Page 164 of The Billionaire's Secret
My lips twitch, "And I wasn't even trying." I come to a halt so close that she has to tilt her head right back to keep her gaze locked with mine. A single strand escapes from the hairdo and floats across her cheek.
"You’ve made your choice, hmm?" I raise a hand.
She flinches.
I twine the hair around my finger, then tuck it back behind her ear.
She swallows, "It seems that way, doesn’t it?" Her voice is firm, "You do you, Saint."
She bites down on her lower lip and my gaze drops there.
"Oh, I plan to do you first, darling wife." I swoop out my arm, wind it around her waist, and haul her to me with such force, she crashes into me—from breasts to waist to hips, she’s plastered to me.
Her gaze widens and fear trembles off of her.
"Don’t disappoint me now, my love. This is what you wanted—an open spectacle in front of the world, with every eye on us. A signal to those you work for that you’ve accomplished what you set out to do."
Her throat moves; she wets her lips and lowers her gaze to my mouth. "Yes…" she whispers. "It’s what I need. I want you to hate me, Saint. Everything I’ve done is so you abhor me—so you forget me when I leave."
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere you won’t be able to find me," her smile twists. A single tear rolls down her cheek.
"Save the fucking histrionics," I snarl. "I love you, doesn’t mean I am going to let you get away with this."
She stares, then chuckles, and a giggle spills from her. She begins to laugh.
"The fuck is wrong with you?"
She glances past me, pales.
"What is it?" I frown.
"Kiss me."
"What?"
She throws her arms around my neck, raises her chin, presses her lips to mine.
"Don’t—"
She bites on my lips, digs her fingertips into my hair and drags them across my scalp. My groin hardens and my vision tunnels. A groan tears out of me. Fucking fuck, I can’t refuse her, I can’t resist her. Fuck her for rendering me so helpless.
I drag her up to tiptoe, deepen the kiss.
She sucks on my tongue, kisses me back with a fervor that borders on desperation. The hair on my nape rises. My heart twists in my chest.
This entire sequence of events, starting with her walking into that office and asking me for help… Was any of it real? A hollow sensation roils in my stomach. A bead of sweat slides down my back. I tear my mouth from hers. "The fuck is happening?"
She swallows, peers into my eyes.
"Tell me, Gigi, I can help you." I scan her anguished features.
"I can’t let you," she whispers.
"No," my pulse begins to race, "don’t do this."
She cups my cheek. "Promise me, you’ll put this behind you, and move on."
