The Billionaire's Kisses (Tycoon Billionaires 1)

Even though he’d made Amy feel as if she was the only woman in the universe earlier, she wasn’t so naïve to think he didn’t have a string of supermodels waiting to give him anything he demanded.

No, she’d stay away from him in all ways other than strictly professional. It was for her own safety and sanity…

Amy checked into her comfy-yet-corporate hotel room and napped for a couple of hours, then she awoke feeling refreshed, but hungry. Adam’s face filled her mind, and waves of excitement crashed into her heart. She firmly pushed away the misplaced joy, vowing to drag herself through the next three days, then fly back to London unharmed.

She pulled on a pretty red button-through dress, which was clingy and elegant, then she put on a little make-up, and styled her long hair to tumble around her shoulders. After dining in the hotel’s French restaurant, she drifted to the piano bar, where the décor was a sophisticated mix of modern and traditional. The leather couches and wooden tables that surrounded the black grand piano looked inviting, but they were all occupied by the smartly-dressed guests, who were enjoying the soothing jazz recital. So Amy plunked herself down on one of the vacant tall seats at the bar, and ordered a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. The atmosphere bustled as American businesspeople and Japanese tourists laughed and chatted loudly. Loneliness crept through her ribcage.

You could be having dinner with Adam Quinlan right now…

She shook herself out of it – she was here to work, not hook up with heartbreakers. She decided to quickly finish this drink, then go back to her room. She needed to spend some time tonight planning tomorrow’s presentation for the finance director of Quinlan Brothers. Ah, Quinlan… Adam’s gorgeous smile drifted into her mind, and her body filled with dazzling delight. He was so hot…

Stop it!

Amy sipped her wine and started to compose the opening lines of her presentation in her head. The mellow liquid soothed her, but it also incited a melancholy in her heart. She was probably only obsessing over Adam Quinlan because she was heartbroken about her ex. Not that she should be heartbroken after what he’d done – cheating bastard. It certainly made things awkward at work every time they saw each other, but neither of them was ready to quit Grafton Techs yet. It was even worse that they’d both decided to remain in the apartment until he could save enough money to move out. Amy realised that it was actually quite nice being here in New York and away from her depressing domestic situation.

Why did she never have any luck with men?

Amy snapped herself out of her daydreaming and tensed with the sense that someone was staring at her. The piano player was working up to a stirring climax, and all eyes were on him, apart from one pair, which, for some reason, were suffocating her with their scrutiny. She glanced up and saw that there was a man standing a few yards away striking a confident pose – one hand in his pocket, the other slung on his hip. He looked remarkably like Adam Quinlan, but Amy glanced away knowing it wouldn’t be him. Why would he be here? She tried to play it cool as she sipped her wine, but she could see – out the corner of her eye – that the man was waiting for her to notice him.

She glanced up again. He smirked coolly. Oh god, it was definitely Adam. He looked devilishly dashing in his suit. What was it about a man in a suit that made Amy’s thighs sizzle? She sensed a pent-up power in Adam, waiting to explode. He possessed an authority that made Amy’s heart flutter like an Edwardian gentlewoman, and she hated herself for that. She was a strong, independent woman, in control of her world. But he was like a man in command of the entire universe. He smiled casually, not taking his eyes off her.

Okay, Amy, calm down. He’s not here for you. He’s probably just got business in the hotel. Or he’s come to talk about the merger…

She waved politely, then turned to face the bar, hoping he’d go away, but desperately wanting him to come over. Which he did – oh god.

He leaned against the bar as if he owned it. “Good evening, Ms Carter. You look beautiful tonight. Utterly stunning.”

She raised a cool eyebrow. There was something about his tone that suggested he meant ‘utterly fuckable’.

“Thank you, Mr Quinlan. I feel it’s important to dress up for dinner.”

“Your efforts are appreciated.”

“Well, I didn’t dress up for you.”

Adam chuckled warmly, then he caught the bartender’s attention and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. He gripped the glass with his strong fingers and raised it toward Amy.

“To your very good health, Ms Carter.”

Amy was assaulted with an image of those beautiful fingers fondling her ass, delving in her panties, rubbing her hungry clit until she came hard…

She gulped her wine. “Do you have business in the hotel tonight?”

“Actually, I came here to speak to you.”

“Oh? I believe my phone is working fine. Something wrong with yours?”

He grinned. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how much more I’d like to see of you. So I came here, hoping we might find out what we’ve got in common. Other than an attraction for each other, of course.”

She sighed. “Just so you are aware, Mr Quinlan, these well-practised lines won’t result in me caving into your arms and acting like a schoolgirl. I am not a groupie; you are not a rock star, and as I said earlier, I will not be joining you between the sheets during my stay. Do you understand?”

He gazed into her eyes. “Will you stop calling me Mr Quinlan? It’s Adam, alright?”

Amy hopped off the bar stool. “Go and sexually harass someone else, will you?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she grabbed her purse, then turned and strutted outside to the terrace on quivering legs. Secretly hoping he’d follow…

This April evening was mild, and there was no one around. Solitude, at last. With shaking hands, Amy fumbled in her purse and pulled out a pack of duty-free cigarettes that she’d bought on the plane. She’d actually stopped smoking years ago, but her current emotional state had made her cave in at the thought of a comforting nicotine fix.