Page 58 of The Billionaire's Secret
She peers up at me from under her eyelashes, "Did you sing—"
“While my Guitar Gently Weepsby The Beatles?" I crack my neck. "Seems that way."
"Why?" She asks.
"It worked, didn't it?" I scowl, "Couldn’t stand by and watch you have a bloody meltdown."
She huffs, "I meant, why The Beatles?"
"Why not The Beatles?"
"You hate The Beatles."
"I hate tears even more, besides, when a naked woman—"
"—Almost-naked," she protests.
I chuckle, "Almost nakedwoman throws herself at me… I had to catch you. I couldn’t have you hurting yourself."
Her gaze flickers.
I fit my knuckles under her chin, so she has no choice but to glance at me.
"Only I am allowed to do that, Gigi."
She swallows.
"No one else can hurt you, except me," I lower my chin, "you feel me?"
Her pupils dilate. Her chest heaves, then she nods. "I understand… Sir."
My dick hardens at that.Shit, what am I doing, cuddling her? I fucking hummed a song for her? Bloody-fucking-hell!
I lean forward and she presses a hand into her chest, "It’s okay, Saint, I won’t tell."
I frown.
"I won’t tell the Seven or anyone else. It’s our secret."
"What the fuck you talking about?"
She darts me a look from under those sooty eyelashes, "That you secretly have a thing for The Beatles."
"I don’t have a 'thing' for those knobheads."
"Yet you knew the words to their song."
"Who doesn’t?"
She stares at me.
"What?" I scowl.
"Not everyone knows the correct words to that particular song."
Shit, is it getting hot in here?
"Admit it." She sits up in my lap.
