Page 9 of Billionaire's Surprise

“Of course.” He nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

I returned to my seat, and Emerson turned to me.

“What did Marco need?” she asked.

“He was informing me the sleeping arrangements were—are—being taken care of.”

She gave me an odd look, but I just shook my head, indicating we’d talk about it later. No need to bring the captain into our strange arrangement.

Dinner was superb, the multiple courses a feast to all the senses, and the three of us managed to keep the conversation light and fun. Jacob regaled us with stories of sailing around the world on the city-sized ship where he reigned, Emerson shared hershock at winning a trip from her company, and I did my best not to stare at her. But it was difficult to tear my gaze away while I marveled at my good fortune.

She was really here. And by the end of the week, I knew without a doubt, she’d really and truly be mine. Forever.

After dinner, Jacob excused himself, kissing Emerson on the cheek and shaking my hand before heading off. I offered Em drinks, but she declined. Her visible exhaustion was taking its toll on her, so I led her back to our room.

She toed off her shoes then scooped them up and went to deposit them in the bedroom closet. When she returned, the heels were still in her hand and her eyebrow was cocked.

“There’s still one bed,” she said.

“Right,” I agreed. “Well, that’s what Marco came to tell me. They can’t separate them, after all.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “You promised—”

“I know,” I defended, holding up a hand. “And I’m sticking to it. I’ll sleep on the sofa.” I closed the space between us, removed the shoes from her grasp, dropping them to the floor, then took her hands in mine. “Emerson, I’m not here to push, persuade or force anything on you. I’d sleep on the floor if it were necessary to protect your feelings and your honor. This was an honest mistake and a mechanical snafu. Please, believe me.”

She blinked, studying my face with narrowed eyes. Whatever she saw seemed to ease her mind.

“Okay,” she conceded. “I believe you.”

“Thank you.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek, wanting to do so much more, but now definitely wasn’t the time. “You look positively done in. Allow me a moment in the bedroom, then I’ll let you get to sleep.”

She nodded, and I excused myself to get ready for bed. I was glad I’d packed sleep pants, since I usually slept in boxers. But I knew the more covered I was, the more she might believe I wasn’t after her body on this trip…well, notonlyher body.

When I returned to the living room, she was still standing there, her gaze locked on the couch and her arms crossed over her middle, so deep in thought I didn’t think she heard me approach.

“Are you okay?” I asked, stopping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist, unable to resist touching her. She shifted her hands to slid over my forearms.

“I feel bad making you sleep on that tiny sofa,” she said. I felt her take a fortifying breath, and she tapped my arm. “We’re adults. I think we can handle sharing the bed.”

I turned her around, so I could peer into her eyes. She looked as if she really believed that.

“Emerson, I pride myself on being a gentleman. However, I don’t know if I have the willpower to sleep next to you and keep my hands to myself. It’s difficult enough not to devour your beautiful mouth right now. I don’t want to put us in a situation that could lead to something you’re not ready for.”

Her gaze darkened as I spoke of kissing her, her pupils blowing wide as she sank her teeth into bottom lip I wanted to taste again. I had to step back to avoid her feeling my body’s reaction.I half-hoped, half-dreaded she’d push the issue, that she’d ask me to the bed again, because I was two seconds from being completely undone.

When her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, I actually groaned aloud. And her soft smile told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I’m sure we can handle this, Fray.”

It was practically an invitation to release my tight control, but I wasn’t so sure she meant it to be. This woman… She’d definitely be the death of me.

Five

Emerson

I was a masochist. And maybe, a sadist, too, because I was getting off on Fray’s reaction to me. Yet, I knew there was no way we could pursue this tension between us. Not tonight anyway.

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