Page 114 of Billionaire Romance

8

Sinclair

I come back from a long walk along the beach—while Ankor (I can never get used to calling him Marco, and he insists it’s better if we stick to Ankor for anonymity’s sake anyway) was teaching an afternoon session of swimming classes to some of the new older resort visitors, who just moved in this week—to find a box on my bed, a bow around it, and a note tied to it.

I suppress a smile as I read the note. This looked almost as beautiful as you in the shop. I couldn’t resist. Why don’t you try it on and meet me in the lobby at 7?

Knowing Ankor, this means another one of his surprise dates. We’ve gone on more than our fair share over the past two weeks—long past the day I promised myself I’d check out of the hotel. I’d be worried about my budget, except that when I went to the front desk to try to settle my bill, the clerk told me my stay had already been paid in full and extended for another month.

I was annoyed at Ankor for a day. Until he pointed out that he was only really paying himself anyway, since this was his resort chain.

“Besides,” he’d whispered, in between kissing his way down my neck as we curled up in the enormous king bed of his suite. “Any excuse to keep you here longer, I’m going to take.”

I’d laughed. But the words had sent a thrill through my veins at the same time. Because I felt the same way about him. I kept waiting for a red flag, kept expecting the other shoe to drop. But it never did. Every day with Ankor felt better than the last. And the more time I spent with him, the more I realized I’d never be able to get enough.

It should make me nervous. And it does, sometimes, late at night when I lie in his bed or mine, wide away and listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. I worry about how long this can possibly last. About what will happen when it all comes crashing down around me.

But more often than not, I forget. About the past, about my fears. I’m just here, in paradise, with him. And that’s all I need, for now.

Still smiling, I tug on the ribbon, open the box and peel back layers of paper to find a dress buried inside. The sight makes me gasp. I’ve never owned anything this beautiful. I can tell just from one glance that it’s from the kinds of stores I always window-shopped at with glee but could never even afford to set foot inside.

Carefully, I lift it and hold it up before the mirror. It’s silk, pillow-soft to the touch. It’s got a complicated series of straps over the shoulders, flowing down to a loose-fitted waist and a flared skirt. The whole thing is a deep emerald green, which I already know will look amazing against my red hair.

I smile. Ankor has a good eye. Good taste.

Good a lot of things, really. A little shiver traces down my spine as I remember how we spent last night. He has a balcony in his room, looking out over the sea. Late at night, after we returned from a night swim in the pool, he carried me out there. I held onto the railing as he peeled off my swimsuit, promising me that nobody else in the hotel would be out this late, it was just us out here.

Still, it felt so forbidden to be naked like that, somewhere so public, the warm night air caressing my bare skin at the same time that Ankor did. He ran his hands all over me, held me against him as he stroked his fingers down, down, between my legs and along my slit until he had to reach his other hand up to muffle my moans as he made me come. Over, and over…

Still shivering with pleasure, I hug the dress to my chest for a second, and then go about changing. It’s already six, which means I only have an hour to make myself presentable. And to judge by the style of this outfit, Ankor has something fancier in mind than our usual dates.

So far, we’ve mostly confined ourselves to exploring distant parts of the island. Going on hikes into beautiful remote jungle areas, climbing up mountain peaks to take in the sight of the whole island. Or going back to our now-favorite beach, which more often than not is empty enough that we can recreate our first hookup there.

It’s starting to feel like a real relationship. We have our spots, our traditions, our firsts. Our favorites.

I shower, the smile never leaving my face, and put on my makeup and the dress just in time to meet Ankor in the lobby right on schedule. As usual, the second he sees me, his eyes light up and it’s all he can do to keep his hands from wandering too far as he wraps his arms around me and kisses me.

“Gorgeous as ever,” he whispers against my lips.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” I reply, tugging on the lapel of the suit he’s wearing. I’ve never seen him this dressed up. I have to admit, the suit is doing wonders for him. And making me wonder if we might better spend our evening heading back upstairs for a while…

But he’s already leading me out the door, his hand wrapped tight around mine. On our way past, we both wave to Mrs. Jenkins, who’s sitting outside reading a book.

“Have fun, kids,” she says, with a twinkle in her eye that tells us both she knows exactly how close we’ve been getting over the past few weeks. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she adds. “Which leaves you plenty of options, believe me.”

We laugh as Ankor opens the passenger door of his car and I climb in. “She’s a riot,” I say as he takes the wheel.

“My favorite,” he replies, and there’s a humorous glint in his eyes as he waves to her in the rearview mirror.

I don’t recognize the road we take. It’s a different direction than we normally go, toward town rather than away from it. Then again, I’m pretty distracted by the feeling of Ankor’s hand on my knee, warm and reassuring all at once.

“So, any hints about tonight’s destination?” I reach down to take his hand.

His fingers interlace through mine. “That would ruin the surprise. Let’s just say, it’s a special occasion.”

“Oh, really?” I cast a sideways glance at him, amused.

“It’s about time I took you out properly,” he replies.

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