Page 51 of The Billionaire

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Dressedin a formfitting short turquoise dress that hugged all my curves in just the right places, I felt pretty damn sexy. Never would I treat myself to such a sexy dress. I was always the practical dresser, but dressed to the nines like this made me feel, well powerful. Sexy. I even walked different.

I sat across from Kyle on a secluded terrace in a private villa in Maui attended by a staff just for us. (Apparently this is normal life for billionaires). I still couldn’t believe this was really happening.

I shyly stared at Kyle, looking down nervously. The affect he had on my body, my emotions,—it almost was too much. But in a good way. I had never felt this way before.

He wore a crisp white shirt under a black blazer, with an aqua linen handkerchief in his front pocket. He was freshly shaven and his hair perfectly styled back. He looked like a movie star and I felt like I had won a special drawing where you have breakfast with a celebrity. Except, this wasn’t just breakfast. This was . . . well, I wasn’t sure what was happening next. Sure we had had sex now four times including the times at the club, yes I was counting. So surely that meant something more than a fling? I didn’t know and I couldn’t help but to think about what would happen after breakfast. It was just how I was wired.

His voice rang in my memory from earlier just before we left the club.

I want to pursue you outside of the club.

This promise anchored my anxious thoughts when I wondered what would happen next. I was a total control freak and this—this feeling, these crazy intense emotions I felt for him—well they didn’t fit in my nice little box I wanted them to stay in.

I just needed to stay in the moment and quit thinking so hard.

So I sipped my mimosa as I stared at the tranquil ocean. I listened to the lapping sounds against the rocks. I didn’t want to wake up from this. It felt like a dream. Did he feel that way, too? I could feel his eyes on me. I inhaled deeply trying to remember to play it cool. I tried to act like Shelly, the way she could be so composed with a guy and have him eating out of her hand. I didn’t want all my cards laid out yet. I didn’t want to spill the—“I’m crazy about you. You make my body feel like jello. You leave me speechless”—speech yet. Or never. I shuttered. I was a mess. I was a mess under his spell.

“You look stunning.” He placed his mimosa down and a warm breeze blew a tendril in my face. He reached for his Iphone and snapped a picture of me attempting to brush the tendril away. I immediately went to cover my face, embarrassed. But he had already captured it.

I looked down at my lap, shy.

He grinned from ear to ear like a boy. There was no denying his joy.

“Did you like what I had packed for you?”

I took a sip and finished my mimosa.

“I do. Everything is beautiful.” I tried to sound composed, unaffected by his wealth. “There were quite a few outfits in there for just breakfast.”

He cleared his throat and smiled a charming smile, as if he wanted to speak but he didn’t want to perhaps lay all of his cards out on the deck.

“I’m really glad you came to have breakfast with me here.”

“I am too.”

“Are you sure?” he laughed and looked down at my barely eaten plate. “I do reckon this is our first date, but you have to eat something. You’ll need your strength for dessert later.” He winked.

Dessert later. Okay, faint! I knew exactly what he meant with that gleam in his eyes and I re-crossed my legs trying to somehow stifle the juices that he made flow like rivers.

Chills ran throughout my body at the thought of being with him. I couldn’t even eat my breakfast because my nerves were so haywire. I was . . . stricken.

“I am! I love omelets, and toast, and everything on this spread.” I said quickly, I reached for my liquid courage finishing it.

“I can tell.” He laughed as he poured me another and just when I was about to reach for it, he slid it towards him.

“Three bites of omelet first.” He winked. “I hope you’re not a huge dieter because I like my women with curves. And you my dear are a goddess. You’re perfect. Damn, I’m still picturing you naked. Just talking about that gorgeous ass right now is keeping me from getting up from this table right now.”

A small laugh escaped my lips.

“How do you not know I’m trying to make this the slowest breakfast of my life so we can spend more time . . . together?” I finally retorted. “You know.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because we’re not staying here just for breakfast.” He slid me the mimosa back to me and I took a small sip.

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