Page 65 of The Billionaires

She looks out of breath also, her face even more flushed. Glancing down, I see her legs spread in front of me like an offering. My heartbeat speeds up further. She’s wearing panties, but like the nightie, they are sheer.

The urge to rip fabric into shreds intensifies.

“I have a new idea for dessert,” I say hoarsely without taking my eyes off the prize.

She licks her lips. Her eyes are heavy-lidded as she nods. Taking that for permission, I grip the flimsy fabric of her panties and pull it aside, none-too-gently. It rips in my grasp. Oh, well. I guess that was meant to be.

Mouth watering, I bend over the dark patch of curls exposed to my gaze. I love that she’s all natural, like the perfect Roman goddess that she is. Reverently, I kiss her thigh. Her skin is soft and silky to the touch, and she gasps as I place another kiss higher up.

The spot I kissed pebbles with goosebumps.

I shift to move my lips higher yet—only to jolt at a strange sound by the kitchen entrance.

Then a thousand ceiling sconces light up, blinding me with sudden brightness.

What the hell?

I jerk to my feet and glare at the source of the distraction—Elijah, who’s pointing a fucking revolver at me, of all things.

An ancient-looking revolver at that—trust Elijah and his butlery sensibilities to get an antique.

At the sight of Juno and me, his eyes go wide and his face red. “I’m so sorry, sir!” He lowers the gun. “I thought you were an intruder and?—”

I’m not listening. Grabbing a stunned Juno, I set her on her feet behind me, onto one of the few areas of the floor clear of the mess I’ve made.

Making sure her body is hidden from view by mine, I round on Elijah, not bothering to hide my wrath. “A fucking gun?”

My butler looks like he wants to sink through the floor. “This is Florida, sir.”

“Sure, I must have missed it when they were handing out deadly weapons as we exited the plane. Antiques, at that.”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir.” Elijah backs away. “I’ll get the lights on the way out.”

Except Elijah is not looking where he’s going and his foot lands on a large shard of glass resting in a splatter of panna cotta. Predictably, the shard slides—like a banana peel in a fucking cartoon. As if acting out a scene from that same cartoon, Elijah flails his arms wildly before falling on his ass.

The gun slips from his grasp, hitting the floor with a clank of metal on tile.

Before I can move to help, a deafening boom assaults my eardrums—followed by an explosion of pain.

CHAPTER 25

JUNO

Everything that happened after Lucius walked in on me in the kitchen was dream-like. His licking my fingers, the kissing… of lips and elsewhere. When Elijah barged in with a gun, it was just as surreal as the rest—that is, until the gun went off.

As soon as the bang hits my ears, an overdose of adrenaline smashes sanity into my brain. Lucius staggers, grabbing his head, and to my horror, I see that it’s gushing blood as if it were its job.

Gasping, I rush toward him, as does Elijah, who’s managed to scramble to his feet despite sliding in the panna cotta a few times.

“Sir!” His British accent is extra thick. “I shot you!”

That was my initial fear as well, but with the clarity only possible when one is on the verge of a heart attack, I spot bits of broken glass around Lucius.

I dart a glance at the ceiling.

A sconce is missing.

“I think you shot the light fixture,” I yell at Elijah. “That’s what fell on him!”

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