Page 29 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

“Leave it,” he commands when I start to wash. He takes my hand in his like he did last night, and my stomach leaps. He leads me out of the suite, and I stare at his profile as we get into the elevator.

“Where are you taking me? We have an event on the schedule for ten am, that’s in an hour,” I remind him.

He shrugs and announces, “We’re blowing that off today.” I gape at him in shock.

“What do you mean? This wedding week is the only reason we’re even in Half Moon Bay in the first place, remember? The reason we’re pretending to date…”

The elevator slides open, and he leads me outside; but instead of walking to the garage where his car is, he takes a left turn to the back of the lodge. “The dinner last night and the actual wedding are the most important events we have to attend. The rest are optional.”

I stare at the back of his head as he leads me down the path. “Wait. So, I didn’t have to go to the Day Spa?” Before I can lay into him for yet another deception, the path opens up, and we’re standing in front of a helipad, where a sleek, dark helicopter with five rotor blades is sitting pretty. Someone is sitting up front – most likely the pilot – fiddling with some controls.

“Lucien,” I breathe, stunned, but also excited at the prospect of flying above the beach. “What is this?”

His golden eyes twinkle as he watches my reaction. “Consider it a bribe for the awful end to your spa day. I shouldn’t have let you go to the stupid spa in the first place, but I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“What?” I ask, in a daze, my eyes glued to the helicopter. “I already forgave you before you even made me breakfast. This is too much. But I love it.” Oh, my God!

“Consider it a bonus. Come on.” He leads me forward, and I go all too willingly. The interior is even prettier than the exterior. It must be a private chopper because it’s so luxurious. There are two rows of white, plush high-back seats facing each other. Where the arm rest should be is a mini wet bar. A bottle of champagne is already chilling on ice, and beside it two flutes are firmly tucked into cup holders carved into the bar top.

Lucien picks up a headset and gently tucks my hair behind my ears. My heart is racing furiously, and I bite my lip nervously when his gaze snags mine. His eyes drop to my lips, darkening just the slightest. He clears his throat and gently secures the headset, adjusting the mic. The helicopter comes to life, the blades flapping slowly at first, then quickly picking up speed. It’s incredibly loud, causing me to wince.

He helps me into the helicopter; and as I melt into the leather seat, he closes the door with a soft thud. Immediately, the loud noise from the blades and engines is muffled. It’s still loud, but significantly less so compared to outside. He puts on his headset while I buckle up. “Ready?” he asks, and I nod rapidly.

As the helicopter leaves the ground, Lucien pops the champagne and carefully fills both flutes. He clinks his glass with mine; after the first sip, he points out the window beside me. I glance down, and my jaw drops as I check out Half Moon Bay from the sky. The crescent-shaped water twinkles as the waves travel to the shore and back again. The lodge and the quaint little town look so charming from up here.

The helicopter hovers over Half Moon Bay for a few moments, then tilts slightly and we’re off. Lucien points out the landmarks I wouldn’t otherwise recognize, like he’s my own personal tour guide.

There’s the Golden Gate Bridge, a mile wide and three mile long suspension bridge, connecting San Francisco and the Pacific Ocean. The bridge serves as a link between San Francisco and Marin County.

“Why is it called the Golden Gate Bridge when it’s red?” I wonder out loud.

“At night, the bridge is floodlit and shines with a golden luminescence that reflects off the water. However, the name is in analogy to the Golden Horn of the Bosporus. Captain John Fremont gave it that name in 1846 while envisioning rich cargo flowing in from the Orient through the strait.”

I blink at him. “Golden Horn of what now?”

He chuckles. “The Golden Horn is a major urban waterway and the primary inlet of the Bosporus in Istanbul, Turkey,” he explains. The helicopter moves on into the distance.

We circle Alcatraz Island twice because I just can't get enough. The small ship-shaped Island was once a maximum security federal penitentiary and military prison. It was shut down because it was incurring too much expense and is now a tourist site and museum.

The helicopter moves on to Downtown San Francisco. Lucien points out Union Square, and the twin peaks. Two 922 feet mountains sitting close to each other. We fly over Coit Tower, a slender, white 210-foot Tower rising from the top of Telegraph Hill. Then we go over San Francisco Bay and finally Oakland. Lucien points out the Coliseum before we circle back to Half Moon Bay.

The helicopter lands on the helipad in Half Moon Bay Lodge. Lucien helps me take off the headset before removing his own. He opens the door and jumps down. Isn’t he going to extend the steps for me? He raises his hands to me, answering my quiet question. I swallow hard, then place my hands on his shoulders and let him lift me down.

The entire front of my body presses into his, and his eyes flash as our gaze meets. Before I can second guess myself, I drop a quick kiss to his cheek with a murmured, thank you. His eyes go liquid. My heart is beating over time now, and I squirm in his arms until he drops his grip. As soon as I’m free, I run inside.

22

Ever flown over the city of San Francisco and its surrounding towns, Rachel? This girl did! ??

Rapid footsteps follow behind me, and my heart leaps as I increase my pace. Just as I get to the elevator and press the call button, his wide palm lands on my lower back, and he spins me around to face him. “You want to give me a kiss to thank me? Make it a proper one.” He growls, then bends his head to meet mine. The elevator slides open, and he crowds me into the small space. He crashes his lips to mine, the tip of his tongue caressing my bottom lip.

Anticipation zings through my veins like lava, and I part my lips, inviting him in deeper. He tastes me, his tongue stroking and dominating mine until I’m unsteady, my wobbly knees prepared to give way beneath me. The doors of the elevator ping open, and his hands drop to my ass. His grip tightens before he lifts me up effortlessly. My hands cling to his defined shoulders, my legs naturally circling his waist as he walks out of the elevator. I squeeze my legs and tilt my hips into his torso, grinding myself against him deliciously, earning a deep growl of approval.

I pepper kisses down his neck as he walks us down the hallway to our room. He hikes me up in his arms when he gets to the door, holding me one handed as he places our key card against the door. Fuck, that blatant display of strength is sooo hot. I open my mouth against his neck and suck gently before trailing my tongue up the entire length of his throat to his jawline. The salty and musky taste of him explodes on my tongue, and I moan.

Lucien curses viciously as we walk into the suite and straight to the bedroom. He tosses me on the bed and I bounce softly. “Take your clothes off,” he commands sharply as he reaches behind his head to pull his shirt up and off.

I inhale sharply at the exposed tanned, muscular skin. He turns around and bends to take off his shoes, his muscles rippling. I bite my lip at the intense wave of lust that assaults me. He stands up and turns to face me. He raises his brow when he sees I’m just sitting there, staring hungrily. The corner of his lips quirk up, and my cheeks warm. I move my hand to the zipper of my dress, and draw it down. I shimmy out of it, wriggling this way and that on the bed. My heart pounds furiously as he watches with that hooded gaze.

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