Billionaires Meet Millionaire (A Steamy Romance) (12 page)

"The
little tramp who you have given a sweet little nickname. The tease
who has got you drooling all over her like a fucking sick moron."
Another dramatic pause and Daniel grinned again as Niall angrily
tried again to push him away. He only got his head yanked,
again.

It was
unpleasant that his brother knew of his feelings but not very
surprising. Had he honestly thought Daniel wouldn't pick up on
that? No, even if he hadn't realized the mammoth mistake it had
been to invite Olta to sit at his table, Daniel would still have
known.

"The
bitch you are going to cut loose on Monday and let sink into the
depths of oblivion where she belongs. Am I making myself clear?"
Daniel pulled Niall face so close that their noses were
touching.

Niall
had known that this been coming as soon Daniel had started
talking. It was the logicaloutcome of his rant.

"No."
Niall was surprised at how firm he managed to sound.

Daniel
cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

"No? No, I
haven't made myself clear or no, you're not going to cut her
loose?" He asked.

"No, I'm
not cutting her loose. You've made yourself perfectly clear,
though. Both your meaning and your capability to use a thesaurus
are very clear to me." Niall said calmly. He really sounded far
more confident than he felt. Apparently he still had some spine
left. He briefly wondered where his common sense had gone to,
though. Insulting his brother was never a smart thing to do but
right now it was downright stupid.

Niall
braced himself for his brother's next move but to his
surprise Daniel let go and got up.

"Okay,
so don't cut her loose. Listen I need to take a shower and then
I'll be heading over to Jason. Be seeing you, bro." And with that
he walked down the hall to his room leaving Niall looking after
him, completely stunned.

Any
thoughts about Daniel actually being okay with Niall refusing him
were immediately dismissed. Daniel was far too angry to leave it at
that.

If
anything Niall had just gone and dug a very deep hole for himself…
and Olta. Niall had a sinking feeling he had just made the worst
call in his life. But there was no going back now.

Getting
up proved a rather painful affair and Niall wondered just how much
damage Daniel had done. As he tasted his own blood on his tongue he
guessed quiet a lot.

As he fished
his key out of his pocket he took a deep breath. Pain shot through
his body. Turning the key he softly murmured to himself.

"Time to face
the music."

He
didn't see Olta as he entered the room. At soft gasp alerted him to
her position. She was standing in the doorway of his bathroom.
Niall cast his eyes down and didn't say anything. What could he
possibly say?

Instead
he locked his door, switched on his lights and slowly made his way
to his bed and sat down. He kept his back towards his bathroom and
Olta. Fuck, it hurt to sit down.

He heard
Olta rummaging in the bathroom and wondered what she was doing.
Maybe she was getting some aspirin, that'd be really
cool.

He
sighed again and winced at the pain. He hoped Daniel hadn't
actually broken anything or caused any internal hemorrhage. Going
to the hospital wasn't really on his wish list. He doubted he could
even drive right now.

Niall
heard Olta approaching him softly and slowly. He kept his
eyes on his lap and his hands. It reminded him of how Olta had
looked down when he had upped the game earlier. How long ago was
that? It felt like forever but glancing at his watch he saw it was
just six thirty. Tickle thing, time.

Olta
was standing in front of him now. She didn't speak but
squatted down in front of him. Niall felt torn between wanting to
look at her and not wanting to see any of the pity or dismissal or
maybe even disgust on her face. Thank you Daniel, with any luck she
would cut herself off. That would probably be a blessing in
disguise. Niall really didn't want her to but he couldn't blame her
if she did. But he didn't want a pity act either. He kept his gaze
firmly on his hands.

Niall
saw her left hand take his right and she turned the palm
upwards. She had small hands, he mused, soft too. And they were
trembling. Her other hand came up and it put a couple of aspirin in
his. She had actually gotten him aspirin. She drew back her hands
and she took his left hand and put his toothbrush cup filled with
water in it. If the dancing been less intense he would probably
taken offence to her motherly actions but as it was he couldn't
help but be grateful for it. He'd be lying if he said that Olta
touches didn't feel good or that he didn't want them.

She got up and
walked back to bathroom.

Niall
downed the pills, emptying the cup. God, even that hurt. He
stared at the cup in his hand wondering absentmindedly why he heard
the water running.

Olta
again squatted down in front him. She took the cup from his
hand and put it down.

"It
needs to be cleaned." Niall heard her say.

He
didn't miss the way her voice slightly faltered. But before it
registered he felt a trembling hand on his chin, tilting his head
upwards a little. His eyes landed on her face. She was pale and
looking intently at his mouth. Suddenly he felt a cool wet cloth on
the corner of his mouth. Ah, a split lip, that would explain the
blood he tasted. He studied Olta's face as she cautiously cleaned
his wounds. He felt her hand tremble through the cloth but she
looked concentrated and concerned. Niall didn't see any of the
things he had feared. He heard himself let out a sigh of relief and
winced at the pain it caused. Definitely a bruised or cracked rib
or two. Great.

The
cloth now moved close to Niall' right eye. He flinched slightly at
the contact. Funny, he couldn't remember that move. But then he did
remember hitting the wall, face forward.

"If
you're ever bored or something and your friends are busy or
something, you're welcome to come over. My mother is cool like
that. Just don't come by any later than eleven in the evening."
Olta said softly.

