Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

Then his eyes flew open.

Forever?

What kind of a thought was that?

Sex was of the moment, experienced in the here and now. Relationships could be mutually beneficial but like most partnerships, they needed to be periodically assessed and reconfigured. Look at his parents. Their marriage lasted five years, enough time to produce him and his younger sister. His father, Jonathan, got entry into the San Francisco society that had previously rejected him for having more money than manners, while his mother, Phoebe, secured access to the Dallas fortune for the rest of her children’s lifetimes. Each of his parents’ subsequent marriages had further enhanced their financial standing, social standing or both.

Luke raised himself on his elbow to gaze at the woman curled into his side. She wouldn’t enhance his family’s social status or their bank accounts. She was...

She was Danica.

He fell asleep with her name branded on his thoughts.

* * *

Someone shook Luke’s shoulder, soft but insistent. “Hey.”

He opened his eyes to find Danica standing over him. She was dressed, her black shirtdress somewhat rumpled but buttoned to her collarbone. He pushed himself up on one elbow, but she started to speak before he could form coherent thoughts.

“Hi. Sorry to wake you. But I’m going home.” Her gaze didn’t meet his. It swept the floor as if searching for something. Suddenly she bent down. When she came back up into his field of vision, he recognized the white cotton panties in her right hand. She thrust them into her dress pocket. In her other hand, she held her cell phone.

He blinked, still struggling to make his synapses fire. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” she said firmly, then chased it with a quick smile her eyes didn’t reflect. “Lot of work tomorrow. We both need sleep.”

“We were sleeping.” He stretched out a hand. “Come back to bed.”

She stepped out of his reach. “I only wanted to tell you I was leaving.”

“What’s wrong?” It couldn’t be the sex. No, the sex had been amazing. Mind-blowing. Call him arrogant or just experienced at these things, but he knew she’d enjoyed herself. Twice.

She laughed, two octaves higher than her normal range. “Everything is fine. I only woke you up because it wouldn’t be right to sneak out. I mean, you’re still my client and I still owe you work. Right?”

“Right.” He searched her gaze. She wasn’t telling the complete truth. He could sense it. But he never fought to keep a woman in his bed. If she wanted to leave, that was her choice.

He pushed down the unexpected wave of emotion. No, he wasn’t disappointed. How could he be? This was the best possible outcome: great sex then his partner leaves. No morning awkwardness, no worrying if she will expect breakfast and especially no verbal dance around the possibility of an encore.

He swung the covers off. “I’ll drive you.”

“No!” She averted her gaze from his nude torso. “I called a car. You don’t need to bother.”

“It’s not a—”

“Look!” She thrust her phone at him. “My driver is almost here. Silver Corolla. Can’t cancel now. It would be rude.” She lowered the phone but kept her gaze riveted on its screen. “So, um, thanks for the party. And the...rest. I had a good time. I mean, I hope you had a good time. No, I mean—”

“Danica.” He waited until she looked up and held his gaze. A deep line still creased her brow.

He wanted to sweep the curls off her face and tell her everything would be okay. He wanted to hold her curves against him and caress that soft skin until she agreed to crawl back under the covers.

Wait. That was wrong. He didn’t want bed partners to stay. He masked his confusion with a tight smile. “I had a great time. Thank you.”

Her shoulders descended. “So, I’ll see you in the morning? At Ruby Hawk?”

“Of course.”

“Business as usual?”

“Yes.” Good. They were each appropriately categorizing the evening as a fun, one-time experience. The sour, hollow feeling in his stomach must be hunger from skipping dinner at the party.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen. “The driver is outside the gate.” She took a step toward the bed, but when he reached out his arm to draw her close for a goodbye kiss, she retreated to the doorway and offered a wave of her hand instead. “Bye.”