Beauty and the Billionaire

Afterwards, we had stayed wrapped in each other's arms. I remembered rolling over and tucking her against me. Clarity had sighed with such easy contentment as her fingers traced electric circles across my chest. We had let the fire die down to embers as n

either of us had any desire to part.

I released a shuddering sigh against the sweet curve of her neck. Clarity was different from any woman I had dated. Even before I started at Landsman, I had always held back. There had been reasons and obstacles, many made-up, and I had always felt the need to keep my distance from the women I saw.

With Clarity, we were close the moment we met. I remembered the intimate space beneath the stairs, the removed murmurs of her father's party. Clarity had strolled right up and fit into a place in my life I didn't know was there. She filled a place in me that I hadn't known was empty.

Clarity shifted in her sleep and responded to the strokes of my hand down her thigh. She pressed her hips back, rubbing against my throbbing body, before she nestled back into sleep. Every inch of me pulsed with desire for her. I was keenly aware of every delectable, naked inch of her, and it took all my willpower not to throw back the covers and explore her in the brightening sunlight.

She muttered in her sleep, and I thought I caught the word 'expose.' Clarity was fretting in her dreams about the article we had published and the consequences we would have to face. I lifted my hand from her silken thigh and smoothed it over her hair. The worrisome dream disappeared under my soft touch and I felt her body relax back into a deep slumber.

It was too early for her to wake up and worry. I kept still beside her, guarding over her peaceful sleep even though my body burned and throbbed for her. I eased back an inch only to give myself a tantalizing view of the curve of her hip. My mouth watered, but I kept still.

I pressed my heated thoughts into my pillow. It was a miracle we had made it to the bed at all last night. Clarity had been languid and so comfortable with our naked lounging on the sofa. It wasn't until the loose spring started to stab at our backs that she shifted.

I had pushed past the lump in my throat and had asked her, "Do you want me to walk you home or do you want to stay?"

"Can I stay?" she had asked with such an open, hopeful look that my heart tumbled right out onto the floor.

I had scooped her up in my arms despite her giggling protests and kissed her with a possessive fire I hadn't known I had. Clarity had melted in my arms and I had moved quickly to get us to the soft sanctuary of the bedroom.

The second time we had made love was a slow exploration that had stripped me down to bare want. Clarity was everything that I had ever wanted and more. The taste of her skin intoxicated me, the catches of her breath were like music, and the connection of our bodies so deep that I didn't know where I ended and she began.

My lungs stopped, as if any slight move would shatter the thought. It circled around and around my brain, but I couldn't let it form. I shifted farther away from Clarity and felt the loss of her warmth like something was torn away.

I loved her. It rang inside my head, coursed through my already convinced body. All I wanted to do was gather her close to my body and stay in the peace of our shared bed.

What would she say? Did she feel anything near the same?

Clarity was young, she was on the cusp of big changes, and last night was probably nothing more than a celebration to her.

I shook my head. Clarity was different. She didn't do anything casually. My heart turned over. We couldn't have come together without a balance; that just didn't seem right. The blood pounded in my head as I hoped. Clarity had to feel the same otherwise she wouldn't have given herself so openly to me.

I couldn't breathe. I rolled over to the edge of the bed and sat up, but that was as far as I could make myself go. I sat and watched her from the corner of my eye.

It would be better if I disappeared before she woke up. How could Clarity end up with someone like me? All her optimism and enthusiasm was wasted on me. I was too old for her, too jaded by far, and, now, thanks to my latest attempt to regain what I'd lost, I was now jobless.

A heavy weight clutched at my chest and I forced myself to concentrate only on getting a deep breath. Why did it hurt so much to think about pushing her away?

Clarity deserved more. She deserved someone as young and buoyant as her. I would only weigh her down.

Unless she pulled me up.

The thought pushed its way into my head and then expanded. It took over the way sunlight could fill a room. Clarity had already given me a spark of inspiration and a chance to recapture some integrity. Then she had willingly given me the sweet, rapturous feel of her body.

I hung my head. This was bad. It was awful. I couldn't be in love with her because the best thing for her was for me to get out of the way.

I couldn't shield her from Michael Tailor. If the rich donor decided he wanted to turn the screws harder on Dean Dunkirk, then Clarity was certainly going to get hurt. After the internship was gone, Tailor would find another way.

The frustration pushed me to my feet. Knowing the way men like Tailor and Barton worked, I could guess that Clarity would have paperwork problems and any number of bureaucratic nightmares. Or they wouldn't be so subtle.

Why would Tailor be above physical intimidation?

I thought of Clarity joking about a road trip but the idea seized me with a wild thread of hope. She and I could take off over winter vacation and not return. Dean Dunkirk would be able to settle the truth with the college president thanks to our expose. There was no reason we needed to be around for the aftermath.

Clarity would complain about missing school, but there was a whole wide world we could go see. She would be safe and we would be together.

I shook my head. I wanted to steal her away from the life she knew and the gesture was not entirely unselfish. Some hero I would turn out to be.