Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel by Aria Hawthorne Page A

buildings down along Michigan Avenue.  They could escape from the weather
and relax by his fireplace; he could tour her through his penthouse, then scrounge
out something from his refrigerator and attempt to make them dinner.  It would
be a pleasant way to finish Valentine’s Day, and at the end of their meal, they
could decide together whether or not she wanted to spend the night.  He peered
down at Maribel.  She looked up at him with her priceless brown eyes.  Suddenly,
he reconsidered all of it.  She was too good for him, too good for his superficial
world—and she deserved better than to be corrupted by it.  
    Snowflakes
glazed her black hair and earmuffs like sugar.  He wanted nothing more than to
tow her into him and kiss her sweetness, but he knew he hadn’t earned the right. 
     “It’s
cold, too cold to spend any more time outside…” he said.  “We should think
about getting you home.”

Chapter Five
     
    It
was a long drive back to her apartment on the North side. 
    They
sat in silence.  Maribel felt his tension.  She knew he was thinking about
work.  When the Mercedes rolled up to the curb, the driver lowered the tinted
glass and acknowledged their arrival.  Maribel heard the driver’s exit before
seeing her own side door whisk open.  The driver held out his hand to assist
her, but she didn’t accept it.  Instead, she gazed back at Miles.  They had
barely spoken since their departure.
    “Thank
you so much.  I had a lovely time.”
    Miles
smiled—a reluctant, uncertain smile that made Maribel stop from exiting the car. 
Silence lingered between them.  He gazed at her with restraint.
    “It
was wonderful spending time with you, Maribel,” he finally said.
    She
understood the flat tone in his voice.  It had been a wonderful way to
spend Valentine’s Day, but now it was time for them to part ways.  They came
from different worlds, and now, they needed to return to them—separately.  He
touched her hand—briefly—before pushing her out of the car with his cold shale eyes. 
She forced a smile and extended her hand out to the driver who pulled her out
of the car and away from Miles.
     “Maribel!”
a voice cried out from the building. “Is that you?”
    “Yes,
Emma Jean.” Maribel looked up at her neighbor, who was dangling precariously
out of her third-story window, wearing a red feather boa and festive headband
with two bobbing hearts.  Music and gleeful laughter filtered down from her apartment
like invisible confetti.
    “What
are you doing out there in that fancy ride?” Emma Jean called back, inebriated
and squinting past her near-sighted vision. “And who the heck is that?”
    Miles
slowly lowered the tinted windows of the Mercedes and peered up at Emma Jean.
    “Well,
hello there, Mr. Handsome Mystery Man,” Emma Jean waved and blew Miles a kiss.
“The party’s up here.  C’mon on up…”
    Maribel
looked back at Miles’ designer suit and stormy eyes.  It looked like she had
been kidnapped by the mafia. 
    “And
you, Miss Martinez.  I’ve got your name tag already.  I’ve been waiting for you
all afternoon.  You can’t have a Melrose Place Christmas party without our sweet,
sensitive Allison Parker.”
    Maribel
glanced back at Miles who was still attempting to make sense of her drunken
neighbor.
    “Melrose
Place—it’s a ’90s-Aaron-Spelling-nighttime-soap-opera-melodrama-TV show-themed-party,”
Maribel tried to clarify, then shook her head.  “Don’t ask…”
    “C’mon
up, already,” Emma Jean drawled at Miles.  “I’ll make you a name tag, too.  That
suit is just perfect.  You can be Jack Wagner/Dr. Peter Burns—my nemesis.”
    Suddenly,
there was a crash from inside the apartment. Emma Jean pulled herself back from
the window ledge and called inside.  “Are you all catfighting Heather Locklear style? 
Or just being clumsy?” Her inebriated laughter trickled down upon them, and
Miles peered over to Maribel.
    “You
wanna come