Page 21 of Billionaire's Runaway

“How can I resist an offer like that?” she asked.

“Hopefully, you’ll never be able to resist me.”

“I don’t think you’re in danger of that ever happening.” She slipped on her shoes and snagged her purse before allowing me to usher her toward the penthouse’s elevator.

Nine

Laura

The next week was…bliss. I couldn’t say there wasn’t a thread of unease lingering in the back of my mind, a worry my father or that guy he’d arranged the marriage to would show up, but otherwise, everything was good. When Luke wasn’t on the phone dealing with work issues, we were together. It didn’t matter what we were doing, seeing NYC sights, having fancy dinners, lounging on the couch watching TV or a movie, we were merely inches from each other. That didn’t change when we went to bed. I spent all day next to him and every night wrapped around him while he clutched me to him.

Right now, I was kind of at loose ends since he’d had to go into the office to finalize some crap about the permits that had gotten screwed up earlier this week. His brother, Jameson, had done something to smooth the way. I wasn’t sure what, except I’d heard Luke exclaim, “You did what?” this morning. A few minutes later, he’d rushed out with a quick, knee-buckling kiss and a promise he wouldn’t be too late getting home.

I glanced around the large penthouse. Boxes and parcels had basically taken over the dining area. I headed over, deciding since the things were here I might as well get to making this place into a home. I’d chosen to keep the furniture. It was new, sturdy and workable, but when I was done rearranging and adding my decretive flair, the place wouldn’t look like a sterileunused home anymore. Gosh darn it, there would be color. Lots of it.

Like a kid at Christmas, I opened the first of the boxes. This one had come today, and I gasped in delight when I pulled back the flaps. I’d sent photos from my phone to one of those places that made wall prints out of the snaps. These were from my first couple days with Luke, so there wasn’t a big timeline, but it was the two of us together. Gathering all the canvases, I headed toward the bedroom. I was excited to make this place ours, but I hoped Luke wouldn’t regret giving me carte blanche.

A few hours later, I stood back and surveyed the living room. I’d gone with varying shades of blue—Luke’s favorite color. Overall, against the steel and glass, the geometric throw and decorative cushions added a warmth that had been missing. The modern-inspired landscape painting over the couch pulled it all together. I’d kept the clean, uncluttered lines, while carefully adding small conversation pieces and books here and there.

I was nodding to myself when I heard the door to the elevator opening. Turning, I headed for it and threw myself into Luke’s arms as he entered. What a change from a week ago.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, catching me with his free arm. My legs went around his waist as I kissed his face all over. His briefcase dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and he cupped my ass with both hands. A second later, my back hit the wall as he caught my lips and kissed me deeply. I groaned, arching into him and rubbing my center against the hard ridge pressing into me.

“I missed you,” I breathed against his mouth in between kisses. My hands buried in his soft, thick hair.

“I could happily come home to this every day.”

“Yes…” I hissed out as his mouth traveled down my neck.

“Marry me,” he grated against my shoulder.

My head jerked back and smacked into the wall. “What?”

Chuckling, he reached up and cupped the back of it. “Don’t do that. There’s precious perfection inside. We can’t have this brain of yours hurt. I love what you’ve done to the penthouse. Brilliant.”

“You haven’t even seen it.”

“Um, well…” He glanced up at the corner of the living room.

My eyes narrowed. “You have cameras watching me?”

“Protecting,” he clarified. “I had them put in while we were out on Wednesday.”

My eyes narrowed, brows drawing together, but I couldn’t even be mad. I knew he was…overly protective and possessive of me, but he hadn’t once tried to control me. “We’ll talk about that in a little bit,” I warned. “Now, what did you just say?”

“Marry me.” Putting me to my feet, he stepped back and shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, I know you probably think it’s fast but—”

“Okay.”

“—I’ve wanted to make you completely mine since last week. Hell, longer than that…” He trailed off, his head cocking to the side. “What?”

I laughed quietly. “Okay.”

“Now?”

“What?” I gasped. The word seemed to be a theme this afternoon.

“Let’s go and do it now.”

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