Page 61 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“Hey, buddy,” I said quietly, scooping him into a football hold so I can ruffle his ears. “How’re you doing?”

The dog gives me one of his bright-eyed smiles, wiggles happily and licks my hand. Instant stress relievers that will also be unavailable after the Big Move.

I kiss his furry forehead, set him down and head for my new drink cart. Which Bellamy has, naturally, fully stocked with nice new crystal tumblers and my favorite gin and tonic water.

I pour liberally and sip long and appreciatively. I’m considering the relative wisdom of topping the glass off again when I hear her stir.

“Hey,” she says in the throaty just woke up voice that’s a close second to the sound of her coming for me in terms of sexiest sounds in the world. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

I turn to watch her sit up and stretch, my heartbeat a dull thump in my throat. “I thought I’d let you sleep for a minute.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m thoughtful like that. Get over here.”

She gets up and heads over, revealing a tiny pink satin robe that barely reaches the tops of her sweet thighs. The heavy curves of her breasts and prominent points of her nipples are on display. Her swaying hips and shapely legs are on display. She hits me with the steady beam from those luminous eyes. A sultry smile.

And I am lost.

I set my drink down, freeing both arms to pull her in close. The overwhelming relief at finally being able to touch her again sends a shudder through my body. She feels so warm and solid. Her skin is still velvety soft and smells like roses. That hasn’t changed. Thank God it hasn’t changed.

I breathe her in, squeezing her hard enough now to make up for all the nights when I wanted to but couldn’t.

And she squeezes back.

“Did you miss me?” she asks.

I open up enough daylight between us to reach into my pocket, withdraw a jade bangle and slide it onto her wrist as she gasps with surprise.

“Not at all,” I say, my words wedging themselves in my throat. My mouth is full of things I can’t tell her. Like how the jewelry store in the lobby of my swanky hotel called my name all week and finally insisted that I spend the better part of a late afternoon trying to decide what to bring back for her. Or the way I examined every bracelet, bangle and bobble the place had, becoming an expert on jade in the process. I can never tell her that I felt an unnatural fascination with the side of the store that displayed engagement rings and had a difficult time not wandering over to see what was what.

Even if I wanted to tell her these things, which I don’t, the words feel as though they’re locked in maximum security deep inside my own personal Rikers Island. I don’t know why I have so many walls and barriers surrounding me on every side. And I have zero idea how to access the treasure trove of secrets I’ve got buried in all my dark corners. Which is probably a good thing when you consider what I really want to tell her.

Let’s work something out. I can’t picture my life without you.

And above all?

Don’t leave.

“This is gorgeous,” she says, stretching out her arm to admire the bangle. “Thank you.”

Another thing to add to my Cannot Say list?

I live for your smile, Bellamy.

Live. For. It.

“Glad you like it.” I turn away and reach for my drink again as a distraction, then sip without tasting.

“How was your flight?” she asks.

“Long.”

“Poor baby. Are you hungry? I saved some—”

As if I could choke down some food right now. “I’m fine.”

The silence that follows is awkward enough for me to risk a glance at her. I catch her just as she hitches her smile back into place.

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