Stolen Heart (Bride of the Billionaire)

“You will be,” I reply. “Until you get used to me. But we have all the time in the world for that.”

I wait for her reply, but it never comes. Finally, I lift her chin gently and force her to look at me, and when I do, I see a look on her face that shakes me. I may not have seen that look recently, but I remember it from when I was young; it’s the look a girl gives you when she is about to say something she knows you won’t like.

“What?” I ask. “What is it, Amory?”

“The detective last night…” she replies. “What if he catches you?”

Jesus, that’s it? I breathe a sigh of relief and brush a lock of hair from her face. “Childers thinks he’s smart, but he’s just chasing the crumbs I leave for him. He’s nothing to worry about.”

“Zander…you came in me last night. What if I get pregnant, have our child and then…and then—”

“Stop,” I tell her, silencing her with a finger over her lips. “Never gonna happen. I promise you. And I’m a man of my word. Do you believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I smile. “Because, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

I wet my middle finger inside her and trace the line of her slit to her slick nub and begin to circle it gently. Just because she’s sore doesn’t mean she can’t feel pleasure. And there’s nothing I want to do more now than please her.

My angel.

“Zander…” Her fingers bunch around my shoulders as she lays her head against my chest. Within seconds, her legs begin to shiver, and I cup her ass with my other hand to keep her from falling. Her breath becomes heavy, and I feel her heart rate rise. Her perky tits pressed against my chest have my cock ready to slide back inside, but not yet. She needs time to recover. After all, she was a virgin last night.

When her body shakes, I press my finger down and hold. Her moan escapes her lips and washes over me like music. The soft flesh of her ass jiggles gently in my grip, and she lifts her mouth to mine. She accepts my kiss as she comes, and I hold her in my embrace until she comes down. Only then does she open her eyes to mine.

“Wow. You’re good.”

“Sweetie, I’ll do that for you every goddamn day.” I smile. “Morning and night. Shit, you won’t be able to keep me off you.”

We shower together, wash each other, and get dressed together. I have my men bring in a whole rack of clothes for her to choose from, but honestly, I just want her to stay in my gym shorts and T-shirt. She doesn’t have to try to impress me; I’m already smitten.

She makes us breakfast—scrambled eggs with chives, avocado and toast—and I show her the rest of the house, smiling at how many times she says, “I can’t believe you have that in your home!” I stop in the back office and look at her.

“This used to be where my old assistant worked,” I explain. “But everything’s mobile now and she doesn’t use it. I want you to have it.”

“Me?” Amory asks. She looks baffled. How can she

still not understand that I’m taking care of her now? “Why me? For what?”

“For your painting.” I smile. “Make it your studio. I’ll have anything you need brought in.”

The look on her face – if an artist could accurately capture that look, the ensuing painting would put the Mona Lisa to shame. For the first time ever, I wish I could create art, rather than simply steal it.

“Zander! Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious when it comes to things I truly care about,” I tell her. “As a matter of fact, we can get started on it today.”

And we do.

I put her in charge of a couple of my men and watch as she directs them, giving them lists of the things she needs. She’s a natural. She’s in her element, and it’s unbelievably sexy. I watch from a stool in the corner of the room as she organizes her new space. My shorts that she’s wearing ride up every time she bends over, giving me a glimpse of her smooth thighs and even the occasional peek at her panties. They’re still damp too, either with her arousal or with the load I left in her last night.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

The sun’s starting to go down as she’s finishing up. “Will you help me stretch this canvas?” she asks, finally asking me for help. “I’m not as strong as you, I’m sure.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I say as I get up from my stool. “But first, I need one of these.”

I pull her in for a kiss, wrapping my arm around her small waist. She’s sweating slightly, enhancing her natural scent that I inhale like a drug. Her proportions are perfect; she fits against me like a puzzle piece. We’re made for each other. There’s no doubt in my mind.