Page 103 of The Heiress's First Date

“Probably not. Gabe’s going to keep me updated, as will my team.”

“So we don’t need to rush.”

“No. I just thought you’d be anxious to get back.” And I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy, even if it’s sending her back into the arms of her best friend.

She tips her chin up and looks up at me like I hung the moon, a half smile curving her lips. Damn, she’s pretty in the warm Paris glow. “I am. I just don’t want our time here to end, either. Not yet.”

38

KATHERINE

Alex’s dark eyes meet mine, and a smile hovers on his lips. He’s not a smiler, my Alex. But my admission pleased him.

I’m torn. I want to see King. Hug him. Make sure, with my own eyes, that he’s okay.

But if Gabe got them a safe space to stay, away from prying eyes... My heart squeezes. I want to know the full story. I want to hug them both.

Aside from that, what am I going to do? If they’ve evacuated our building, I’d just be in the way.

“Let’s just enjoy our last few hours in Paris, and we can fly home early.” I press against his cheek. “Just not in the middle of the night. Let them sleep.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice dark and rough as his scruff. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

I know him well enough by now to decipher that sentence. He’s not planning to come back to bed.

“What about you?”

“I have some calls to make.”

I lean away from the circle of his arms and slide my hands to his shoulders. “In the middle of the night?”

I quirk an eyebrow, and his lips twitch.Gotcha.

“It’s not even bedtime on the East Coast.”

“Will it keep?” I ask, closing the distance between us.

He tips his chin up, those gorgeous eyes heating. “Perhaps.”

Holding on to him for balance, I straddle his thighs, the robe tangling around my lower body. A big hand slides along the exposed skin of my thigh, then jerks the fabric, freeing me.

“I could get some beauty sleep?—”

“You don’t need it,” he cuts in, adorably cheesy.

His sweet words set fire to my veins. Who would have thought Alexander Hunt would have such a soft spot and say such lovey-dovey things? I adore this side of him. The softer, quieter side that he shows so rarely.

“Or—” I trail my fingertips down his naked chest.

“I like where this is going.”

“Do you?” I tease? Then I lean back, acting like I’m getting up. “Icouldgo back to bed.”

He snags a hand around the back of my neck and jerks me down into a kiss. Warm, firm lips move beneath mine, an erotic dance that has me shifting in his lap. I need to be closer. I need less fabric between us.

He’s right. This isn’t solely about sex. But when I walked out here and saw him gloriously naked, bathed in the glittering light of the city, I immediately wanted to create a few memories.

Sinking my fingers into his hair, I sweep my tongue along the seam of his lips. He groans, and his hands tighten on my thighs. I’ll never get enough of him or those masterful hands. Nor his kisses or his heat. Definitely not the way he’s always thinking about what I need and how he can make me happy.

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