Page 5 of The Billionaire's Ride

I nod. “Yeah, I just flew in from L.A.”

“You’re a long way from home.” His lip curls up again.

Being five thousand miles from home is one thing, but being close to him pushes me way out of my usual element. I glance down at his shoes—roughed-up combat boots. Real leather. That’s unexpected. I like it. “Yeah. What about you?”

“I’m what you’d call a Londoner.”

“Ahh, London-ah,” I say, dropping Kate Golden for Kate Winslett.

The corners of his mouth turn up, and his eyes brighten. “Yes, a London-ER,” he pronounces with a hard American accent.

I giggle. “Your American accent’s pretty good. You an actor?”

He shakes his head with a twisted expression.

“Model?” I ask.

“Nope. Why? Are you a model? A Hollywood actress?” he jokes.

I raise my brows, shifting my jaw. “Definitely not.”

Drew leans in, and his lips nearly touch the edge of my earlobe. “So, what are you then?” he whispers.

My empty glass trembles in my hand as I inhale his spicy, intoxicating cologne. Can he hear the sound of my racing heart like I can? “I’m a . . . I’m just Kate.”

Just Kate? What the hell does that even mean? I usually can’t wait to gush about my company and designs. But Drew pops into my life, and my usual small talk goes out the window.

He pulls back with a slight sparkle reflecting in his leather-brown eyes. “I like that answer. Why define ourselves by our jobs or last names when we can be Just Kate and Just Drew?”

Just Kate. Just Drew. I don’t hate it. I also don’t hate how he can strip me down with one look. Though I can imagine him with his boxer briefs around his ankles, I don’t know if I quite have him pegged. On the surface, he looks like another cool playboy who’s only after one thing. But I can’t help feeling that there’s more than meets the eye.

He gestures toward the stairs with a nod. “You want to get away from this lot? Somewhere quiet.”

I glance around the room for Garret, chewing my bottom lip. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He raises his brow. “I know a place upstairs. No one will bother us.”

“Upstairs? Here?” Is this guy the good kind of trouble or the bad kind? I’m really not looking to be naughty in Nina Savoy’s house.

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine.”

Who is this guy? “Um, sure. Why not?” I swallow hard.

“Then come with me, Kate.” He says my name as if he’s swirling the syllables in his mouth like a good sip of wine and offers his hand. I give him my hand and he tucks it safely in his like a delicate piece of lace. Whatever hesitation is left seems to melt with every step we take up the steep staircase.

I don’t know exactly why I agreed to leave with him, but I absolutely want to find out. Maybe I will have some fun tonight. At Nina Savoy’s house. With a guy I just met.

Garret will be so proud.

The long, well-lit hallway is vacant, and all the doors are closed. We turn the corner with only one final, closed door at the end. “Here we are,” he says, wrapping his fingers around the silver doorknob.

I want to go with him. I do. But something inside me hesitates because the next thing out of my mouth is, “Is there a bathroom I can use first?” Good one, Kate. Bathrooms aresooosexy . . .

He cocks his head, holding back a chuckle, then points down the hall. “Around the corner. The second door on the left.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?” he asks, pushing open the door.

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