Page 34 of Billionaire's Accidental Marriage
Silence fell between us for a little bit before he asked the next question. “If there were one thing you could change about yourself, what would it be, and why?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’d change this incessant need I have to always have things perfectly outlined before I do something. It’s so annoying, and it’s one of the reasons why half of my ideas and my goals in life never come to fruition. I’m too busy working out the kinks to actually go through with anything. You?”
He didn’t hesitate, either. “My love of travel.”
I blinked. “Wait. What?”
He snickered before taking a sip of his wine. “I know it sounds so stupid, but I’d change that. I have this insatiable need to see all of the wonders of the world. To learn about cultures and languages and foods. And the issue with that is that sometimes, people find that very overwhelming. Women, more specifically. Most people enjoy traveling one or two times a year, but I’d do it every month. Hell, for a while there, I did it every other weekend. I’d jet off to a new location and experience it for a couple of nights before flying back in and getting back to work. I want so much to share those experiences with someone, but so many people find that type of traveling schedule grueling. It holds me back in a lot of ventures I have in terms of friendships or relationships. I’d change it if I could.”
I took his hand in mine. “Or maybe, you simply haven’t come across the right girl yet. That doesn’t mean she isn’t out there, though.”
His eyes met mine. “Or, maybe I’ve already come across her.”
I enjoyed our conversation. I enjoyed how it flowed and how effortless it always was to open up and talk with Mike. He was so different from any other company that I kept, and yet there was a yearning behind his words that stopped my heart in my chest.
But, my silence must have lingered too long because Mike quickly cleared his throat. “So, do we want to make our own dessert? Or, do we want to order something up from the kitchen again?”
I giggled. “Isn’t it my turn for a question?”
He winked at me before he sat up. “What could we bake here, if we did bake something?”
I shrugged. “Well, I’m not much of a baker. Cooking is more of my specialty, so we should probably leave this particular food moment to room service.”
He chuckled. “Food moment? Really?”
I smiled. “It sounded better in my head.”
He pushed himself up from the comfortable, plush couch cushions. “Let me go get some desserts ordered. I’ll be back in a second.”
I threw the covers off me. “Actually, let me come with you. I’m a bit weird with dessert textures, so it’ll help to see the menu. You know, so I’ll know which ones are okay and which desserts won’t be okay.”
“Suit yourself, beautiful.”
We made our way into his bedroom and placed an order with the kitchen for five different desserts, and the entire time I kept thinking about that nickname, “beautiful.” It had become an increasingly common nickname for him to use with me, and I wondered what it meant. My head spun with all sorts of different accusations as he dropped the phone back down into the receiver. But, it wasn’t until both of us were perched on the edge of his bed that it hit me.
“You don’t mind the fact that we’re married, do you?” I asked softly.
Mike slid his massive hand over both of mine, which were clutched in my lap. “The chef said everything would be up in about an hour or so.”
I nodded slowly. “That didn’t answer my question, Mike.”
I drew in a deep breath to settle my nerves, but all that deep breath did was draw in the scent of his cologne. It overwhelmed me, turning me to face him as I drew in yet another silent lungful of his wonderful scent. He scooted a bit closer to me, which caused me to scoot closer to him. By the time we were done scooting, his arm had wrapped itself around my waist. Our thighs pressed together tightly, mimicking our bodies during our fits of passion.
“Michael?” I asked breathlessly.
He crooked his finger beneath my chin and tilted my gaze up to his. “Yes, Mags?”
I swallowed hard. “Are you going to answer my question?”
His eyes danced between my own. “Not yet. I don’t think it’s the right time.”
“I don’t—”
I drew in a broken breath before I found the strength to speak again as his breath pulsed against my lips. “I don’t know what’s happening to us,” I whispered.
He licked his lips, his eyes falling to my own. “Neither do I, but I have to admit I don’t hate it.” His stare came back to mine before his finger fell from beneath my chin. “Do you hate it?” he asked.
I shook my head quickly. “No, I don’t. That’s—that’s the thing. I don’t hate this, but I feel like I should. If that makes sense?”
