Page 38 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
Theo paused on the first step, his eyes devouring her with a silent hunger that caused an unfamiliar heat to pool between her legs and spread outward.
For a beat, neither of them moved.
A slow, devastating smile curved across his lips. His eyes darkened, roving over her with a hunger that made her pulse skitter.
“You…” he said, his voice rough. “You’re—stunning.”
Color rushed to her cheeks, but she managed a smile. “I, uh, raided the costume storage. I wasn’t sure jeans and a sweatshirt would be considered date-worthy attire.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved up the steps, each stride a promise.
He took her hand in his. “Whatever you wear is perfect. Wearing nothing would be even better,” he murmured—and then, without waiting, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t polite. It was a claim.
His lips captured hers with a hunger that stole her breath, one hand braced at her lower back, the other tangling in her dark, shoulder-length curls. Her lips parted when he deepened the kiss.
She clutched at his jacket, dizzy with sensation. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. Hell, there had been nothing gentle about any of their kisses. Even the one he had brushed across her lips had felt wild and untamed.
That was fine with her. She didn’t want gentle. She wanted this. Him.
When he finally pulled back, his warm breath caressed her lips. His eyes held hers, unreadable and intense.
“Now I’m ready,” he said, his voice low, nearly reverent.
He led her down the steps and into the car like she was royalty, his hand never leaving hers. She glanced at him as he gave the driver an address she didn’t recognize.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable but soft at the edges.
“Trust me?” he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
He hadn’t planned this—at least, not the way it was unfolding. He hadn’t planned the impulsive kiss on the steps or the rush of desire that nearly undid him in full view of the street.
Rose was breathtaking in the shimmering blue cocktail dress that clung to her like it had been made for her alone. His pulse was still racing, his mind at war with his body—one demanding restraint, the other wanting nothing more than to claim her now.
Her kiss that morning had set his world on fire and left it smoldering all day. He’d gone through meetings, calls with his father and brother, and couldn’t recall a word of them. All he could think about was the way she had looked at him… the way she had kissed him like he was everything to her.
Now, sitting beside her in the back of the SUV, his hand resting lightly over hers, he could feel that storm rising again. He hadn’t let go of her since she’d slid into the seat. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to pull her onto his lap and taste her again.
Instead, he’d given the driver an address where there would be no cameras and no interruptions.
His penthouse.
She turned to him, her brow knitting slightly. “Where are we going?”
Some of the earlier sparkle in her voice was gone, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.
He noticed the faint tremor in her fingers. His chest tightened. A wave of protectiveness washed over him.
“Somewhere we can talk,” he said gently. “Without being overheard. Or distracted.”
Her eyes lifted to his. She didn’t pull away when he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.
He breathed a relieved sigh when the SUV pulled into the underground parking garage. He exited, holding his hand out to help Rose. They entered the garage-level elevator.
He released her hand and flashed his watch across the keypad interface.
