Page 37 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

For now, I'm just a guy having breakfast with a beautiful, fascinating woman.

And I’m beginning to wish, more than anything, that it could stay this simple forever.

***

After eating, we head back upstairs to our rooms. The narrow hallway seems smaller than usual, and I'm hyperaware of Skye's presence beside me as we walk.

The morning sunlight streams through the window at the end of the hall, catching the gold highlights in her curls.

We reach our doors, and Skye turns to face me, her key card jingling softly in her hand. "Thanks for breakfast," she says, her voice softer than usual. "It was... nice."

"It was," I agree, and find myself taking a step closer.

The usual sharp-tongued food truck owner who's been driving me crazy since day one looks suddenly vulnerable in the morning light, and something shifts in my chest.

She's perfect. I want her.

She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, and I notice a small dimple appear at the corner of her mouth. "You know, for a corporate suit, you're not terrible company."

I laugh softly, moving closer still. "High praise from the queen of backhanded compliments."

"I have my moments of generosity," she whispers, and I realize we're standing close enough now that I can see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.

My hand moves of its own accord, brushing a wayward curl from her cheek.

She draws in a quick breath but doesn't pull away. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before a summer storm.

"Skye," I murmur, my thumb grazing her cheekbone.

Goodness, I want her.

She reaches up, her fingers tentatively touching my lapel. "Yes?"

The guilt about my true identity threatens to surface, but I push it away.

Right now, at this moment, I'm just a man standing before a woman who's managed to turn my carefully ordered world upside down.

I lean down slowly, giving her time to step away if she wants to. But she doesn't.

Instead, she rises slightly on her toes, meeting me halfway.

When our lips meet, it's soft at first, hesitant. Then Skye sighs against my mouth, and something inside me breaks loose.

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer as her hands slide up my chest to rest against my shoulders. The warmth of her touch burns through my shirt, making me dizzy with want.

Her lips are impossibly soft, tasting of the cinnamon we ate for breakfast.

I cup her cheek with my free hand, tilting her face to deepen the kiss.

She melts against me, and I forget everything – the buyout, my family's expectations, the weight of my responsibilities.

At this moment, there's only Skye.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, and I trace my thumb along her jawline, memorizing the feel of her skin.

In a back corner of my mind, I hear the ocean breeze swirl around us, carrying the salt air and the distant sound of waves, but all I can focus on is how perfectly she fits in my arms.

Then, as suddenly as it began, Skye breaks away. Her eyes flutter open, wide with surprise – and something else. Fear? Regret? Shock? My heart pounds as I watch various emotions cross her face.

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