Page 161 of The Elusive Billionaire
“Please, please let the rest of our arguments for the rest of our lives go like this one.” His lips meet mine. It’s gentle and sweet.
Nothing like the blisteringly desperate kisses we normally share.
But no less consuming.
“I’ve missed you this morning,” he says quietly, but I can see questions lingering behind his eyes.
“It looks like you’ve been busy,” I say. Behind him, the boys chuckle.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, and there’s the question he really wants to ask.
“Grey, we talked about this.”
He holds up both his hands in surrender. “I’m just asking, sweetheart. I didn’t finish my sandwich, so I saved it for you in case you were busy this morning too.”
“No, I’m good.” And I am. I really am this time.
I can see the fight in him, still wanting to push, still wanting to ensure my safety, but he nods and lets it go.
“Good, I’m glad.” He smiles, and it fills me with love.
He wants to fight for me, but he’s trusting me to do it myself.
It’s progress.
“I think I figured out how to win this thing,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and leading me toward the stage.
“Oh yeah, how’s that?” I ask, leaning my head against him, soaking in the comfort he gives.
He pulls me in closer to his side. I’m not even angry about the sweat. We’re in the middle of an active threat, and I’m…content.
“The bigger fool I make of myself, the more people cheer for me.” His dimples are both on display.
“That’s your strategy?” My laughter rises right along with his.
“I need an edge, and since I don’t seem to be picking up line dancing very well, I’m going to play to my strengths.”
“Your strengths. In line dancing.”
He takes my hand and tugs me to the stage stairs.
“Hell no. If I never line dance again after tonight, I’ll be happy. But I know how to work a crowd.”
Carson catches my eye.
“Oh, I remember why I was mad.”
Grey leads me up the steps with humor shining in his eyes. “What is it now, sweetheart?”
“Did you approve about a hundred more guards than the three we discussed?”
The curtain is still lowered on the stage, so it’s a little dark back here, but he leads me effortlessly to the chair that’s built to look like a throne.
“Well, a hundred seems a little excessive,” he says dryly. “You agreed to follow Harrington’s plan.”
Carson slides into the shadows off to my right.
“Roman said there would be three, Grey. Three.”
