Page 177 of The Billionaire's Baby
"Your…your name," I choke out. "It can’t be Edward."
"I am not following." His cultured tone carries a note of warning, which I ignore.
"I mean, you can’t be called Edward. Who put you up to this? Was it Isla?" Only she knows about my slightly stalkerish obsession with Edward, from Twilight, and surely, she wouldn’t tell the others, right?
"Ah!" The wrinkles on his forehead dissipate. "You’re Isla’s friend?"
I hold out my hand, "Ava."
"Ava?" He frowns.
He touches my hand and the rest of the words dry in my throat. Goosebumps flare on my skin. His gaze widens and the planes of his chest twitch. Did he feel that shock of the impact as well? I try to pull back my hand but he holds onto it.
"Why are you hiding, Eve?"
"I’m not." I scowl. "And don’t call me that."
"It suits you better," He tilts his head, "and you haven’t answered my question yet."
"Which one?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I came here to read," I bite the inside of my cheek, "only I heard the splashing in the pool, and I turned around and spotted you swimming.
"And you watched?" His lips curl in a hint of a smirk.
I glance away. "I, uh, may have peeked a bit."
"Did you like what you saw?"
I jerk my head in his direction, to find him watching me closely. His expression is one of curiosity, like I am some kind of lab specimen who's responses he is clocking in a clinical way. The hair on the back of my neck rises. I want to glance away, break the connection with this man, but I can't. My pulse rate ratchets up. Despite the chill in the morning, my palms begin to sweat. I clear my gaze, force the words out, "Wh... why Eve?"
"You know why." He peruses my features. "And you haven't answered the question."
"Do I?" My heart begins to race. "And what question?"
"You know the answer to both." He folds his arms across his chest and his impressive biceps bulge. Heat blooms between my legs and I resist the urge to rub my thighs together.
"I'm not sure what you're referring to." I say stiffly, "And no, I don’t find you attractive."
His grin widens, and the impact of that smile… Oh my. His teeth sparkle against the tan of his skin, his features brighten, the charisma pours off of him, and honestly, I can’t glance away. I take in the gleam in his eyes, the hair on his forehand drying and already curling a little.
I blink. "Aren’t you cold?"
The breeze picks up, and a strand of hair whips across my face.
He releases my hand, only to lean down and push the hair aside. Goosebumps pop on my skin. My stomach trembles and my heart begins to race. I watch as his gaze holds mine, as the pupils of his eyes dilate. His nostrils flare, and he straightens. "I’d better be along. Sterling’s expecting me for breakfast."
"Oh, that’s right. Me too." I’d promised Summer I’d join them for breakfast. I jump up, and the movement brings me close to him. The heat of his body slams into my chest, and my throat dries. I stare up at him, as he glares down his nose. Something like anger steals across his features, before he schools all expression from his face. A strange sensation grips my chest. I draw in a breath and the oxygen rushes to my head. Shit, when had I forgotten to breathe? He steps back, and the cold rushes in. I shiver.
He pivots, walks toward the pool house. I take in the tattoo of the snake that crawls diagonally across his back. Whoa! That’s one mean-ass tattoo. It’s as spectacular as it is unexpected against the much paler skin of his back. The forked tongue of the snake is thick in girth, and within it are etched tribal signs that I can’t decipher. The edge of it flows over his shoulder, which is what I must have seen earlier. The scales on the snake are patterned in color and the triangular head has slitted eyes which seem to follow me as I jump to my feet, then tug the blanket around me, hold my book close and follow.
"Hold on," I protest, "your legs are too long."
He slows his pace and I catch up.
"So, you are a friend of Sinclair’s?"
