Page 19 of The Billionaire's Accidental Legacy

She let out a breath and took hold of the papers, looking them over.

“Can you really give your title to me?”

“I’ve no idea. But you can claim it.”

“And what is the purpose of this?”

“Revenge. Quite simply. My father is on his deathbed. This paperwork, by the way, ensures that it all passes to you upon his death. An agreement between yourself and me. We will have final papers sent to you once he draws his last breath. But I will ensure that he is aware that the line is ending with me, before he slips into hell. That’s all I ask.”

“That seems fair to me.” She didn’t need to question why the man hated his father. People were entitled to hate their fathers. God knew she hated her own.

She looked over the paperwork quickly, and signed.

The air between them became thick.

“I’m leaving gambling behind me,” she said, stepping away from him, arousal making her warm.

This had been the most exciting night of her life. And he was an unexpected and thrilling opponent.

They had both won a victory tonight. And why should they not bask in it?

“Are you?”

She shrugged. “You have to stop eventually.”

“Do you? I don’t intend to stop until I drive my Ferrari into a brick wall. And then maybe I’ll slow down.”

“When you’re dead?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“That doesn’t seem a recipe for a happy life.”

“I don’t want a happy life. I wanteverything. When I want it. All the time. I want excess. However long that lasts, I don’t care. But a man like me isn’t exactly made to sit in a rocking chair in his twilight years. A man like me isn’t made for twilight years.”

“That seems grim.”

“Perhaps I’m grim. Maybe that’s my secret. But in between the moments of grimness, I’m told I can be a good time.”

“Show me.” Her pulse was pounding.

“Why don’t you show me?”

With his whiskey firmly in hand, he turned away from her, went and sat on a large armchair in front of windows that overlooked the back courtyard.

“I am told,” he said, “these windows overlook the valley below. And we are on a cliff’s edge. So no one can see. That’s what I’m told. I suppose we can’t be certain.”

He took a sip of whiskey, those eyes burning into her. “Show me the prize I failed to win.”

He was asking her to strip.

She didn’t know how to strip. She had played the coquette, she had played the seductress, but none of the games that she and her sister played ever demanded that they follow through.

Tonight wasn’t a game. Tonight was a claiming. She was cashing out. Why not cash out her virginity as well?

She reached behind her back, and before she could allow nerves to overtake her, she began to unzip the dress. She let it go loose, let it fall to her waist, her breasts bared for his perusal.

“Gorgeous,” he said, his jaw going tense.

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