Page 40 of Heart of Stone (Dark Billionaires)

As though the smell of the food alone had infused some life in her, she gave a quick retort. “Depends on how much food you’ve brought me.”

They ate in comfortable silence, quickly emptying the little aluminium trays.

It was only when they finished that Warren opened the second bag he’d fetched up. He pulled out a sleek, A3-sized box decorated in a black-and-white colour scheme. Opalescent stickers flashed as it moved, drawing her attention.

“This is for you,” he said delicately.

Her brow creased when she recognised the brand; the same as that of Warren’s laptop. “Is this…?”

He nodded, carefully watching her. “I thought you might want one of your own.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, putting the laptop box on the table and throwing her arms around his neck. Her last gift had been a singular box of chocolates from her father on Christmas Day. A box of chocolates she knew for a fact he’d picked up from the petrol station at the last minute. To suddenly have new clothes, new suitcases, and a new laptop thrown at her was overwhelming.

Warren’s hands came up to lock her against him. “Anything for my kitten,” he whispered into her hair, sending a shiver through her.

She pulled back, just enough to look in his eyes. Only to discover that his attention had drifted south and had settled firmly on her lips. Immediately self-conscious, she darted her tongue out, pulling her lip underneath her front teeth.

The groan he gave was unexpected, as was the hand he slid along her jawline. “You drive me to madness.”

Kate didn’t know where her response came from, but it left her anyway. “Then go mad with me.”

Warren seized her lips with his own, brushing once, twice, thrice, before she opened for him. His stubble was sharp against her skin, but the softness of his lips more than made up for it in silky, drugging apologies.

His delicious warmth drew her in closer, and before long her hands were exploring of their own accord, tracing the biceps of the arm he’d secured around her waist, exploring the contours of his neck, even sinking into the darkest depths of his hair. Kate treasured every inch she uncovered, and wondered how many more she would find.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were panting with exertion and desire.

The heavy-lidded eyes over his smirk suggested that Warren was more aroused than exhausted. “If I’d have known that was what it was going to take for you to kiss me, I would have bought you a laptop weeks ago.”

Blushing, she couldn’t help biting back. “If I awake tomorrow to find a new Range Rover parked on the drive for me, should I worry about your intentions?”

He kissed her again. “You should always worry about my intentions.”

Recalling the events of earlier, Kate decided to ask him a serious question. “Can I ask what your intentions are regarding Brax and I?”

“What about the two of you?”

“I mean, we just left without telling you,” she shrugged. “I know the rest of Brax’s team were furious. Especially the one with resting bitch face.” Her and Brax had effectively been glared out of the house.

“Resting bitch face?”

“Yeah, his face looks like a slapped arse.”

“His name is Creer.” Heat infused Warren’s narrowed eyes. “And how would you know what a slapped arse looks like?”

She chose not to answer that. “I simply meant that me being the prisoner and all, I thought you’d be angry.”

“You’re not a prisoner, kitten.” Warren blinked down at her, an odd look in his eyes. “But no, I’m not angry. Well, I was a bit miffed you left, admittedly, but it’s not as if you ran away. You left with my Head of Security and three security guards—in addition to the two that are constantly there guarding your father anyway. You were safe.” Warren twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “And I’m told Brax broke your father’s nose. Again.” He shrugged. “That cheered me upimmensely.”

Kate’s smile was a weak one. “Me too.”

“Don’t give him another thought, kitten. He’s not worthy of you. He never was.”

A message popped up in the lower right-hand corner of Warren’s laptop. She squinted at the photo attached. A familiar young man holding a familiar Jack Russell.

“Is that Mattie?”

Warren turned, a dark lock flopping over his forehead as he yanked the workstation towards him. “He wants to know if I’ve given you your laptop yet.” Another message came in whilst he was reading.

---