Page 28 of Dating the Billionaire
But Blair wasn’t about to admit to that. “And I always got in more trouble than you did every time we got caught.”
“Because you always got caught,” Miranda said. “I didn’t.”
She had always gotten caught. That was why wearing that disguise had been such a bad idea. But Matteo hadn’t seen through it yet; she hadn’t been caught.
Or had she?
In a trap she’d set for herself. Because she didn’t see any way out of her current situation...so she might as well figure out a way to enjoy it.
To enjoy him...
Before she got caught.
“You know you owe me,” Blair persisted.
And Miranda’s sigh rattled the phone. “What do you want from me?”
“Just one thing.”
The rest she intended to get from someone else. And she intended to—hell, she needed to—get a hell of a lot of it from him.
Sounding worried, Miranda asked, “What?”
“A date,” Blair replied. “I need a date.”
What the hell had he been thinking to agree to another date—with anyone? Even if Savannah showed up at his door, he should close it in her face after how she’d treated him. He was never the one who had to leave messages, who had to beg for someone to call him back, to see him again.
He was the one who got begged—for more.
Apparently Savannah didn’t want anything from him, though. But just because she wasn’t interested in him didn’t mean that he should give up on dating.
He wasn’t looking for a soul mate, but he wouldn’t mind finding someone to spend time with talking, enjoying a meal, dancing...
But like he’d had with Savannah that night, he had no expectations now. Especially after what had happened with Savannah.
What the hell was he thinking to trust Liaisons International again?
He’d probably be better off letting Francesca set him up with someone. Hell, no. He’d be better off meeting someone on his own. Maybe he should switch from having Bill as a pilot to having Blair Snyder. But a woman who sounded as incredible as she did probably wasn’t single.
For some reason he didn’t feel single either right now. He felt guilty about going out with someone other than Savannah, which was crazy. They’d only had that one night. That one incredible night.
And he didn’t want to give up on it or on her. Not yet.
He’d just reached for the cell phone on the desk of his hotel suite when a knock rattled the door. Damn it.
His date had shown up before he’d had a chance to cancel it. He would just have to explain that it had been a mistake. But then he opened the door.
And shock rippled through him along with the overwhelming attraction he’d felt for her. He hadn’t been wrong; he hadn’t exaggerated in his memory how beautiful she was. She wasn’t dressed up like she’d been that first night. But even in a sweater and jeans she was sexy as sin.
So she was as beautiful—maybe even more so—than he’d remembered her. But what about the passion?
Was it as hot as he remembered, the pleasure as intense?
But he couldn’t just assume that was why she’d come here, that she wanted him, too. So he asked, “What are you doing here?”
And she reached out, her palms against his chest. After pushing him back, she stepped inside the suite and shut the door with a swung of her foot. “You?”
But it was a question, not an assumption.
