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All their issues weren’t behind them, but they were able to at least focus on enjoying each other’s company tonight and worrying about the rest tomorrow. With that thought in mind, Jonah directed the pilot to land on his building’s rooftop instead of returning them to the heliport.

When they touched down, Emma frowned out the window. “Where are we?”

“My place.” He opened the helicopter door and offered his hand to help her.

Suspicion wrinkled her nose, but she still accepted his hand and stepped out onto his rooftop with him. They hustled away from the helicopter and over to the door. He led her down a set of stairs and out onto the landing where the entrance to his penthouse loft was located.

“Wait a minute,” Emma said as she stared at the door.

“What?”

“This was your place? Where the Mardi Gras party was held?”

“Yes,” he replied as he reached out to unlock the door. Jonah didn’t hold many parties at his loft in Tribeca, but the Mardi Gras shindig had been one of them. “You don’t think I’m tacky enough to seduce a woman in someone else’s laundry room, do you?”

Emma’s cheeks flushed bright red at the mention of their impulsive encounter. “I didn’t really think about it. Although now that you mention it, I think Harper did say that party was at her boss’s place. I assumed she meant the head of finance, not the CEO’s apartment.”

“I was right under your nose the whole time,” Jonah said. He pushed open the door and gestured her in ahead of him. He followed behind, watching her as she studied the open, industrial space he’d fallen in love with the first time he toured it.

“It looks different without a hundred people crammed in here. It’s huge.”

“It takes up the whole top floor,” Jonah explained. “Originally, I think this building was some sort of textile factory. When I bought it ten years ago, part of it had been converted to offices and shops and the top two floors were a storage warehouse. I ended up turning the whole thing into loft apartments with shared common areas on the ground floor.”

Emma stopped and turned to face him. “You own the whole building?”

Jonah nodded and slipped out of the suit coat that had been irritating him all evening. He was hot-blooded and the suit on top of the long-sleeved shirt and glasses of wine had him almost at the point of sweating.

“If I listened to nothing else my mother, the great Angelica Flynn, told me, I did learn to diversify my investments.” He tossed the jacket over the back of a dining room chair and spread his arms out. “This was my foray into the real estate market. She thought I was crazy, of course. She prefers stuffy uptown mansions with marble and gold inlay. I like exposed brick and ductwork. Fortunately, I’m not the only one. The other lofts were rented with an extensive waiting list within weeks of being on the market.”

Emma set her purse on the concrete countertop of his kitchen and ran her fingers across the slightly roughened surface. “It’s definitely a different style. Not my style, but I know plenty of people who would like it.”

He followed behind her as she strolled through the living room and dining area, nearing the door that led into the infamous laundry room. As a true loft, there were only three doors in the whole space. One for the laundry and utility room, and the others for the guest and master bathrooms. Even if he’d wanted to take her to his bed that night, he wouldn’t have been able to. The space was wide-open to the party. It wasn’t ideal but the laundry room had been his only real option.

Emma hesitated for a moment, then reached out and turned the knob of the door. Was she really heading straight for the scene of the crime? He’d brought her back to his place with the intention of tasting every inch of her skin, but he’d anticipated using the bed this time.

She went straight to the washing machine, running her hand over the same top that he’d lifted her onto. Emma turned and pressed her back against the machine, then looked up at him with a sly smile curling her lips. “That night was...”

Mind-blowing? Crazy? Amazing? Passionate? Life changing?

“...unforgettable.”

Jonah took a step closer, narrowing the gap between them. “That it was. Every minute I spent with you was seared into my brain. Every soft moan and cry permanently etched into my memory.”

Emma made a familiar sound, barely louder than an intake of breath. He remembered that gasp. She’d made that same sound of surprise when he pushed up her skirt and pressed his fingertips into the flesh of her upper thighs.

He moved closer with that thought in mind. His every nerve tingled in anticipation as they remembered that moment. His blood rushed through his veins as his heart pounded loudly in his ears. “Over these last few months, I’ve thought of little else but having my butterfly back in my arms again.”

Emma looked up at him as he came near enough to slip his arms around her waist. For once, she didn’t fight or squirm. Instead, she pressed into him and clutched at the fabric of his dress shirt. “I’ve thought about that night a lot, too. I’ve wondered what I would do if I were given a second chance to be with my hero.”

“Any ideas?” Jonah asked with a wicked grin. He leaned into her, pressing her back against the washing machine and imprinting his desire for her against her stomach.

“I have a few.” Emma laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers.

As their lips made cont

act, Jonah realized this was the first time that he’d kissed Emma knowing who she really was. The kiss they’d shared before, aside from being slightly antagonistic, was just a kiss from the uptight Game Town auditor. There were no real expectations there, unlike a kiss from his butterfly.

He worried that this moment might be tainted by shaded memories of that night that no mortal woman could ever live up to. The minute they touched, however, it was no longer a concern. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her in his arms—it all combined in a familiar tidal wave that washed over him all at once. Before, there had been things about her that seemed familiar, but it had been like a déjà vu moment with one piece missing, the piece to tie it all together.


Tags: Andrea Laurence Billionaire Romance