Page 62 of The Reluctant Billionaire

LOTTA

Aidan Duffy is grinning at me.

Full-wattage, underwear-melting grinning.

Let me tell you, it’s spectacular.

We’re in the kitchen at the community centre. We’re alone, but the door is open and the volume of Sylvie and Judy’s conversation tells me they’re just on the other side of it.

That isn’t deterring Aide, who’s making a beeline for me as I await my perfectly executed Nespresso. He comes to stand on the other side of the counter, which is probably a good thing, because if it wasn’t for this three-foot-wide barrier of stainless steel, I’d probably be wrapped around him already.

Having fucked me good and proper yesterday in his huge corner office like the power player he is, this morning he’s catering to my blue-collar fantasies in boots, cargo pants and one ofthosevests.It’s pristine, but I don’t give it long before that changes.

‘Morning,’ he says in a low voice.

‘Why, good morning,’ I singsong cheerily.

‘You still staying at mine tonight?’ he asks my chest.

‘My boobs are still planning to spend the night with you, yes, and I was going to come along too if that’s okay?’ In truth, I’ve thought of little else except being with Aide in his home, in hisbed, since he suggested it yesterday.

He has the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘Sorry.’

‘No you’re not.’

‘Nope. I’m not. You got your overnight stuff?’

‘Yeah. It’s in the hallway,’ I say, jerking my head.

He raises his dark, shapely eyebrows. ‘I didn’t notice a full-size Louis Vuitton trunk out there.’

‘Hilarious, aren’t you? You want to get laid or not?’

He glances at the doorway, then skulks around the island towards me.

Uh-oh.

‘Yes, smart-arse,’ he says, pushing my hair behind my shoulder so he can press the most delicious kiss to my neck. He drags his mouth up to my ear. He smells freshly showered and fucking amazing. ‘I want to get laid,’ he whispers. ‘Byyou.’

‘Mmm,’ I say, leaning into him. ‘Goody.’ He is so, so gorgeous. I raise a hand and trail it over his shoulder and down his arm, marvelling at how such soft skin can coexist with such hard muscle.

He straightens back up, his hand going to squeeze, to caress, the dip of my waist. He seems to love that part of my body. I take advantage of the small distance between us to touch one ofmyfavourite parts ofhisbody—that chest hair. I hook a couple of fingers into the scooped neckline of his vest and brush my knuckles over the downy coating.

‘Such a neanderthal,’ I coo. ‘Got any power tools for me today?’

‘I’ll have one tonight,’ he jokes. He pauses, then adds, ‘Can’t wait to have you in my bed.’

I shoot him a smile that telegraphs how similarly I feel. ‘How will we get back to yours?’

‘My driver, Andy, will pick us up.’

I snigger. ‘You’ve got so many personas I’m getting whiplash. I was indulging in some verbal foreplay with my bad boy builder, and then you throw bad boy billionaire into the mix. It could confuse a girl with a lesser intellect than mine.’

He smiles, then leans back in to kiss me on the cheek. His beard tickles my skin gently. ‘It’s all the same guy, sweetheart. Remember? It’s all real.’

It’s all real.

Jesus, Aide. What are you doing to me?

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