Page 56 of Billion Dollar Mistake

I take a breath and sit down. Careful not to lean my back too far into the chair because his arm would be just behind my neck. I don't know this guy and wouldn’t feel comfortable being that close.

“Your boss is smooth, isn't he?” Grant asks me.

I turn to face him. “Yeah, he’s very subtle,” I say sarcastically.

The other two are talking amongst themselves. I want to interrupt and ask them if they can talk to this guy instead. I'm so new to the company. Jesus. It's like they're just feeding me to the wolves right now. I don’t want to say the wrong thing or reveal too much. He could be a potential client. I want to prove I am worthy of my spot in the company.

“His company has been a really good place to work for. So I think you'd be making a mistake not working with Bentley.”

A deep rumble leaves his chest. “He seems to really know how to hire people. I sense you’re being completely honest.”

“I am,” I respond. I believe I try to always be kind and honest.

I take a sip of my drink, but it goes down the wrong hole. I choke on a bubble. I’m coughing when Grant’s hand touches my back, and he leans forward. Close to my face. “Are you okay? Do you want some water?”

My eyes prickle with tears from the bubbles of the champagne. Oh, God. What a great impression.

I nod. “Please.”

His hand is still on my back as he tries to wave down a server. I look too until my gaze lands on dark, pissed-off eyes from across the yacht.

Jeremy.

I struggle to catch my breath. The air thickens with an unspoken tension. His arms, tense and unmoving, are crossed over his chest. His gaze, icy and piercing, bores into me as if he can read every thought running through my mind. My heart races, but it’s not from his obvious dislike of the man beside me. No, it’s something deeper, something electric that sparks between us. My eyes sweep over his impeccable body. He's stupidly gorgeous.

The way his muscles strain against the fabric of his shirt makes my fingers twitch with an undeniable desire to touch him, to trace over the contours of his tight jaw, up his neck, and into that perfectly-styled dark hair.

He’s frowning, an expression of displeasure is etched across his stunning features. The sunglasses that had been on his face now rest on top of his head. They must have covered his eyes until he spotted me.

Oh, crap! Panicking, I attempt to remove the guy's unwanted hand that still rests on my back. Leaning forward, I’m relieved when Grant’s touch slips from me.

I stand in a rush. “I don’t want to bother you. I’ll go find myself some water,” I say to Grant and then tell Dalton and Poppy I’ll be back.

I hurry off toward Jeremy. I don't want him to think… If roles were reversed, I’d be devastated, so I do what I’d like to be done to me. I move toward him and really take in his outfit. Tan-colored loafers that match perfectly his tan shorts. My favorite is his white linen shirt rolled up his forearms. It looks delectable against his sun-kissed skin, with the dusting of chest hair peeking out of the top of his shirt.

He's manly, warm, and apparently extremely sexy when pissed off.

He meets me with his chest rising and falling. I'm still holding my glass, but he doesn’t have one, so I lower it to a nearby table. When we stand toe to toe, he stares down at me. “Who was that guy?”

“I don't know,” I answer honestly.

Luckily there’s not too many people around us on the deck of the boat. And the ones that are around, are too engrossed in their own conversations to focus on us.

My throat dries in panic. I’ve hurt him. I swallow and explain. “Bentley introduced me to him. I think he's going to be a potential client.”

His features don’t change. “Why did he… Fuck, why was he touching you?” His tone is annoyed. Not in anger but hurt.

“I was choking on stupid champagne bubbles,” I mumble. “I'm such a mess.”

“You're not a mess, Nova.” We stay silent. “I just didn’t like seeing his hands on you.”

You don't say…

“I don't want anyone else touching you.” I feel every word under my skin.

“Why?” I ask, unable to hold back.

He inclines his face, so his mouth meets my ear. “You know why,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. I shake my head softly, but I don't breathe. I hold it as I wait for him to explain.

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