Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 6)

“Very.”

“So what are you thinking?”

He softly cupped my face. “I’m thinking I should take a chance.”

“I’m thinking the same thing too.”

He held me close and hugged me. I loved the way I felt in his strong arms. It was like I always belonged there. My eyes lit up when I noticed the tattoo on his chest. I was grinning because I knew I definitely had the right guy.

“What?”

I pointed. “Your tattoo.”

“Oh this? Is that the proof you needed? You didn’t subconsciously spill that coffee to get your proof now, did you?”

I laughed. “No!”

“Maybe this tattoo is my glass slipper.”

I cocked a brow. “How so?”

“In a way, it’s kind of like Cinderella. Prince Charming found a glass slipper. He knew it had to fit his future princess. You saw my tattoo and knew that your Prince Charming had to have that particular design.”

I chuckled. “So while Prince Charming went through the kingdom having every maiden try on the glass slipper, I went through the land and tore every man’s shirt off, looking for my tattoo.”

We both laughed.

“Yes,” I said. “You should’ve seen me in action.”

“I bet every man loved it!”

“No, they thought I was a complete lunatic.”

“You’re kidding. You never did such a thing.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I only did that to your brother.”

“Hmmm. I don’t like to think about that.”

“But it gave me the proof that I needed. That he wasn’t you. So maybe this doesn’t follow the traditional fairytale after all.”

He gazed into my eyes. “Yes, it does. Like Prince Charming, you didn’t give up until you found the person that enchanted you that evening at the ball.”

“Uh, I think you mean, night club.”

“Ball, night club, it’s all the same.”

I smirked.

His smoldering gaze swept up and down my body, and without seeming to think about it, he pulled his chair an inch or two closer to mine.

I took my hand and began to trace his tattoo playfully. “After an extensive search, I finally found my Prince Charming.” A wave of chills swept over me, and I found myself leaning subconsciously closer. “So how does the fairytale end?”

“How do you want it to end?”

My eyes wandered shamelessly over him. My memory of his naked body hadn’t dimmed in the slightest, but seeing him in person, outside my dreams, was sheer torture. The man was perfection, plain and simple. Everything about him was chiseled and taut, and it took every bit of control I had in me not to reach over and take off his pants as well.

“Della?” He tilted his head to catch my eye, reclaiming my attention. “You didn’t answer my question.”