Page 67 of The Sexy Billionaire

It feels like an eternity as we head downtown, but eventually, we make it to Tribeca, and I see Giorgio standing out the front of his apartment waiting for me. Relief fills me, seeing him standing there with a deep scowl on his face, but it disappears as he realizes it’s my cab that is pulling up in front of him.

He opens the cab door and leans in. “How much?” he asks. The driver tells him, and he gives him the cash before shutting the door again. He then opens my door and holds out a hand for me. I graciously take it, and the next thing I know, he is pulling me into his arms and mumbling things to me in Italian. That he was praying that I would make it to him in time. I stare up at him and in that moment, the entire sidewalk disappears, and all I see is this man looking down at me with the deepest worry across his face, as he continues to mutter about my safety and all the things he wants to do to my ex. The next thing I know, I’m grabbing his face and kissing him.

I’m blaming it on the adrenaline.

He stills in my arms before he quickly removes my lips from his.

Oh.

Shit.

What the hell was I thinking?

“Get inside,” he growls as he takes my hand and ushers me past the doorman and down the corridor toward the elevator. He slams his hand against the metal buttons with such force it makes me jump; the elevator door opens, and we get in. He’s angry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I’ve ruined things. He’s done this to help me, and I’ve been a complete and utter creeper and launched myself at him.He was just being kind, Paige.He lets go of my hand in the elevator and runs his hand through hishair, cursing in Italian as he puts distance between us. I’ve really messed up, he’s not happy.

The doors open directly into his apartment—I hadn’t noticed he pressed the penthouse—and he strides ahead of me, still cursing.

“Gio, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was panicked and the adrenaline ... I shouldn’t have kissed you.” My apologies stop him, and then he strides toward me, my feet moving me backward quickly until my back hits the wall.

“You think I’m upset that you kissed me?” he growls at me angrily.

I nod quickly in reply.

“Fuck, Paige,” he says, nearly pulling his hair from its roots. “Do you have any idea how long I have waited to have your lips on mine again?”

Wait, what?

I shake my head no, unable to speak.

“The reason I pulled away wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you,” he says, reaching out and caressing my face.

It wasn’t?

“I panicked because I didn’t want someone to photograph us together. Those assholes could be anywhere.”

Oh.

So, it was because he was worried about the paparazzi.

Shit.

No one knows he’s single.

“Do you have any idea what they would do to you if someone caught that? They would crucify you,” he explains, his face softening. “Giada is Italy’s sweetheart. They think she can do no wrong. You would forever be known in Italy as the other woman.”

Okay. That seems logical.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Never apologize for putting your lips on mine.” He grins as his thumb wipes an errant tear from my cheek.

“You saved me and I …” My breath hitches as I try to explain the panic that Michael had filled me with.

“You’re safe now,” he says, reassuring me.

“I always felt safe with you,” I confess, looking up into those dark cocoa pools. Silence falls between us as tension swirls around. My breath is shaky with need as I lick my lips, those dark pools following the path of my tongue. Then he’s leaning closer to me. He’s going to kiss me. This is it, what I’ve been dreaming about these past couple of nights.

The sound of the elevator doors opening breaks the moment, followed by a female voice calling, “Hey, Gio, you home?”

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