Page 32 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

I hear her starting to eat.

“Did you eat?” she asks. I turn and she’s holding up a piece of toast.

“It’s for you. I’m fine,” I assure her but she keeps the bread held up for me.

“Just a bite. If you are hell-bent on taking care of me today, then you should take care of yourself too,” she says. I swallow because there’s no way that’s a double entendre. No, she definitely did not mean it like that.

I slowly walk over to her and she pushes the toast higher up to accommodate my height. I don’t know what overcomes me but I lean down and take a bite, licking my lips as I pull away. She sucks in a breath and her cheeks flush as she brings the toast to her lips. I watch her take a bite. She chews slowly, matching my pace as we both watch each other. My eyes focus on her lips as her tongue darts out and licks a crumb from the lower one. Fuck, I want to do that. I want to lick crumbs from all of her skin. My eyes inadvertently glance down at her breasts, as if they have a mind of their own and hope to find crumbs there.

I turn quickly, breaking our stare because it’s too intense. “Would you like me to bring you anything else?” I ask.

“No. I think I’m going to snerdle today,” she says and I can hear the grin on her face as she says it.

Looking back at her, I confirm the grin. “What’ssnerdle?” I ask.

She giggles and pats the bed. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

My eyebrows shoot up and she laughs some more. “I’m not going to bite. I promise.”

I give her a pointed look but I comply for reasons I do not want to explore right now. I crawl onto the bed, careful to keep a good foot or two between us.

She pulls up the blanket and motions for me to get under the covers. I give her a warning look. What is she playing at?

“Do you want to know or not?” she says with a huff.

“Fine,” I grumble as I slide my legs under the blanket. She fluffs it up around my waist and smiles.

“There. Now, read this to me,” she demands as she shoves the offending book in my direction.

I hold up my hands. “No way. I know what’s in that book. Nope.”

She frowns, pushing out her lower lip in an exaggerated way that is adorable but I still don’t want to give in. “Please!” she begs.

“Little catastrophe, I don’t know what you are playing at, but no,” I repeat.

She sighs. “Fine, I’ll read it out loud, but it would help if you did it. My head still hurts a bit,” she protests.

“It does?” I ask, suddenly concerned.

“It’s OK. Just a little. Nothing serious and much better than yesterday. My ankle is almost back to normal, so I must not have twisted it very badly,” she says quickly.

I grab the book from her. “Just for a few minutes,” I groan.

She grins. “Really? You will?”

God, I hate that she can manipulate me like this, but my protective instincts are on high alert and I don’t want to make her head hurt worse. “Yes,” I grumble as I open it to the page she has marked by dog-ear.

I look over the book at her. “You bent the page,” I mutter.

She shrugs. “How doyoukeep track?” she asks.

I reach into the nightstand drawer and fish around until I find a piece of paper that looks like a shopping list my sister must have left here on her last visit. I place it in the book and shut the pages. “See, easy,” I reply. “I’m not a book page-bending monster,” I add.

“OMG! You are so extra!” she says.

I chuckle. “OK, pot,” I tease.

“Whatever, kettle, now read,” she urges before sticking out her tongue at me.

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