And not nearly as worldly as she made out.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to come with him here. Maybe he shouldn’t have seduced her into staying. Maybe he shouldn’t tease her now.

But he wanted to see that smile more.

‘Morning.’

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye. How was that possible after all they’d done through the night?

Instead she glanced at the laden tray on the table beside him and zeroed in on the pile of paperwork.

‘This is what you’re meant to be doing while staying here?’ she asked, one eyebrow raised, a teasing lilt to her words.

‘I do need to finish that report some time.’ He sat back down in the chair.

‘Some time?’ She nodded. ‘So my staying is saving you from your workaholic self?’

She was saving him from something far darker. But he didn’t want to talk about it. This was purely for fun. So he teased, ‘And the lack of WiFi here is going to save you from your internet addiction.’

She laughed at that, then sent him a shy yet coy look from under her lashes. ‘How are we going to distract ourselves from withdrawal symptoms?’

‘I can think of a couple of things we could do.’

He couldn’t hold back a moment longer. He reached out and wrapped his hand round her slim wrist.

‘Stay another night.’

He hadn’t meant to just ask like that. Not so soon.

She didn’t reply. But she didn’t pull away either.

‘There’s nothing you have get back to in Melbourne, is there?’ He waited. ‘Your blog will last another day.’

She still didn’t say anything.

‘Stephanie?’

He pulled on her wrist and she stepped nearer.

Still not near enough.

‘But you have all this work to do,’ she said softly, her glance barely skittering over him.

There was always work to do. He always did more that he needed to.

‘It was an excuse,’ he admitted. ‘I wanted to be alone. But then I decided I’d rather be with you.’

‘I’m so gratified,’ she said, with a touch of that edge.

He chuckled. ‘Have something to eat?’ He gestured to the fruit.

‘In a minute.’ She looked at him then—a slow, scorching look, from his face down to his bare chest, to the tightness of his once loose boxers.

And for the first time in his life he couldn’t move. He didn’t want her expression to change. He didn’t want this moment to pass.

Only then it got better—because she moved, coming to sit astride his lap.

‘At least stay the day…’ He croaked out the words.

Want consumed him. His hands moved of their own accord, roving up her thighs, pushing the skirt up so he could feel her beautiful soft skin.

‘Please don’t torture me again.’

Her eyes looked large in her flushed face. She looked so thoroughly aroused his body winched unbearably tighter.

‘Torture you?’

‘Tease me until I say yes,’ she clarified in a whisper.

‘But there’s such pleasure to be had in teasing you.’ He shifted his thighs so he could get nearer to where he wanted. ‘You’re blushing again.’ He laughed. Then sobered. ‘You really don’t do this often, do you?’

‘If you mean act like a brazen hussy? Then, no.’

‘What’s with the puritanical streak? There’s nothing wrong with two adults having some fun together.’

‘I know.’ She fell silent.

‘You don’t regret it?’ His hands stilled as something cold settled in his stomach.

‘Actually, I’ve discovered I like being a brazen hussy,’ she whispered with a laugh.

And then she kissed him.

He groaned in relief. But as she kissed she rocked her sweet curves on him. Her cool hands skimmed down his heated chest. The timbre of his groan changed—to need. To desperation.

He clumsily pushed aside the straps of her crumpled dress. She lifted her arms to help him—until it was over her head, she was naked astride him and he could kiss her breasts.

Thank heaven she hadn’t bothered with bra or briefs. Thank heaven he’d thought to put condoms on every available surface—including the table beside him.

But he couldn’t get to them. She was too busy kissing him. And he was too busy enjoying the way she was writhing on him. He was going to come in another instant and he wasn’t even naked.

‘Who’s doing the torturing now?’ he asked roughly.

It was the glittering smile that did it—so Steffi Leigh.

He stood so quickly she yelped. He set her on her feet and spun her to face the forest. ‘Hands on the railing,’ he ordered gruffly.

She’d already put them there to balance herself. He scooped up a condom from under his papers and shoved his boxers down, was rolling it down him in a trice.


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
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