Page 29 of His Forbidden Kiss

Page List


Font:  

“You don’t enjoy going?” She genuinely believed Royce didn’t mind attending stuffy functions and donning tuxedos and bow ties. He fit in, drink in hand, genial expression on his face no matter who he was conversing with.

“Hide it well, don’t I?” He lifted an eyebrow. The slightly roguish expression went well with his relaxed attire and the sex-warmed buzz vibrating her limbs.

“You hide lots of things well.” The words were muttered against the rim of her wine glass. She liked sharing this slice of time with him. In his space, the fire burning in front of them—the one burning between them. She liked sharing wine and truths while sitting three feet apart.

“I do what’s expected of me. Always have.” He shrugged. “Consummate firstborn.”

She was sure the last thing anyone would “expect” was for him to take Taylor Thompson to bed—er, to couch. And no one would have put money on her showing up to seduce him, either. A bubble of pride lifted her chest. Finally, she’d taken what she wanted.

“The Valentine’s Day gala has always been my least favorite. Until this year. Coincidentally.”

She caught his heated gaze and returned it, the air between them practically igniting. He cupped her toes with one large, warm hand.

“Want some socks too?”

“Thanks, but I have to strap those puppies back on.” She pointed to the shoes beneath the coffee table, which were about as inviting as an iron maiden. She’d kicked them off when he went to change, past ready to give her toes a break.

“I like them, if it’s any consolation.” He gave her foot a squeeze, a gesture that felt familiar even though it’d never happened before.

“I bet I was the last person you expected to find standing on your porch tonight.” It’d been outrageous to expect sex simply because she showed up almost naked, but her instincts were rarely wrong.

“The very last. I half thought you were Bran coming to kick my ass. Figured Dad told him...” His lips pressed together like he’d said too much. “Nevermind.”

Did he really expect her to let a whopper like that one go?

“What? What did you think Jack told him?”

Tongue swiping his bottom lip, Royce seemed to turn over telling her versus not. He stood and crossed the room to fetch a thin blanket, tossing it over her before he continued, which was sweet.

Wineglass in hand, he watched out the large window behind the dining room table.

“CEO is mine.”

She blinked, shocked. She couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d found Royce standing at her front door wearing naught but a trench coat.

“How...do you feel about it?” She had to ask. She couldn’t read his tone or his body language.

“It’s my responsibility.”

“Do you want it?”

“Of course,” he snapped. A warning. Best not to push the topic. They slept together but it didn’t grant her entry into his inner circle.

Boundaries were important. They had a lot at stake—more now that Royce was going to be named CEO. Sneaking around wasn’t the wisest course of action.

“I should go.” She threw off the blanket. “Early day tomorrow. Breakfast with my mom.”

He didn’t argue, but what had she expected? A heartfelt plea that she strip out of her clothes and follow him to the bedroom? Romance wasn’t in the cards for them—especially when she’d started them off on a very unromantic note. Sexy yes, romantic... Not so much.

She buckled her uncomfortable shoes and stood. Royce followed behind her without a second’s hesitation. Once they entered the mouth of the foyer, he handed over her clutch and keys. Outside a crisp breeze blew the palm fronds overhead, black against a blacker night sky.

“Good night.” Sweeping her hair behind her ears, she guessed a good-night kiss was pushing it. “Congratulations. On CEO.”

She turned to walk to her car parked in the driveway when he said her name. Hope rose fierce and full, pressing against her breastbone.

Ask me to stay.

He descended one porch step, all that capable masculine beauty hovering over her. Then he opened his mouth and “Don’t say anything to Brannon or Gia” came out.

“Oh. Sure.” She nodded. That hope deflated, going limp in her chest and sagging her lungs.

He folded his arms over his chest to ward off the air’s chill. “Mom and Dad want to tell them separately. Before the official announcement is made at the ThomKnox offices.”

Words failed her.

He nodded, a succinct dip of his chin before he walked back inside and shut the door.

So much for romance.


Tags: Jessica Lemmon Billionaire Romance