The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) by JJ Knight, Deanna Roy, Lucy Riot

teaches you to make a little noise with your mouth.”
    Bennett leaned against the post between the stalls. “A noise? With your mouth?”
    I blushed fiercely. “You know. Like this.” I made the sound, a sort of “chick chick” noise made by sucking air through clenched teeth.
    Lucky popped his head up in confusion. I ran my hand along his nose. “Just practicing,” I said. “I guess anything works as long as it’s consistent. A few of the trainers say, ‘Come on.’ It’s really a combination of command and knees and reins.”
    “I could probably train him to go when I say ‘Stop.’”
    I shook my head at Bennett, but laughed anyway. “That would just be wrong.”
    He sipped his wine, grinning at me. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”
    I twirled my glass to watch the dark liquid swish around. More was gone than I remembered drinking. “You have to admit I made a killer entrance to the party.”
    “You did indeed,” he said.
    This would make an easy segue, so I took it. “Quinn arranged for the carriage. Do you know where he went?”
    Bennett shifted a little. “Well, he’s had to handle a little … issue.”
    I withdrew my hand from Lucky and turned around. “What do you mean?”
    “It’s probably already hit the gossip sites. Such dirty business.” He took another drink.
    My stomach felt like lead. “Do you mean me? And Quinn?”
    Bennett shook his head. “Oh, no. Even TMZ isn’t that on the ball. His last fiancée. Apparently she’s entered rehab over their ‘toxic relationship.’ Trying to rival the Bieber–Gomez thing, probably. She’s an actress. All publicity is good publicity.”
    My stomach heaved. I racked my brains trying to remember when Quinn’s last split happened. “Hasn’t it been a few months?”
    “More like a few weeks.” Bennett stared into his glass.
    I pressed my back against the stall door, trying to keep the world from listing sideways. “Is he going to go help her?”
    “Not sure,” Bennett said. “But he did get caught in a storm of paparazzi hanging out at the gate.”
    “Don’t you have security or something?” I pictured Quinn going down in a heap of photographers, like football players on a fumble.
    “Public road,” he said.
    I downed the glass of wine in a single gulp and handed Bennett the glass. “I have to help him!” I said.
    Bennett took the glass. “Might want to steer clear of it for a while.”
    “Of course not!” I said. “He’ll need someone to lean on. To talk to!”
    Bennett laughed. “Okay, Juliet. Go rescue him.”
    I cursed my shoes as I dashed through the stable and out into the night. I was at the back gate in an instant, but the party was carrying on as if nothing had happened.
    A few people reached out as if to stop me to talk, but I ignored them, frantically looking for Quinn.
    He wasn’t anywhere out on the patio.
    I strode boldly to the French doors. I had only been inside the mansion a few times. Once, when I was four or so, I fell down and Amelia carried me to the sink to wash off my bloody knees. A couple other times I went in with Quinn when we were very small and Mrs. B brought me in from the rain to play.
    Once Quinn was old enough to really argue with his father, we never went inside together again. He wanted to be out and away from the mansion.
    But now, I jerked on the handle and went right inside.
    Directly beyond the doors was a long room full of furniture and an elegant wood bar. A few older party guests lounged here, drinking and talking quietly. They all turned to look at me when I burst inside.
    Quinn wasn’t here.
    From this room you could go straight through to the entrance foyer or off to the kitchen. I headed to the front, walking beneath the grand staircase with its gleaming curved banister.
    A few men stood near the base of the stairs, smoking cigars. They stepped aside at my arrival and tucked the smoking ends away from me.
    “Have you seen Quinn?” I asked them.
    “He went flying