How to Bag a Billionaire

‘I need to check your bag,’ he broke in.

‘My bag?’

‘Yes, your bag,’ he said, his impatience tingeing the air.

Olivia glanced down at the bag in confusion. Looking back up at the exasperation that lit the brown eyes, she realised his motivation was irrelevant. Right now it seemed clear he wouldn’t listen to anything she said until she gave it to him. She ducked down awkwardly and picked up the bag.

‘I’ll come round,’ he said.

She heard the thud as he presumably jumped down from the toilet; she pushed the door open and held out the bag. ‘Look, is this really necessary?’ she asked, a shudder of aversion shivering through her as he started to sift through the contents.

‘Yes,’ he stated. ‘My security chief is worried that you are locked in here constructing a bomb.’

Fabulous! Her stomach plummeted into a free fall of panic; she was under suspicion of being a terrorist.

Come on, Olivia. Calm down. You’ve talked your way out of worse than this before.

Though she suspected that talking her way past this man would be akin to melting iron with an incense stick.

Still, she had to try. She took a step forward out of the cubicle and straightened her spine.

‘I realise all this is a bit bizarre, but I’m not a terrorist and I’m not here with the intention of hurting anyone. If—’

Adam Masterson wasn’t so much as looking at her, let alone listening. Instead he was on the phone.

‘Nate,’ he said. ‘I’ve checked the bag. Our enterprising intruder locked herself in the toilet to get dressed, not to build a bomb.’ He listened for a moment and then put the phone back into his pocket.

OK. At least the terrorist theory had been knocked on the head. Not that Adam Masterson looked relieved; if anything the set of his lips was even grimmer, the frown deeper. Time to try again.

‘Look, I’m truly sorry,’ she said. ‘I never meant to cause so much hassle. I really, really just want to—’

A derisive snort interrupted her. ‘I know what you really, really want to do, and I’m really, really not interested.’

Olivia frowned. ‘You can’t possibly know why I’m here.’ She was having trouble enough believing it herself.

Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket.

‘Hang on!’ Olivia said. ‘You’ve got to listen.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope, I don’t. I’ve got to get Security in here to remove you from the premises.’

The panic erupted in her chest; this was her chance and she’d blown it. Unless... Maybe now was the time to utilise her black belt in taekwondo.

Propelled by the sheer impossibility of failure, Olivia launched herself at him.

‘What the—?’

Taking advantage of his millisecond of surprise, she knocked the phone from his hand.

To no avail.

In a fluid movement he’d caught the mobile and shock juddered Olivia’s body as she collided with an immovable wall of chest. Strong arms locked behind her back in a hold way too powerful for her to break even as she leant back, shoving her palms flat against his chest.

Her breath escaped in short, sharp pants as she looked up at him. For a fleeting second his light brown eyes darkened and focused on her lips. Unable to help herself, she dropped her gaze to his mouth as a sudden shiver prickled her skin.

A shiver not of fear but of desire.

Which was ridiculous. Right now her instincts should have kicked in; she should be at least attempting to struggle free. Instead she couldn’t stop staring at the mesmerising shape of those firm, capable lips. His heart pounded under her hand; her fingers curled into the silk of his white shirt.

As she pressed her own lips together to moisten them something primal flickered in his eyes. His arms tensed to pull her forward. Then abruptly he released her.

Her skin tingled where his arms had touched her and Olivia stepped backwards, until the cold marble of the counter pressed into the backs of her thighs. Her heart thumped painfully against her ribcage. Perspective—she desperately needed to locate some. Along with control. Her master plan was in tatters and somehow she had to salvage it. Before Adam Masterson called Security.

He stood there, those gorgeous lips set in a grim line. Anger darkened his face; his eyes were cold chips of mud. ‘Lady, just how far are you prepared to go to bag me?’

‘Excuse me?’ What was he talking about? Perhaps his proximity had addled her brain cells completely. Somehow she had to pull herself together and try and turn this situation around. She had no idea what had happened in those charged seconds in his arms but she couldn’t let it ruin everything. ‘I don’t understand.’