Page 29 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

“You want to talk about it?” he asks in a low raspy voice.

I shake my head. “It’s just a reoccurring nightmare. I haven’t had it for a while,” I murmur, my lips pressed against his pectoral muscle. I can feel his heart beating, slow and steady. He smells how I imagined a man would smell, woodsy and musky. Katia always tells me about her conquests and her hookups. And I’ve pretended that I understand, that I’ve done those things with the two or three guys I’ve gone out with over the past five years, but I haven’t. I’ve kissed a guy and I’ve had a guy feel my chest over my bra, but that’s it. Either we broke up too soon or they met my dad and got scared away. All I know about sex comes from reading romance books and talking to friends. God, I’m pathetic. I feel myself tense and I try to relax but I keep thinking about what it would feel like to have Eric’s hands touching me, really touching me. I shouldn’t be thinking about that.

I start to pull away but his arms prevent me from getting far.

“Hey there, little catastrophe. What’s bothering you?” he asks as his eyes search mine. I am a catastrophe, but not in a good way. I swallow, fighting back tears. “It’s OK, Ariana. You can trust me. You can tell me anything,” he assures me as his hand comes up to brush a tear away. And I believe him.

“I…” I trail off as I try to find the words. Where do I start? Do I tell him the entire truth? What if he hates me? I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. He’s done so much for me.

“What?” he prods as he cups my face, forcing me to look at him.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” I admit. I bite my lip and he uses his thumb to pull it free.

“Not possible,” he says softly.

His thumb runs over my lip and suddenly I want him to kiss me. I start to lean up and he doesn’t move. I’m an inch away from his face, our gazes are locked and I can feel his breath on my skin.

This is it. I’m going to kiss my boss. Screw it. Just do it. That’s what Katia would say.

My eyelids start to close.

BAM!

We jump apart and Eric runs to the window. I slowly get off the bed, careful to step with my busted ankle which feels better.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Mario and Luigi got out,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll be right back.”

I look out the window and see two goats jumping around. I start after Eric but he stops at the door.

“Oh no you don’t. Get back in bed and rest. I got these two little ninjas. They are escape artists. Last time they got out, they somehow ended up down on Main Street and were headbutting that fake little pony ride outside the ice cream shop,” he explains. I immediately know what he’s talking about with the little pony that kids sit on and it rocks back and forth if you put coins in it.

I giggle. “Is this what farm life is?” I ask.

He chuckles. “I suppose it is.” He hurries down the stairs and I slink back into bed, pulling the comforter up against me. I can still smell Eric on the covers. Something about his scent is so calming. Just like he is. Even amid my fall, his voice was still calm and strong. It takes a lot to rile him. He’s the opposite of my father. He’s brilliant. I’ve seen that every day I’ve been here. But not in a calculating type of way. In an innovative type of way. And he’s kind. I’ve never seen such kindness before.

I curl up but then I can’t help peeking outside. I carefully walk to the window and giggle as I watch Luigi jump out of Eric’s arms and on top of the doghouse by the barn. Then Mario starts running in circles around him. I hear Mooman mooing. The baby lamb cries and Eric looks up to the sky for a second. Then his gaze meets mine as I peer out at him. As goats jump around in front of him, he doesn’t move, and neither do I. We watch each other for long seconds, unspoken words passing between us. Does he long to touch me too? Is this feeling I have around him mutual? No? That’s not possible…or is it?

Then, Eric mouths, “Go back to bed.”

I grin and stick out my tongue and he laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. God, he’s handsome. He’s like a prince in one of those fairy tales I used to read or the male lead character in one of those sappy love movies Katia and I watch. He’s perfect.

Luigi rams his leg and Eric grabs him, breaking our eye contact. I turn and crawl back into bed. I pull the covers up again and breathe in Eric’s scent. My eyelids grow heavy and the last thing I hear are the goats yelling outside as sleep overtakes me.

* * *

The light is so bright when I open my eyes that I shield them with a hand. Squinting, I assess myself. My ankle feels a little better, not perfect but better. I feel the back of my head.

“Ouch,” I whisper as my finger presses the small knot that’s formed. That’ll take a few days to go down. But it doesn’t hurt as bad as yesterday.

I hear a noise and look up to see Eric fast asleep in the armchair. His gentle snores make me smile. He’s still in his clothes. His boots are sitting next to the chair and his giant feet are propped on the ottoman.

I sit up and watch him for a second before realizing that Barkley is curled up next to me. He rolls to his side and I grin.

“Good morning, Barkley,” I whisper.

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