The Billionaire's Forgotten Fiancée

He chuckled softly. “Is that true or some kind of urban legend?”

“Probably true,” she said primly.

He reached over and linked their fingers together. “Better?”

She turned toward him, her eyes wide. The gesture was unexpectedly sweet, like he used to make when they’d been together. The engine roared as the plane picked up speed. Her fingers tightened, and he leaned close and covered her mouth with his.

The contact sent a shockwave through her system. It was like being pulled into a maelstrom of irresistible heat and delicious sensation. Need pulsed through her, her heart pounding. And underneath the sexual want was a sense of completion—she was with the man who was created just for her. And she clung to that feeling, trying to forget everything else that had been bugging her.

She clutched the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He kissed her hard and deep like they hadn’t just pleasured each other only hours before. He thrust with his tongue, and she pulled it in, sucking it and loving his aggression. The spot on her chest where he’d spurted tingled, and she clenched her thighs, the emptiness between them aching.

The PA system pinged, and the pleasant voice of the cabin attendant announced that the jet had reached cruising altitude.

Ginger blinked and drew back to her seat, her sensitive mouth parted and swollen. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Shane pulled his lips in like he wanted to savor a final taste.

Her gaze slid to the stateroom in the back. The Pryce family jet had a king-size bed and a shower in there.

Her phone buzzed. She looked down, her face still hot. “Jeez. I forgot to turn it off.”

“Who cares? It’s a perk of flying private. You can do whatever you want,” Shane said.

She glanced at him sharply. That was something he’d used to say. Quickly she forced a smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” There was a text waiting for her from a number she didn’t recognize. It read:

A deposit has been made to your account. Mr. Dane Pryce asked me to tell you that you’ve done well.

It must be from his assistant. There was also an email from her bank, informing her of the incoming money. She raised her eyebrows. It was far too much, even if he was paying for almost five times the money she would’ve normally made for half the year. She quickly wrote: It’s too much.

A moment later, another reply came. Consider it a bonus. Mr. Pryce is pleased with your progress.

She pressed her lips together. Just like Dane to reduce everything to money, like it was the only motivation.

Her coming out here had probably made him believe she was in it for financial gain. And she couldn’t lie that finances were a part of the equation since he’d threatened to ruin her freelance career if she didn’t cooperate. But she also had a line she wouldn’t cross, no matter what anybody promised.

“What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a leech,” Shane said.

She laughed at the description. “You know, I think I just did.” She put the phone back in her purse, then pushed all thoughts of Dane aside. There was no reason why she should let him put her in a crabby mood.

None.

* * *

Shane hadn’t expected anybody to come to the airport—he hadn’t told anyone he was coming home. His plan was to have a car pick them up and go to his place. His family’s concierge service had set up a romantic dinner for two on the balcony, and toward the end of their dinner he’d give Ginger the ring back. He’d considered giving it to her in Thailand as soon as it’d arrived, but it seemed better to do it properly and romantically, just the way all women dreamed of. The concierge had promised it’d be perfect, and Ginger might be even overcome with joy and cry.

Heh, he thought with a small grin. She didn’t have to cry. Just being happy would be good enough. He didn’t remember how he’d proposed, but hopefully the second time would be just as memorable as the first.

But the moment he stepped off the plane, a horde of extremely well-dressed people mobbed him. The women among them were expensively perfumed as well. He stared at the madhouse, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Shane, Shane!” the oldest person from the group hugged him. Her scent was familiar although he couldn’t quite place it. Despite her age, she was beautiful, her skin flawless, her bones delicate and elegantly formed. A black Chanel dress on her made her look like she was attending a funeral, but she wore a big smile on her face. “It’s so good to have you back home.”

“Yeah, man.” A tall dark man slapped his shoulder. The man next to him nodded. They bore a very strong resemblance to each other, and a somewhat weaker one to him, possessing the classic features that Shane saw every time he looked in the mirror.

Iain and Mark. Dane was probably lurking in

the background, thinking of something obnoxious to say. A woman with bright red hair hugged him from behind. “I knew you’d be back,” she said against his back, her voice muffled. “I just knew you wouldn’t stay away forever.” She sniffled.

“Don’t mind her. She’s pretty emotional right now,” Mark said. “Transitioning from first to second trimester.”

“Don’t you dare try to reduce me to hormones,” Vanessa said, wiping away tears.