Page 17 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

Longing flickered in his eyes. He kissed her with a firmness she read as saying: I want you again, and again, and again. A couple of minutes passed before he pulled back and drew an audible breath.

“Damn, woman. We better cool off with that ice cream before you kill me.”

He led her through the apartment, a mini tour en route to the kitchen. To their collective disappointment, the freezer held only two pints.

Natalie folded her arms. “Baskin-Robbins, huh?”

“I might have a bit of a sweet tooth.” With a container in each hand, he asked, “Pistachio or Mint Chocolate Chip?”

“How about we each eat half, then we trade?”

“Done.” He nodded. “Fastest business deal I’ve closed all month.”

A-ha. The perfect segue to find out exactly how he financed his impressive lifestyle.

Does it matter, though? Really?

Unless … he’s looking to invest in a premiere event planning company?!

Stop. You know that’s not why you’re here.

“What line of work?” she asked casually.

“Sales. Boring stuff, trust me.” It took opening several drawers before he located two spoons. “Sorry, I’ve moved around lately. Still don’t have the lay of the land in this kitchen.”

Natalie took a pint and spoon from his outstretched hand. “Oh, that’s okay.”

“What about you?” he asked.

She took a bite of ice cream, debating how much or how little to share. She decided on the latter and decided to keep it broad.

“I work in hospitality. Boring stuff, trust me.”

Mr. Crown nodded but didn’t ask her to elaborate. Natalie watched as he loaded up a tray with all sorts of goodies—candy, chips, sodas, and water bottles. When he turned to her, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“You look like a 1930s movie theater snack vendor.”

His mouth curled into a smile. “Which happens to be the exact look I’m going for. You, me, my bed, and a movie. What do you say?”

What do I say? I say, yes. A thousand times, yes.

“After you,” she said with a bow.

Natalie followed him down a hall off the entry, its walls lined with massive canvases.

He’s into art, too? Wait until I tell Kate.

His hands full, he motioned to the last door with his chin. She opened it and flipped the light switch, making a quick visual sweep. Like the rest of the apartment, his bedroom exuded warmth and class. Photo-shoot ready, but also comfortable. Kinda like, well, the man himself. The real star of the room? The inviting king size bed—all fluffy and cloud-like in layers of creamy white linens.

She turned back to him, a child-like gleam in her eyes. “May I?”

“Absolutely. It’s what I’d do if my hands weren’t full.”

Natalie sprinted and dove onto the bed. Mr. Crown parked the tray on the bedside table, then hopped in beside her. A wrestling match ensued for a minute, laughter and tickles, until she begged him to stop. Lying face to face, he smoothed her hair off her forehead with a caring touch.

“You’re doing it,” he said.