Married to the Secret Billionaire

His free hand slides down my waist. His fingers grip my ass once, tightly, hard enough to make me gasp against his lips again. Then he grins and traces his fingers over the arch of my hipbone, before he slides his palm between my legs.

A shiver runs all the way through me, from the top of my head all the way down to my toes, which curl tightly under the water. His hands aren’t even inside, just over the top of my bathing suit. But he starts to stroke me slowly, and I’m already so fucking turned on, my clit swollen and throbbing with want, that it doesn’t take long before I’m bucking against his hand, clinging to him like my last lifeline in a deep ocean, as his fingers rub against me, harder, faster. My whole body trembles in anticipation. Just before I hit the peak, he kisses me again, hard and deep. I cry out into his mouth, the sound muffled by his kiss, and he grins as I come, shaking, my pussy tightening and releasing compulsively as his fingers slow their pace, and he slides his arm back around my waist instead.

When I finally stop quivering, he draws back just far enough to gaze down at me, heat evident in his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Sinclair,” he whispers.

I kiss him to avoid answering. I’ve missed you too, I think. I hope the kiss says what I can’t force myself to speak. When we break apart, he starts to kiss his way down my neck, clearly intent on carrying things forward.

But with the orgasm still racing through my nervous system, and my heart slowing a little, my reason is starting to return. My head clears from the rush of lust, and I remember why I stopped all of this in the first place.

“Ankor.” I press my palms against his chest. When he doesn’t stop kissing me, I sink under the water, ducking under his arm to swim free a few paces.

He stares after me, hurt evident on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, my voice so low it’s barely a whisper. “We can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ve missed you too, and I really…” My voice hitches. “I really like you, Ankor. But there are things about me you don’t know. Things that would…” My voice breaks this time. He just watches me, not interrupting. Waiting for me to recover enough to explain. I hitch in a deep, steadying breath. “My past is a mess. And it’s the kind of past that won’t stay buried. It’ll come for me, and when it does, I don’t want to get you involved. You don’t deserve that. Not when you’ve been nothing but kind to me, nothing but helpful and kind and…” And hot as hell in bed. Not to mention more attentive and caring than anyone I’ve ever dated.

I stop myself before I talk my way out of resisting him again.

I swim toward the shallow end. It doesn’t seem as far this time. But when my feet touch ground, I hear splashes. I turn to find Ankor next to me, chest glistening as he stands partway out of the water.

“I have secrets too, Sinclair,” he says, his own voice tight with emotion. “I understand what it’s like to have a bad past. Trust me. And it’s probably stupid to risk everything on a girl I barely know, but I want to. I promised myself I wouldn’t reveal my past, not here. This was supposed to be my fresh start. But I won’t throw away a chance at something special, Sinclair, and you are. This, whatever we have, it’s special. I’ve never felt this way before. Being with you is worth any risk.”

I stare, my lips parting with surprise. Whatever I expected him to say in the face of my admitting to a terrible past, it wasn’t this. I expected curiosity, maybe concern about where I come from. Not compassion. Not an offer of trust. I swallow hard and take a glance around the pool. The resort in the distance had begun to wake up, lights flicking on in the windows as people start to go about their daily business.

Pretty soon, we won’t be alone here anymore. Ankor must sense that, too.

“Not here,” he says. “But let’s talk this afternoon, okay? And I’ll tell you the truth.” He offers me a hand, like we’re making a deal.

I guess we are. I place my palm in his and squeeze, trying not to think about what I’ve just agreed to. “This afternoon,” I say. But I already worry I won’t be able to give him what he wants.

7

Ankor

Sinclair meets me at the resort restaurant at noon. There’s hardly anyone here at this hour—most people are out trying other cuisine around the island, or still napping on the beach or in their rooms after early morning swims. We have the place to ourselves, and what a place it is. Jutting out of the hotel rooftop, it has a view out over the entire beach below us, the jungle in the distance and the mountains behind it.