Page 4 of The Billionaire's Secret
"Repeat what you said," he rasps.
"No."
He lowers his voice to a hush, "Do it." All other noises fade away. My mind focuses on him. I take in the creases that fan out from the edges of his eyes, the furrows on his forehead, the tendons that pop at his throat.
"A puzzle," I whisper. "The answer is a puzzle."
"Why did you ask me that question?"
"I wanted to take you by surprise." I firm my lips. "That's all."
"You expect me to believe that?" He searches my features. "That you'd ask me a riddle for the hell of it?"
"Why? Does it scare you?"
The wind blows, and a tuft of his hair falls over his forehead. I raise my hand toward it. He grabs my wrist, wrenches tit behind my back, then lowers his head until his nose bumps mine. "Be afraid, Victoria. Be very afraid."
"Of you?"
"Of this game you are playing." He releases me and I slump back on my heels. My chest heaves. My heart pounds so hard I am sure it's going to tear out of my rib cage.
"Or what?" I purse my lips.
"Or get ready to get hurt." He straightens the cuff of his shirt. "For I never lose, and when you do—" He straightens, fixes me with that penetrating gaze, "No one can save you."
1
Saint
"And what if I don't?" Her low voice slices through my guts. "What if I don’t want to be saved?" she whispers. Her lips tremble and her chin wobbles. Her beautiful green eyes grow impossibly large in her face. An act, all an act. She's married, for fuck's sake.
"Is that how you trapped your husband?"
She pales. Her breath catches.
A sharp pain stabs at my chest. Shit, now I am upset because I hurt her feelings. Bloody fuck, do I have my balls or what?
She turns to leave, my rib cage tightens. My lungs burn. I swoop down, grab her wrist, and pinpricks of heat crawl up my arm from the touch.What the fuck?
She shivers, did she feel that too? Nah. Surely, it's a figment of my imagination.
I tug at her; she angles her body half toward me, half away, her handbag a red slash of color against the brown of her dress. "People are watching." she hisses.
"The fuck I care?"
She glances at me, "What if I do?"
"Do you?" So I'm attracted to her. Shit happens. She's another man's wife, the kind of complication I've preferred to steer clear of. What is it about her that insists I stay, tug at her wrist until she turns to face me?
She shakes her head. One side of her beautiful mouth twists. "But I'm afraid my husband does."
"And you care about his feelings?" I glower.
"I care about mine." She tips up her chin. Her eyes blaze with an inner fire. "If I were looking for an affair, it wouldn't be with the likes of you."
"Oh?" I peruse her features, "And are you looking for one?"
"What?"
