Page 11 of Billionaire's Runaway

But this morning, I felt sheepish and shy from my interlude with Luke last night. It had been amazing, but what if it hadn’t been so special to him? What if he thought less of me today? What if he wanted me to leave now that he’d tasted me—literally?

As I climbed the stairs to the penthouse’s main floor, the litany of insecurities was as endless as my to-do lists. I hated it. Until mid-high school when my father had complexly shifted my life-view with his determination that it was time I marry, I’d been a carefree outgoing girl, always ready for the next adventure. I wanted her back! I missed her.

“What was that?”

I jumped and looked up, startled. Luke was standing in the kitchen doorway on the far side of the living room. He was also dressed for the day, though far less casually in a pair of charcoal dress pants and a lightweight, olive-green sweater. It fit his body to perfection, emphasizing his lean, muscular figure and stealing my breath. Damn it, no man should look so good with their sleeves pushed up their mouthwatering forearms.

And what had he said? I shook my head, indicating I didn’t understand him.

“I thought you said something.”

“No,” I replied. I threaded my fingers into my long, thick hair, pushing it back from my face.

“Hmm, okay. Coffee?”

“Yes,” I moaned, without thinking and even from where I stood, I saw Luke’s eyes darken. I bit my lip and smiled at him. Okay, he still wanted me.

And that look empowered me to let that carefree girl reemerge. She’d been hiding for too long while I’d been running from the inevitability of that arranged marriage. And she was ready for an adventure.

“I was thinking we could have it out on the living room terrace, or we can go upstairs to the rooftop terrace. Both have outdoor heaters, and it’s beautiful out. Then… Do you want to eat here or go out?”

“Here is fine.” I closed the space between us and followed him into the kitchen. I slipped into one of the chairs to watch him. The muscles in his arms flexed while he simply poured a cup of coffee for me and slid it toward me.

“Cream or sugar?”

“Cream, please.” I bit my lip, not wanting to be shy with him. I mean the man had his face between my legs last night. Okay, wrong thought. That was definitely something to be shy about.

“You okay?” he asked as he set the carton of half and half and a spoon near me. His cool fingers stroked over my heated cheek.

“Mm-hmm,” I squeaked.

C’mon, Laura you’re a grownup.

“Just thinking,” I continued.

“Me, too,” he replied, his tone growly, and my lower stomach pulled in reaction. My panties were definitely getting damp.

“Probably not about the same thing,” I said.

Liar, liar pants on fire!

“I know it’s the weekend and New York,” I rushed out. “But I’ve never been here except for that quick weekend. We barely saw a thing—basically the airport, hotel, the club and a show. I’d reallylike to see some of it, you know? I mean…” I bit my lip. “I know it’s touristy and you probably don’t want to but—”

“We can do whatever you want. What are you thinking?”

“Silly stuff really. I want to ride the Staten Island Ferry and see the Statue of Liberty and do a Central Park carriage ride and go to the Bronx Zoo,” I blurted out in one breath. “And maybe see the Empire State Building and Radio City Hall.”

He leaned forward onto his elbows, bringing us eye to eye. “I could take you anywhere. Paris, Venice, London…”

That flutter happened in my belly again. “I’m sure you could,” I answered more casually than I felt. “But I’ve never really seen New York. Let’s start here.”

Stretching forward, he kissed my forehead then straightened and walked toward the refrigerator. “Maybe Paris for our honeymoon.”

“Luke,” I huffed.

He turned to face me, leaning his butt against the counter next to the fridge. “I’m not going to lie about this. I told you how I feel yesterday. You know I want you—I want you forever. I won’t force you into anything. When it comes to us together, our lives together, I won’t coerce you into anything.” His chin lowered, his intense, determined eyes pinning me. “But someday, I promise you, we’re getting married. And I will take you on an extravagant honeymoon. You might as well figure out where you want to go and start planning on that now.”

“You just decided that, and you’re telling me to start planning on it, but you’re not forcing me?” I asked in disbelief. “Because,from where I’m sitting, it sounds an awful lot like I have no choice.”

---