Page 80 of Beautiful Enemy

Each wave grips me in turn.

I’m so consumed with sensation I don’t notice the computer slide off my lap.

“Motherfucker!” I jerk upright at the sickening sound of it hitting the deck. Horror slices through the bliss as I tumble off the lounger onto my knees to retrieve it before looking at him with accusing eyes. “This better not be broken.” At least it’s backed up.

Harrison’s voice is languid. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You can’t fix my problems with money, King.”

“Watch me, Queen.”

The expression on his handsome face makes my heart skip. Lust, satisfaction, and an emotion more than both. He’s cocky, but beneath the surface is a genuine will to please me, a simple gratitude for this moment.

“That was... unexpected.”

His slow grin is wicked in the dark. “Really? Because I’ve been picturing nothing else for weeks.”

Harrison takes the computer from me and sets it gently on the end of the lounger. “Time for your real gift.”

I turn to stare at him. “You’re shitting me.”

He rises and disappears belowdecks, returning a minute later with a box a little smaller than my computer, wrapped in velvet and a gold ribbon.

“Open it.”

He draws me between his thighs again and tucks the blanket in around us as I tug at the ribbon until it gives way. The velvet wrapping is a bag, and I unfold it and slide out the box inside.

He waits patiently while I open it.

In the low lighting, the black Sennheiser logo is just visible against the impossibly shiny silver of the headphones, but it’s the sparkling letters across the earpieces that grab my attention.

“I called the CEO and had him make them for you,” Harrison says under his breath.

“Little Queen,” I murmur, tracing the word on each side with a fingertip. Each letter is spelled out in a dozen tiny gems. “In crystals?”

“No.”

Harrison’s abs clench under me, and I lift my gaze to his, disbelieving.

“Tell me you didn’t get me diamond headphones.”

His eyes aren’t cold tonight. They’re warm like the sea, teeming with life and possibility.

“You’re the real thing. Don’t fucking forget it.”

My chest aches.

I’m on a yacht celebrating with friends who flew halfway around the world to be with me, and it’s all thanks to a billionaire I should hate. Except he’s not the man he lets the public believe he is, and he just gave me the most incredible headphones and the most incredible orgasm.

But it’s his words that affect me more than anything we’ve done.

“Did you make a wish on your birthday candle?” he prompts when I’m silent.

I hook the headphones around my neck because I can’t stand to put them down. “I haven’t believed in that since I was a kid.”

He pulls my back to his front, and I relax into him, lifting my chin to stare at the stars overhead.

“Then it’s time to start again,” he decides, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

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