“Soft.Gentle.I want you.”I exhale.“Hard.”
He speeds up.Thrusts deeper.
Harder.
“You wanted more than a gentleman?”His darkened gaze pins mine.“You’ve got him.I’ll give you everything, Mia.Just keep making those sounds…” His eyes close.“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of you.”
My nails dig into his back.
My orgasm slams into me like a tidal wave, and I sob his name as I shatter.
Following with a deep groan, my sexy-as-hell billionaire boss thrusts once, twice more before spilling into the condom and collapsing over me, panting against my neck.
For a long moment, the only sound is our breathing.The storm we created.
I feel the truth in every breath we share.
That this isn’t just lust.
It’s longing.It’s fear.
It’s a man and a woman who didn’t mean to fall into something that’s suddenly bigger than either of them.
We don’t speak.We just feel.
And for those several seconds, when his breath is still ragged and his lips are on my shoulder, I realize something terrifying.
I don’t want to leave the yacht when the month is over.
Translation?I don’t want to leave him.
And when we finally dress in silence, I don’t ask what tonight means.
Because I already know.
Back inside, he slips into business mode again.Shakes hands.Nods.Poses for a photo with someone from Monaco Tech.
He’s the perfect gentleman.An excellent escort.His hand on the small of my back.
A touch here.An embrace there.
But he doesn’t speak my name again.
When we return to the yacht, Isla is waiting up with Mémé Ada.
“Uncle Roarke!”she squeals, running into his arms.
He scoops her up, presses a kiss to her hair.“What are you still doing awake?”
“Captain Feathers kept singing Les Mis!”she giggles.
He chuckles.“Tomorrow, you’re going to bed early.”
When he sets her down, he looks at me.And for one brief second, there’s something in his eyes.
Then it’s gone.
Leaving his niece with his grandmother, he walks me to my cabin door like a courteous stranger.
