Page 15 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

The mystery babe refuses my offerings with a shake of her head.She glowers at me while cradling a cat in her arms.It’s black and shiny with spooky-assed green eyes.

Yeah, I’m a pig, because all I can do is lust after her.I’m barely able to breathe.

She’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, socks, and what looks like at least three thin cotton shirts.Since the wood didn’t burn, she’s got to be freezing.

My eyes dart quickly to the dim, smoky interior of the cabin.I see a half-falling-down old couch supporting a nylon sleeping bag.At least she has that.I note a few Walmart bags in the corner and an open gym bag.But by the look of things, she didn't bring much else.I’m beginning to think that coming here wasn’t exactly a planned getaway.

I breathe in the air, heavy with wet firewood smoke.

Boots is in trouble.Big trouble.Like I already told myself, Bootsistrouble.So much fucking trouble.And she needs help.

I return my attention to her face.She’s still glaring.“Take these to stay warm.”

“No.”Her mouth tightens, and she juts her chin up at me.She must be about five-eight without her boots.Her eyes burn with distrust.

Despite all that—and being the pig that I am—I can’t help but notice what’s underneath those shirts, sweatpants, and cat.Perfect, large tits.Perfect rounded hips.Slender, feminine ankles.

Gorgeous.Impossibly gorgeous.And standing not six inches in front of me in the doorway of this pile-of-junk cabin.How can a woman this gorgeous be real?

And seriously—what the fuck is she doing here?

“Go away, cowboy.”Her voice is heavy with an undercurrent of sadness and regret.I recognize that sound because it’s how I talk to myself in my head sometimes.

A lot of the time, really.

“Don’t be stupid,” I tell her.I continue to hold out the coat and boots and she continues to shake her head, but this time she’s more pissed off than sad.Did I really just call her stupid?

I’m the stupid one.In fact, I’m an idiot.

What did I expect—that she’d welcome me into her arms and thank me for saving her with a crusty pair of hiking boots and an old coat?

Why am I even here?Why did I think it was a good idea to come stand at the door to the cabin at six in the morning, ready to confront the squatter?

I clear my throat.“I meant to say that it would be stupid not to try to stay warm.”

She blinks at me and tips her head like she’s trying to figure out why I even care if she’s warm.Join the club, Boots.

She studies me while I study her.Her blond hair is a tangled mess.There’s mascara smeared under her eyes.I wonder if this is what she’d look like after a night rolling around in my bed.In my arms.

And I wonder why she’s wearing mascara.Maybe she was wearing it when she arrived here.And how long ago was that?

She’s a disheveled vixen.Seductive as she glows in the pale light cresting the eastern ridge.Stunning.Every cell of my body and mind goes on alert.

She straightens and glares at me.Nothing but hardcore determination in her steely blue eyes.

But as severe as her stare might be, it’s got nothing on the way the cat is looking at me.I’ve never been a big fan of cats.Don’t know much about them and never wanted to.But this one—he’s looking at me like he doesn’t need to figure out who I am and what my motives are because he’s already got me figured out.

Boots steps closer.I don’t want my body to react to her, but it doesn’t care what I want.Blood pounds in my ears.My dick twitches to life and presses into the front of my Wranglers.

I will it all to stop.

“Show me the deed you claim to have,” I tell her.

“I won’t be doing that.”

“What’s your name?”

Her gaze narrows.I see one of her eyelids twitch.“Nunya.”