He always makes everything fun, my billionaire boss. My devil kingpin fiancé.
“One.” He looks me up and down as I turn and get ready, leaning forward. “Two.” I eye up the romance aisles. That’s where I’m heading first. “Three.”
I’m giggling like a toddler as I sprint off to the fantasy romance section, my hair flying behind me, and Kane on my heels.
An elderly lady exclaims, “Oh!” as we blast past her, and heads turn as I screech to a halt, searching the shelves.
There. The full set of gold foil embossed, black-edged hardbacks of the series I’ve been reading as eBooks. I tug them off the shelf and Kane is there, arms outstretched for them.
“Give it to me, angel,” he growls, and I laugh again at the intense expression on his face.
There’s nothing my stalker likes better than to spoil me. Nothing grants him more pleasure than to make me come or giving me presents.
I pile the books onto his hands.
He winks. “More.”
“You’re going to regret this,” I say as I pull out another series—this one paperbacks with bright iridescent covers. My engagement ring glints in the lights as I pile them into Kane’s arms. It’s still not quite familiar. Not real that I’m loved enough to deserve that expensive ring. “Your arms will give way.”
“I’m strong enough to take it,” he teases as I scan the shelves for more favourite books. “You won’t break me, I promise. I’ll be your stallion and you can use me however you like.”
Another pile of hardbacks get tipped into his waiting arms and our eyes meet. And for a second, I’m distracted from my task by the sheer love I see there. Unconditional. He told me that a month ago, and has proved it over and over. There’s nothing I could do that would put my stalker off.
I’ve tried.
He doesn’t care if I’m sweaty, or messy. He doesn’t care if I’ve been crying over a book that broke my heart. Kane just gathers me up, snot and all, and cuddles me.
“I want that indie author series?—”
“In small-town romance,” he replies, reading my mind. “That way.” He jerks his head to the left.
I don’t ask how he knows that, just trusting him and jogging in that direction. And there on the top shelf, in a big display, is the whole twenty-book Canadian romance series I’ve been working through. I scoop them up. Then for good measure, I add some standalones by an author I recognise but haven’t read.
And we continue like that as the timer Kane set—when? How?—ticks down until as I stack a book on top of the two piles he’s holding, the alarm goes off.
“That’s all.” Kane rests his chin on the books and grins. “Should keep you busy for a while.”
“A week at least,” I reply innocently.
“Minx. Let’s buy you your book haul and then we can get you home for some reading time.” And the way he says it, I know he means that I’ll be reading, and he’ll be eating my pussy until my eyes cross.
At the till, the assistant takes in the unusual sight in her stride.
“Someone’s very lucky,” she says with a smile as she beeps through the novels, stashing them into strong paper bags with the shop’s logo on the front.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I am.”
The total is obscene, and I gasp as the assistant announces it.
“Thank you.” Kane passes over a credit card without a blink.
I pause though. “Maybe I don’t need…” I finger the most expensive books. The limited-edition ones.
“Don’tneed?” He glowers.
“It’s a lot of money.”
“Stop.” He raises his hand and catches the assistant’s eye. She’s standing at the till, his bank card in hand, a little awkward.
