Page 90 of Must Have Been Love

He pushes his body against me, as though to prove his point. I can feel how hard he is. It sends a shot of desire through my body.

“Then take me,” I whisper.

“I will. When you’re in my bed.”

“It’s not your bed, it’s the hotel’s.”

“I paid for it. It’s mine.” He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. His body is so tense I swear I feel every muscle tighten against me. Like he’s restraining himself.

And I don’t want him to be restrained. I want him to come undone.

“Are we talking about the bed or me?” I whisper.

“Definitely the bed. I don’t think I could ever pay for you. I don’t have that much money.”

“How much do you think I’m worth?” I flutter my eyelashes at him, because this man has game.

“More than any man can afford.” His lips almost brush mine. They’re so tantalizingly close. Then the elevator door opens and he takes my hand, dragging me into the private lobby that leads to the living room with the stupidly perfect view over Manhattan.

But he doesn’t stop to appreciate it, too intent on the door that leads to the master bedroom with it’s oversized bed that I’ve been eyeing all afternoon. We’ve barely made it inside before he’s scooping me up like he can’t wait any longer, and is carrying me to the bed.

And then I freeze.

I know he feels it. Because he stops walking and freezes too.

I start to tremble. “Sky?” he murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“The bed.”

He blinks. “Okay. Tell me what about the bed?” He frowns. “Did somebody hurt you? In a bed?”

Oh god. “No.” I shake my head. “I think I just got it all built up in my mind. That if I sleep with you in a bed…” I trail off. I can’t tell him, I can’t.

“What will happen? You’ll turn into a frog?”

My lips curl.Don’t make me laugh. He already has the trifecta of perfection. He’s gorgeous, he’s grumpy, and he gave me his boxers.

I can’t deal with him being any more perfect right now.

“I can’t fall in love with you,” I whisper, and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I feel like I’m careening to the ground, even though he’s still holding me tight in his arms. Slowly, he puts me down, his brows knitted as he cups my face.

“Would that be so bad?” he asks me.

“Yes.”

He tips his head to the side. “Because you think I’m an ass?”

“No. Quite the opposite. You’re too much,” I confess. “You’re rich and you’re confident. You walk into a room and everybody turns to look at you. Your family adores you, your daughter thinks you’re some kind of God, and I’m starting to feel the same.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I speak. His lips are parted, like he’s trying to follow along.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I think you have me confused with somebody else,” he says. He cups my face in his warm hands. “And you are so, so fucking wrong.”

“What about?” I whisper.

“I’m the one batting outside my league,” he tells me. “You’re irresistible. From the moment I saw you I wanted you. Then you opened your mouth and pretty much told me to fuck off and I wanted you even more.

“Everybody loves you. My sister, my daughter. Your brother. The whole damn town. You stepped off that ferry and lit everybody’s world up.” He lowers his brow until it touches mine. “You’re worried about falling in love with me? Well I’ve already fallen in love with you. I fell a long fucking time ago and I think it broke every bone in my body.”

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