Page 17 of Her Forever Billionaire

Maybe she’d discovered her penchant for anonymous mid-morning stands. Maybe she should try for another. But the idea of any other man repulsed her. None looked even remotely attractive—none could compare. She couldn’t shake him from her head. She dreamed of him, she thought she saw him in the distance on the street. And she sat in the office and stared out at the hills way too much. Stupid to imagine herself back out there—she’d much rather be indoors looking at beautiful art and design.

Trouble was, Jack Greene had the most beautifully designed body she’d ever seen. Memories flooded her and she struggled to keep on top of them—and on her body’s continual slow burn. So she worked even harder than usual, taking on several more projects. Working so hard and so long that by the end of each day she was so exhausted she slept—at least for some of the night.

Almost two months later, even more swamped and exhausted by her workload, she parked her car outside her flat. The old house still hadn’t sold, and she was glad, despite being the only tenant left in the big building. She locked the car and went to find a packet of instant food.

But someone was sitting on the deck. Her footsteps slowed as she walked nearer. Not sure she could trust her eyes. She knew that hair, that face, most definitely that body. He’d been in her dreams for weeks.

She couldn’t believe he was here. Or that he was wearing jeans and shirt quite like that. She remembered the strength in those thighs. The tight butt. Not to mention the hard, flat abs, the broad chest and the sleek curves of his shoulders as he’d arched above her. No fat, just long, lean muscle and smooth burnished skin. And the smattering of hair that arrowed to...

Yes. She stood transfixed at the bottom of the steps—because she knew that beneath the designer casual and the fancy watch the raw body was even better.

‘Hey, Kelsi.’ With his athletic grace he rose to his feet and smiled.

‘Jack,’ she swallowed. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘I wanted to see you.’

Why? All kinds of crazy reasons raced through her brain but none of the good options could be possible. It had to be bad, or maybe he was just passing and stopped to say hi or something. It couldn’t be that she’d made any kind of impact on him.

She didn’t have the courage to ask, didn’t have the courage to look into those blinding eyes again because one of the best things about her time with Jack was that it had been rejection-free—so she didn’t want to ask for it now. She settled on a safe question instead. ‘You want to come in for a coffee or something?’

A self-serving invite anyway. Coffee would clear her head—wake her up enough to work out whether this was just one of those hot dreams or not.

‘Thanks.’

Jack couldn’t wrench his gaze from her as he followed her up the stairs. Some sort of skull cap covered most of her hair, only a few blonde tufts appeared around the edges. Her face was as pale as ever but her eyes were really something—silver irises—almost as reflective as a mirror. They went perfectly with the shimmering silver dress that hung as the top layer over the black fabric swamping every inch of her skin. She looked like an ethereal nymph of the night. And she turned him on to an almost uncontrollable degree. He wanted to push the shiny thin fabric to the ground so he could see the perfect, petite treasure beneath. He wanted to slide the contacts from her eyes so he could see the true colour she so determinedly hid—and her true expression. Her entire outfit was a cover. So was her cool response to him now—or so he hoped anyway, because she hadn’t exactly been all immediate warmth and touch like the occasional reunions he’d had with other lovers. But then Kelsi wasn’t anything like those other lovers, was she? That was the problem—she was the only one to haunt him.

He watched her unlock her door. He could see the acceleration of her breathing, the faint colour deepening in her cheeks and he felt his own response deepen—horrific in its intensity. For months now all he’d been able to think about was the heat of her on that mad day by the beach. The sweetness, the wildness, the total sexiness.

It was a nightmare distraction. He needed his focus back—because his training was a mess. But it was an attitude problem, not his knee. He had to clear his head and to do that he needed to get Kelsi out of it. Never had a woman interfered with his goals before. Never had he allowed another person to influence his schedule the way Kelsi had. Not that she knew it—or was going to know it. No, this was all about him getting rid of the fantasy for good because he was furious with himself for being this pathetic. He had not got as far as he had by letting personal needs or wants get in the way of competition prep—he wasn’t going to derail now. That gold medal was going to be his.

He just hoped this would do it. He’d see her again and realise it hadn’t been that spectacular—that memory had somehow magnified how amazing they’d been together.

But now he was here and now it was worse—all he wanted was to have her again, to know her, to make her laugh. She was every bit as cute as he remembered, every bit as crazy, every bit as breath-taking. She had the towering platform shoes on again that were probably killing her toes with narrowness and still he was burning up worse than a meteor in the atmosphere.

But he forced the rampaging lust down, needing to check her reaction some more. She was reserved and not looking him in the eyes and keeping her distance. A new thing for him.

Still, what had he expected? He hadn’t, of course—he’d been indulging in the wicked side of fantasy, not the realistic. To buy time he stared around her little flat. There was a lot to take in—it was completely crammed with stuff. Books were a main feature, all lined up along a wall. He skimmed the spines. Many he’d read but he didn’t keep them as she did. He passed them on, left them somewhere. But Kelsi was definitely a ’keeper’ kind of person. Every inch of her apartment was filled—reflecting eclectic tastes and a very busy mind. There was enough confusion to cause a headache. The walls closed in on him—he didn’t keep ‘things’, he liked to travel so he could move fast and free.

He blinked at the visual cacophony, but slowly began to see some order in the chaos. Things weren’t tossed wherever, they were placed. And there was also the completely crazy. Like the Lilliputian-sized curling staircase in one corner of the lounge leading up to—the wall. Painted on the wall was not a doorway, as you’d expect, but a Japanese fan spread open.

‘Why?’ He pointed at it and looked at her.

She glanced at the mini-stairs. ‘Why not?’

Right. He grinned. He should have known. And, oh, man, her coolness was a temptation. He turned away from her, needing to get distracted again, else he’d just haul her to him caveman style and he really wanted to know he could be more controlled than a caveman. And her lack of super- obvious signals maybe meant she had some regrets. He hoped not—all he regretted was that he’d left. He should have taken her to his hotel until he’d blown her from his system completely.

So now he stopped by the wall where there was a giant picture frame hanging. A huge gilt number—it would be the focal point if he were sitting on the sofa. But it was empty—not even a blank canvas inside it, just the bare white wall. ‘Tell me about this.’

‘Watch.’ She flicked a switch and an image suddenly appeared in the frame.

He looked up—clamped to the ceiling was an old slide projector. He looked back to the frame and watched as she clicked through a series of slides—mostly modern paintings. Frankly weird ones.

‘You studied art,’ he said.

‘Art history, yes.’

‘But you did some yourself?’

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