Ally Blake - Untamed Billionaires - Marriage - For Business or Pleasure? / Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue / One Night with the Rebel Billionaire

From where he sat, the only thing forgotten was how damn good it felt to be with her like this.

‘Want me to take a look?’

‘Uh-huh,’ she answered absent-mindedly, not looking up from the pad. ‘I was sure we’d covered everything but…’

He perched on the couch next to her, grateful for the opportunity to get closer to the woman who was driving him slowly insane with every flutter of her mascaraed eyelashes, with every teasing smile.

Dinner had been a quiet affair and her genuine appreciation for his culinary skills made him feel like a god, yet the underlying tension with every glance, every smile, stretched taut between them.

While she looked amazing tonight, her fancy top and figure-hugging trousers outlining her body to perfection, a body that beckoned him to trace its contours, to feel every gorgeous line, it was more than that.

They’d slipped back into the comfortable camaraderie they used to share and he was thrilled. While he had no illusions about this marriage being anything other than what it was—a convenient business arrangement—it would be so much easier to be friends.

Or more than friends, if he was lucky. He wanted her just as badly now as he ever had, the driving hunger startling and ferocious and capable of sending him bonkers.

‘Are you going to help me or just sit there with that goofy look on your face?’

She waved the pen under his nose and he managed a rueful grin. He’d settle for goofy when, the way his thoughts had been heading, she would’ve been more accurate in describing him as drooling.

‘Let me take a look.’

He leaned towards her, a swift stab of longing shooting straight to his groin as a waft of her vanilla perfume hit him.

Vanilla: warm, sweet, tempting.

Exactly how he saw her. The same tantalising scent she’d worn that fateful night ten years ago, the night he’d told her there would never be anything between them.

He just wished he had the same self-control now, but with her inches away, looking like his living, breathing fantasy, a guy could only take so much.

‘This list has stuff for you to do and the stuff I can help with.’

She tapped her pen against the paper in a sharp staccato sound, an action fast becoming a nervous habit, and he struggled to focus on her writing, more intrigued by the streaks of blonde through her copper hair and the way they highlighted her beautiful face.

‘What’s missing?’

‘This.’

He tipped her chin up, drinking in her slightly flushed cheeks, her sparkling blue eyes, her glossed lips. Man, she was a stunner, and as a spark of desire flared in her eyes he knew this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with a few kisses.

As he moved towards her she stiffened and pulled away.

‘We need to concentrate. The sooner we get married, the sooner I can really get started on my work around here and the sooner I get my promotion. Capish?’

She sent him a nervous smile before waving the pad in his face and, though he’d love nothing better than to see if her desire matched his, he relented.

The mention of her promotion did it. She was doing this for her career, as he was, with no place for emotions to cloud the issue.

Scanning the extensive list she’d made, he pointed to the last few asterisks.

‘The licence, the legalities, all taken care of.’

When she quirked an eyebrow, he shrugged. ‘Things get done when you have money.’

A shadow passed over her face and he silently cursed his choice of words. If anyone knew the cause and effect of money, she did. Her father threw enough of the green stuff around to buy whatever and whoever he wanted.

He should know.

‘So the venue’s all taken care of?’

For the first time since she’d arrived tonight, his confidence wavered.

‘I thought the hotel garden would be a good spot? Beneath that poinciana tree near the pool?’

It was a perfect spot for a wedding, or so he’d been told by many guests: the towering umbrella-shaped tree laden with bright red flowers, Noosa beach in the background, clear blue ocean as far as the eye could see.

Britt had made him all too aware this marriage was a business merger, nothing more, yet he remembered how sentimental she’d get over the slightest thing and, while she appeared aloof with the planning, he’d bet his last dollar she’d want something a tad special.

‘That’s fine.’

Her pen picked up tempo as she focused on the list, obviously eager to get this over and done with so she could escape. Accepting this marriage was business was one thing, having to pretend to like it another.

Why did that rankle so much? It wasn’t as if this were remotely romantic yet somehow, ever since she’d returned—and returned his kisses—he’d been having strange pains in his chest, the type of pain he used to have when she was around all those years ago.

She intrigued him, infuriated him, inflamed him and, though he tried to dismiss this marriage as a means to a goal, deep down he knew better.

He’d always wanted a family, the type of family he’d never had, and the only woman he’d ever let get close was sitting less than a foot away with fiddling fingers and a wary gleam in her blue eyes.

‘Anything else?’

‘What about a notice in the newspaper for an authentic touch?’

‘That’s it.’ She jotted it down. ‘I’d call you a genius but it’d just go to your head.’

‘Try me.’

He leaned towards her with the sole intention of brushing a stray tendril of hair from her forehead. He never got the chance as their gazes locked for a heated moment before she leaped off the couch.

‘Right, we’re all done here. Thanks for dinner, it was great.’

She shoved the notebook into her bag, slung it over her shoulder. ‘I’m pretty tired, so I’ll head off now. Big day Friday.’

With an overly bright smile, she practically ran around the room. ‘I’ll get a copy of this list to you tomorrow. We don’t have much time to get everything organised, so the sooner we get it done, the better. I’ll—’

‘Red?’

‘Yeah?’

She paused mid-flight and took a deep breath, the simple action drawing his attention to her breasts and the way they filled out her ribbed top.

‘For a city girl, you’re sure behaving like a country virgin.’

He expected a host of retorts, or at least one decent smart-ass remark.

Instead, she glared at him, flushed a deep crimson and bolted out of the door.

Brittany wriggled her toes in her favourite Garfield slippers, pulled her fluffy tangerine robe tighter and cradled a hot chocolate while scanning her emails.

Not that she needed the extra calories after the mountain of food she’d consumed at Nick’s, but chocolate didn’t count, especially of the liquid variety. Besides, the way she was feeling right now, she needed comfort food, and this was it.

Nick had been right, damn him.

She had behaved like a country virgin, the exact way she used to act around him ten years earlier, jumping like a cane toad whenever he glanced her way; which had been often, though that hadn’t been the hard part.

The hard part had come when he’d looked at her as if he wanted to gobble her up and come back for more. Several times.

As for that almost-kiss…yikes! She’d deflected it with some pathetic line about needing to concentrate, but he hadn’t been fooled. She’d seen it by the knowing glint in his toffee eyes, by the smirk that had played around his kissable lips. And they were definitely kissable.

She’d wanted that kiss so badly she’d almost tasted it yet had done the smart thing and fobbed him off.

Smart for whom?

For both of them. She wasn’t interested in making this marriage real. She had a successful career waiting for her in London, a fabulous promotion, good friends, a great apartment. Everything a girl could want.