Page 7 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

Instead, I find myself looking into those ridiculously green eyes and feeling a pull I can’t quite explain.

Maybe it’s the Vegas effect.

Maybe it’s the tequila.

Maybe it’s justhim.

3

Sabrina

“So,” Leo says softly, barely above the background thrum. “Tell me about Sabrina Taylor when she’s not managing crises.”

“She’s usually trying to avoid creating new ones,” I quip, trying to keep it light. I can’t help but glancing at his lips again.

Oh god. He’s so close.

Don’t kiss him. Don’t kiss him.

“But today?” he presses gently. “Today’s different. Right?”

Itisdifferent. I feel reckless, untethered. Maybe it’s the fake GHB placebo effect, maybe it’s just Vegas.

Before I can answer, before I can think, he leans in and his mouth covers mine. It’s sudden, surprising, and sends a shockwave straight through me. That complex scent of his wraps around me. His lips are firm, insistent, tasting of tequila and mint and something uniquely Leo.

My hands instinctively fly up to his chest, pushing slightly in surprise before… relaxing. Melting.

Oh, hell. This is what trouble tastes like.

And it’s delicious.

He deepens the kiss, one hand sliding around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The other tangles in my hair, tilting my head back.

My mind goes blissfully blank, all anxieties and warnings drowned out by the sheer, unexpected pleasure of his mouth on mine. He groans softly, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates against my palms.

We stay like that for who knows how long, lost in our own little bubble amid the cabana.

I finally pull away, convinced he’s doing this only because of the GHB. Still, I’m breathless, and so is he. His green eyes are dark, pupils dilated, mirroring the haze I feel descending over my own senses (placebo or not).

My lips feel swollen, my hair is definitely a mess, and my carefully constructed composure is shot to hell.

I glance across the cabana. Sam and Amara are huddled close on a separate couch, murmuring quietly. Jess meanwhile seems to be trying to teach Marco some kind of TikTok dance, much to his confusion.

And Rossi and Tatiana… wait, where did Rossi and Tatiana go?

My eyes scan the cabana. They were just…oh. The door to the private bathroom at the back of the cabana clicks shut.

No. They didn’t.

My jaw drops slightly. Tatiana? Buttoned-up, hyper-organized, ‘I alphabetize protein bars’ Tatiana?

It’s the GHB, of course.

Leo follows my gaze towards the bathroom door,a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. “Looks like Dom’s made a strategic withdrawal.”

“Strategic withdrawal?” I echo faintly. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

More like a hostile takeover of common sense.

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