Page 14 of The Billionaire's Secret
Fuck.This...is unacceptable.
"Or not." I straighten.
The limo pulls up to the curb in front of her hotel.
She reaches for the door.
"There's one thing more."
She pauses.
"You won't come," I command.
"What?" She turns around to stare at me. "The hell do you mean?"
I lean back, place my arm across the back of the seat. "Your every orgasm belongs to me."
"No."
"Yes," I nod, waggle a finger in the air. "No cheating, darling. You will not come until I give you permission."
"Fuck you."
She pushes open the door, flounces off. The limo pulls away, turns the corner, then stops.
I push open my door, step around, and slide into the driver's seat.
"You better know what you're doing," Weston growls from the passenger seat.
I glance over him, laugh, "The uniform suits you."
"I didn't have to wear the hat." He tosses it down between the seats.
"Aww, women love men in uniform," I snicker.
"You're envious of how I look in scrubs," he retorts.
I shoot him a sideways glance. "Still can't understand why you chose to become a doctor."
"Same reason you wear those beat up cowboy boots."
"Sentimental value." I raise my shoulders.
"Keep telling yourself that," he mutters. "Besides, considering the amount of time I'm spending to help you with your affair, I may not be a doctor for much longer."
"Not an affair," I mutter, easing the car back in traffic.
"Yeah." He scratches his jaw, "Seriously, you could have allowed the woman a little time to recover from the funeral."
"It's all a bloody act." I spot a break in traffic, step on the gas, and the limo pulls forward.
"The private investigator come through with information?"
"Some." I frown. "Enough to confirm that she's not as innocent as she'd want me to believe."
"And her marriage?"
I draw in a breath, then pull out my pack of cigarettes. I depress the button for the lighter, then toss the pack over to Weston, "Light one for me, will you?"
