Page 21 of The Billionaire's Bargain

She raises her head, eyes heavy-lidded and dazed.

"I want to watch you," I tell her, increasing the pressure of my touch. "I want to see your face when you come for me."

Her eyes widen.

I work her slowly, remembering what makes her breath catch and her thighs tremble. When I slide a finger inside her, she bites her lip to hold back a moan. So tight. So perfect. So mine.

"Don't hold back," I urge her, adding a second finger while my thumb continues its relentless circles. "Let me hear you."

Her body tightens around my fingers. She's close already, her inexperience making her hypersensitive to my touch. I curl my fingers, finding the spot that makes her gasp.

"That's it," I encourage, watching pleasure transform her features. "Let go for me, Alice."

She comes with a broken cry, her body clenching around my fingers as waves of pleasure wash through her. I work her through it, prolonging her release until she collapses against me, trembling and spent.

I withdraw my hand slowly, bringing my fingers to my lips for a taste that makes me groan with wanting. She watches with wide eyes, her chest still heaving.

"When we land," I tell her, my voice thick with promise, "that was just the beginning."

She swallows hard, but there's no fear in her expression. Only wonder and a dawning hunger that matches my own.

"Thank you," she whispers, the formality so sweetly incongruous with what just happened that I can't help but laugh.

"Believe me, Alice," I say, brushing my lips across hers, "the pleasure was mine."

And as the plane carries us toward my island—toward privacy and possibilities and the inevitable conclusion of this dance we've been performing—I know with absolute certainty that she is no longer just an obsession.

She is a necessity. One I have no intention of ever letting go.

nine

. . .

Alice

I standat the edge of Alexander's infinity pool, watching the line where water meets sky blur into an endless blue. His estate clings to the cliffside like it was carved from the rock itself, all glass and steel and obscene wealth. The ocean breeze lifts my hair, sending goosebumps racing across my skin. Three days ago, I was serving coffee in a dingy downtown café. Now I'm here, with him, and I can't quite remember how to breathe normally anymore.

"Cold?" Alexander's voice slides over me from behind, deep and smooth like aged whiskey.

I don't turn around. I'm afraid my face will betray too much. "A little."

His footsteps are nearly silent on the travertine tile. Then his warmth is at my back, not touching but close enough that I feel the heat radiating from his body. Alexander Grant exists in his own gravitational field, and I'm just debris being pulled into orbit.

"I can have someone bring you a sweater." His breath stirs the hair at my nape.

"No, I like it." The tiny discomfort grounds me, reminds me this isn't a dream. "It's beautiful here."

"Yes." But he's not looking at the view when I glance up.

The intensity in his dark eyes makes my stomach drop like I've missed a step on a staircase. Three days of being whisked from my ordinary life into his extraordinary one, and I still haven't built up an immunity to the way he looks at me—like I'm a puzzle he's determined to solve, a treasure he's unearthed.

"Come inside. I'll show you the rest of the house."

It's not really a request. Alexander doesn't make requests. He issues invitations that feel like gentle commands. Yet there's something different about him here. His shoulders appear less rigid beneath his simple white linen shirt. The perpetual crease between his brows has smoothed.

I follow him into what could only be described as a cathedral to luxury. Soaring ceilings. Walls of glass facing the Pacific. Art that probably costs more than every place I've ever lived combined. But it's not cold or sterile like I expected. There are books with cracked spines on shelves, a throw blanket rumpled on a couch, a half-empty coffee mug on a side table.

"You actually live here," I say, surprised. "I mean, it's not just for show."

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