Counting the Kisses (Counting the Billions 3)

I shook my head, grinning at her. “You,” I told her. “Have I mentioned that you look particularly beautiful tonight?”

Abby blushed and ducked her head. “You might have,” she said, but I could tell that she was pleased with the praise. And I wasn’t just saying it to be nice. I had asked her to come out to dinner with me and told her that I wanted to take her someplace fancy. But I still hadn’t expected her to pull out the stops like she had.

She had left her blonde hair in loose waves that fell down around her shoulders, and she was wearing a stunning backless dress in lipstick red. I could just see a bit of a lacy black bra peeking out from the low-cut neckline, and I wanted nothing more than to drag her home with me.

It was definitely a change from the way she dressed around the office. And I would never ask her to dress like this all the time. I liked her relaxed look around the house, and I liked the professional look she had at work. But this—I definitely wasn’t complaining about the way she looked tonight. If it hadn’t been as fancy a place as it was, I might have dragged her off to the bathrooms to have my way with her there.

Of course, if it hadn’t been as fancy a place as it was, she probably wouldn’t be dressed like that.

I watched Abby shiver a little, and I frowned. “Are you cold?” I asked.

“No,” Abby said, shaking her head. “It’s just that the way that you’re looking at me...” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I think we can do without dessert. I’m not going to last much longer with you looking at me like that.”

I laughed. “I was thinking exactly the same thing,” I told her.

We finished up our dinner, chatting easily about the things we could do together that weekend. I didn’t care what we did as long as I got to spend time with her. I still couldn’t help thinking back to the previous weekend, when she’d been ignoring my calls. I definitely didn’t want to go back to that. Anything else would be preferable.

“Sir, I just wanted to let you know that there are a number of photographers out front,” the maître d’ informed me in an undertone as we were putting on our coats. “Our guys are, of course, doing their best to manage the situation, but it might be advisable for you and your lovely dining companion to leave through the back."

I glanced over at Abby, who was smiling at us. She shook her head slightly. “It’s all right,” she said. “Let’s give them a few photos. Maybe it’ll help cover up all the bad press from last week.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, remembering what she had originally said about wanting to stay out of the media’s eye. For a second, my mind flashed back to Ivy. But that was ridiculous. There had never been a time when Ivy didn’t want to be in full view of the media. And besides, what Abby said about covering up the stories from the trial made sense.

Because there had been plenty of stories all week. I hadn’t really read through any of them, not even the ones that Austin had forwarded over to me. For some reason, that week it had been easier to just ignore all of them. I could imagine, by now, the kinds of things they might be saying about me. And I realized I just didn’t care.

If people wanted to believe the media about me, so be it. The people that I worked with knew the real side of me. People like Abby would never believe the shit that was there in the tabloids about me. I just needed to surround myself with more people who didn’t care about all of that garbage. Keep reminding myself that if people didn’t want to do business with me over all of that, they probably weren’t the kinds of people that I wanted to do business with anyway.

Abby smiled at me. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this. And it’s up to you—if you want to sneak out the back then we will. I just think that if we control more of our narrative, give them a few good images of us together and give them tame stories about the two of us, it’ll keep them happy without them going wild speculating on all sorts of crazy things. They’ll have their column about our date night, rather than making up some stupid shit about how we do business together.”

“That’s a good point,” I said, nodding at her. “If we show them that we have nothing to hide, they’ll realize that we have nothing to hide.” I grinned. “Although I do like the idea of running out the back with you. It seems more exciting.”

Abby snorted and gestured down at her outfit, including her heels. “I’m not fit to be running anywhere tonight,” she pointed out. Then, she winked at me. “But I’m pretty sure I make suitable arm candy for the hottest young billionaire in Chicago?”

I laughed and pulled her into my arms for a moment, kissing her. “You always make suitable arm candy, as far as I’m concerned,” I promised her. I pulled away, and she finished buttoning up her jacket.

“All right, let’s go,” she said.

There weren’t as many photographers out front as I had expected, although we were both nearly blinded by flashbulbs the second we walked out together. I looped an arm around Abby, pulling her close and steadying her in case she had any of those clumsy jitters I had seen around the office. I tried to smile rather than grimace at the blinding lights. It was easier when I glanced down at Abby at the same time that she smiled dazzlingly up at me.

“They’ve got their photos—now take me home,” she demanded in an undertone, startling a laugh out of me.

We headed over to my car, where the driver was waiting. Together, one after the other, we slipped into the back seat. Abby giggled as we pulled away. “So that’s what it’s like to feel like a movie star, I guess,” she said.

I shook my head, making a face. “Sorry about that. Again,” I said.

Abby shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault,” she pointed out. “And anyway, it was my suggestion that we actually let them take some photos.”

“A brilliant suggestion, too,” I told her, brushing back a lock of her hair. “Yet another example of what a great CEO you’ll make one day.”

Abby blushed and ducked her head. “That’s a long way off,” she said.

I leaned in and kissed her, and she moved eagerly against me. As we kissed, I couldn’t keep myself from unbuttoning her jacket, my fingers tracing the low-cut neckline, touching the edges of her breasts, that teasing bit of lace I’d caught flashes of all evening.

“You drive me wild,” I told her between kisses.

Abby smirked at me, reaching down to fondle me in my slacks. “I’d noticed,” she said, and I groaned.

“You don’t know how many unsexy things I had to think just so that I could stand up and walk out of there without embarrassing myself,” I admitted, and she laughed.