Tempting the Billionaire (Love in the Balance 1)

“I just did.”

Shane lifted his eyebrows. “You mean until last night the only person you ever slept with was your husband?” Primal, and maybe even downright prehistoric, possessiveness made him want to beat his chest. Mine.

Crickitt made a face, mistaking his pride for surprise. Before she could hide under the sheets and stay there, he laid her flat on her back beneath him. A startled yelp followed by a throaty laugh escaped her beautiful mouth.

“I’m a lucky guy.”

She rolled her eyes.

He meant to claim her with a deep kiss but found himself pressing his lips softly against hers. Heat burned between them all the same. “Now would be a good time for you to massage my ego. Tell me how I stack up to your former lover.”

Crickitt squirmed, but he kept her caged between his arms.

“Right,” she said, stilling. “Like your ego needs massaging!”

He narrowed one eye. “Uh-oh. Does that mean I wasn’t any good? Because I’d be glad to make it up to you. I’m a quick learner. A hard worker.”

To prove his point, he kissed a trail from her collarbone to the freckle on her neck, which had become his fifth favorite part of her body. He flicked out his tongue and she giggled. He found the unique ticklish spot this morning. “Told you I was a quick learner,” he said, doing it again.

He assaulted her until she shrieked, “Fine! I give!”

Her face grew serious, her voice quiet. “You make me forget”—she trailed a finger along the stubble on his face—“what it’s like to be with anyone else.”

Damn. Shane gulped. That was honest. He didn’t think he could say something like that to himself, let alone out loud. Even though, he realized as sweat beaded his temple, it would have been true for him, too.

Crickittt’s eyes were moist from laughing, her cheeks flushed. Sifting her fingers into his hair, she looked past him. “What about me?”

Hesitation laced her voice. She had no idea how amazing she was. No clue. He leaned in and kissed her, slowly this time, until she made a needy sound in the back of her throat. When he lifted his head, he could make out the doubt in her eyes, but now passion competed for space.

“You,” he said, “are the only woman I’ve ever spent the day in bed with.”

He didn’t know if it was enough, but it was as much as he could give. He waited for her to push him away. Instead, she tugged his head to her mouth and nipped his earlobe.

“Get comfortable,” she purred. “I’m keeping you here all night, too.”

Then his brain quit functioning altogether.

Chapter 26

Crickitt passed her suitcase to Thomas and climbed into the rear of the limo while he loaded the trunk. Shane followed, unfolding his long body next to her as he reached for her hand. He didn’t speak, only brushed her knuckles with his thumb, his head down.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, doing her best to keep from grinning. He’d been scrambling eggs for two this morning when she’d joined him at the stove. He’d moved the pan from stove to sink, lingering over her lips instead.

He pressed a fingertip into the corner of her mouth. “I see that,” he murmured. “We can stop if you’re hungry.” He grasped one of her curls, winding it around his finger.

“I’m good,” she said, her grin emerging.

“I’ll say.” He put a smacking kiss on the center of her mouth.

Thomas angled down the mountainside to take them home.

After the third hour of repeating tree-and-hill landscape outside her window, Crickitt was nearly mad with boredom.

“Do you only travel by ground?” she asked Shane, who had since relocated to the bench opposite her.

He looked up from a newspaper he’d been flipping through. “Hmm?”

“Why don’t you fly? If you had your own plane, you could be to Tennessee in, like, an hour instead of sitting through a six-hour car ride.”

“I like the ride. Gives me time to think.”

“Have you heard the phrase time is money?”

“Have you heard the phrase stop and smell the roses?”

“Yes,” she said, “but I don’t think it applies here.”

He returned to his article. “I don’t fly.”

Well. That was unexpected.

“I don’t like it and I have the means to avoid it, so I do,” he said.

“Oh.”

“I have a passport.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not like I’ve been in a plane crash or have a phobia,” he continued defensively. “I just don’t like it.”