Page 8 of The Billionaires

I sigh. Maybe I should’ve explained to those people how much oxygen would be produced by the vertical greenery I’m planning to cover all the skyscrapers with. Or that I would’ve planted new trees in Smart Central Park once the construction was over. Or that Novus Rome will strive to have a negative carbon footprint, with self-driving electric cars used as public transport and solar panels covering every surface.

Unfortunately, explaining isn’t my strong suit. I can be a tiny bit anti-social, which hurts me in business sometimes. On the plus side, if a zombie apocalypse happened and I had to sit in a bunker by myself, I’d be as happy as a clam on Prozac.

She stops her pacing, visibly shivers, and begins to dance from foot to foot while rubbing her upper arms.

Is she cold?

Probably. She’s not wearing all that much, and her creamy skin is covered in gooseflesh. Also, her nipples are?—

Wait. What am I looking at? Fucking biology strikes again. I have to ignore the?—

The lights flicker, then dim further.

Ripping the headphones from my ears, I step over to the help button and stab it again. “Hello? This is Lucius Warren. Do you understand what that means?”

No reply—unless my companion’s sneer counts as one.

Grunting in frustration, I look down at her face and can’t help but notice how blue her lips are turning.

She’s definitely freezing.

“Here.” I take off my suit jacket. “Put this on.”

She stops her dancing and looks so shocked you’d think I pulled my liver out through my belly button and held it out to her, all bloody and disgusting.

“Your teeth chattering is very annoying,” I say coolly. “Do me a favor and put this on.”

The fact that it will cover those hard nipples is a bonus.

She doesn’t reach for the jacket, just blinks her pretty eyelashes at me.

Speaking of blinking, I do it too, as my eyes feel even itchier.

She still doesn’t take the fucking jacket, just stares at me like we’re in some cowboy movie standoff. Annoyed, I step around her and wrap her in it.

A huge mistake.

My fingers touch her silky-smooth bare shoulders, and a firehose of endorphins shoots into my bloodstream and circles around all of my appendages before settling right in my dick.

Damn it. On top of everything else, I’m now hard.

CHAPTER 6

JUNO

Holy saguaro.

His strong fingers only touched my skin for a fraction of a second, yet I’m on the verge of turning into a pathetic puddle of need. I blame the scent of the jacket enveloping me—clean, with a hint of almonds, plus something ineffably male.

Needless to say, I feel instantly warm, and not just because the jacket covers me to my knees. Some of this warmth is a side effect of the heat furnace that’s come to life between my legs for some reason.

He steps away from me, and my shoulders miss his touch already.

Wait. What the hell am I thinking? The cold must’ve really scrambled my brains.

Speaking of brain scramble—the way his white shirt clings to his powerful chest doesn’t help matters.

Sliding my arms into the jacket sleeves—because I might as well—I clear my throat. “Thank you, Lucius.” As soon as I overheard his name, I couldn’t believe I didn’t guess it.

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