked her platinum watch as he walked away.

She crossed the room and made her way outdoors. During the day, the September air was still pleasant. It was the early mornings and late nights that brought on a chill that reminded her summer was drawing to an end.

As she neared the Olympic-sized pool, she felt an urge to jump in and sink beneath the crystal clear depths to swim to the other end and back. Instead, she settled for slipping off one of her sandals to dip her toes in the water, causing it to ripple outward.

Dennis loved to swim.

She felt sadness, closing her eyes as she remembered his looking back at her over his shoulder before he dived into the deep end of her parents’ pool back in some of the rare moments of free time they had during law school.

She smiled a bit, remembering how happy they were then.

That was a long time ago.

“Excuse me, Ms. Johns.”

She was surprised by the same waiter who took her drink, now standing beside her with a sandwich on his tray.

“Courtesy of Olga, the house manager, per the request of Mr. Castillo,” he said.

Ngozi looked up and bit back a smile at Chance standing in the open doorway, raising his flute to her in a silent toast. Her stomach rumbled again as she bowed her head to him in gratitude. She assumed he had overhead her conversation with the waiter.

“One sec, please,” she said, holding the man’s wrist to keep her balance as she slipped her damp foot back into her sandal.

Once done, she took the sandwich and cloth napkin from him and bit into it. Her little grunt was pure pleasure at the taste of seasoned and warmed roast beef with a gooey cheese and a tasty spread on the bread. “Thank you,” she said to him around the food, with a complete lack of the decorum she had been taught by her parents.

“No problem.”

As he walked away to finish his duties, Ngozi turned her back to the house and enjoyed the view of the manicured lawns to avoid people watching her eat.

“Ngozi.”

Him.

Her body went on high alert. Every pulse point on her pounded. What is wrong with me? Am I in heat?

“Yes?” she said, patting the corners of her mouth with the napkin before turning to face him. Wow. He’s fine.

Chance was nursing his second glass of champagne and squinting from the sun of the late summer season as he eyed her.

“You shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach,” she said, offering him the other half of the sandwich still on the saucer.

He eyed it and then her. “My appetite isn’t for food, Ngozi,” he said before taking another deep sip of his drink.

“The only thing I have for you is half of this sandwich, Mr. Castillo,” she said, keeping her voice cool and even.

He chuckled.

“Akwaaba. Akwaaba. Memo o akwaaba.”

They both turned to find LuLu Ansah, Alek’s mother, standing in the open doorway looking resplendent in traditional African white garb with gold embroidery with a matching head wrap that was simply regal. Both the Ansah and Dalmount families surrounded her, with Alek and Alessandra beside her with the baby in Alessandra’s arms. Both she and Alek looked around before they spotted Chance and Ngozi, waving them over.

They rushed to take their place, Ngozi gratefully handing the saucer and the remainder of the sandwich to one of the waiters.

“Welcome. Welcome. We welcome you,” LuLu translated, looking around at everyone gathered with a warm smile that made her eyes twinkle.

Ngozi leaned forward a bit to eye her goddaughter, who was just eight days old. She was beautiful. A perfect blend of Alek and Alessandra, with tightly coiled ebony hair and cheeks that were already round. She couldn’t wait to hear her name. Alessandra had not budged in revealing it early.

“Today we are honored to officially present a new addition to our family. We will have both a religious ceremony to baptize our little beauty to ensure she is favored by God, and then an outdooring, which is a traditional Ghanaian ceremony when a baby is taken outside the home for the first time, given a name and prepared with the love and wisdom we all hope for her. Is that okay with you all?” she asked, looking around at the faces of everyone in attendance with a sweet, loving expression.

People applauded or shouted out their approval.

“And so, we welcome into our world, our community, our village... Aliyah Olivia Ansah,” LuLu said with pride. “May we all pray for her, guide her and love her.”

Alessandra pressed a kiss to Aliyah’s head, and then Alek pressed one to her temple.

She was so loved.

Ngozi was happy for them and couldn’t help but smile.

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