Page 35 of Broken Rules
She turned away from the magnificent view. “It’s beautiful, Damien, but this is a private beach.”
“I don’t believe in private beaches.” His voice was velvety smooth.
Her gaze darted nervously up at the nearby multi-million dollar homes. “Your personal ideologies aside, it’s still private. They could see us and call the police.”
“Don’t worry. I checked it out. Those houses are empty.”
“How do you know that?”
“They’re owned by prominent families from New York. To them, these are rustic cottages they visit the last week of August. For the rest of the year, they’re forgotten, along with this beautiful strip of shoreline.”
“Yeah, but we’re still trespassing.”
“True, but only because they’re too greedy to open it up to residents. Consider this an exercise in civil disobedience.”
“Are you Gandhi now?”
“No, I’m just some guy who wanted to surprise his girl with a romantic walk on the beach. There’s no finer strip of coast in New Hampshire. Anyway, just because someone has money, it doesn’t give them permission to be an asshole.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I have money. I’m not an asshole.”
“You’re a thief!”
He smiled. “All right, so I’m a partial asshole.”
“Are you rich?”
“Filthy.”
“Gross or truly disgusting.”
“Truly disgusting.”
“Can I see where you live?”
“No,” he answered without skipping a beat. “I don’t live anywhere, at least not permanently.”
Her shoulders tensed. “Where are you staying then?”
“Here and there,” he answered.
Bad boy alert!
Why wouldn’t he tell her which hotel he was staying at? Probably because he had a penthouse suite with a harem of gorgeous models at his disposal.
“Why are you frowning?” he asked.
“Why are you being so secretive?”
His lips curved in a slight smile. He squeezed her hand. “Remember what I told you. No one knows where I live.”
“No one?” she asked skeptically.
He nodded.
She raised her brow at him. “Not even your string of other women?”
He took her hand and pulled her close. “There are no other women, Savannah.” He slowly lowered his head, gently pressing his lips to hers. The whisper-soft caress made her breath catch. Then he deepened his kiss, his tongue claiming hers with languid, rhythmic strokes that sparked a sweet ache deep within her. Her heart started to pound, and then a new sensation intruded upon her burgeoning desire. Something was vibrating against her leg. He pulled away and reached into his pocket.
“Is that a pager?”
