“She looks absolutely adorable, doesn't she?” Asher said as he gazed lovingly at our daughter.
“She has your eyes,” I said.
“And your smile,” he replied.
I crept up to her as she slept, doing my best to keep quiet and not rouse her from her slumber. She stirred, and I froze momentarily, but then she smiled in her sleep and burbled softly. I aimed the camera at her cherub-like face and snapped a shot. The lighting was just perfect. I uploaded the picture to Facebook, with a suitable amount of hearts and smiley faces.
The first “like” came from Asher, of course. I looked up at him with a grin.
“Mr. Sinclair, are you stalking me on Facebook?” I whispered.
“Why, I'd never do such a thing Mrs. Sinclair. You’re a married woman,” he said in a tone of mock shock.
We both laughed, and I eased over to him and jumped into his arms. He caught me with a laugh, swung me around in a circle and then planted a deep, sensuous kiss on my lips, which got my heart racing and my cheeks flushed with heat. Even after marriage and a child, he was still able to turn me on with a mere glance, or a touch.
Still in his arms, I disengaged from the kiss as the phone in my hand buzzed. It was a notification from Facebook.
“Eddie likes the photo,” I said. “And he just sent a message saying hi to both of us.”
“Say hi back. He and I need to have a beer when his band gets back from touring.”
“I'll tell him.”
“Oh, and Meg wants to come over early before dinner. Shall I tell her we're free now?”
He kissed me before answering, and again electricity rippled across my skin.
“Not just yet,” he said. “You and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”
“Oh we do?” I asked with a cheeky grin.
“Yeah. In the bedroom. Around . . . now, I think.”
“I'll tell her to come over in an hour then.”
He kissed me passionately, and we were both panting when he disengaged.
“Make it two hours,” he whispered. “Make it two . . .”
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ROCK STAR BILLIONAIRE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Owen
I hadn’t felt that energized in a long time. Nothing compared to the feeling of pouring my heart and soul into a microphone with my band. And tonight, I was feeling adrenaline I hadn’t felt since the early days when we were still unknown teenagers playing dive bars and practicing in the garage. Why? Because something was about to happen that hadn’t happened in over five years. Something I had missed terribly, but hadn’t realized just how much until the very moment I was standing there with the mic in hand and the guys playing behind me.