Page 7 of Billionaire's Surprise

“Fine,ourroom,” she huffed. She slid dangling silver earrings into her ears then looked back at me. “Did you need something? Are you okay?”

Her eyes narrowed in concern as she stared at me.

“You’re gorgeous,” I said, unable to come up with any other words.

I stalked quickly across the room and pulled her into my arms. Her gaze widened, but she didn’t pull away.

“May I kiss you?” My voice was a rasp, as she’d stolen my voice, too. The fact I resisted claiming her mouth like a caveman showed I had more restraint than I felt. I wanted nothing more than to throw her onto the mattress, rip that dress off her body and never let her go. But in this situation, I needed to be more careful than with the trickiest billion-dollar negotiation I’d ever handled. She had to know I respected and valued her, that I loved her, not just that I desired her.

“On the forehead like a good brother,” she said, a weird twang in her voice.

“What?” I stared down at her in confusion. The words sounded familiar, but I had no idea what she was talking about.

“I’m sorry. You startled me, and you look so much like Clark Gable. That quote’s fromGone with the Wind. I’m a movie geek, one of the reasons I’d planned to haunt the ship’s theaters—while I avoided water.” She shook her head then stared toward the floor.

I lifted her chin with my finger, hiding my inner wince at the reminder of my gaff. When her gaze locked on mine, I searched for hesitation, and when I found none, I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips to hers.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I whispered against her mouth before pulling away. “And I better get ready for dinner before I forget myself.”

She nodded and stepped away. I mourned the loss of her in my arms already, but it was the truth. If I didn’t change, we’d be late—or we’d never make it to the dining room, at all.

I snagged a suit from the closet and headed into the bathroom, glad Marco had gotten most of my things put away before Emerson had arrived.

After dressing, I stepped back into the bedroom and pulled open one of the top dresser drawers. As requested, there were multiple jewelry boxes stowed away there. Pulling out the wide, flat necklace box, I took it with me to find Emerson in the front room.

She sat on the sofa, her legs tucked under her, while she stared out the wall of windows. Her gaze looked calm, but her tension was hard to miss. The ocean view agitated her.

“Em?” I asked softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Are you ready to head down?” she asked, uncurling herself and getting to her feet.

“Almost,” I said. “I thought you might like to wear this tonight.”

I opened the box, and her sharp intake of breath was exactly what I’d hoped for. When I’d seen the necklace at Harry Winston in New York, the chocolate diamond pendant had reminded me of Em’s eyes. It was the first of many purchases I’d made over the past three months as I found things that had made me think of her.

“Is that a chocolate diamond?” she asked, running a finger over the stone.

“Yes,” I said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s lovely,” she said, her tone almost grudging. “But you know chocolate diamonds are just imperfect stones marked up as special to unsuspecting customers.” Her eyes opened wide, and her lips clamped shut for a moment. Her delicate hand covered her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude.”

I laughed so hard my head actually rocked back.

“You’re completely right, love. But usually, beauty is foundbecauseof imperfection, not despite it.” Still chuckling, I freed the necklace from its box then clasped it behind Em’s neck. “Besides, I didn’t purchase it to be passed onto our children for future wealth. I bought it simply because it reminds me of your eyes, and that made me smile. There are times that spending money is a chore, and there are times that spending money is the best thing in the world because it’s for someone you care about. Don’t ever apologize for your intelligence or your savvy.”

I lifted her hand and placed a kiss to the center of her soft palm, inhaling the delicate floral fragrance she must have dabbed on her inner wrist. “Let’s go to dinner. We’re at the captain’s table, and I’m afraid people will notice if we’re late.”

* * * *

“Mr. Cassel, Ms. Blake.” The maître d’ smiled warmly when we entered the dining room. “My name is Devon, and I’ll be your dining host throughout your travel with us. The captain sends his apologies, but he’s running late tonight. He requests that you start without him, and he will join you when he can.”

“No worries,” I assured Devon.

We followed him to the table, and I noticed it was only set for four. Usually, the captain dined at a larger table, so multiple VIP guests could be appeased at once. Maybe, he didn’t plan to join us at all.

An ice bucket was stationed near the seat I was directed to, and Devon popped the cork of the champagne before returning the bottle to the ice and heading back to his station.

“I thought cruises served food on buffets,” Emerson whispered, as she looked over the night’s menu. “Isn’t that what everyone always says? They gain a ton of weight on cruises?”

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