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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deserved the universe and then some.
Wrenching his mouth from hers with effort, he exhaled on a long, ragged breath as he broke the full-length body contact he’d been relishing so much.
‘Nick?’
‘Not now, not here, not like this,’ he said through gritted teeth, desperate to rein in his libido as he tried not to focus on her swollen mouth, on the lips he’d tasted, lips he’d savoured, lips he’d kiss all night long if he had his way.
‘Then when?’
Confusion clouded her eyes as he balled his hands to stop from hauling her back into his arms, silently cursed making a hash of this.
Desire pounded through his veins, untamed and undisciplined and uncontrollable, but he’d subdue his ferocious need for now, bide his time, for when they gave into this tempestuous passion he would stop at nothing less than making love to her all night long.
With great restraint he settled for trailing a fingertip down her cheek, along her jaw, enjoying the instant flare of heat in her sparkling eyes, the soft little smile playing about her lips.
He cupped her chin, his gaze not leaving hers. ‘Soon, Red. Very soon.’
Something fierce, something wild and something altogether terrifying flashed across her face before she nodded, slowly.
‘Good,’ she breathed on a sigh, setting his heart pumping with wild anticipation as he grabbed her hand and almost dragged her out of the door before he changed his mind.
Brittany hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
Sure, she attended swank parties in London and rubbed shoulders with the rich and famous thanks to her brilliant job, but those events were filled with pretentious flakes who spoke to you depending on which designer dressed you or how many millions you made a year.
She hated the way money talked, hated the way it divided people into classes and, while she understood Nick’s drive to gain acceptance into the privileged world she’d been born into for the sake of his business, she couldn’t help but wish he’d wanted to marry her for her all those years ago.
They’d both changed so much, yet when he touched her, when he kissed her, the last decade vanished on a wistful sigh.
They’d been too young back then; she could see it now. She’d romanticised what they had, had mistaken the throes of first love as being something to build a lifetime commitment on.
But Nick hadn’t been ready and, while his deliberate sabotaging of their relationship at the end had hurt, she understood.
His father had meant everything to him while she hadn’t been able to wait to escape hers. They’d had different dreams at the time, different goals.
So where did that leave them now?
Could two successful, career-driven people take a chance on love?
She collapsed onto a portable chair in a corner of the harvesting shed, her gaze homing in on Nick surrounded by a bunch of investors while images of the scintillating kiss they’d shared in the kitchen a few hours earlier replayed over and over, making her shiver anew.
That had been some kiss. Passionate, mind-blowing and way too intense, the type of kiss to pin hopes on, the type of kiss to give a girl ideas of how he felt. And on the heels of his admission on their wedding night, when he’d said he cared about her, way too baffling.
She’d been trying to tempt him, trying to seduce him, but he’d had nerves of steel.
Until tonight.
That kiss in the kitchen had changed everything.
He wanted her as much as she wanted him, so why had he stopped? Pulled away?
Damn, the man was infuriating and confusing the heck out of her.
Every time he touched her, she lost it. But that didn’t mean she had to lose her head completely.
Having fun and walking away was one thing.
Having fun and falling for him another.
No. This time, she’d be smarter than that. She’d come too far from the scared, confused teenager who’d bolted like a fugitive into the night to regress.
She didn’t need anyone. She’d been doing fine on her own for the last ten years, thank you very much, and getting involved emotionally with Nick would only lead to heartache for them both.
‘Hey, what’s with the look?’ Frida Rutger, Bram’s much younger trophy wife, flopped into a chair next to her and fanned her face. ‘Is it hot in here or what?’
‘Sure is.’
Brittany deliberately ignored Frida’s first question, glad for the interruption; anything to distract from her thoughts of Nick.
However, she should’ve known the astute young woman who’d hosted parties for world dignitaries wouldn’t let her off that easily.
‘So, why the glum look? Has that dishy new husband of yours done something to upset you?’
‘No.’
Unless she counted upsetting her equilibrium. ‘Just tired, I guess.’
Frida’s gaze bordered on jealous as it zeroed in on Nick. ‘I’m not surprised, married to someone like that.’
Uncomfortable with the woman’s frank admiration—and shocked by the urge to scratch her eyes out—Brittany aimed for distraction.
‘Your dress is gorgeous. Local designer?’
Thankfully, Frida’s greedy gaze abandoned Nick and focused on her stunning ochre and crimson layered chiffon dress, the bodice hugging her fake boobs until it reached her waist, where it cascaded in a fiery waterfall of riotous colour to her ankles.
‘I designed it myself.’
The thought of the wife of Queensland’s richest man making her own dress almost shocked her as much as Nick’s unexpected kiss earlier.
‘Wow, you’re a talented designer.’
To her horror, Frida’s bottom lip wobbled as she blinked frantically. ‘Pity Bram doesn’t think so.’ She sniffed, plucked at a chiffon layer in her lap. ‘He said it looked like a bottle of orange soda exploded all over me.’
Brittany watched Bram, paunchy and balding and florid-faced, slap Nick on the back, while his beautiful wife fought tears.
Searching for a diplomatic answer, she finally said, ‘Bram’s a great businessman, but maybe his fashion sense isn’t up to par?’
Frida dashed her tears away with an angry swipe, a smile twitching at her mouth.
‘He also said I need liposuction and another facelift.’
Outraged, she abandoned all sense of politeness. ‘Guys are jerks.’
However, when her gaze returned to Nick, drawn by the magnetic power he exuded by just being in a room, she knew her statement wasn’t entirely true. Not all guys…
‘You can say that again.’
‘Guys are jerks.’
Frida chuckled and she joined in, wondering how an attractive young woman could hook up with an overbearing ass like Bram.
It all came down to money and, once again, she thanked her lucky stars she’d escaped that world and all it stood for.
‘Aren’t you the lucky one? Here comes your delicious husband.’Frida jumped up and smoothed her dress, tears forgotten as she batted her eyelashes at Nick. ‘Nice to see you, Nick.’
Nick nodded, his gaze fixed on Brittany rather than the eye-catching figure sashaying away in a fiery dress, earning him more Brownie points than she could count.
He sat beside her,