Page 35 of The Billionaire's Temporary Governess (French Conquests 2)

“I’m sure she does,” he said, firmly taking the tablet out of Willa’s hands, despite her protests, “but there’ll be more than enough time between now and then to find new recipes. In the meantime, it’s bed for you.”

She accepted her fate, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his shirt. “You smell of cigars.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I like it.” Tilting her head up, she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for a kiss on the nose.

He planted one there and got up. “If you turn that tablet on again tonight, I’ll know,” he warned her.

“How? How will you know?”

He gave her an evil, arch-villain grin. “The shadow always knows.”

She threw the covers up over her head and slid deeper into the bed. “Ugh. Creepy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,ma choupette.”

Then it was off to the echoing emptiness of his own room. He didn’t even bother turning on the lights, undressing methodically in the dark and tossing his shirt and pants aside onto the back of the chair. A quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and then he climbed into his firm California King, wondering how long it would take him to fall asleep.

He turned to his side, willing his internal unrest to settle down—and encountered something, no, someone, in bed with him. He shot into a sitting position, confused and fully alert, ready to challenge the intruder.

A gasp. “William!”

He clicked on a bedside lamp. “Naisha? What are you—is something wrong?”

By the glow of the lamp he could see little more than an outline, her hair a thick, crazy cloud, her eyes bright. She looked even more taken aback than he felt. She clapped her hands to her mouth. “Ohmigod, I fell asleep!” She made to hop out of his bed, but he stayed her with one hand.

“Why are you here?”

She looked suddenly shy, which worried him, because Naisha was never shy. “I came to see you. I waited, but it got late and I–”

“Fell asleep like Goldilocks,” he said indulgently. He reached out and tugged gently on one of her locks which, far from being spun gold, was more like twisting forest vines. His voice softened. “Why were you waiting?”

“Where were you?” she countered, as if unwilling to answer. “And who were you with?”

He was taken aback by the question, but recovered quickly. “That’s not your concern, Naisha.” Then, to soften the harshness of his response, he said lightly, “Why did you come here tonight?”

He could discern an almighty struggle on her face as she debated whether to say something or bolt. He was relieved when she seemed to make up her mind. In the warmth of the lamp, her face took on a flush that made his entire body go hot. “I—uh—what we talked about last time. You and me, I mean.” She paused as if it was killing her to go any further. Her eyes pleaded for him to let her off the hook by catching on fast.

But with delicious mischief, he feigned ignorance. “Not sure I know what you mean.”

To his surprise, a lot of her characteristic spunk came rushing back, and she smacked him on the arm. “You know exactly what I mean, Liam. And want you to know I’ve reconsidered. I think it would be okay if you and I slept together—”

“I’m sure it would be more than justokay,”he cut in, as if “okay” was the worst insult a woman could pay to a man.

“I’m serious!” she protested.

To squelch her ire, he pressed a soft little kiss against the corner of her mouth. “My apologies, mon trésor.”

He began to let his fingers stroll down from her cheek to her throat, and then lower, to the valley between her breasts. He noticed with delight that she had chosen to leave that horrendous terrycloth bathrobe in her room—hopefully shoved into the darkest corner of her closet. Instead, she was wearing a short cotton tee emblazoned with the logo of a popular rock band. Not exactly a skimpy negligee, but he’d take it.

“Just so you know,” she interrupted shyly. “About contraception. I picked up some condoms in town and I’ll see about getting us something longer term, okay?”

He touched her cheek. “Smart girl.” He let his index finger circle one nipple and almost whooped in triumph as it hardened to attention under his touch.

“I have one condition,” Naisha said, in a voice that was beginning to tighten, letting him know he was getting to her.

“What condition is that, mon trésor?” he murmured as he pressed kisses against the side of her neck.

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