Page 61 of Return Billionaire to Sender

I gasp. “What did you do?”

She taps again and the X disappears. “Aah. Retracted just in time.”

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Hitting submit on the X that you so richly deserve,” she says. “Now, is this an agreement on unbroken sessions? Or…” She lowers her finger, getting dangerously close to the submit button.

I sweep in like lightning and snatch the iPad from her grip and set it on the other side of me out of her reach.

“Gimme that,” she says.

“No,” I say.

She’s laughing. “Now you really are going to get an X!” She clambers onto me, trying to grab the device. “I’msogiving you an X!”

“Not in this life,” I growl.

She laughs, reaching for it. A wild rush of pleasure fills me.

I hold the thing over my head, now, and she’s laughing, going for it with renewed energy. She’s practically on top of me, trying to reach across me, chest pressing against mine.

She’s the perfect weight on my lap, and I breathe in her sweet scent, soaking up her soft curves with the unforgiving planes of my body. All at once she stills, color high, breath coming fast.

I set aside the iPad and fit my hands around her waist.

I expect her to maybe laugh and pull away with some snarky comment about giving me another X, but she stays. Her eyes gleam. Slowly, her gaze lowers to my lips. Heat rises between us.

“An X,” she whispers. “Unless you can persuade me otherwise.”

I blink. Did she just say what I think she said?

She smiles her playfully witchy smile, and there’s no more guessing, no more hesitation. I yank her to me, taking her lips in mine with a hunger that surprises me.

Deft fingers burrow into my hair. She’s warm and sweet, arching against me, and I’m devouring her, forcing the seam of her lips open.

My tongue invades her mouth.

“Nnng,” she says. “Nnnng.”

I’m reveling in her softnnnngs, in the desperate way she bunches my lapels into her fists, tightening and loosening as though her very fists are undulating under my wicked kiss.

I slide my hand up her arm and cup her chin, repositioning her face for a gentle kiss, now—a simple brush of my lips over the center of hers, and then a quick kiss for my favorite freckle.

She pulls away, seeming to come to her senses.

I loosen my grip on her, watching to see what she’ll do.

Her gaze falls to my lips.

She sucks in a breath as I draw near for another kiss—her lips, her nose, her brow. Badly painted lashes flutter against my hungry bottom lip. I kiss her other brow.

And then my driver’s voice sounds over the intercom, informing me that we’ve arrived at my next meeting.

With that, the magic is broken.

“I’ll make the uninterrupted hour,” I say.

She gives me a wary look. “Really?”

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