Heart of the Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 7)

He wrapped an arm around me. “Me too.”

“It’s so beautiful here,” I murmured when we came to a stop far away from the twinkling lights of the compound, gazing out at the open sea. “I can’t imagine why she would ever want to leave.”

James stuck one hand in his pocket and wrapped the other arm around my shoulders. A brisk draft waltzed his dark hair across his face, and there was nothing chilly about it. In fact, the temperature had nothing to do with the shivers that ran up and down my spine and everything to do with the strange, dream-like quality of the magical night.

“You know what this reminds me of?” James began quietly.

“What?”

“The first time we met.”

I twisted my head around to look at him, surprised that he was having the same flashback I was. Nevertheless, I wanted to pick his beautiful mind, so I asked, “How so?”

He glanced down at me, then looked back out to the ocean with a faint smile on his face. “That night, I felt like I could do anything. The rules that usually govern me suddenly didn’t apply, and I was just...free.”

I bit back a smile. While I was sure he wasn’t aware of it himself, James spoke a lot differently than most people, like a poet, always sharing grandiose ideas with a lyrical tongue. That, combined with his English accent, swept me off my feet every time. “With your life, I imagine you feel that way most nights,” I replied.

Again, he glanced down with a bit of surprise, then shook his head. “Hardly. It doesn’t matter how far I travel or how deep off the grid I try to go. Someone always recognizes me. Someone always pulls out a phone or a camera. Someone always knows and shouts my name and...” He broke off suddenly as a strange weariness flickered across his face. Then, just as suddenly as it clouded, it brightened into the most radiant of smiles. “It was always like that, until I met you.”

This time, it was my turn to be surprised. I stepped out of his arm and frowned at him with obvious confusion etched all over my face. “What do you mean?” Then, before he could respond, I was quick to add, “I hate to break it to you, James, but they still recognize you. They still know your name.”

He laughed quietly, burying his feet in the ivory sand. “You didn’t. For a few hours, I was just some guy you met in London. You were just a girl I... Della, I haven’t felt like that in a really long time.”

My confusion melted away, replaced with a shy smile. “And you feel like that again now? Like we’re just...normal?”

Before I knew what was happening, he answered by pressing a gentle kiss against my lips. “I feel limitless with you, absolutely, undeniably, irresistibly free,” he said when we pulled apart.

As much as I wanted to, I could think of nothing to say. Of course he made me feel the same way. Waking up with James was like lying next to my own personal sun. No matter how boring or mundane the days were, he always found a way to brighten them, to illuminate the simple, fantastical, or whimsical things I never would have noticed without him. On his worst day, James was a thousand times better than any person I’d ever met, and I had the feeling that the guy didn’t have too many bad days. He was simply incandescent, entirely unencumbered, restless, insatiable, and free. If anyone got close to him, some of that was bound to rub off, and he just made me feel shiny, inside and out.

I knew, though, that none of that had anything to do with me. If anything, I was a chain around his ankle, linking him forever to London. I didn’t understand why he thought otherwise, and I wanted to ask, but I found myself saying something else instead: “Why didn’t you kiss me then, after our first date at The Dorchester?” I was just as surprised as he was by the question, but I suddenly had to know. “I thought you were going to. You actually leaned in and everything, but then you just...stopped and told Frank to take me home. Why?”

James hesitated for a moment, as if he was considering how much he was actually willing to say, but then his face softened with a thoughtful smile. “Your necklace,” he said, “that ruby.”

My eyes flickered automatically to the pendant that hung around my neck; it had become such a habit to wear it that I forgot I’d even put it on that morning.

He reached up to touch it, and it grazed softly along my skin. “With you, I didn’t want us to follow the usual script,” he said suddenly, his fingers glossing over the crimson jewel. “Fancy dinner, sex on the first date, something ordinary, the same thing that happens all the time. I’ve never felt that way about you, Della. You are... You deserve so much more than ordinary.”

“What?” I asked breathlessly, hanging on every word.

“You are not just casual,” he said, staring deeply into my eyes as he stroked his thumb against my cheek. “When it comes to us, I feel anything but that, so much more than that.”

Then, without another word, he took off his shirt and began walking toward the sea. His pants were soon to follow, and before I knew it, he was as naked as the day he was born.

“What are you doing?” I asked incredulously, staring at the discarded clothing heaped upon the white sand. “James, it’s the middle of the night, and—”

“You said you’ve never taken an ocean swim, love,” he said over his shoulder. “Come on, Jones. Now’s your chance.”

I hesitated only long enough to smile, watching his magnificent body wade fearlessly into the waves. Then, without a second thought, I followed after him.

The water was warm, far warmer than I thought possible. It hugged my skin with a gentle caress, like an old cotton quilt, and I slowly waded out to meet him, trailing my hands along the top with a wondrous, beaming smile on my face..

“Well? What’s the verdict?”

I looked up and saw him gazing down at me with a starlit smile. The moon painted silver streaks in his dark hair and along his muscular shoulders, trailing seductively down his chest. I stared for a moment at his silvery silhouette before taking in another deep breath of that floral aroma, closing my eyes as my entire body seemed to melt into pure sensation. “It’s like a dream,” I said, “a dream-come-true.”

His hands wrapped around mine under the water, and he pulled me a step closer. The sand swirled around our feet as the water lapped in gentle waves against our chests. Not a single sound could be heard from the island, and even the birds had gone to sleep. For miles, there was only the lullaby of the sea that stretched into the endless horizon beneath the moon.

“A dream,” he murmured, trailing his wet fingers up my arms and across my collarbone, then to the base of my neck, till they came to rest again on the pendant. “A good dream or a bad one?”