Niall
didn't react. Largely because he had been looking at trying
to catch her eye and hadn't really heard what she had said. He
wanted her to look her in eyes. He needed to see what they said. He
had heard her voice falter again. She was pale, trembling and her
voice was faltering. She was scared, Niall concluded. For a moment
he felt oddly proud that his deductive abilities still worked
between the pain on the one hand and Olta's ministrations on the
other. But the fact that Olta was scared wasn't good and feelings
of pride vanished.

Then he
registered exactly what she had said. And now he didn't react
because he didn't know what to do. He really should do something,
though.

The
cloth disappeared and Olta moved away from him. He heard her walk
to bathroom. Again water started running and he hoped Olta would
come back with a fresh cloth. It had felt good.

Olta
did come back but unfortunately she didn't have a fresh
cloth. She only squatted in front him once more. Niall was once
again staring at his hands.

"I'll leave
you alone now. The bath is running and I've left your clothes are
in the bathroom."

At this he
looked up and did catch her eye. Yes, she was definitely scared but
there also was her usual combination of insecurity and knowledge.
Well, she sure had the knowledge. But still, no pity and no
rejection.

She got up and
turned towards her bag.

Suddenly
he realized what she meant by leaving. Niall didn't want her to and
his mind was working hard to find the right words but he drew a
blank.

Footsteps were heard in the hall. Niall saw Olta froze up
at the sound.

"Going
now. And oh, I of course got to watch Fight Club, should anybody
ask." Daniel called through the door, his voice light with
amusement. And then his footsteps faded away. Niall kept his eyes
on Olta but he did take notice of cover his brother going to use.
Fight Club, good one, he thought sarcastically. Of course last time
it had been Godfather II.

Olta
was still frozen in her spot her gaze fixed on the door.
Niall got up, slowly. He wanted to take her in her arms and tell
she had nothing to worry about. That it had been just a fight. That
Daniel was his problem, not hers. Even if that was a lie and even
if Olta would probably know that.

As Niall
stood, however, Olta snapped out her trance. She turned and looked
at him. Now she just looked scared. But as Niall walked over to
her, she took a couple of breaths and the fear subsided. Niall was
shocked to see something very akin to guilt take its place. What
the hell!? Why in the world would Olta feel guilty? No, he was
reading her wrong.

Olta’s
eyes darted all over his room and she was biting her lip
nervously.

Niall
stretched his hand out to do something, anything to put her
at ease but Olta stepped away and grabbed her bag from the
floor.

"Your bath…
ready… overflow." She mumbled as she headed for the door.

Olta
unlocked the door and left his bedroom without looking back
at Niall.

Niall
stared at his bedroom door in shock. He had done it again.
He had managed to send Olta running, again. He kept staring at his
door for some time before he realized he hadn't said one single
word to Olta the entire time.

"You stupid
fuck!" He shouted at himself, regretting it instantly as he cringed
in pain.

He slowly
walked to his bathroom and found he was just in time to keep the
bath from overflowing.

C
hapter Twelve

Olta
wasn't entirely sure how but she had done it. She had
finished all of her homework. As she gave her essay on Greece a
final once over she almost cracked a grin. The therapeutic
qualities of homework never seized to amaze Olta.

Putting
the essay aside she took a deep breath and landed herself on her
love seat. She picked up the remote of her stereo set. Letting the
comfortable sounds of Saint Germain wash over her Olta went over
the last days' events, yet again.

Her
mother was harassing her continuously. All out of love, of course,
but that didn't make it any less annoying. After she had found her
daughter sitting on the bench on Friday evening her mother had been
worried. She had bought that Olta's paleness and shivering were
solely due to being out in the cold for four hours. That, however,
didn't explain Olta's rather evasive and skittish behaviour.
Knowing her mother would press the matter until satisfied Olta had
been forced to come up with something that would be convincing
enough. When telling a lie, always stay close to truth. Her father
had taught her that.

"I don't
know, I'm not quite here yet, you know. I miss Mortis and John and
the guys and well just, haven't got male friends here yet. And I,
you know, keep thinking about…" Olta had said, trailing off. She
had seen her mother's worry and heard it her voice as she spoke.
She had bit her lip. It hadn't been a lie, more an omission of
sorts. But still.

"Olta, I
understand, really I do. Hey, I'm not settled yet either and I
don't think Maggie is either even if she seems to be her happy
self. Sweetie it whasn't even been two weeks. And besides I think
you can consider Niall a friend. Looks to me like the boy went a
bit beyond the call of duty this week. And when next time he and
his friends ask you to hang out with them, you really should just
go." Olta had glared at her mother and all she had gotten in return
was a sympathetic smile.

"If?
" Olta had corrected.

"When."
Her mother had responded and Olta had rolled her eyes. Remembering
her open invitation to Niall she decided to give her mother a
heads-up. No matter how doubtful Olta was he would actually drop
by.

"Well,
maybe. I did tell Niall he could drop by any time. I don't think
he'll will but if he does, please lay off him. Just treat him as if
he was Deanor possibly David ok?" Olta had said quickly, looking at
her mother pleadingly. Her mother's smile hadn't wavered but it had
turned more and more into a smirk.

"Of course,
why wouldn't I?" Her mother said in mock innocence.

"Mamma!"
Olta had wailed and the serious mood had dissipated and they had
shared a comfortable silence.