Untamed Billionaires: Marriage: For Business or Pleasure? / Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue / One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Элли Блейк
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the distraction that would have entailed. The way he saw it, they could keep this marriage business focused while having fun too but there was no way, no how, he’d be pushing the issue now.
Britt had made her feelings more than clear.
‘Nick?’
Her sleepy whisper slammed into his consciousness, beckoning him to stay right where he was. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation no matter how turned on he was or how badly he wanted his wife.
‘Shh, go back to sleep.’
He stroked her hair, a small part of him melting as she snuggled deeper and, rather than pull away, he cuddled her closer with his arm.
Her hair tickled his shoulder, her cheek, so soft and warm, pressed against his chest and the faintest scent of lavender and vanilla lulled him into believing that, for now, this was enough.
If Nick was a bad boy, Brittany was a bad girl.
A very bad girl.
When she’d woken in Nick’s arms that first morning, she’d felt him pulling away, sensed him trying to disengage. And while winding up with her head resting on his chest and the rest of her draped over him hadn’t been planned, she’d taken full advantage of the situation.
Maybe not full advantage, as that would’ve entailed doing a lot more than cuddling, but she’d pretended to sleep while savouring the hard chest cushioning her cheek, the warm, toned body beneath her hands and his intensely male scent, which set off her pheromones in a big way and always had.
She could’ve stopped there but, no, she’d been a really, really bad girl.
And proceeded to do the same thing every morning.
For the next two weeks.
The tension was killing her. If only it were doing the same to her husband.
‘How’s business coming along?’
Her head snapped up from where she’d been resting her chin in her hands, staring out of the window and daydreaming of exactly how bad she’d like to be, to find the object of her wicked fantasies staring at her with cool detachment.
It had to be a ruse. After all, wasn’t he the one who’d been hot to trot on their wedding night? Surely he couldn’t have turned off just like that?
By his compressed lips and grim expression, apparently so.
Feigning nonchalance she didn’t feel, she waved her hand towards the stack of paperwork on the table in front of her.
‘The photographer’s been out to the plantation every day this week and taken loads of shots. The cameraman’s due out there tomorrow, and I’m collating some of the historical info I got from your grandfather’s ledgers. So everything’s coming along nicely.’
He crossed the room, perched on the edge of the table, her eyes now level with his crotch, and she quickly stood, not needing to look there considering she’d been having bad thoughts a few moments ago.
‘You’ve been busy.’
‘Loads to do. I’ve got a task list a mile long today, including heading out to the plantation to scout more locations, checking the ones I’ve already chosen, making sure they match the information I’m in the process of adding to the pitch—’
‘Hang on.’
His hand shot out, gripping hers and preventing her from putting some much-needed distance between them.
Trying not to show how much his simple touch affected her, she raised an eyebrow.
‘What’s up?’
Shaking his head, he squeezed her hand before releasing it. ‘I’m no good at this.’
‘At what?’
‘This whole fake marriage thing.’
‘Oh, thaaat.’
Well, well, well, maybe the tension was getting to him after all.
‘Not used to sharing a suite, huh?’
He must’ve heard her teasing tone but rather than smile, he fixed her with a piercing stare.
‘Not used to sharing a suite with you.’
Right then she knew, no matter how cool Nick was playing it, how busy he was, he was just as rattled by their underlying attraction as she was.
‘Oh? I thought it’d be a breeze.’
She waltzed around the room, picking up floral skirts and summer dresses and the odd piece of lingerie or two.
Okay, so she wasn’t playing fair with the lingerie but, hey, she wanted to get a reaction out of him, and if the tortured look that flickered across his face as she twirled an ebony satin bra on the end of her finger before tossing it into a drawer was any indication, her plan was working.
‘A breeze? More like a damn tropical cyclone,’ he muttered, shoving off the table and heading for the wide window affording a glorious view of Noosa beach.
‘I’m getting to you, aren’t I?’
She snuck up behind him, just stopping short of sliding her arms around his waist and laying her head against his back.
He didn’t turn, keeping his gaze fixed on the stunning view.
‘I guess this business arrangement of ours isn’t quite what I expected.’
‘That’s because we share a past, you dufus.’
Oops. Had she really said that out loud?
By the speed at which he turned to face her, she had.
An endearing smile curled his lips. ‘Dufus?’
‘I’ve called you worse.’
His eyes darkened as they hovered on her mouth, as if he was remembering everything she’d ever called him and more.
‘Yeah, I remember.’
She’d come this far, might as well go for broke.
‘What else do you remember?’
Silence stretched between them, surprising her. Nick might be many things, but chicken wasn’t one of them. She’d called his bluff, expecting some kind of answer even if it was a dismissive smart-ass remark.
Just when she’d given up, he finally reached out and twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.
‘I remember you wore your hair long, to your waist. I remember how you used to squeal on the back of my bike as I rounded the bends.’
He tugged on her hair, bringing her closer…and closer…and closer until there was a whisper between them.
‘But most of all, I remember how you made me feel back then.’
Unexpected emotion clogged her throat, effectively clouding her sweep-me-into-your-arms fantasy.
She’d wanted to prove the sizzle existed between them, wanted to tease him, wanted to get a reaction out of him. The last thing she’d expected was this serious trip down memory lane from a guy who acted as if they didn’t have a past most of the time.
‘How did I make you feel?’
He was so close his breath feathered her lips, sending a ripple of longing so intense through her it took her breath away.
‘Like I could make all our dreams come true.’
She sighed, wishing he hadn’t pushed her away, wishing he’d said yes when she’d asked him to move away with her all those years ago, wishing he had made her dreams come true.
He was all she’d ever wanted, until her freedom became all important.
She’d thought she’d had it all,