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The laugh she managed to huff out past her constricted lungs didn’t sound as confident as she’d hoped.

‘That’s good,’ she said, tugging her tingling fingers out of his grasp—the thought of him sealing the bargain they’d made a week ago sending a battalion of pheromones hurtling to every one of her erogenous zones along with those blasted butterflies. ‘I wouldn’t want to get arrested my first ten seconds on US soil.’

He laughed, the rough sound raw enough to stimulate her nerve-endings even more.

‘Touché, Alison,’ he murmured, the admiration in his dark hooded eyes so compelling she found herself basking in his approval. Even though she knew she shouldn’t.

It’s a job. It’s a job. It’s a job.

But the reminder couldn’t stop the flaming mutant butterflies in her belly from going berserk as his warm arm banded around her waist and he led her across the tarmac to a waiting car—which was a huge black limousine. Of course.

* * *

Dominic clicked his seat belt into place, thankful for the physical restraint as the jacket Alison was wearing opened to reveal a seductive hint of purple lace while she strapped herself into the car next to him.

She looked absolutely exquisite, her willowy frame displayed to perfection in the striking blue suit, the shadow of cleavage making it hard for him to concentrate on anything other than the desire to get her back to his apartment as soon as physically possible.

He’d prepared for her arrival today by convincing himself his physical reaction to her a week ago had been exaggerated thanks to his long sexual drought, and the expediency of ensuring she agree to become his wife.

But as soon as he’d heard her heels on the tarmac, and looked up from his smartphone, he’d known he’d been kidding himself.

Dressed in grubby Lycra or oversized sweats, Alison Jones had been subtly sexy. Now she was stunning.

Long, slim, and stylish, her figure in the tailored suit looked both toned and athletic while at the same time being supremely feminine. And her striking bone structure, the translucent skin and those bottomless eyes the colour of a fine whisky, only enhanced by the hint of eyeliner and the lush sparkle of lip gloss, made her irresistible.

He wanted to undo the one button holding her jacket together, capture her full breasts in his palms and fasten his lips on the rampaging pulse fluttering in the delicate well of her collarbone.

The driving need to take her to bed as soon as was humanly possible was so strong, in fact, it had the potential to be problematic.

He didn’t like being ruled by his desires—as much as he enjoyed sex, he had never had a problem controlling his hunger before now—and becoming addicted to Alison was not supposed to be part of this arrangement.

So stop leering at her and start talking.

He dragged his gaze away from her cleavage as the car left the airport and headed onto the expressway. She had her nose pressed against the window, obviously absorbing every new sight and sound, like a child outside a candy store.

‘So you’ve never been to the States before?’ he asked.

Her head swung round. ‘I’ve never been anywhere before,’ she said with an unabashed smile. ‘Apart from Provence. But I’ve always wanted to come here. It’s so exciting. Like being in a movie.’ Her unguarded enthusiasm, like everything else about her, was utterly beguiling.

Her expression sobered suddenly, so much so he could see the nerves. He wondered what on earth she had to be nervous about.

‘By the way, could I ask you something about the events we’ll be attending while I’m here...?’ she asked.

‘What about them?’

‘Do you think...?’ She paused and bit into her lip, sending another shaft of heat straight to his groin.

‘What is it?’ he demanded, more curtly than he had intended as the lip bite tortured him. Was she doing it deliberately? If only she were, he thought, feeling less and less in control of the situation. But somehow he doubted it. Because... She had been a virgin.

What had seemed like such a boon before he’d married her—PR wise—seemed less so as the hot blood surged to his crotch with very little provocation. Why did the fact of her inexperience make him all the more eager to explore every aspect of her pleasure?

‘I just wondered, do you think this outfit will be suitable?’ she finally blurted out.

‘Excusez-moi?’ he asked, because it sounded as if she’d just asked him to give her fashion advice.

‘This outfit?’ She spread her arms wide, making the button strain even more.

He stifled a groan.


Tags: Heidi Rice Billionaire Romance